This morning, as I was reading the words of Christ in the scriptures, I read the phrase "Behold Your Little Ones." And couldn't help but feel like my heart was about to explode. A handful of experiences over these last few weeks have reminded me over and over that these little ones are so capable. Their light is so needed in this world. And as much as I think they need things a certain way, I often learn how much more they can handle, how ready they are to be stretched, and how they truly know how to serve and connect with others.
One of those moments happened a few Sunday mornings ago.
Since it was the first Sunday of the month, I was fasting, and reminded her that I'd be happy to get her something to eat, but that her older brother and sister had joined the fasting club for the month.
We started Fasting Club when Max was big enough to start learning the principle of fasting - I had read about it from another deliberate mother a few months prior, and recalled it from my mind on a whim one morning as I was grumbling to myself about all the food I needed to get out for the girls, while simultaneously watching a boy who looked about as sad as could be as he entered the kitchen. I didn't want a spirit of sadness surrounding this principle, and realized that both he and I could use a little "fun" in the process. "Bud," I said, "Do you want to be in the Fasting Club with dad and I?" The light in his eyes - excitement, energy and enthusiasm to do something his sisters wouldn't yet be part of was enough to shift his energy from sad to excited. "Yes!" He jumped as he said the words.
And so it began. I didn't really even know what our "club" was - but soon realized it didn't need much. The "club" has evolved into a handful of simple actions - chatting about fast Sunday and a focus the night before. The morning of, I'll write a note and leave it at the stairs - a simple invitation to join the fasting club - no pressure - but a helpful reminder for them as they typically roll right into breakfast. Sometimes I'll put a specific scripture on there for them to study before getting ready, and sometimes it's more general to let them guide their own study.
At least with the older two, entrance to the club has began right around the age of 8. I'd love to say we have grand conversations, or that we do special scripture study together, but in reality, most of what we say and do is in-between the hair-styling and car-driving on the way to church. Because in reality, I'm juggling that part solo as Mike is serving in a variety of capacities that use that window of time prior to church. I used to beat myself up that I couldn't seem to "get it together" enough to carve out time just with them to all sit together while the little ones slept or played quietly on their own (ha!), but then I realized that embracing the chaos, flowing with the mornings, giving them opportunities to strengthen their personal spirits, and then circling up together in those pockets that we had was absolutely enough.
Back to the kitchen earlier this month as Tayler came downstairs.
"Mom. I'm ready. I want to join Fasting Club today."
Surprised, I looked at her for a moment, really digesting what she'd just offered up. "You know that means no breakfast, and you wouldn't be eating until later today, right?"
"Yep. I'm ready."
I'd love to say that in this moment I faithfully agreed with her, believing that she had the capacity to start something "big," but in honesty, I doubted. I paused, hesitated and really thought about maybe pushing her toward eating breakfast and waiting for when she was older and more "capable."
Yet, in that pause, I looked at her. She had so much light in her eyes. This girl was far more capable than was giving her credit for. She knew what she was asking to do. She'd seen it in the examples of her siblings month after month. And this daughter of God was striving. Striving to become something bigger that day. Who was I to take that from her?
So she jumped in. I let her add her signature to the paper at the top of the stairs.
Fast forward to church that morning, when she then leaned over to me and said "mom, I want to go up and bear my testimony today. Think I can do it?"
This surprised me even more than our first request. Typically, this gal is happily coloring while the speakers chat, and on fast Sunday, when members of the congregation voluntarily go up and share their thoughts on Jesus Christ.
Again I paused. Thankfully, I was reminded of the earlier internal conversation, and I again looked into her eyes and saw the eagerness and light. As much as I wanted to say that she hadn't thought of what to say, or that she wouldn't know what to do, or that she simply wasn't "enough" the thought came to mind: Who am I to take this experience from her?
And so she went. Mike happily went up with her, and helped her get the stool so she'd be tall enough to see over the pulpit.
And then he sat down.
Her face was so full of light, genuine love, and her six-year old eyes had a look of nerves as she saw the congregation for the first time from that perspective. For a moment, I thought she'd smile, freeze up and back away, but she didn't.
With a shake in her voice, she shared sincere genuine truths about Jesus Christ, serving and loving others.
Tears swelled in my eyes, as my heart was ready to burst.
The Spirit reminded me in these moments that my role as their mother, as much as it is full of directing, guiding, above all it is to NURTURE.
To teach them how to grow on their own.
To let them stretch beyond where they are now.
To create spaces and opportunities for them to dig into their roots, and stand strong in the winds of life.
To nourish them with love, truth and light.
These last few weeks have really reminded me how much I have to learn from them - how much I can "behold" from them - and what the gift of Christmas is truly about.
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