The Parent

I need to clean my glasses.

I have spent the last three days
making Christmas happen,
and literally every time I have sat still for a minute,
I have said to myself,
“I need to clean my glasses.”

I am the parent, among other things.
I am the engine.
I am the initiator,
the concluder,
the gatherer,
the meaning and memory maker.

My time is spoken for.
My days are full.
I cannot add one more thing.
But, for heaven’s sake,
I have got to find time
to clean my glasses.

It’s a bigger job than it sounds.
It is essential in my role that I see clearly.
I have to allow for growth in
everyone.
Them, me.
All at the same time.
When you become a parent,
you are, in the same instant,
given something to hold and to let go of.
There are so many facets of it,
so many moving parts.
It’s absolutely dizzying.

Life teaches you things, doesn’t it?
God, the foundation of all being,
has woven learning into absolutely everything.
New revelations bloom like flowers,
sometimes sprout like weeds,
but they come forth all the dang time,
if we pay attention.

Life will soften us,
teach us flexibility,
broaden our horizons,
and take us to deeper places than we previously knew existed.

So much to weather,
and I worry that I may not have what it takes,
whatever that means.
But then I remember God,
and I remember the multitude of other good-intentioned souls
parenting right alongside me,
and I think to myself,

go on, take a second, clean those glasses,
and don’t be afraid
to see what there is to see.

God is with us.
We are with each other.
Together we will struggle and grow and hold and release,
keeping our eyes open all the while
for what will next be revealed,
and trusting God, through our living,
to teach us what we need to learn.


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