Friends and readers,
As I write this, nearly a week has passed since Laura and I shared the foundations of our parenting approach. I cannot express to you enough our gratitude for the time you have taken to share your thoughts and feedback with us. I know I have said this, but we are just truly stunned by your response. Your comments are brimming with ideas and questions and topics that we are still taking the time to sort through. What a blessing you have been to us already!
Last week, we decided to limit our discussions on parenting to one day a week. As a reminder, we are trying to respond to comments within the comment section, and we may not get to them all right away. Please know that we read and reflect on everything you take the time to share. The code for the blog button promoting our weekly dialogues is now up in the sidebar. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support in this!
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What I want to put out on the table for discussion today is something that I'm wrestling with. It's Sunday night as I write, and this topic has occupied my mind for days. The words aren't coming when I try to package this neatly; what I am going to have to do instead is just be very open, very transparent, and very raw with you.
On Wednesday, I spent a lot of time in reflective, conversational prayer. I prayed for God to help me to know why He has burdened Laura and me in this project, to help me to hear from Him if we are saying something that has already been said, to make me know that we aren't just putting more advice out there that might (unintentionally) confuse and frustrate new mothers even more.
AJ was fighting a cold last week, and I was up several times Wednesday night/Thursday morning rocking her. At one point while I was rocking her, I felt like God spoke clearly to me that it's about dying to self.
So much of what is spoken to mothers (in secular and Christian material) is about maintaining and reclaiming yourself after you become a mother, but we've heard so few suggestions that one worthy response to God entrusting you with this little one is dying to your devotion to yourself.
The perspective we share is not a popular one . . . this hard truth that the first year should be less about training our babies and more about allowing ourselves to be trained by Him. And yet we do believe that if we let Him, God can use that first intense year of baby's life to train us how to live a life that is fully surrendered to Him. Mothering with a servanthood approach can and will squeeze the very last drops of self out of us. If we yield to it, there is such potential for spiritual growth and for learning - in the most hands-on, real-life way possible - what it truly means to be a servant leader. It can be a year of transformation from which we emerge with a refined and sharpened perspective, equipped to experience other people, other relationships, and other situations through the eyes of a servant.
In discussing this with Laura, she reminded me that while dying to self very often means pouring ourselves out in service to others, that it all comes back to, and originates, with God's direction to do so. When we die to self, we aren't turning ourselves over to our babies or to other people as much as we are turning ourselves over to the Lord, who (among other things) leads and commands us to be servants of others.
In all honesty, this message had me on my face before God as I tried to process it all on Thursday morning. Why is this all so hard for me to say? Why have I wrestled over it? Because I don't really want to die to myself. How can I encourage others towards a philosophy I myself have not fully, completely, unflinchingly embraced?
We in the Western Church often give great lip service to the idea of servanthood. We understand completely that if we are to model our lives after the life of Christ, then we must choose the path of service. Christ reminded His disciples several times that He was among them as one who serves. The New Testament letters are filled with admonitions to consider others more important than ourselves and to serve one another wholeheartedly and in love. And so we agree to serve God by serving others, right up to the point where service encroaches on our comfort. When confronted with the cost of sustained servanthood . . . well, this is when we start to squirm.
Following the leadership of Christ and choosing a servanthood approach to parenting will cost you. It will cost you the luxury of uninterrupted sleep at night. It will cost you the security that is found in allowing the clock to put order on your day. It will cost you some of your "me time." It may even cost you some friendships with people in your faith community who vehemently disagree with this approach.
But what if as that first year of babyhood winds down and a toddler stands where your baby once lay, what if you looked in the mirror and realized that the one who has grown by leaps and bounds in the past year is you? What if you could see that in most every situation you encounter, your first response is no longer selfish retreat, but rather selfless embrace? Would it make you smile with humble gratitude to recognize that in each moment you chose to approach your baby with the heart of a servant, you were able to more closely relate to and identify with your Lord Jesus Christ than you ever had before?
Would it be worth the cost?
(a million thanks to Laura, who helped hone and focus my thoughts through phone calls and emails. You can't imagine the mess this would have been without her thoughtful, careful feedback and edits.)
