I learn a lot about God’s awesomeness in watching my child grow
and appreciating how much I have also matured in the process. I was one of
those mothers that never felt they were ready or good enough to raise another. In
fact, I might have said a few times that I didn’t want one of my own. I was so
conscious of my shortcomings that I had to discuss it with someone I respected
and also prayed about it. Whenever I mistakenly drop an object, I wondered how I
will be able to carry and tend to my child without hurting her. My worries
atimes take me past myself because now that I have a daughter, I am extra
conscious of the kind of people around her. I feel like I am the only one that
can watch over her perfectly.
I guess the way I feel is typical for first time mums and
even mums generally. Last week, I walked into the Daycare place to pick my daughter up
only to discover hot water poured on my child. I couldn’t alter a word as tears
streamed down my eyes imagining the pain she was in. I was both livid and sad. I
could hear the woman in charge muttering words but I couldn’t make any sense of
it. My fears came back to haunt me. Those voices from the earlier days were
speaking louder.
I had failed my child. I was supposed to have sensed she was
in trouble but I didn’t. I was suppose to have told them at the daycare that
she is a very active child and must be closely watched. I couldn’t even feel
any anger towards the woman at the daycare. I felt it was entirely my fault.
In the middle of all this self bashing, she opened her eyes
and smiled at me. She babbled and smiled some more like she was sharing a joke
with me. I smiled back through the tears in my eyes and I hoped she understood
just how soothing and reassuring her smile was.
All the lessons of the past months came back to me. I am her
mother but I can only do so much, the one watching over her is greater than me
and all my worries. God is the real parent, I am just a foster parent.
It might look bad but it is not always bad. The wounds are drying up fast and she has not thrown any tantrum or had any high temperature.
Peace lives in strange places. I could never have guessed that what I needed to calm myself was the smile of my wounded child. In that moment, I knew God was trying to tell me something.
God always leaves a channel to be thankful. In retrospect, I can see it could have been worse and I am just so thankful that she is fine.
I am indeed flawed but I am made perfect in God’s love. I see
His face in the bubbly smiles of my ten-month old telling me I am not here by
myself.
Love this post. I've learned from my friends that being a mother teaches you to accept your shortcomings, without the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. I believe babies are God's way of teaching us simple lessons our over- mature minds find difficult to grasp.
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