But I Don't Have Any

Without my knowledge or control, we have ventured into a new but normal phase in our household. We are past the teeth-cutting, potty-training, time-outs of parenting. In one week, three teenagers will don the couches of the Flint home. The conversations I am able to have with my kids now are so enlightening. Although my chances of having one-on-one time may be greater since I home school, the opportunities are still there for every parent.

It has always struck me odd when kids choose to open the door into their heart and ask you to come in a have a seat - sometimes at the most inopportune time. Right in the middle of me explaining composite numbers. When I am frantically trying to get my hair finished because we are in a rush. While I'm focused on a new recipe for dinner. I wish I could say that every time these wonderful opportunities arise, that in all my perfectness, I drop whatever is at hand and divert all my attention to the child who is pleading for my time.

With great sorrow, I can tell you that I have not.

In their innocence, they really are not paying attention to what we are doing at that moment. They truly are not even aware nor really care. All they want is an attentive audience. Someone who can prove to them that they really, unconditionally love them. Someone who is willing to invest in them and hear their hurting or confused heart.

I am doing better the older I get. I've noticed that I no longer wait for the opportunity, but rather seek after them. Lately, I have begun asking my children on a daily basis if they are okay or if they have something on their heart they want to talk about. I have had numerous heart-wrenching talks with my daughter - she is 14 years old...need I say more?

It happened again yesterday. Right in the middle of a serious literature discussion, the word faith comes up. After explaining in detail what faith means, she nonchalantly tells me that she doesn't have any faith. I spent the next 20 minutes opening her eyes to how much faith she really does have. She had 100% faith as she sat in that chair, fully expecting that it would hold her up. She has complete faith in my driving skills every time she shuts the car door, completely trusting that I will get her to her destination. Without blinking an eye, she has the faith to believe that I will feed her a minimum of three times a day...and the list continues.

The discussion grew deeper since this is the child that has still not been healed of her deafness even though we have continued to pray for her over the past 12 years. In faith, we take her to the altar fulling expecting God's Will to come to fruition. And it has. It's still not His timing yet.

Explaining to your disabled daughter that only God can see the "big" picture and that in His eyes she is perfect, is not an easy task. She doesn't want to be deaf. She feels left out. Lonely. Tired of being different. And so we wait.

And in the waiting, we continue to practice our faith and teach our children the same. We help them work through their misguided anger and teach them that above all, God is still God and that He loves them just the way they are. When His Glory is ready to be revealed, then the miracle will take place.

Until then, we pray. And have faith. This is not the first time we've had this conversation and I know it won't be the last. It was important and necessary. She needed to hear this...again. She needed to weep in a safe environment and hear her momma's reassuring words...again.

I am so thankful that I didn't let the work or the schedule deter me from receiving a small piece of my daughter's heart. I'm sure there will be many more chances with all of my children, so, please, Lord, don't let me miss any of them.