Postcards from the Mess #6

Happy Friday, Friends!

This week, I am coming to you with something that has been sitting quietly, but heavily, on my heart lately.

Over the summer, we have found ourselves at playdates, pools, and playgrounds, surrounded by other families. And somewhere along the way, I have noticed something I do now before anything even happens. I brace.

I feel the tension in my shoulders when the boys start to get too rough; I start rehearsing the apology before anything has even gone wrong, and I hear my own voice grow sharp, gearing up to “parent.”

When they’re loud or rough in front of other families, it feels like public evidence of my mothering. So, without meaning to, I start needing them to perform so that it looks like, in our home, we practice what we preach.

Their behavior suddenly becomes my report card.

But whose approval am I really seeking in these moments?

Because I know their hearts, the values we are teaching, and the conversations we continue to have with our boys. I know that they are just boys, and each time they mess up is a moment they can learn from.

This knowledge only wobbles when there is an audience.

I’m doing my best to teach them, love them, discipline them, but it doesn’t always feel seen… and let’s face it, as moms, we really want our efforts to be seen.

But here is what I am trying to let sink in: God sees the whole of my mothering, not the highlight reel or the blooper reel that others catch. And He knows the intentions of my heart as a mom, as well as the growth and hope in the hearts of my boys.

And that is the tension I am sitting in: remembering who my audience actually is.

Share Messy Mercies

In 1 Samuel 16, God has sent a prophet (Samuel) to anoint the next king of Israel. As Samuel is looking over his options, he is drawn to the stronger, taller, more impressive brothers.

But God pulls him in a different direction with verse 7, saying, “For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

Reading back through this reminds me of something: looking at the outward appearance of others, their family dynamics, their children’s behavior, their own behavior… It’s a flaw of being human. We look at earthly things to convince us that we are on the right path.

That means that when other parents see the giant cannonball, the shove on the basketball court, or the meltdown over a popsicle… they are only getting a sliver of the picture. This is a human limitation, and it isn’t mine to manage.

But that is not God’s way…

When God sees the meltdowns, the shoves, and the disrespectful eye roll, He also has the full view of my home.

He sees what no one at the playground can: the bedtime conversations, the apologies I’ve coached them through, the prayers, the thousandth patient correction. The unseen work is fully seen.

God also sees right into the heart of my boys.

He sees two boys who are still learning, not two problems being managed. He sees a tired little boy stumble into my arms and apologize for the mistakes. He hears the quiet prayer at bedtime that asks for another chance.

When I brace myself in these settings, I am seeing them through imagined judgment. God never does.

So here is what I am holding onto this week: The audience that matters most already sees everything, and His verdict isn’t judgment; it’s a never-ending well of grace. And my goodness, am I thankful for that!

Until next week, Blair

P.S. If you're in the thick of the unseen work too - the bedtime conversations, the hard questions, the pointing-them-to-Jesus part of raising boys- I put together a guide of my favorite resources for raising boys who know God:

Raising Boys Who Know God

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Jun 23

Let me be clear: I am not a homeschool mom. We don’t have a curriculum. We have a crazy schedule, a packed sports calendar, and we show up to church on Sundays doing our best.