One night, Hubby and I stood in the kitchen, trying to catch our breath after one particularly long day of ripping and running with and for the little people. For some reason, we expected some token of appreciation from Think Tank for all our not-so-unconditional love. Not any bowing, scraping, or groveling, mind you. A tiny “thank you, you’re the greatest” would have sufficed.
Instead, he responded, “But isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? You did it for Crusader and Songbird.”
Well, then.
As a child, my mama spent Saturday mornings playing Shirley Caesar music, and she’d put extra feeling into “No Charge.” I didn’t get it then. But I’m singing backup to Mama right now. Parenting is not for the faint of heart; it takes nearly all we’ve got just to feed, clothe, and teach our little people. To provide the basics that keep our friends from talking about us and the police from knocking at our door.
Then there are the less quantitative, but more qualitative responsibilities of loving on, forgiving, disciplining, nurturing, listening to, praying for, helping, etc., that God lays on our heart. These heavenly treasures will continue to shine brightly when the rest burn away to ash. I’m not sure where sleepovers, homemade ice cream, new cars, sleep deprivation, lip gloss shopping, dance lessons, college educations, bedtime stories, and theater classes fall, but we certainly can squeeze them into one category or the other.
You’d never catch Beatrice Agnew hosting a sleepover, let along singing about love. My character in A Long Time Comin’ took dying to self quite literally. She gave her all in raising her seven children, and she didn’t stand around expecting a “thank you” or doling out hugs. According to Beatrice, parenting meant that “Sometimes you gotta turn yo’ back on whatchu love and wrap yo’ arms tight ’round whatchu don’t…” That didn’t leave much room for joy.
Yet her granddaughter, Evelyn, believed love brought more, not less. She wanted to transform her Granny B’s “supposed to” into a “wanted to,” to help her embrace the blessing of her sacrifice. After all, when Jesus gave His all for us, it was so that our joy would be full. He made love a verb and a noun, what He did because of who He is.
Just who am I? A parent, who at that moment was quite weary with well-doing, despite the Apostle Paul’s admonition to the contrary in Galatians 6:9. But once we picked ourselves—and Think Tank—off the floor, we thought about our own attitudes toward sacrificial love. And talked about it and fussed about it and lectured him and all the rest of the little people who took that inopportune moment to walk into the kitchen. After all, everybody knows that once tornadic winds start blowing, they tend to sweep everything and everybody up into its funnel.
Believe it or not, I’m grateful for Think Tank and his rather pointed question. It acted as a mirror that clearly reflected what was beating in our hearts. Whether or not he intended to, he reminded us that mercy, grace, peace, and joy ride on the coattails of God’s outpouring of love; they certainly should’ve been passengers in our car that night. So, from now on, we’ll make plenty of room for this spiritual fruit right up front and put our son in the back. No thanks necessary, Think Tank. Trust me, this is what we want to do.
Robin W. Pearson, Author of A Long Time Comin’
Find me at Robin W. Pearson and on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
“Then LORD answered me and said: “Write the vision
And make it plain on tablets,
That he may run who reads it.” Habakkuk 2:2
This debut has my attention and is on order at the library. I’m already a blog subscriber. Thanks for letting us get to know Robin W. Pearson.
I love Robin’s new book. Here’s hoping to see many more books written by Robin. Thanks for being a subscriber to my blog.