Could I climb the highest place in Athens, I would lift up my voice and proclaim, “Fellow citizens, why do you burn and scrape every stone to gather wealth, and take so little care of your children to whom you must one day relinquish all?”
Socrates on Athenian society. Circa 390 B.C.
This morning like other mornings I enjoyed the company of my son. I intensely enjoy his pressense. My goal is to raise him in such a way that we always enjoy each others company.
We started our morning by snuggling and wrestling in our dark bedroom, the he went downstairs to have some one on one time with Daddy, back upstairs for more wrestling. Between 7:30 and 8:00 he always gets a little board and I can tell he wants to move on with the morning so we head downstairs.
Our ritual continues as we go from window to window pulling up the shades as we sing, “This is the Day that the Lord has Made.” The Babe-Ca-Bob sits in his seat and eats Cheerios and I read to him. This morning we read to the beautiful Sense and Sensibility soundtrack. Our selected book was the darling, “This is Paris.” Afterwords I held the Bible in one hand and Little Darling in another -we read Psalm 119 outloud and prayed very specifically for 10 family members as we did laps around the first floor.
The heat is still out and so his cute little lumberjack hat was on his head the whole time. Space heaters cranked. Every morning at 8:30 we head upstairs for even more instense one on one time. We nurse and rock and sing upstairs in his room. The looks I receive during this time as I sing and provide his favorite milkies are one of absolute, sheer adoration. I cry just about every morning. Finally at 9 he goes down for his nap.
Being a mother has provided me with an opportunity to play the ultimate hostess. No longer just creating a world for Joel and I, now I can create the world that I have always dreamed of for an entire family. (or I can try at least!) Our home is becoming more and more a sanctuary. Calm. Music. Affection. Nature. Candlelight. Quiet. Cozy. Breezy. Dinnertime.
I am child of the Father, wife, “ultimate Momma Goddess” (that is Joel’s nicname for me on account of the way P.R. looks at me) and I have the very important role of warrior! I stand at the doors of my house with sword blazing carefully selecting what is allowed into our world. Disfunctional, manipulative relationships, 95% of television, and electronic babysitters are not welcome.
I want my children to grow up remembering the windows open, access to the garden and nature whenever possible, I want them to crave music; soft in the mornings and loud with dancing thru the living room to celebrate! I want them to remember me in the kitchen, quoting the Word and Daddy reading the Bible after mealtime. I want them to remember the refuge of our home, not the blare of a television in the background or the phone ringing off the hook. I want their brains to be clear to think, create and imagine. I want them to love the smell of their favorite book and to look forward to reading a new one.
I can impact a generation. I can raise my children surrounded by the word of God, art, music, books. When I decide not to turn on the televsion I am impacting a generation. When I pray outloud with my family I am changing a generation. When I fight for nightly meals together I am changing a generation. By pouring “what so ever things are good” into the little vessels that God has given (and is going to give) me I can change a generation.
We can all change a generation. Raising our children to be “in this world but not OF this world” is proving to be no easy task. It requires US to be in this world but not of this world! Our homes are bombarded with temptations. How much easier would it be to have 15 after school activities, 550 channels, 4 phone lines and drive thru meals? Fight with me Moms. Let’s carefully chose who teaches our children. Be it entertainment or neighborhood friends. Let’s fight to create memories. Let’s fight to create clear, uncluttered minds. Let’s fight to create little hearts with the Word of God inscribed on them. If Socrates was fearful for the children of his generation 2,300 years ago then standing at our doors with swords blazing should be no exageration.
Is there any better task we could put our hands too?
Honey for a Child’s Heart. -Gladys Hunt
Mitten Strings for God. -Katrina Kenison