You know that mother-daughter thing? Those negative vibes some mother-daughter pairs can't get away from? A post has been swirling in my head for weeks about this, and I think tonight is release night.
You've probably surmised if you've read here long that I have this problem with my own mother? If the answer is yes, then I've not honoured my mother the way I should--the way the Bible commands me to. Let me say then that my mother is a very sensitive, nice person, and she loves me unconditionally. She was a good mother, doing her best with what she knew--ultimately leaving me with a legacy of love.
Now, about that mother-daughter thing......which we certainly suffer from.
What in the world is it? Can you put your finger on it in your
own life, exactly?
I can offer a well-remembered example, to try and illustrate:
My body was at its roundest in high school. I remember seeing a perpetual lump at the top of my outer thigh, where my legs were meatiest.
Growing up I lived in San Diego off and on, including during my high school years. Once while our family enjoyed a day at Mission Bay, my mother responded to my weight concerns as follows:
"
Except for a little weight at the top of your thighs, your body is fine--not fat."
I was probably sixteen at the time. Around the age of twenty my body thinned and my thighs stopped haunting me....that is, until the varicose veins of pregnancy took up permanent residence on my right inner thigh--but let's not go there. I'll just say that I hope to get a vein stripping done someday, since there is pain involved on a cyclical basis with this type of varicose vein. I think my husband secretly hopes I get it stripped, too.
But I digress...horrifying you, I'm sure.
I'm forty-five years old now, but I still remember that day at the Bay. My mother was right, of course. That
was my only fat spot
. She wasn't being mean-spirited. So, why was I bothered? Why so hurt? And why do I still remember it?
A few weeks ago I bathed my girls for evening church, and then laid out Mary's clothes with instructions, while I continued getting Beth ready.
As we were entering the church building that night I noticed Mary had on her brown leather shoes, instead of her black leather--the black leather being perfect for her outfit. It was an accident, brought on by her excitement over a visitor we had in the house while we prepared for church. Mary just forgot my instructions when it was time to get shoes on. I didn't notice because my husband put her in the car.
Not thinking, I said, "Mary, those shoes don't look right with that dress! They look awful! Why didn't you put on the black ones--the ones I laid out?"
She skipped to her class, hearing me, but only mildly fazed--which is a good thing.
I take great pains to dress my kids nicely, and I was more put out than I'd like to admit. I mean, the shoes clashed horribly!
The Holy Spirit halted me, however; I said nothing more. In fact, later that night as I tucked her in, I apologized for saying her shoes looked awful.
The Holy Spirit
really spoke to me that night.
Be careful! That's how it starts, was the whisper.
Little comments like that....don't poison your relationship with unnecessary commentary on her appearance. Say something nice, or say nothing.
My daughters both have naturally curly hair that looks beautiful right out of the bath, and on humid days. But in the morning after a night of sleep, the curls are mostly gone, leaving a slight wave, and sometimes a stringy, unruly look. I've tried different things to revive them, but nothing works, short of wetting the hair in the shower again--something I don't have time for, though they love the shower and would be happy to do it.
The Holy Spirit has spoken to me, again, about this appearance issue--this time in relation to hair. I never say their hair doesn't look as nice in the mornings. But I mess with it, eyeing it critically as I work--sometimes asking them back for another try, if it's a particularly bad hair day.
And why? What's the purpose? Who cares what a little girl's hair looks like, as long as it's not knotty or dirty?
Oh, I'm sure some girls do care and
want Mom to work on it....but not my girls. They don't want anything in their hair and they can hardly stand still for a hairbrush.
Am I kidding myself that they don't know my feelings about their morning hair? Of course they do! And shame on me! I should be telling them how perfectly God made them.....not critically fussing with their hair every morning.
Mary wears traditional pajamas at night, or cotton pieces I've tossed into her pajama drawer because I was unable to get a stain out of them. As long as they're soft enough, I recycle stained pieces as PJ's.
Well, Mary loves the comfort of cotton pants, and loves to put them on during the day, instead of a jean ensemble or other outfit I've laid out. She doesn't care whether pieces match or not; comfort is everything. She'll wear what I chose for outings, but at home, she wants her way.
At first I fought this laissez faire attitude of hers.....if someone came to the door, I didn't want her looking like a ragamuffin.
Is my false pride screaming at you now?
Ugly, isn't it?
After a month or so, I let it all go, at the Holy Spirit's prompting. This was His message to me:
You like clothing ensembles and neatness. She likes comfort. Don't try to make her your clone. Let her be who I've created her to be. She's mine. Be her cheerleader, not her critic.
The Holy Spirit isn't done with me on this mother-daughter thing. And honestly, I'm
so grateful! This is just the beginning of His whispers, for He knows the desire of my heart....of my daughters' hearts. We want
wholeness in our relationship--never brokenness. I want to guide Mary and Beth in who
He wants them to be...all the while being their most loyal, enthusiastic cheerleader. I want to build them up, pouring out unconditional love.
The Holy Spirit will do the hard work of refining, just as he does with me. I need not chisel away at my daughters' perceived, or actual, flaws. I can pray, and trust in His heart miracles.
My daughters--my children, for that matter--aren't my
projects.
They're my blessings!
