There are many memories of my mom growing up that stuck.

– My mom always played music in our living room- Amy Grant, Hosanna, Michael Card, all that 80s-90s Christian music.
– I remember sitting on the couch looking out the window next to my mom as she ironed and prayed. When she was stressed she prayed. A lot. I mean … She prayed a lot!
– I remember her trying to spank me…to no avail. … she prayed a lot !
– I remember I always wanted her to wake me up because she did so nicely, “Rise and Shine!” and would carefully open my curtains. I was not… still am not… easy to wake up and my dad would resort to pulling off my covers and trying to physically pull me out of bed… didn’t work.
– I remember her opening all the windows when it was cold-to celebrate the cold weather! I loved that!
– I remember getting spanked with the back of the brush because I would throw a fit as she brushed the “rats nests”‘ out of my hair.
– I remember her laughing at me whenever I threw a fit because I lost a game.
– I remember I threw a lot of fits…. and she prayed a lot…. and laughed a lot.
– I remember going to her to cry when 7th grade just sucked.
– I remember her look of knowing which guy was NOT “the” guy and which guy WAS “the” guy.

So much she knew about me and didn’t know of me. She was always surprised by superpower physical strength that caused her inability to spank me & was never surprised by my outburst of losing a game of candy land.

Olivia is two and a half. She has her good days and not so good days. I stay at home with her and would like to say I know her very well, however there’s always this part of me that feels like I don’t know her at all. It’s more like I’m continually learning her. Before having her, in my mind I thought as her mom I would know her better than anyone, she moved and grew inside of me, she’ll be with me more than anyone else. Everyday since she’s been born I’ve found that to be extremely false. There’s this feeling I get as she sleeps, when I kiss her and stroke her hair a hundred times before I go to bed, that I don’t know her better than anyone – I’m learning her better than anyone. I can’t possibly know what her personality and interests will be when she’s 5, 15, 30, or 70. I don’t know if or when she’ll have her heart broken. I don’t know what she’ll be when she grows up. I have zero control over her destiny. I’m just her mom.
I’m not the fun one. Our days are very routine and predictable. I often wonder what she’ll remember of me.
Becoming her mom has made me want more than ever to sit down with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and pick her brain of the memories she has when Jesus was young. There’s so much we didn’t hear about in the Bible of him growing up.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed of the things I think I should teach Olivia. What I should put her in- because maybe she will become a famous Olympian or the next Bethany Dillon or some genius Doogie Howser. Seriously these are specific things that have crossed my mind. If she is to be an Olympian- I need to put her in gymnastics like … yesterday. If she’s going to be Bethany Dillion – Ernie needs to start teaching her guitar and I should teach her how to read music and I should play music more often. If she’s going to be Doogie Howser I need to read to her all the time, practice letters and numbers with her, use medical terms. I know. Crazy, right? But am I alone? I don’t think so. I think Mary did the same. She knew the amazing gift of Jesus and couldn’t wait for him to show them off. But again, it wasn’t in her control.

Matt Chandler said something that has significantly stuck. “Relax! You are just average.” Ouch? No. God does have a great amazing destiny for our lives but that great amazing destiny isn’t always in the public eye, it’s where you are, where God has you at this very moment. And I do have a huge responsibility as a mom, but the chances of her being famous are about one in a million and what control do I have over that? zero.

When I really dig down deep and think about who I would want Olivia to be- her being famous is frivolous & ridiculous. When I pray over her I don’t pray for her to be smart and talented, I pray for her to be a good friend, to love others well, to love and serve Jesus, to gain wisdom through his word. Once again, these are not things I can control, but as her mom they’re things I can direct her in. Mary had a responsibility as Jesus’ mom to be obedient to what God called her to do (Matthew 1:21).

Whether I just have Olivia or God gives us 20 more kids, whether I stay at home or go back to work, whatever I do -my responsibility to God and to my family is to surrender my life plan as Mary surrendered, to be obedient in where God has me as Mary was obedient, to love and serve well, and to trust him with the rest.

… and to pray… a lot!