Noah will begin 8th grade in a week. He did really well last year in his middle school debut, except for his last marking period math grade. His effort reminded me of the last ember of a firework – it begins so bright and brilliantly, but fizzles and falls in its final moments.Mom was on Noah – I mean, on him. Poor kid must have felt like I was literally riding on his back. I asked him everyday about his homework and test scores and study habits…and priorities and future and self-respect. Where did he think failing a math test was going to get him? Did he think Harvard wouldn’t be looking at 7th grade math tests? When he is thirty-five, and working as rat infested sewer inspector, this math test would haunt him each day as he trudged through the human waste wondering where his life went wrong - I reminded him gently.
O, how I love my kid.
Yesterday, Noah looked at me and smiled. “Ready for school to start?” he asked. I found his question particularly amusing since it is him, as opposed to me, who has to get back into study mode, but then I understood his meaning.
We are on this journey together, my son and I - grades, adolescence, misunderstandings, unnecessary freak outs and grade point pressure, sometimes winning, sometimes losing, sometimes really screwing up. Another mother told me this summer that she calls Noah “The Ambassador of Goodwill” on the baseball diamond. As he played first base, she watched him greet each batter from the other team with a handshake and a, “Good hit!” I didn’t tell her about the math test, or how sometimes his mother forgets how wonderful he is.
I think it’s the same way that God feels about me. Sometimes His chest is bursting with joy as He watches me love someone well and at other times He shakes His head as I fail the test.
But we’re on this journey together, my God and I.
Yesterday, Noah looked at me and smiled. “Ready for school to start?” he asked. I found his question particularly amusing since it is him, as opposed to me, who has to get back into study mode, but then I understood his meaning.
We are on this journey together, my son and I - grades, adolescence, misunderstandings, unnecessary freak outs and grade point pressure, sometimes winning, sometimes losing, sometimes really screwing up. Another mother told me this summer that she calls Noah “The Ambassador of Goodwill” on the baseball diamond. As he played first base, she watched him greet each batter from the other team with a handshake and a, “Good hit!” I didn’t tell her about the math test, or how sometimes his mother forgets how wonderful he is.
I think it’s the same way that God feels about me. Sometimes His chest is bursting with joy as He watches me love someone well and at other times He shakes His head as I fail the test.
But we’re on this journey together, my God and I.
O, how He loves His kid.
1 comment:
I don't think God ever shakes His head at you. I think He smiles one of those "oh well" smiles and merely waits for you to have an "ah-ha!!' moment.
Learning isn't just for school anymore. : ) It happens all life long. (but don't tell that to the kids - it's good to give them hope)
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