The Hardest Job of All

Parenting. It's hard. Some say it's the hardest job of all--and they're right.

But probably not for the reasons they mean.

The hard part of parenting is not the sleepless nights, or early mornings. It isn't fitful sleep, bad dreams or night terrors. It's not about managing the illnesses or trying, in vain, to comfort a child who won't be consoled.

The hard part of parenting isn't the combined thousands of trips to the changing table and training seats. And it's not the cumbersome load of diapers, wipes, food, bibs, bottles, clothing, blankets and a stroller that must be carried if Mommy plans be away from the house for more than 2 hours.

The hard part of parenting is not the carrying of a 20-pound ball of flesh on the hip all day. It isn't brushing small teeth in an uncooperative mouth, or repositioning shoes on a child who won't keep them on, given half a chance to take them off.

The hard part of parenting is not buying the week's groceries with small children in tow, or keeping a baby from squishing the bread in the cart. It is neither about spending so much of the day in preparing 3 squares a day, cutting food into small bites, or mopping up the damage.

The hard part of parenting has never been about dressing the babies--three times before lunch! And it isn't about doing 10 loads of laundry every week.

The hard part of parenting isn't the cost of music lessons or sports equipment, as the case may be. It isn't about managing time to get it all in and making sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. It isn't even about the driving here, there and everywhere.

The hard part of parenting isn't the loss of privacy because there is always a pair of ears listening or a set of eyes watching. It isn't because of the loss of "me" time. It isn't about how difficult it is to set the next manicure appointment or find a sitter so that Mommy can see a doctor when she's sick.

Those are all hard things. The kinds of things that make a caregiver cry out for mercy. I remember. They are exhausting things. But they are not the hard part of parenting.

The hard part of parenting, frankly, is the part that is easiest to cast aside. After all, everyone's doing it, it seems.

The hardest part of parenting is the part where God calls me to recognize the foolishness that is bound up in the hearts of my children, and from it--liberate them...His way.

I am tempted to let it slide when they huff or puff or roll their eyes at my instruction. But to react so, is to selfishly act against God's laws. And it is sin, and it must be dealt with.

I am too busy to watch, listen, discern and remove the evil that lies so subtly behind the politeness of their passive rebellion. But it is sin, and it must be dealt with.

I am too comfortable to get up and deal biblical discipline to my children for their blatant disregard of my last instruction at bedtime, "Time for sleep. Lay still and be quiet."

Because...really...I don't want to interrupt their giggling. They're playing so nicely together.

But they are disobeying me, and they know it. And they know that I know it too. And a part of them is waiting to see what I will do about it. I know this because one of my young ones told me so, "But Mommy, yesterday I did it, and you didn't do anything about it. *sniffle whimper*"

Yes, she really did.

I am reluctant to do the hard work necessary to train a little one early to stay the course and keep to her calling until the work is complete. Because she doesn't mean any harm.

I am prone to nag instead.

I am afraid to ask more of them then they are ready to give, even when their pace is so slow, that they're at risk of actually moving backwards in a task! Because they're still just. so. little.

But it's not about what they can't do; it's about what they're unwilling to do.

I am weary of the conversations that help to teach my child to grow in the control of her own spirit so that she will not be weak against her temptations and someday be destroyed by their consequences. Because, after all, I'm still here to protect them.

I worry that maybe it's not really my job to pick their friends for them. But I know that many a young person's demise is the company they keep.

I act as though I'm unsure of the need to raise little ones to be accountable to the same God and standards as am I, but Jesus said not to hinder them--He loves them.

I am too often amused or entertained by their sin. I'm even tempted to see it as blog fodder. But truth be told, that little sin grows with them, and sooner than later Mommy will be living with a monster of her own creation. I think then it won't be so funny.

And with my own very different girls, I find that the hardest part of parenting is finding and walking that fine line between training up a child in the way she should go, and exasperating her to wrath. It's striving to guide each child in knowing right from wrong, encouraging her to exercise the power in meekness, feeding her His Holy Word to train her to think like Christ and love others has He does.

And praying for her salvation fervently, knowing that by the alternative has many a mother's heart been broken.

This business of raising children into adults is a very hard job, indeed. But the fruit...oh, that glorious day when their fruit will bloom! It is all worth it when I anticipate the joy set before me.