I used to take pride in my parenting skills. Not that I did everything right. God knows no one does. Maybe pride isn’t the right word. But I tried to approach parenting as a “challenge and an opportunity” as my late husband often said. I tried to be fair, treating each of my children as the distinctly different people they are, yet with consistency. I didn’t rely on parenting self-help books or put too much credence in psychological theorizing. Rather, I sought wisdom from the Bible and from others I felt had endured some of the same challenges I faced, first as a single parent and subsequently as a “blended” family. My husband and I were careful to present a unified front, and tried not to react in anger. Although I know there were areas where my decisions erred on the side of caution I considered myself blessed to have three wonderful children who are high functioning adults. All good right?

Then came “This is Us”.

Yes, a television show has shattered any illusions I had about being mother of the year, or even a runner-up. Without giving away any spoilers to those who may not be current on this season, there was the episode where Rebecca, the perfect mom, sat watching old family movies, crying over the memories. And I cried right along with her. My tears, however, were because I realized that I didn’t HAVE any movies or videos of my children or family. Not one. First major motherhood failure.

And then there was the episode when Jack, the perfect dad, was going through a tough time and was not his usual charming self. Of course, before the episode’s end he realized his foul mood was affecting his children, and he allowed a free for all in the form of a confetti fight break out, without concern of the mess or the cleanup that might ensue. And perfect mom Rebecca’s only response was to smile and say “I’m not cleaning it up “. No yelling, no time outs, no drama.

Major motherhood failure number two. I cried again, this time because I realized that I didn’t play enough, didn’t allow my children to just let loose once in a while without worrying about the mess. I mean, I told them that Play Dough was an outside toy because I didn’t want it stuck in the carpet! What good mother does that?

And of course there is the ever present theme that runs through the entire show – the idea that, no matter what, they have each other’s back. Even if they don’t share the same life goals, or career paths; even if they live on opposite coasts; even if they are alternately (or simultaneously) struggling with addiction, a moral crisis, an emotional breakdown; even if they aren’t biological siblings in the true sense of the word. No matter what, these three adult children of the seemingly perfect parents are always there for each other.

Which is the one thing I hope I have successfully taught to my own three children. That family is it. Whether or not you like the same music, whether you are “Marvel” or “DC”, no matter where you live or who you marry (or don’t marry). Family is where you get to practice unconditional love, the place where you should feel safe to be yourself. And where you let others do the same.

I have encouraged my children many times to stay connected to each other, to maintain the relationships that are the most precious. Without trying to sound morbid, I have told them that there will come a time when their father and I won’t be here to plan gatherings and foster conversations. All they will have is each other.

So on that count, I seem to be on the same page as the perfect parents Bec and Jack.

In a recent episode the Big Three, as they refer to their collective selves, were at a high school graduation party, discussing their futures and what their relationship would be like. Randall wisely said “As long as we stay in each other’s lives we’ll be okay.” Amen to that Randall.

So we may not have any movies (a ton of pictures though), and maybe my children were stifled by not experiencing enough uninhibited play times. Maybe you won’t see me on the cover of Parent magazine, and you can rest assured there are things I wish I had done differently. But I take comfort in knowing that as long as they stay in each other’s lives, they’ll be okay. Thanks “This is Us”.

Definition of retreat (Entry 1 of 2) (Merriam Webster’s Dictionary)
1a(1) : an act or process of withdrawing especially from what is difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable
I wish I could live my life on retreat. A quiet place, away from the intrusive noise and distraction of the day to day. Just me and God; a time to rest and refuel. But not just for a day or two, or even a week. For good. Recently, I came across this verse in Jeremiah 9:2 – “Oh, that I could go away and forget my people and live in a traveler’s shack in the desert.” Clearly not the teaching intended for that morning, but words I certainly resonate with.
Of course, I would love to convince everyone (including myself) that my intentions are highly spiritual, desiring only to spend time connecting with the God of my understanding, praising Him and seeking wisdom from above. But that’s not the case. My motives are purely selfish, driven by the sometimes overwhelming circumstances of life and the fatigue which results from trying, day after day, to do the right thing.
It’s wearying- the bickering among families and friends; the discontent spewed on social media; the negative news and natural disasters. The thing that makes it exhausting is that, despite my best efforts, nothing changes. No matter what I do or say, I cannot “fix” the ills of the world, or even my own or those in my own family. And oftentimes it feels as if God isn’t bothering with them either, even though he certainly could, for “nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 18:27, Matt, 19:26). So why bother.
I’ve been accused of putting my head in the sand because of these feelings, this desire to run away from the world and hide, at least figuratively. But after 62 years of daily “trudging the road of happy destiny”[1], to coin a phrase, I am just plain tired. Especially when it seems there are no results from my “trudging”.
When will I see those promises that “all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose”? (Romans 8:28); that “my God will supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:19); that whatever we ask in His name, He will do? (John 14:13).
I recently finished a study based on a book by Lysa Terkeurst called It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way, in which the author writes in the introduction: “Disappointment isn’t proof that God is withholding good things from us. Sometimes it’s His way of leading us home”. Presumably home is with God. Ah, the old “reliance on God and not others” challenge. Which conceivably justifies my shack in the wilderness scenario. Free from the things that distract and disappoint.

But, alas, I don’t think that’s what God had in mind. (Does anyone really use “alas” in a sentence?) While I can certainly understand Jeremiah’s frustration when he cried out those words, saying that he would “weep day and night” (Jer. 9:1b). It seemed that all the warnings and laments that he shared with his people fell on deaf ears, and he was heartsick. But God had a plan, one that neither Jeremiah or the people he preached to could envision. (Jer. 29:11-14).
And He still does. On the days when I can see past my self-centered desires and the plans I had that are not falling into place as I had expected; when I let humility creep in just enough to acknowledge that I don’t always know what’s best for everyone; then I can believe that “As for God, His way is perfect; The word of the Lord is proven; He is a shield to all who trust Him” (Ps. 18:30).
So for now I will stay, even though it may be “difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable”. I will trudge on, doing what I can to make my little part of the world a better place, even if I don’t see the results I would like to see. I will continue to make those “retreats” from my chair rather than to a literal shack in the wilderness (mine would have to be on a deserted beach); to spend time with God refreshing and refueling as often as I can; to “give comfort to my friends when they’re hurting and …make it seem better for a while”[2] (in the words of that great theologian Iris DeMent).
I recently shared a verse with one of my children that is a good reminder on days when I feel like running away-Habakkuk 3:17-18- “Though the fig tree may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines; though the labor of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; Though the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stall-Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.”
It’s not about retreating when things aren’t going my way; it’s about trusting and trudging when they’re not. Hope some of you will trudge with me.
[1] AA Big Book, p. 164
[2] Iris DeMent, “My Life”