Sici’s locker notes to self
When I held my first born girl in the dark of my belly, I knew before I knew almost any other thing: This child is wise.
I cannot explain exactly how this awareness rested full in my body, but it did, and I felt daily her wisdom gift inside me, with its solid and pulsing presence all its own.
More than ten years since, my girl lives it over and over again.
Recently I taught Sici’s Sunday School class, as I do once a month. The kids and I shared conversations about God and his faithfulness that morning. They talked about their dreams for the future. We even laughed good and hearty.
One of the boys continued pushing my buttons through class — seemingly trying to shock the kids and me with inappropriate and strange stories. He got up regularly from his seat, distracted other students. I tried to roll with it, encouraged glimmers of good in his sharing and made clear boundaries regarding the inappropriate stuff.
During closing prayer, with heads bowed and eyes closed, the boy drew the metal basket of ballpoint pens from the center of the table to himself, folding them over and over one another, until the room filled with clanging against metal.
I’d had it.
Without fully forming my thought, I told him, mouth pointed and head thrust forward, “Don’t ever do that during prayer again. It’s incredibly disrespectful,” and then realizing I had unfinished business, closed my eyes and said, “In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Oh my.
I looked up and saw wide-eyed and wide-mouthed kid faces staring back at me, all but confirming that I was indeed the crazy lady, and they’d all seen it right out there in the open.
As kids filed out at the end of class, I walked to the boy and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so glad you were here,” I told him. “Looking forward to seeing you next time.” (I meant it. I love this kid.)
But I felt sick as I gathered my papers and cleaned the classroom. Shame hung heavy.
So I asked my ten-year-old girl, Sici, if her regular teacher had ever spoken so pointedly to the kids. I was sure I’d blown it, but wanted to know just how badly.
“You are two totally different people, so I don’t think I should answer that question,” she began.
“Because if I tell you she’s never done that, you’re going to feel bad about yourself. But if I tell you she has, you’re going to feel better, but not for the right reasons.”
Whoa.
In that moment, my girl cut to my heart. And the heart of the matter.
In her wisdom, she understands the comparison trap both sharp and sticky.
She knows nice words aren’t intended to be the balm for deeper needs — the kind that cannot be fully satisfied by another.
She knows that if our measuring stick is those around us, we’ll find it continually shifting, whether by our own jostling or by false perceptions of the other or by our skewed vision as we believe again the lie that we are not enough.
Have you been blessed by the words of a wise child? Do you struggle with the sharp-toothed comparison trap? When you feel you’ve blown it, what do you remind yourself?
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Ashley-I loved this. As a full time working mother of two I mostly feel like I’m blowing it. Somewhere. Always falling short. Trying to always do my best but never feeling enough. I loved this piece, and it reminds me that we are all just human. I try to focus and remember that as long as we continue to reflect on our actions and have the will to continue to grow and learn from those actions then we are doing just fine. Some people and some children are not as lucky to have people in their lives striving each day to do better, be better and be their best.
Not to forget we often raise our voices and loser our tempers in hopes of making these children the best they can be. I love your writing!
Carrie, I hear you! With all the hats we wear, it makes sense that we’d perpetually feel as if we’ve just lost one or one is ready to fall off. You are so right about reminding ourselves we are just human — frail, imperfect, doing our best, in need of saving. Something about accepting that which we already know (we are human!) can be so freeing. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
wow. that sici. love her locker notes. i should hang those up in my house! as for the boy in the class….he had it comin’. :)
I know — aren’t they great reminders? That little stinker…pretty loveable in that stinker boy kinda way.
I have been privy to the analytical and thoughtful Sici. I don’t call her ‘Fraulein Einstein’ for nothing .I love Sici’s curiosity, thirst for knowledge and her joy in the quest for discovery. I love that girl!
She loves you too! You’re right — such joy for her in discovery, whether it be in matters of the heart, world, spirit or head. She’s a keeper.
Kids have such a way of going right to the point! Loved this! And love your way of writing. :)
Thanks so much, Johanna! So happy to see you here. Yes, I’m grateful for that pointed word right where I needed it. :)
There’s something about that sickly sweet honeypot of a comparison trap…..something us Mothers get caught up in far too often, well I know I do anyway.
Me too, Fiona! We mamas need to help set each other free!
Thanks for sharing. It’s amazing how much we learn from our kids!
Thanks, Annie. Always, always, continually learning…
Sometimes wisdom comes from the mouths of the young…what a special young lady you have on your hands!
Don’t beat yourself up about what happened, at times I’ve made similar mistakes as a teacher! The most important thing is admitting your reaction was wrong and continuing to find positives in even the “most challenging” of young people! :)
She is special! We’re always learning, aren’t we?
I can’t even remember how many times I have been “schooled” by my 11 year old. Out of the mouth of babes, indeed. Your daughter sounds very wise indeed.
“Schooled” is most definitely the word. I want to continue to be teachable and thankful when God uses these young girls to speak to me. Thanks for your comment, Alia. Grateful for our new connection. :)
I think I need to borrow Sici for awhile. I’m thinking I could learn a lot about myself in a short amount of time! Love her sweet honesty. Praise God for the wisdom!
I think everyone needs a Sici in her life. :) So nice to see you here, friend.
It’s true. Sici is a wise, sage, deeply thoughtful, compassionate girl. I don’t dispute the fact that she was destined to be so; but at work here too is the way you and Mike have spoken so openly with her since her earliest years, rarely succumbing to shorthand answers, always time to talk, satisfying her curiosity with your own wise words. ~~~ I love the second part of her Sunday school answer especially! That’s brilliance! You will feel better, but it won’t be for the right reasons! ~~~ seriously?!? Hang a shingle Sici!
:) This girl is amazing! Love her so much! xoxox
Haha! You’re right, Mama. Sici is so amazing! Leave it to you to find a way to encourage me in this. You, mama, you! :)
It was years of teaching full-time that taught me patience is often a learned skill/behavior… and even then we can make mistakes and forgive ourselves:)
I can’t add a thing to what your Mama said. Sici learned her wisdom from her Mama and Daddy.You are both her greatest blessings!
Ashley your last words were words of love. Can tell you learned from the experience :). Perhaps request sici’s insigjts in a light one-On- one conversation about ways to handle future “disturbances”. You never know how god used your interaction w him. Hugs