Confession

By fits and starts,  I have mothered  three children to adulthood, and they still love on me.  The point of this is to either supply you with a story that allows you to shake your head and say, “I’d never do that,” or to cause you to breathe a sigh of relief and whisper, “There’s hope for me.”

My first advice as a new mother was the nurse reminding me, “Always put Baby on his tummy.” To even find this picture I had to Google bad sleep practices.  I put new baby in the crib. He hunched one shoulder until he resembled a convoluted S, burbled twice and went to sleep.  I spent many a night repositioning until I decided he hadn’t heard the directions. (For the first time.) Since he survived, I told myself I could manage mothering.

Following this intuitive guidebook,  I (gasp!) lost contact with a child, not once, but twice.  Time one I was 7 months pregnant and the sister in law I traded children with had sent me her two girls.  I took a 9, 6, 5, and almost 4 year old to Galveston in a Texas summer. I don’t know what else we did, but ended up with a trip to the Aquarium. I was leading a duck line down the hall to the restrooms before a drive home. Checking back, the four year old with a feather in his back was no longer anywhere in sight.  None of my group remembered when he was last seen.  I sat survivors down and went to ask for an announcement of a lost child.  The door that led to the parking lot opened, and a hot sweaty tike marched in. Of course, we loved and watered and didn’t scold.  To this day, he has never discussed what happened.  He still travels with me, so maybe trauma wasn’t insurmountable.

Time two, our family now had a 3 year old girl to anchor the group.  We were at Galleria watching ice skaters, and there were only two instead of three.  I told the boys to hold on to the rink rail and watch while I made the circle.  I came around to the office where one bought tickets and saw the right color dress marching toward the seller.  I swooped her up to suddenly have a screaming dervish in my arms.  Head was twisted and her back arched as she declared, “Put me down!  I’m going to tell him my name and number!!”  The lesson of what to do had stuck.  Give me points for that.

I’d like the make the excuse that I didn’t lose them; they wandered off.  We do that. Sometimes we turn around and retrace our steps.  Sometimes we declare that we really know what to do.  Whatever the situation, God leaves the rest of the flock and makes sure that we safely join them again. That always is his plan.

 For thus says the Lord God, “Indeed, I Myself will search for My sheep and seek them out.”  Ezekiel 34:11