Before the earthquake, I was writing this article. Enjoy!
Wanna Be Like You
“Mama, can you show me what color underwear you have on?” Elisa asks, tugging on the waistband of my jeans.
Laughing, I bend down and tussle her hair with my fingers. “Why, honey?”
“’Cause I want to see if we match.”
I kiss my almost three-year-old daughter on the tip of her nose – the nose with the pert little ski jump, so similar to my own – and slide my pants over my hips to reveal pink and white stripes.
“Oh,” she says, disappointed. “Mine are purple.” She frowns, then brightens. “Can I go change, Mama? I have pink ones in my drawer.”
I hesitate, thinking of the added laundry, the wastefulness of changing clothes just so she can match her Mama. “Sure, honey. Go ahead and change.”
She scampers up the stairs, and a moment later, a pair of zebra-spotted purple panties come flying down the laundry chute. As I toss the toddler-sized undies into the washing machine, I smile. Elisa’s eagerness to be “just like Mama” in this small way is revealing. Even more revealing than the slightly tattered, pink and white striped unmentionables!
My daughter looks up to me. I am – for better or worse – her role model. In the small things, and in the big things. From the way I brush my teeth and tie my shoes to the way I love or don’t love others. The way I love – or don’t love – God.
When I sneak a chocolate chip cookie before dinner, she notices. When I retort sassily to something her daddy says, she notices. When I complain or grumble about a mundane task, she notices. She notices when my behavior doesn’t quite match the ideals I try to instill in her. She sees the inconsistencies, the impatience, and the ungratefulness. As I measure detergent and pour it into the rising tide of warm wash water, I am humbled. My daughter wants to be just like me, but I am not always a person I want her to be just like.
And yet, God formed her life within my frail human body. He who knows everything about me, every secret of my still sinful heart, determined that I was the right earthly mama for His precious daughter. He knew she would want to be like me, and still He entrusted her life to my care. He is so full of grace! The roles and responsibilities of motherhood are chisels in the Lord’s hands. Being a parent inspires me to holiness – never more so than on this Tuesday afternoon, as I watch flimsy purple panties swirl through soapy water.
