A Pom-Pom Pep Talk

   

    The alarm clock said 7:23 in red numbers. Seven-twenty-three in the morning? It was Monday, Lydia had to be at school in 7 minutes. How did my alarm not go off? Pulling on my robe I tried to calmly wake her up. As I gathered her bag she asked, “Mom shouldn’t I bring my winter stuff?” Frantically I recalled that her “winter stuff” was somewhere strewn about the basement in totes we loaded and stored last March. Looking at the oven clock, 7:27AM. “I can do this,” I whispered as I two-stepped it down the stairs to the basement storage room. “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength,” I cheered to myself.

    After making a bigger mess of gloves, scarves, forgotten coats and snow pants I found what we needed. Huffing and puffing after the swift assent of the stairs I handed her a Walmart sack of her winter gear and off she went to school in the white mini van.

    Surprise! It's Monday morning and I am not ready. Life has a way of showing up when I want to hit the snooze. Thankfully I woke up just in the knick of time to get her off onto her day.  Turning away from the back door I marched into the two remaining bedrooms of sleeping children to raise them for school. After grumbling and angry declarations of “I am up!” underneath piled blankets and pillows they finally emerged. In 20 minutes they joined their sister at school grouchy but clothed for a new week of education.

    I didn’t know how hard it would be to wrangle three children out of bed every school day when I sat in Brad’s Cutless enjoying the scenery of the lake we had decided to picnic at. We were engaged to be married and as we looked out into the blue sky and green foliage of trees and grass blowing in the gentle April breeze our future seemed endless with peaceful possibilities. “I want to have three kids I think.” I said with my freshly painted toes perched on the open window. He looked at me with a smile, “I bet you will be a great mom someday.”

    Flash forward to the present as I park the van in the school parking lot to attend “Moms in Prayer” I feel barely coherent for the day. Mentally jogging my mind: did I brush my teeth? Yes. Did I put on clothes? Yes. Ok, I sigh, I am ready to represent the Singleton family then. I have to be, I have no choice.

    I have struggled to feel like I fit in at the Christian school because I find parenting three children to demand all of me. Monday mornings bare the truth, my struggle isn’t hidden behind fashionable clothes or flawless make-up and hair. But I have learned a little secret to allowing myself to be seen as I really am. I take out pom-poms and give myself a cheer. “Dianne, you belong because God has made a way for you, you can be yourself.”

   As silly as that may sound, it somehow calms my fears of judgment. It somehow helps me to be kinder to myself. I then can allow others into my cluttered, spontaneous, and weird little world.  On this hectic morning, I joined the small group of ladies. Together we poured out our hearts for the school and students. I smiled to myself that I was able to be myself, honest, and broken.

   This is a small miracle considering my Christian school history. I went to a Christian school as a child for Kindergarten and first grade. It was a very strict school that didn’t allow girls to wear pants. For gym and recess we could put shorts or pants on under our dresses so that we could play in modesty.

    In those days my own mother was so uptight about how the other mothers viewed her that she hung back and watched from a distance. Sadly, I gathered that fear and internalized the lesson I learned from her. To fit in with churchy people you must be a better form of yourself. You must not wear less than perfect clothes, and you must always put on a happy face. You must aim to be the best at everything you do for God and more importantly for God’s people that are watching.

   Such warped views later drove us from the church as a family.  When in high school, I would return to God I would make sure that I had perfected the outward image, so no one ever excluded me again. But time has a way of working the truth out of you. This I believe is one of time’s greatest gifts.

    The turning point came through the challenge of motherhood. It brought me to a moment of truth. One by one the children came and with each of them a completely new personality and set of challenges. In my scramble to make my life work with three little people the act began to crumble as I discovered my need for real help.

   Sitting in a bible study I sat prepared to be in control and ready to report how God was using me in great ways. Instead reality overwhelmed me to tears as I humbly asked for prayer. Children were harder than I thought, and eventually brought me to my knees. In that broken condition I had to get the pom-poms out and give myself a cheer: “Dianne, God has called you to love these children and try your best. You are called to be a mom and you can do this with God’s help.” And so the honesty started to come out. I struggled to keep my patience, I struggled to stay above the demands, I struggled to keep a good meal on the table and socks in the drawers and papers off the table, and library books returned….

   In 2013 we decided to enroll our son Isaiah in Christian school. He was excited to try out his sixth-grade year at a private school, but I was afraid. Somehow I felt like I was transported to 1983 and as I stood in the parking lot watching him walk in for the first day I felt like my mother did. Desperately, I wanted to belong, but I felt held back by the old fear, “I am not a good enough parent and everyone will know.”

   I am ashamed it took me a process of three years to overcome the old thoughts and fears to accept the truth God had been whispering in my heart all along, “Dianne you are accepted and loved because I have made a way for you.”

   I need those little pom-pom moments in my life. They help me to let go of the past hurts, fears, and conclusions to reach out to a new way, a new day, and a new hope.

    I am thankful to say that God has helped me to accept myself as a humble mother that doesn’t have it all together. If I did, you probably wouldn’t want to read this blogJ And there is something to cheering yourself on in the truth, you deserve it and so do I.

   Life is meant to be lived to the fullest, not to perfection, so, however, messy your life looks let me encourage you with this: God is cheering you on to better things, so take up the pom-poms and agree with him.