In our house we often take advantage of Saturday mornings and have a big breakfast. We do the kind that takes lots of preparation and the extra time that we don't have on the other days of the week. Last Saturday Timothy was off work and we went down to the kitchen. I started the coffee. Timothy started gathering the supplies to make pancakes. I turned to my youngest child, "Hey! How about you come upstairs with Mama? I'll help you get dressed." He turned to me and smiled. "Nope. I'm going to stay here and help Papa make pancakes."
Anyone who has ever attempted a baking project with the "help" of someone who is small knows that it is actually just one giant disaster. Haphazard measurements with significant portions of the ingredients on the counter or the floor. Flour everywhere. Egg shells in your pancake batter. Batter that somehow gets stirred up onto the cupboards.
But sometimes making pancakes isn't so much about making pancakes as it is about what we are learning in the process. Besides making memories with his Papa, he is learning to crack eggs. He is learning to stir, he is learning to clean up flour... (read: he is learning to use a wash cloth to spread flour around on the counter, the cupboard and the floor. Another day I will discuss the oxymoronic concept of "cleaning" projects with people under the age of 8.) If we never let the kids "help" with the cooking, they aren't going to learn. If I go into this with "help" I need to acknowledge, "this is going to be messy... but it's going to be good. We are learning and we are growing,"
All the odd shaped scarves that have been first knitting projects, and first sketches, and rough drafts... they all stand as monuments declaring that learning is a process and usually we don't do something well without hours and hours of practice.
In my finer parenting moments I can step back and appreciate all of what is happening. My kids are learning and growing. They are having experiences that are going to shape them. I actually really like to be clean. I like to have an organized house. I like to be efficient. Clean, Organized, Efficient. Kids are rarely any of these things.
I like to do things well. I like to work hard and go into things that I know that I can do well. I don't really like to step into places where I think there is a good chance things might get messy or I'm likely to fail. But, if I'm not willing to get messy, am I living into all the growth that God has planned for me?
Where my finer parenting moments fail, His abound. I can stand on the edge of fear, and say, "I'm afraid to do this. I don't think that I can move forward without making a huge mess." But this is how we learn and grow. I watched my "helping" kiddo and I suddenly had a realization. God is far less concerned about the messes I make than I am. I'm not sure He really cares at all if we are clean, efficient and organized. He cares that we are learning and growing and encouraging the people around us to do the same.
What if I stop living in fear of the mess and I welcome the learning that comes in the process? Can I let go of my desire to control and walk freely into the learning that God has in store for me?
Are you standing on the edge of something really big? Maybe God is calling you to come bake with Him. If you listen closely you might hear Him say, "Hey kiddo. I know you are about to make a mess. That's okay. I want you to work with me. Stand on this stool. Grab an egg. It's kind of tricky. Don't worry. We eat pancakes with shells in them all the time."
