Reckless Abandon

"I long to worship Jesus with the heart of a child, in a state of pure and true adoration. Yet so many things of the world cloud my thoughts and pull on my heart until it's no longer just a girl in the arms of the Father"
~ Darlene Schacht ~
"The Mom Complex"

One of the many blessings about being part of a church family is the way everyone rallies together to help their own. When my fourth child was born, several ladies of the congregation got together and devised a schedule whereby someone brought dinner to us every night for two weeks! I was blown over by the outpouring of love.

On one particular afternoon, a woman that I didn’t know particularly well was coming by with dinner. She had never been to my home and I wanted to make a good impression on her. She was a little older than me and it was important to me at the time for her to think I was a good homemaker who could handle four children, as my husband and I received quite a bit of flack about creating such a large family.

First, I made sure the children were wearing clothes. My daughters, then 6 and 8, liked to wear their swimsuits all day (it was July in Texas). My son, who was 21 months old, if left alone for two minutes, could be found totally naked, running through the house with reckless abandon, with a piece of bologna stuck to his forehead. He also kept a spare piece of bologna stuck to the door of his room, should he need it later. I removed the bologna, dressed him, put him in a chair and threatened him within an inch of his life, should he dare to move. I then changed the baby’s diaper, checked her face for dried spit-up, dressed her in a cute little outfit, and put her in the baby bed.

Then, I looked at the kid’s rooms. They were destroyed. With precious little time left before the woman from church was to arrive, I opened the closet door and crammed their toys in as fast as I could. I then leaned in until the latch caught and the door stayed closed. All the while, my children stood in awe watching their mom scramble around, huffing and puffing and mumbling things about kids not appreciating all the toys they have.

With barely a moment to spare, the doorbell rang. With one last look around the house, I checked myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Then the baby started screaming. Having already checked to see who was at the door, I instructed my 8-year-old, Sweet Pea, to open the door and let the lady from church in while I went to get the baby. Sweet Pea apparently opened the door, asked the lady to come in, and showed her where to put the food then said, “Come here. I want to show you something.”

She took the lady by the hand and sweetly led her down the hall to her room. With my now calm baby in my arms, I followed their voices down the hall. I rounded the corner to her room just in time to see Sweet Pea open the door to the closet as an avalanche of toys tumbled out into the room.

I was mortified. My overwhelming goal for the day was to impress this lady. My great concern was what she was thinking about me, while my daughter simply wanted her to see us as we really were. In one innocent move, she cut through the façade as if to say, “I want you to see us on the inside; I want you to see us as we really are” and opened the closet door to our hearts to let the junk out.

I learned something that day. I learned that it is not important what others think you are. What is important is what you really are. Children seem to understand this. We teach them to love Jesus, to sing praises to him, and they do so with reckless abandon, like the naked toddler running through the house with bologna stuck to his forehead. Then, as we get older, we become more concerned with what others think about us to the point that it affects our ability to focus on God and worship him.

What lessons have you learned from your children?

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children,

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child

is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 18:3-4