Fear & "Loave(s)-ing"

I admit that I struggle daily with my natural inclination to fear and worry.  I fear and worry about our children the most:  their health and their psyche.  I tell people that, with this many children, my parenting goals are low:  as long as none of my children wind up on "Intervention", "Dateline" or A Pole, I've done my job.  Some view that as my laid-back parenting philosophy(:::Snort!:::), when (in truth) it's actually a mantra I have repeat to keep from worrying myself into becoming the much-dreaded helicopter parent. 

But, I can't help but wonder:  Are the seemingly small decisions and statements that I make on a daily basis going to be brought up on a psychologist's couch one day?  I mean, look at the parent interviews on those shows.  They always have the voice-over while the cute baby and young-kid pictures scroll across.  "She was always such a happy child..."  And then they flash to the child-now-addict/serial killer, and she's saying, "It all broke apart on that fateful night when I was 6, and my mom wouldn't let me eat two meatballs in my spaghetti...I only got one...:::crying hysterically:::I never felt loved after that..."  (OK, so I'm being overly dramatic on that example to get my point across, but really - how many times has the 'trigger' event for a kid going from Boy Scout to Homeless Street Dude Shooting Up in an Alley seemed somewhat innocuous to you?) 

This past week has really been a doozy for me on the whole fragility of life thing.  I won't go into details, but it seems as though the "comes in threes" rule has applied - and it hasn't been easy to be confronted head-on with just how fragile our existence is, and how really, nothing is ever guaranteed in this life.  This week I have had to face that this no-guarantee rule no longer just applies to me - it applies to my children's lives.  And, when faced with that, I became very fearful of their future and overwhelmed by my responsibility as their parent to keep them safe, healthy and happy (and off of a pole).

You would think that, having been faced for 9 long months with the ultimate unknown, and having walked through it held up and sustained by faith and the many fervent and heartfelt prayers offered up on our behalf by friends, family, prayer groups and churches, I would be a lot less fearful of stuff like that now.  Truth is, having proverbially rolled the dice and come out of it a winner (winner chicken dinner - sorry, couldn't resist), I'm probably more fearful now of the future and the dropping of the "other shoe" than I was before. 

::::Le Sigh:::

I had a long talk about this fear thing with a dear co-worker and friend yesterday, who sweetly reminded me that God has a purpose for everything;  and, along with His purpose for my life, He has a purpose for each of my children's lives that I am only a part of because of His divine choosing.  My role is merely to guide and nurture, raise up, and then throw out of the proverbial nest so that they can fulfill that purpose. After thinking on that some last night, I realized that it's not my place to develop, suggest or otherwise dictate my children's purpose.  So, I can at least temper that fear and responsibility.  (One down, fifteen ga-zillion to go...)

But, then I began to panic in the dawn (Gunner is going through something right now - teething? tummy? - so I'm back in the Newborn Nights things with him).  So,I thought, that's (that = train of thought above) all fine and dandy - until the reality of raising up FIVE right creeps in.  It's a daunting thought:  5 lives - and you are the one responsible for making sure that each doesn't divebomb faster than Heidi Montag's last single* when you do push them out of the nest. 

Five - multiples - multiplying...it can be overwhelming.  And I was mulling/praying over it this morning in the stillness (finally! at 4:30AM), while rocking Gunner, looking at his peaceful face, and freaking out because I realized that every mom and dad on "Intervention" and "Dateline" had probably, at some point, done the same thing, and look what had happened to their child?!?!... 

And then, I remembered the story of Jesus and the loaves and fishes, and, as I was mulling/praying over that story, it started to parallel so closely with our current life.   One baby = lots of baby stuff, expenses, love expanded.  Five babies = a house that looks like a "Hoarders - Babies R Us Edition" episode, constant yet controlled chaos, don't-even-want-to-think-about-it amount of money, and infinite amount of love pouring out. 

The factor of 1 multiplied (1 = God's grace and His provision) - sometimes by just enough, and other times by more than we can imagine, all to meet our needs. 

Faith requires more than just stepping "out" sometimes, I think.  Faith requires stepping out and believing in an abundance that only He can provide.  I can only imagine what I would have been thinking if I had been one in that crowd and had been asked to believe that this transient dude passing through could take a few lil fish and a lil bit o bread and feed the masses.  I would like to believe that I would have been one of the ones in the crowd believing, without fail.  But, I know me.  And, I know I'm just starting this journey.  I can guarantee you that I would have been the one with the "Yeah, riiiighhhhtttt" look on my face. 

So, when the fragility of our lives hits me...when the enormity of it all overwhelms me...when the fear grips my heart, I will try my best to remember the story of Loaves and Fishes.  And I will try to step out and believe that my best parenting is enough - because God's purpose is bigger than mine, and He is the ultimate Multiplier...not me. 

Stay tuned, and much love...

* Typically, I don't even post links to that junk, but it's worth a giggle or two...