My teenage daughter is always late for school. No, that is not fair, she was on time today so ‘always’ would be an exaggeration. ‘Mostly’ late for school is a better word… And I am a proper, self-confessed ‘helicopter mother’. If you don’t know about helicopter parenting then let me explain, we hover and wait for things not to go as planned. It doesn’t take long, they are teenagers after all. Then we jump in and rescue the child from impending doom. We go home and make a cup of tea and pat ourselves on the back, saving our children from life is hard work.
Disasters come in all shapes: Late for school? don’t worry just jump into my car and I will break every road traffic law to get you to school on time. Lost your English literature book? Again? I am on Amazon ordering you a new copy before you even finished that smoothie I just made you. Forgot your PE kit? Don’t fret, I will drop it off at the school office. Last time I dropped the PE kit, I apologised to the lady at reception, ‘I know I should just let her suffer the consequences but…’ She cut me off, face stern, ‘I have given up telling you parents to stop saving your children.’
Now, don’t you judge me, I am not stupid… I am aware that they will not learn to take the stupid PE kit to school if they know I will run after them with it when they do. I know… I share with you because I made myself laugh today whilst weaving in and out of traffic, trying to get to school before the pink slips get handed out. I nearly got hit by a number of cars and buses on the way, not due to my driving…I don’t think it was due to my driving… My thought with every near miss was not, ‘Gosh, I am glad no damage was caused to the cars or people.’ No, no my friend, my thought was, ‘Gosh, glad I didn’t need to stop and get out of the car.’ Why? Because I had jumped into the car in my PJ’s and flip flops, hair unbrushed and dirty. I had brushed my teeth, that that was a relief. So, I was grateful that I was not in a collision so that I didn’t have to been seen out on the road looking like I had slept on that road.
We spoke about finding our identity in Jesus last night in our women’s group and not in the superficial, in the way we dress and what we look like. Perhaps I still need to work more on where I find my identity because what I looked like really mattered to me this morning. God doesn’t care about my PJ’s, he cares about my heart.
Now, please excuse me, I have a helicopter to polish and prepare for take off, the lunch box that was left on the kitchen counter needs to be flown to school…