The Battle Worth Fighting

The stadium was full of Mom's with bling-covered jerseys on and each of them had a big pin-on-button with their son's picture on it. The stadium also had Dad's in work attire straight from the office. It was all new to me. Seventh grade football in Texas; this was the first home game. This was my own son's first attempt at football. I was more accustom to the Saturday soccer mom scene and this felt like foreign territory. Honestly, I could not understand the hype. I sat down to watch the game feeling awkward and very alone. The game started and very quickly our team scored. My son put his helmet on and stepped on the field. I suddenly felt nervous for him. He was the kicker. In seventh grade the point after kick is worth two points, not just one. This meant every kick counted a little more. I was almost a nervous wreck by the time they set up for the kick. He kicked and the ball sailed through the uprights. The crowd cheered, the cheerleaders hit play on the sound system and the school fight song started to play as they launched into their dance routine. Without realizing why, my eyes filled with tears. I instantly realized why the moms had the big picture buttons, and yes! I wanted one. I realized why the Dads had come straight from the office and I wanted my son's Dad there. I didn't have a big button but I could fix that; his Dad wasn't there, and never would be there to see him kick a point after, or a field goal, or to see any of his or his sister's many accomplishments. I sat there crying tears of joy, pride, and grief – just like I had at so many events for both of my children before. And I knew it wouldn't be the last time either.

When my children were small, my daughter 7 and my son a five month old infant, I was widowed. I honestly don't know where the years have gone. Now my daughter is an adult and my son is a teenager and I am still a single parent doing the best I can to raise Christian children in a single parent home. We are a family with God as dad and head of household. Many statistics are available about the daunting odds my children face. Reason, logic, and psychological studies say that my children are more likely to struggle and fail. My faith counters that. My faith tells me that these are God's children. My faith and my experience tell me that God is greater than the statistics.

I am not going to pretend my children are perfect. I am certain that if I allowed them to contribute a chapter to this work titled "mistakes my mother made" it would be a long chapter. I am also certain that by prayer, consistent intention to follow God's leading, grace, and love, I now see two Christian people that I am blessed to call my children. I often look at who they are becoming and marvel at all that God has done, all that God is doing, and all that I am confident God will do in our lives. God is doing a mighty work in our lives.

I will never forget the day my daughter came home from science club with a box that contained the parts for building a small wood car. When I opened the box, there was a block of wood. A perfectly square wood block, some metal rods and four plastic wheels were all of the contents inside the box. Somehow, I was supposed to help her transform this into a race car. I looked at this “kit” and asked God “Really?! You want me to build a car?!” I was overwhelmed and completely out of my league. I couldn’t even make dinner with great success, how was I going to build a car?! The next Sunday while in Sunday school class, I was sharing my complete lack of knowledge and skill in the area of building wooden cars, and how thoroughly overwhelmed I was by the task. One of the class members volunteered to partner with my daughter and build her car. And that is how God Works. I have lived that a thousand times over as these past years have flown by. When I felt overwhelmed by a task in front of me, God would provide exactly the help needed. While raising a seven year old and an infant to college age and young adulthood seemed like an impossibly long journey, God has made it an amazing journey. And the time has passed so quickly. Almost every time I walk past my daughter’s bedroom, I gaze in and long for that young girl that would read every book she could find and talk to me about each moment of her day. I am awestruck at the woman she has become, and deeply treasure every moment of her years with me. I even treasure the moments filled with crying and arguing. The years flew by so fast that I can only say like so many others do, “I blinked and she grew up.”

Our journey and my life as a single mom is undoubtedly much like the lives of many single parents. I have identified areas where God had led me to be purposeful and intentional in parenting efforts. When I sit among the moms in the stadium, I know that my son is only going to be living in my home for a short time longer. I will soon have two rooms to gaze into and remember. I want to treasure every moment and watch every game and even get a big button pin with his picture on it! When I was widowed, the task of raising these two young children as a single Mom seemed absolutely overwhelming. Yet in what seems like the blink of an eye, I was watching my daughter stride into her high school graduation wearing a mass of honor chords and a proud smile. Too soon she had moved into a college dorm, and then was walking across that University graduation stage. I know it won't be very long, and the place kicker on that middle school football field will do the same.

I can remember walking into my late-husband’s funeral holding my daughters hand and carrying my son in his infant car seat, and thinking that I could not possibly get them through high school alone. What I have learned so well is that I didn't; I have not been alone. God has provided, consoled, led, comforted, and performed untold numbers of miracles. God is the reason for my daughter's proud smile, academic success and scholarship to college. God is the authority in our household.

A couple years after that first point after touchdown kick, I was sitting at a party watching the Super Bowl. It was so fun to be with other adults watching the game. It was the first time in many years that I watched the Super Bowl this way. It happened because my son was invited to this party, and the parents of the kids invited were also included. I was enjoying myself so much! I was having a fabulous conversation with a mom I had known prior to this event through my work. As we talked, she commented on how much she admired the sacrifices I had made for the good of my children. Honestly until she said “you have literally died to self for the benefit of your children,” I had never really thought about it. I guess it was true in some ways. I intentionally decided that I would put the needs of my children in front of my own. I wanted them to have all of the opportunities that children who have two parents living in the same house have. I didn’t want them to be without support or supervision, so I no longer did some of the hobbies I used to enjoy. I didn’t want them to not excel at the sports and activities, and the academics they had a passion for, so I spent almost every night of the week taking them to practices and tutors and private lessons. I didn’t exactly make a conscious decision to do all this. It was one small choice after another, made out of love, guided by God. Our task is simply this – to love sacrificially, without losing so much of ourselves that we have nothing left to give the next day. We must know that if we continue to love our children well, and keep God’s will first and our desires behind His will, then we can count on our God to be there with us in the fight and hand the victory to our family.