A Cliché That Isn’t

If you look up the definition of cliché, you will find it to mean:

~a trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse.

Maybe I’m just a simplistic nut, but, if something is popular or common thought, maybe that is because the people who have lived it, have found it to be true? I think what makes a cliché so irritating at times, is the manner in which it is rattled off. As I have stated in other Blog posts, we can say many things, but when it actually comes down to the dirt and grime and weeping with those who weep, we’d rather give them a cliché. For example, Romans 8:28. Why do these words hurt so much when they should provide the ultimate comfort for our life in Christ? Is it the words themselves? Well, that can’t be, considering they are the eternal Word of God portrayed. I would suggest it is the manner in which it is often said, without the care or hands of love behind it to bring the words to their ultimate fruition. Maybe we should be a part of making all things work together for good in the lives of our friends. I am as guilty of this at times as the next person.

As I’m getting older, I see more and more how many of the “clichés” I found people telling me are so incredibly true; true to the bone. I think of one in particular today, as I watch my sweet babies getting older before my eyes. A grumpy nurse, with no bedside manner whatsoever, rattled off to me as we were leaving the hospital with Maron, something to the affect of, “Enjoy this time while you can, before you know it they are grown up”. I of course, annoyed with how little she seemed to care about us except to make our leaving the hospital as difficult as possible, discounted what she said and went on about my life. Now, don’t get me wrong, she was definitely the best example of how not to use a cliché. But boy, that cliché rings loud and clear now. I was always so worried about my house being just perfect with Maron, or annoyed that she needed to be laying right next to me to fall asleep, or that my pants were now laden with her projectile poop. I let all of these inconveniences take away the precious moments I was losing and didn’t even know I was. I can still see that sweet little face (very little, probably only weeks or so old) about to drift off to sleep on the floor, but unable to because she saw mommy on the couch and wanted the comfort of being near me. And that projectile poop should have just made me laugh, and tickle her tummy as I cleaned it up, and try to enjoy that sweet smile that didn’t know what was even going on. I know I cherished my sweet baby girl, and I have plenty of those precious memories too. But oh the RIDICULOUS every-day life that would frustrate me so! To the point of giving me blinders, and making my little sweetheart seem an inconvenience, keeping me from seeing the sparkling bow of grace on my gift from God Almighty. Don’t think I am telling you you have to laugh every time their is a catastrophe, or that those difficult things aren’t really difficult. I only mean to say, look at how quickly that dirty child (from whatever mess it was) sees only the bubbles and toys in the bathtub, and their sweet mommy there to clean up the mess, hopefully, with joy.

At the risk of sounding morbid, I must say, I often think of how important my role to my children is and what it would be like if I passed away. I do not say that to sound prideful, or like God is not a perfect Father to those without fathers or mothers. I mean only to say, this is a delicate role He has designed, and it means much. Mothers not being at home to clean up the projectile poop because they are more in love with a career, does more damage than meaning someone else has to clean up the mess. Someone else has to clean up the mess in their hearts, as they look back and realize every milestone they experienced was shared with someone else, and that the woman that Titus says was designed to love them (and commanded to) and be maker/manager of their home, is not there. How precious a role it is, to nurture and train up, by example, in the home. They will do what they see us doing. They will value with their own children, what we value with them. I am very blessed to be able to stay home, because of my husband’s convictions and commitment to that. And to women whose husbands do not share this conviction, you can delight in your submission to that man, and know you are still pleasing God as you work by your husband’s command. But to those mothers that can be at home, and aren’t for their own reasons that are not necessary, I implore you, take this little cliché for what it is, and ask God to give you the ability and joy to love that little face that is before you today, because it won’t always be there.

God knows I am anything but the model parent. When you think of all the people in the world fit to be a parent, I fall very short of the ideal image. I feel often, God shows grace in my sin, that I might offer others grace in theirs. So may I, after only three small years of experience, offer you a cliché that really isn’t, today? You will never get this time back. No matter how many children you have, each child is unique and a special gift all their own, and while more children may come along for you to change, nurse, or love, they are not replacements for any child. If I can help with the dirt and grime, and laugh with you, to make the moment a memory rather than something to begrudge, I will gladly do it. They need to see us handling life’s speed bumps with grace, patience, and joy. As one of my favorite T-shirts says, we can change the world, one diaper at a time!

Your friend,
Rachel