Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The Hardest Job

Maybe I said it before but I feel compelled to say it again. The hardest job in the world is being a parent. Not only is it the most difficult, it's the most important.

When I was a child, I could play outside after dark, go anywhere in the neighborhood, ride the bus to town and wander all over Polk Street--all without worrying that some crazy man was going to pick me up. I'm sure that happened, but we weren't scared about it. My friend, Anna Lou, and I would fix a lunch and walk about a mile and a half across vacant lots to a cemetery on the outskirts of Amarillo where we'd spend the day. This cemetery had a little bridge that went from the main area and the mill, over to to a small island. I don't know how we spent the day, but we stayed for hours. Then we'd walk home and our parents, knowing where we had been, weren't the least bit worried about us.

My brother was 7 years younger than I was and when Mother went shopping, many times he and I sat in the car--ALONE. Nobody ever noticed.

My girls in the 50s and 60s were able to play outside, ride their bikes to school and around the neighborhood--safely. I don't remember ever leaving them in the car alone until they were teenagers, and that would have been their choice to wait for me--if they went with me at all.

According to TV ads a parent has to have a GPS on their child and can't let them out of their sight. We hear about kids being stolen from their front yards and from a baseball field in plain sight of hundreds of people. I can't imagine the pressure that puts on parents. Not only do parents have to worry about what someone else will do to them, they have to be concerned about what their kids are seeing on TV, on the computer, in school and at their friends' houses. Who can they trust any more? How do they even choose a babysitter? Or do they just stay home unless they have a friend or family member to babysit?

As I've said before, I heard someone say we are putting people out from our high schools and colleges that have no moral compass. How will that affect your kids, parents?

Hard? Worse than hard. Frightening. That's why we have to grab hold of the Saviour and hold on tight. And we have to help our kids come to know Him and His power. Not just a long haired man in a Sunday School story, but a real, living, loving being who wants to have a relationship with them. When my oldest daughter was about 3 she had an imaginary friend. This friend was Dr. Kildaire from a TV program. He was with her all the time--sat in a chair when we ate, when we watched TV, when she went to bed. He wasn't someone far away in Los Angeles. He was her friend and was with her all the time. That's how our kids need to know Jesus. He's not someone far away in the sky that they'll one day meet in Heaven, but someone who lives in their house, in their heart, is with them at school and when they go to bed.

I wish I'd been as "wise" back then as I am now. :) I pray that all the Godly parents I know are teaching their kids to believe that "Jesus loves everyone, but I'm His favorite."

1 comment:

  1. I followed you here from Rosslyn's blog, and this post really spoke to me. I have two young children and am amazed daily at how much love they've kindled in me. Love, and fear.

    The sleepy little town I grew up in has become bigger with time. We have to lock our doors at night, have to take the keys out of our vehicles, and have to walk around being just a little leery of more than just the bears. It's still a great town, still pretty quiet, but I miss how it once was. And I miss it more for them.