There is this new-ish song that has become a Jessica Tincher anthem (apparently it is called “Hideaway” and is sang by someone named Daya… which I seriously didn’t know until I just looked it up). The interesting thing about this song is that it seems to be a big shoutout to the plight of the single Mom, and therefore should not at all be relatable to me, as I have given birth to exactly 0 children.
"Girls seem to like the boys who don't appreciate all the money and the time that it takes to be fly as a Mother."
Still, every time I hear those lyrics, I make the “this is my jam face” and belt it out. While I love a lot of babies that aren’t entirely mine, I cannot even fathom how hard it is to be a single Mom… but I have a friend who really does. Jeanette is a single Mom to 7 top notch kids that I’m lucky to love. She survived genocide in her home country, she moved to the US with her former husband and 6 kiddos (and added one more to the family) as refugees, and she survived a divorce. She supports 7 kids by working night shifts at Walmart and is a real life superwoman.
She and I have completely different backgrounds and half the time we cannot understand each other, yet somehow she has a way of teaching me more about parenting than any of the countless child development or counseling classes I’ve taken ever could.
One prime example came from last Christmas Eve. I came over after a LONG day, super grouchy, and told the kids after they opened each present they needed to share with everyone something a family member had done to bless them that year. It became something really beautiful, as everyone gave speeches and cried their eyes out… we didn’t even have tissues, we just let the ugly crying happen. It took two hours to open about 20 presents, and it was the single best thing I’ve ever been a part of.
Of all of the speeches, one really stood out to me. In every single speech about the oldest Son, people pointed out that he had really changed in the last year and become more mature, better behaved, and was trying harder in school and at home. WE ARE TALKING ABOUT A TRANSFORMATION HERE. (**warning: proud gushy moment coming up**). In his speech about his Momma, he accounted for this change… he talked about how he always acted the worst, but she always gave him the best anyway. It’s true… of all of the siblings, he usually receives the best clothes, the biggest portions of food, the least amount of chores, and the most forgiveness. He said, “one day I realized maybe I should act the best, since that’s what she gives me all the time.”
I think too few people-- “boys,” parents, teachers, random people like me who just keep showing up at people’s houses in hopes they will let me play with their children (I am great at making myself sound creepy, aren’t I?)-- appreciate what can happen if, instead of just giving them the excess, you take the best portion of the love you have and give it to kids who are (for a season) the most difficult to love. Jeanette, who has never taken a child development class or wasted money on parenting books, does. Jesus, who made Jeanette in his image, does.
Where society wanted to put discipline and boundaries, Jeanette employed faithful love. Where “best practice” puts a three-strikes-you’re-out policy, Jeanette puts grace. I love that her way worked better, because it’s God’s way. <3
Not a shocking revelation: all I really want for my little life is to be fly as a mother (and daughter of the one true King, which conveniently makes me sound super sassy)... and a champion for global education, and hugger of many babies… but you know fly as a mother/wife/daughter of the one true King first and foremost. That’s why I spent Christmas with the best Mom I know...
To paraphrase the speech Jeanette gave about me on Christmas Eve, she mentioned she didn’t take me seriously for a long time because she thought I would stop showing up one day, like so many volunteers do for various reasons, but one day she realized I never would stop coming because I loved them like family-- which reminded her of their close-knit community in a refugee camp they lived in for years in Tanzania (her words: “when I think of Jessica, I think of Africa.” This statement made everyone stop crying and start laughing). I hope that by next Christmas she understands I don’t come out of the goodness in my own heart, but because of the goodness in hers. Every time I sit on her couch, I’m taking notes on how to be fly as a Mother.
