Showoff

As a mother of four children, I have seen just a small portion of how God has made each one of us unique. As we are told, he knows the number of hairs on our head. He is a proud Papa to all of us. It is hard to imagine that He cares more about my children then I do, but He does, and apparently He knew I needed to understand that.

My second son just started middle school, the hardest time of a child’s life, in my opinion. I knew that my Nolan was going to be different. He is very emotional (like his mother). He has such a tender heart and struggles with anxiety. Add puberty, and I was nervous wreck about his first day. I planned a meeting in advance with his guidance counselor to alleviate a lot of his fears and concerns. The meeting went well. Both Nolan and I were feeling so much better. I was so proud of him entering the bus with his head held high for the first day of school.

When I picked him up from the bus stop, it only took two seconds to see a multitude of feelings and emotions on his sweet face – none of which comforted my mamma’s heart. I gripped the steering wheel, took a deep breath and asked.

On his FIRST day, in his SECOND class of the day, a boy sitting behind him wacked him across the neck for no apparent reason. He, of course, did not tell the teacher. My blood started to boil when he added that he had just been punched on the bus. Turns out a fight broke out between two boys sitting next to him and one of them “accidentally” punched him. I found myself not knowing how to respond, considering that the guidance counselor and myself, had just told him three days earlier, what a great school this was, and that he had no worries. I “calmly” asked him to tell the teacher and bus driver if this occurred again. My calm façade ended there. I blasted my infuriation on my Facebook status, but had the grace enough to ask for prayer as an after thought.

The next morning, he begged not to go on the bus, and I caved. I figured just dealing with a class bully would be enough for the day. I agreed to pick him up also. Dread covered every part of his face and posture. Once again, I could only come up with a lame comment about telling the teacher, and dropped him off feeling like an incompetent mother.

All day, I worried, and my stomach hurt. (Did I mention I’m like my son?) My last minute thought for prayer the previous day on Facebook forgotten, I worked and counted the hours till I picked him up.

I met a completely different Nolan as I pulled in to pick him up. He bounced in the car announcing that he loved all of his teachers. Not choosing to volunteer any more information. I waited, but couldn’t stand it. I had to ask.

As an after thought he nonchalantly answered, “Oh, yeah. He got moved. I’m sitting next to my best friend.”

As he happily chattered, I thought about my Facebook that needed a serious update. You see, all day long I kept getting comments of all the people praying for my son. I got home and changed my status knowing that God, the master storyteller, had just sold a best seller about how special we are to him. He could have just moved the bully, but he had gone one step further by handing Nolan a best friend.

I try to be the best parent I can, but as my kids grow, I’m having to learn that lesson, that they are God’s children that he gave to me, not the other way around. He designed and knows Nolan more then I ever could. I can’t be with Nolan all the time, but God walks beside him all day long. My prayers that night were uttered with a final name calling to Nolan’s heavenly Father: “Show-off.”

*Copyright 2009 Michelle Rocker