Our Tianjin homeschool outing at the hands-on Science Museum began with lighthearted laughter. My boys ran around with their preschool friends, putting their hands on literally everything. I relaxed into their freedom of fun as well, until one of the Moms brought out some worksheets. Now the kids needed to hunt for specific items in the museum and record what they found. 

The obvious problem was that my boys weren’t interested in those worksheets, and in order for me to feel good about myself as a mom, they needed to do what was expected. 

To their credit, they tried as best as energetic 4- and 5-year-old boys can. To God’s credit, He used what transpired that day to shine light and bring growth to my parenting.  

After the semi-completed worksheets were collected, we herded our kids into the wrap-around movie theater. The lights went out, and the picture and sound both blasted with shocking intensity. It was sensory overload at its finest, and one of mine began to scream at the top of his lungs. Horrified, I quickly gathered our things and we bumped our way down the aisle. 

I crouched as low as I could, but in my state of humiliation, I really wanted to be invisible. If the truth be known, I also wanted different kids. Kids who could stay focused, fill in all the blanks, and quietly watch a movie without making a scene. 

Outside the museum, the boys quietly climbed into the back of our Chinese three-wheeled “station wagon.” I white-knuckled the handlebars and pedaled with all my strength against the headwind, surrounded by a sea of bicycles, on the three-mile-journey-that-felt-like-a-hundred back to our apartment.  

On that exhausting ride home, God had my full attention and I was primed for a full confession. He revealed my hidden desire: that I wanted perfect children in order to look good as a mom. I repented of my performance-driven expectations that had hardened my heart toward my kids. God gently opened my eyes to see that when my son got freaked out over the movie, he had needed my comforting “That’s ok,” instead of my critical, “What’s wrong with you?”

God’s desire, I realized on that day of disaster, is for me to shepherd my children with His love and with ongoing repentance, as we journey to the cross where we can embrace Jesus our Shepherd together. 

“Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 3:13-14, NIV)