I tried to be a good mom today.
Last week, Uriah's class studied about plants, and the sign at Reeves Peach Farm said "YO APRIL, REMEMBER LAST YEAR WHEN YOU PICKED OUR STRAWBERRIES AND THEY WERE DELICIOUS? WE'VE GOT MORE WAITING ON YOU!" or something like that. I immediately knew that the boys would love going back, and Uriah was very excited when I mentioned it. So, this week at the grocery store I skipped the strawberry cartons and made plans to go to the strawberry fields.
I decided I wanted to take one kid at a time. I'd take Uriah today, and Ezra next week. I picked up Uriah from school, asked if he wanted to go pick strawberries (Resounding YES!) and drove a few miles down the road to Reeves'. Uriah and I cut up for a few minutes, and talked about all sorts of things. I asked him questions about what all the strawberry plants needed to grow, and he answered them quickly. We talked about who provided all of the things the strawberry needed to grow (Sunday School answer-JESUS!).
As the conversation went on, he began to talk about how hot he was. Next, he was sleepy. Matter of fact, he informed me he may go to sleep right there in the field. He kept dropping his Legos (the ones I tried to convince him to leave in the car). He asked to go home over and over.
"Is our bucket full yet?"
"This is taking a long time."
I tried to explain, if he would continue to help pick them, the bucket would fill faster.
As I tried to reason with him and realize my quality time was being rushed, it occurred to me how much he is like me.
His mother's son.
How often do I walk in the garden with Jesus, telling Him how long He is taking? "This could go a whole lot quicker if you'd just.."
"Man, it sure is UNCOMFORTABLE where you've brought me."
"This sounded like fun, but it's a lot of work!"
I won't look up from my Legos long enough to realize He is teaching me in this moment.
I just want to be along for the ride, not helping fill the bucket, and then pose for a picture later. Let the world know, I was there! I just didn't do anything when I was.
Who knew I'd need boots instead of my sandals for all the toe stomping getting done at the strawberry patch.
I truly believe God teaches me through my children. Some days, I think one of the only reasons He gave them to me is to teach me more about Himself. My prayer is that I always hear him over my own big mouth.
Lord, help me put down my Legos, shut up about the heat, and let you teach me to pick strawberries.
