Dr. Dobson has a classic parenting book, Parenting Isn’t for Cowards.
Preach, Dr. Dobson.
The last couple years have stretched my faith and refined me. I’ve learned these seasons prepare me for future opportunities, but it’s hard. HARD. The lessons have come from observing our kids go through stuff that I can’t fix or take on for myself. Most of them have been issues God’s used to grow them even though they didn’t do wrong or face a consequence from sin. Last year gutted me because of this. Already we’re seeing gold come out from that, and I’m so thankful.
This year it’s been more trusting God with our daughter, His daughter, mind you. He created her, He knows her days and all her issues. If you’ve been pictures, He numbered the hair on her head and this girl has long, thick, thick, thick hair. You’d think stepping out of the way and let God be God with her would be easy. Right?
As I came home one night after a long day with a disobedient dog, meetings, lack of writing time, putting out fires from others, I had a meeting left regarding our daughter. There was news that came as a surprise, and I had a lot of paperwork to complete. Given her medical history, I should be given word count credit because it was a novella when I was done. I was so drained I came home and burst into tears in front of my husband, something I rarely do. I knew I had to let her go and experience this without us. My husband, in the same state I was, declared we had the budget to send me with her.
I had to tell him to do so meant we didn’t trust God and all the doors He’s opened for her.
But our meltdown that led to a trip to DQ for chocolate therapy showed me something. I think there’s a new term out there to describe parents like me.
Helicopter mom isn’t a new label, and I get it. These moms hover and have the capacity to stunt their child’s growth because they get in the way and handle everything the child needs to learn on their own.
Drone mom. I confess drones scare me. I find them intrusive. As I reflected on my fears I realized I’m buzzing real close to drone mom status. Zooming in and out of no where, all my ugly out there for the world to see, being scary. Issuing demands on how things are going to go, which let’s call it for what it is, I wanted it my way.
Drones are also noisy. At least the ones I’ve seen, and it’s almost a buzzing sound you’d hear from an electronic mosquito. Not a sound you want to hear for relaxation and peace. Do I want to be known as that mom who bullies her way through the doors and screeches through my demands? No. Advocacy is one thing, but what I was tempted to do and be was loud and in the way.
Although my experience with drones is limited, when I see them on the news, sometimes they are in trouble because the owners violated boundaries. Went onto private property. I just want to help. I want our daughter to have the best life possible. Sometimes my methods cross the line. I call my actions Sarah, Plan B, because what I’m basically doing is creating an Ishmael of a problem. I run far ahead of God and get over my head. Then I stop and scream for help.
Loving our children isn’t wrong. Creating boundaries and expecting obedience is good parenting. However, when faith as a parent is pushed aside and we start making choices rooted in fear, no one wins. Whether a drone parent catches on or not, the visual scared me back to my heavenly Father’s arms. I don’t want to be a drone parent.
If you can relate, run into His arms, repent, and ask for His wisdom and discernment as you love your children. He is faithful!