Sunday, March 8, 2009

We are but babysitters.

I was thinking the other day when one of the child-care workers at church was telling me something funny Kaiya had done. While the story was cute and I was touched how much she clearly cared for my daughter there was this sense of sadness in her voice. This sense of ownership of all the children in her care, for the brief bit that they were, but then this sad sense of release. Perhaps I was just reading into it but I get the sense from her that she longs to be a parent herself and has this bitter-sweet feeling when it is time for her role to be done. For as much as the children love her and enjoy their time playing with her the squeals of sheer delight they reserve for their mommies and daddies. 
As I was thinking about this girl and what her experiences must be like and how my own was not that far removed from her (just a few years ago I was the single gal helping out in the Sunday School room with my womb aching as the little ones broke my heart each day) I started thinking about how maybe I am confused about my role. By that I mean this thought kept pounding in my head one day while I was praying: she is not yours Court, she is mine. As I started to mull this around in the old noggin' I realized that my daughter is essentially on loan to me. I am the child-care worker, not the parent. She will be with me for such a brief time in comparison. All I really have to do is keep her alive and try keep her happy. Huh.


  1. "She is not yours...she is mine."

    That gave me the chills.

    How beautiful that He picked you to take care of His baby.

  2. I know what you mean. I think about having to let Diego go (one day) and it breaks my heart every time. It's so true, we only have them here, under our wings, for such a short amount of time. Older Moms always tell me to enjoy it now because it goes so fast. I don't want to believe them, but it's a good reminder.


  3. So very true. Our children are on loan to us. One day they will grow up and leave the nest. It's just our job to make sure they are loved and become amazing human beings. Thanks for the wonderful post. Have a great weekend.

  4. Beautiful. When I leave home my Mom always says,"Remember whose you are." She doesn't mean that I am hers.

  5. THANKS, I'm glad it touched y'all. I need to remember it, I keep trying to clutch her way too tightly.

  6. What a sweet and perceptive post. This reminds me of what my best friend says of his girls -- they do not belong to him, children just "pass through" their parents.

  7. It's so true. And boy, how I hate that. We pour ourselves into the role, into them, that I don't think we can ever truly admit until they are older that they are not ours.

    Great post!


Got any random bits of your own?