Lately, I’ve been thinking about a movie I saw a few years ago, The Time Traveler’s Wife. Because the Time Traveler sporadically travels to different points in his life, he is able to give his wife perspective on the future, and this influences her choices. Ever since I saw that movie, I’ve often thought about this idea. Especially, I’ve wondered what I would say to myself if I could travel back ten years. What perspective would I give to myself as a younger mother?
The answer hasn’t always been clear, but today I know just what it would be. I can even cut it down to two words. These are two words that, if taken to heart, could change everything:
Don’t worry.
My oldest daughter graduated from high school last month. Out of my four daughters, she has consistently been the highest on my worry scale. Most of this I think comes from the fact that she is my oldest. Poor thing. Every single moment we have faced together has been brand new to me as a mom. From her first cry to her first day of seventh grade, I had zero perspective.
But now at this juncture, I have a little bit to offer. And I wish, oh how I wish, I could breathe this message back to a younger, fretful me.
She’s sitting on the lawn during recess, my young-mother’s worried heart wails. She’s pulling up handfuls of grass and telling herself stories.
Don’t worry. Ask her about these stories. Help her write them down. Tell her you can’t wait to hear what stories she dreams up tomorrow. One day she’ll make movies and tell these stories. And they’ll be beautiful.
She didn’t get the lead in the school play. She had to leave class every 20 minutes to cry today. Her heart will not recover.
Don’t worry. She does recover and in a way beyond what you think you know about her. Wipe her tears. Braid her hair. Let her know of your absolute faith in her. She can ride on your faith for a while. Then, just sit and watch.
She wants to stay home on Saturday nights.
Don’t worry. Snuggle with her. Watch movies. Buy sodas. Rejoice in exactly who she is on these Saturday nights. There will come a time when you’ll beg her to stay home.
You’ll see from where I stand right now that things have already worked out. These many worries that once pressed so firmly against my heart are like passing clouds I only sort of remember. If I could have listened to this advice, these years—which were as fleeting as everyone kept telling me they would be—could have been colored by more joy and less fear. More delight and less fretting. More picnics and storytelling on the back lawn and less prodding and hand wringing.
Part of me would probably resist this advice. Maybe if I don’t worry, things won’t work out. But I’m not so sure this is true. What our children need—what they will always need—is our faith, not our fears. I suspect that the worry, however hard we try to conceal it, is shared with them in some sort of tight knot they carry around. How much better to offer them a victory flag. “Things work out,” this flag could say, waving back and forth through winds of trouble.
And little by little, they do.
A few times, when I’m at my mothering best, I’ve been able to do this. Instead of letting the worry overpower me,
I’ve expressed my faith and left the rest to God. It’s a good game plan because it allows me to watch my daughter’s story unfold. Not my version of this story, but truly her story, with plot lines and resolutions I would never have thought of.
As I write this, I am preparing to send this daughter to college. My worry over this phase of life is so gripping I can hardly breathe. But if I sit very still, I can almost hear it: a message whispered through the years to a younger mother, standing at yet another new journey of motherhood.
Don’t worry. From where I am, things have already worked out.
So we pack her childhood in boxes and decide which clothes to put in her tiny dorm room closet. She stacks her tattered novels on a shelf and once in awhile asks my advice about her college class schedule.
“Sometimes I wish I could stay right here,” she says one day. “Just stay here and not do this at all.”
“I know,” I tell her. “But it’s going to be great.” I wave the flag of victory. “I can’t wait to see what you do next.”
Even as I say it, I realize how much I mean it. I really can’t wait. And for just a moment, I think I am doing it right. Who’s to say that what’s ahead might not be even better than where we have been?
Time to watch another story unfold.
QUESTION: What worries for your children are pressing on you right now?
CHALLENGE: Move these worries into action. What actions can you take to help your child? Prepare affirmations of faith. What could you say to your children to express your love and faith in them?
Edited by Katie Carter and Amanda Lewis.
Graphic created on PicMonkey by Anna Jenkins.
Great perspective. We recently switched schools mid year.. Out of fear I wouldn’t have done it… But with faith my daughter made a good choice. One small victory. Yeah! I will try to remember to raise and embrace that flag more often. If I don’t have faith in my child who will?
I get this Allison. I had a daughter switch schools last year too and it was frightening for me. Had to trust that if she thought she could do it, I had to believe in her too.
I am a young mama with young children (my oldest is four), and this was a great and calming perspective for me to read today. Thank you!
Thanks Rachel. I appreciate that I had something to say that could connect with where you are in motherhood too.
Carrie, I am SO with you on all this! We’re in the thick of my oldest daughter’s junior year, and I absolutely feel your heart on this sentence: “My worry over this phase of life is so gripping I can hardly breathe.” I, too, have fretted over every phase, every change, every challenge. But, like you, I can look back and see that everything worked out–and that perspective does give some comfort for the uncertainties ahead. Thank you for sharing your mama’s heart so beautifully here!
Elizabeth–we’re the same:) She’ll come through for you. I truly am learning that all of my children are on their own timetable. Thank you for your kind words.
“What our children need is our faith not our fears.”
Oh, goodness, how that phrase grabbed my heart! I have three young teens. My greatest fear is that I’m not a “good enough” mother to them. It just occurred to me that perhaps my kids are seeing/feeling my insecurity. I imagine that can’t be good for them! I need to have more faith in MYSELF first (like the airplane oxygen mask analogy 😉 .
The simple words “I have faith in you” are a wonderful sense of support. I will try to remember to use that with my children and myself. Thank you!
Elena I really like the oxygen mask thought–so true. Maybe they breathe better when we are breathing better. Thanks for that.
Thanks for this. I think I could win the worrying award, but hope that instead I can start the victory flag faith method instead!
Haha–a fellow worrier. Motherhood seems to magnify it for me!
Thanks for this! Worrying is of course what we mums do best! I remember when my oldest was around 5/6, she worried about all sorts of things that as a child I wouldn’t have even thought about. I had such faith in my parents that it would never have crossed my mind to worry about whether I was going to get to the airport on time, or whether meals might not just appear on the table. I think it is a sign of how more aware kids are these days of what goes on around them. Now at the age of 20, my girl has adult responsibilities and worries of her own. But when I look back at what we’ve survived over the last 20yrs, I can see that things do work out, and that she will bounce back from adversity and not so great choices. So I will adopt the ‘I have faith in you’ approach – perhaps she will worry less and make better choices. I’ve done the best I can, time to let her make her own way and just be there if she stumbles. Good luck to you and your daughter with college.
I’m not sure if this is appropriate to ask in this forum, but…. I am a worrier. So much so, I have allot of anxiety. I haven’t always been this way, but, the last 5 -7 years have been really hard. Long story…
But, now I have a son who’s moved out of state and married a wonderful young woman. He is where he should be. I know this. The hard thing is that I’ve never felt like a good enough mother to him. He always held allot of resentment because I had to work so much and take care of his step sister. He never understood so I’ve worried about him the most.
Now, he’s had a daughter of his own and being twelve hours away, I’m missing out on allot in her life. As well as watching, from a distance, my son grow into being a great father. Her 1st birthday party is today and I’m missing it. Partly because of my 6 day a week job/business, partly because of the time and expense to try to get there.
I worry about the effect on my son. I worry that he’ll harbor more resentment towards me and feel I don’t love him enough. How can I not. His father, who is basically single without any children at home, and has a job with vacation and good pay, can fly down. I have other children from my current marriage, twins and a handicapped step daughter. I work for myself, but it’s hard for me to get away because I don’t have vacation pay our someone to cover for me other than my husband on his day off. No one wants to work
Now, mind you, I probably could have driven alone, through the night after work, hoping that the roads would be good enough to get there in twelve hours, but realistically probably longer, because of the winter weather. I could have made it in time for the party. But, I wouldn’t have gotten hardly any sleep and wouldn’t have gotten to spend very much time with them or her, because they have a large family base, which is great. But, realistically, I’d have been there for about 6-8 hours, had to get some sleep and then head home in the early morning hours on Sunday. Was I wrong not to go?
My worry is that I’ve not had any response from them since telling them I couldn’t make it. How do I not worry that I made the wrong decision? How do I not worry they’ll resent me for missing her very first Birthday party? It kills me to miss out on so much. I know she won’t miss me because she’s so young. Everyone tells me they’ll get over it. It’s safer not to try to get there and back safely. I feel awful!
How do I not worry?
Hi Cassie,
I’m Andrea, the Administrative Assistant here at Power of Moms. If you would like, we could share your thoughts and questions with the Power of Moms community via our Facebook group and you are likely to get some great responses. Even though I know you’ve posted publicly here, chances are not too many have seen it, so posting it anonymously is an option. Please reach out to me if you’re interested: [email protected]
Thanks for sharing your thoughts!