A Letter for the Elementary Years
Dear Mom,
I remember like it was yesterday—Christmas morning with my two elementary school-aged boys. This Christmas was particularly magical because both boys wanted the same thing—a trampoline. My husband, Wes, and I were determined to do whatever was necessary to surprise Sam and Tate with their hearts’ desire. We planned and we saved, and we waited. Wes waited in line for hours in the middle of the night on Black Friday to purchase the trampoline. Then we waited for weeks, hiding the enormous box best we could.
We carefully arranged to have the boys occupied on Christmas Eve while Wes and my dad put the trampoline together in our backyard. I think we were giddier with anticipation than the boys that night! Our giddiness dwindled on Christmas morning, however, when the boys’ faces went from delighted to dejected, seeing only a few small gifts under the Christmas tree. (Our budget was very tight during the elementary years, so we were able to purchase only a few other gifts and stocking stuffers.) They both quickly smiled and spoke “thank yous,” determined to hide their disappointment. But Wes and I knew about the trampoline in the backyard, so we waited—which was even harder now.
We patiently watched the unstuffing of the stockings, then the unwrapping of the few gifts. We ate cinnamon rolls in the kitchen like we did every Christmas morning, enduring the mundane to get to the magical. In fact, we knew the reveal would be even more magical because of the waiting.
After the cinnamon rolls were eaten, Wes and I looked out the back door and exclaimed, “What in the world? Boys, come see what is in the backyard!” I can still hear their delighted squeals and see the joy on their faces. Shoes were hurriedly put on and the boys were out the door, jumping and laughing in an uninhibited display of joy. I am pretty sure Wes and I were jumping and laughing in an uninhibited display of joy watching them!
Fellow mom, I share this story because the time between purchasing the trampoline and revealing it is a great picture of parenting through the elementary years. I remember these years being a season of planning and scrimping and waiting. Perhaps your budget is tight like ours was. You are penny-pinching to provide piano lessons or Little League fees. And there is a lot of waiting. Waiting in carlines, waiting for kids to find their shoes, waiting for sick kids to get better so you can go back to work, waiting in the checkout line at 9:00 p.m. because your kiddo forgot to tell you about the science project due tomorrow. Waiting to pursue a few of your own dreams. Waiting to see the results of all of your unwelcomed boundaries and loving nos and not nows. Waiting to see if your parenting will prove effective. Much of it feels mundane.
The elementary years are the time between.
If I were able, I would go back in time and tell my younger self to notice the magic in the mundane. I’d catch the way Tate’s face lit up as I pulled up to school at the end of the day. I’d recognize the way Sam saw and celebrated things I had never paid attention to. I’d enjoy the time in the car with these developing human beings who were so full of personality and energy and new ideas. It was magical! I would embrace and enjoy the number of opportunities for discipleship and conversation. I would be more present and patient in the time between.
I feel thankful for the older women who counseled me to hold my kids close in the time between. I’m glad that I waited to pursue some of my own dreams. I don’t regret one moment of playing cars on the floor, reading books together, or making spontaneous trips to Sonic after school. I’m grateful for the moments I gave Sam and Tate my full attention, physically turning my face toward them. What often felt mundane now seems magical.
Three rhythms from the elementary years that were particularly relationship-building were 1) meals at our small kitchen table, 2) long drives to vacation spots, and 3) slow bedtime routines. We gave each other our full attention. Phones were not at the dinner table. Events and frustrations of the day were shared at mealtime, then prayed about at bedtime. When it was time to go on vacation, we drove. We did this largely because we were on a tight budget, but I would not change this! The time in the car singing, laughing, and stopping for cheeseburgers are times Wes and I highly value, and the boys do too. All three of these practices helped form young men who turn their faces away from devices, giving their full attention to others. They are relational amid a culture that is increasingly not.
An often-quoted passage of the Bible is the blessing recorded in Numbers 6:24-26 (NIV):
“The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.”
Our heavenly Father turns his face toward us, giving us his attention. His face shines on us, lit up with love and delight! Think of your elementary kiddo—how her face brightens when she spots you in the audience or how his face lights up when you pick him up from camp. Notice this blessing. What a sweet display of love! A significant way we get to image our heavenly Father is by turning our faces away from phones, emails, and dirty kitchens, and toward our son or daughter. Let your face shine on your elementary kiddo, displaying your love for them. And in the time between, remember that your Father’s face is shining on you, ready to help you while you parent. He will bless you and keep you while you move through the mundane.
Sam has now graduated from college and Tate from high school. I now have time to pursue the dreams that were placed on hold during the time between, and I am enjoying a depth of relationship with my boys that developed in the waiting.
The years of waiting in carlines will turn to waiting for them to pull up in the driveway. The years of waiting to pursue your dreams will turn into waiting to hear about theirs.
Dear mom, the unwelcomed boundaries and loving nos and not nows will one day yield magic. Not because you do everything perfectly, but because you have a heavenly Parent who delights to help you while you parent. I believe the “reveal” will be even more magical because of the waiting. God’s face is turned toward you as you turn your face toward your children. He will be faithful in the time between.
Your friend,
Colleen Searcy
Capturing the Moment:
Below are a few prompts from the author for activities that might be especially meaningful in this season or memories that she appreciates now, looking back. We hope these serve as a helpful springboard as you prayerfully consider how to “number your days” (Ps. 90:12) and make the most of the moments God gives:
Three relationship-building rhythms that I encourage you to work into your family routines are listed below. These unhurried rhythms resulted in a great deal of joy and camaraderie that have carried into the adult years.
Routine meals at the table.
It did not seem to matter if the meals were homemade or purchased, but it mattered that there were predictable times spent around our small kitchen table, faces turned toward one another and phones in another room.
Long drives on vacation.
Some of our sweetest times of connection happened on long drives. Once, we played a game in which each family member wrote four nouns on pieces of paper and placed them in a lunch sack. While on the drive, we each blindly chose two words, then had to create a story on the spot, incorporating the two words chosen from the bag. We laughed a great deal, and we still remember Tate’s story about a squid named George Frederick.
Unhurried bedtime rituals.
We read books and we prayed, and often, the painful events of the week surfaced while we visited at bedtime.
