“Go back to your room,” I said- I didn’t want my kids to see.
As I changed my own dressing, I saw- what I thought might be a tiny cut turned out to be a long incision in my neck.
But they stayed on. Their curiosity reminded me of when I’d said, “Maybe not.” Post-surgery when I was first sent to HD/ICU, I’d thought it might be better for my kids not to see me.
After all, wouldn’t it frighten them, to see Mummy lying on a hospital bed, connected to a thousand electrical leads, with a bloody drain hanging from a bandage in her neck?
When it comes to our kids seeing us in our weakness, I think many of us squirm. After all, don’t we want to be a strong parent-leader figure in their lives?
But we forget, what real strength and leadership look like- a display of courage and candor about the real challenges we go through.
“Five minutes only!” The ICU nurse emphasized, while giving a wink as five stretched to thirty.
“Wow, Mama,” my kids said, “You’re so brave.”
I realized then, the importance of our children seeing us in moments of our vulnerability, of complete weakness and struggle that we’d otherwise want to hide— because it is precisely those moments of hardship that enables them to say, “If my Mama/Papa can do hard things, I can, too.”
In the following days, they spent their time at hospital making clay flowers with me, building a flower garden city that bloomed amidst difficult times.
I learned- that as much as we long to hide our tears from our children to inoculate them from the suffering of our world, our efforts only quarantine them from resilience at best. After all, it was the public crucifixion of Christ that enables us to see how our Savior carried our burdens to the Cross, giving us strength to do all things (Phil 4:13).
If you struggle with guilt hiding your every challenge from your child, remember- Perhaps their seeing your scars strengthens, encourages, inspires them to overcome the battles they would otherwise not imagine they’d be able to. Take heart ❤️🩹