The Test Kitchen

During my career in Human Resources, I worked at a manufacturing facility where we made over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. When R&D came up with a new drug, we would test the production in a test kitchen. This meant making small batches of the product on the actual equipment that would be used for full-scale production to write the SOP's and determine if the drug could really be made with our existing equipment. If it was successful, and we received FDA approval, we would go into production, which always required some minor tweeking, but which, generally, yielded the same results as in the test kitchen. Although the minor tweeking could be frustrating to the employees, supervisors and managers working on the new line, it was rarely an unsolvable problem and frequently was something very minor, such us turning up the temp 2 degrees or cooking for longer.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if raising children was this easy? We have no test kitchen, no SOP. We go right into full-scale production from the moment of conception. The other day, I remembered a time I got pregnant and worried myself sick because I had taken some aspirin and a sleep-aide very early on before I knew I was pregnant. In the meanderings of my mind, I thought, "What are we, as women, supposed to do? Do nothing from ovulation until our periods start that may possibly harm a baby, month after month, just in case we're pregnant?" The answer came quickly, "Of course not. Life still has to be lived. " It cannot stop for "just in case" every single month for years on end. However, parenting begins in the womb. Caring for that progeny can be a daunting task - no hot tub baths, no medicines (unless approved by the doctor), strange cravings, the persistent nausea and the feeling that something has overtaken your body. With every pregnancy, I found myself driving so much more carefully and always making sure my seatbelt was snug against that little life inside me. Your mind even begins to work differently, and the baby hasn't even been born yet.

This morning, I was dealing with a child who is going through a rather selfish season. I asked for the box of cereal so I could pour a bowl for a breakfast late-comer, who was sitting patiently waiting, but the sibling continued reading the back of the cereal box and ignored my request. I asked a second time, and was snarled at because they "were reading the back of the box!"

After a stern lecture and slumped shoulders by the offender, I tried to return the kitchen to the pre-incident lightness, with cheerful banter and laughter. A few minutes later, the offender appeared in front of me, wrapped their arms around me, and laid their head against me, snuggling me. No "Please forgive me, Mama", but the change of heart was obvious.

We never know from one moment to the next if we're doing the right thing by our children. Unfortunately, we're human and frail, as well, and dealing with our own emotions and shortcomings while we try to raise these little people to be who God wants them to be. Perhaps that's His mercy for them. If we were perfect, how could they ever live up? Knowing parents are fallible gives them examples of how to gracefully (at least, we hope) pick themselves up after mistakes. It gives them something to aspire to. Aspiring to perfection is a little too much for most people, especially children, but aspiring to this person who sometimes loses their temper and cries with frustration occasionally may be do-able.

The thing I struggle with is the not knowing. I do my best, of course, but sometimes I wish for that test kitchen. It would be great to know that my children, as adults, will only have tweeking to do on their lives, instead of major overhauling because I failed somehow as a parent.

I often find myself standing on God's promise in this area - "Raise up a child in the way that they should go and when they are old, they will not turn from it." It doesn't say they will never turn from it - only that as they age, they'll see the wisdom of their parents and that formation we worked so hard to build will become their foundation.

So I keep chugging along at the foundation, trying to do more things right than wrong. Trying to be that example of graceful repentence, holding fast to God's promise. From my fingers to God's e-mail.