Chapter 3: How to Have a H.E.A.R.T. for Your Kids - Purpose and Embarrassments

Week 4: How to Have a H.E.A.R.T. for Your Kids by Rachael Carman

This is a 2-part post--one reflective, one kind of humorous--both meant to celebrate our children. In Chapter 3 of How to Have a H.E.A.R.T. for Your Kids, Rachael Carman, reminds us that God has his timing and purpose for our children.

Have you ever pondered that--the purpose of each of your children? (And, no, their purpose is not to send you wailing around, hopping on one foot because you stepped on a Lego.) Here is my post for week 4 . . . (Read to the bottom to see my answer to Rachael's question at the end of the chapter-"Have you ever been embarrassed by your children?")

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My husband reached into the back seat and pulled a small stuffed bear from a paper bag, "I don't want Harrison to be alone." The bear and a cross were to be placed in our son's tiny casket.

It was December 22, 1999, and we were laying to rest our second child who passed away at birth. We were putting to a close 8 weeks that were full of fog, disbelief, prayer, hope, pain, and even some begging. At some point I know my praying turned into begging, which even turned into deal making. You cross these lines when it's your child's life.

As I sat on the hospital bed waiting for my husband to bring the car around, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

One of the doctors entered the room, "What's wrong?" she asked.

"What's wrong? I just lost my son!" I snapped. (As a result of a medical procedure gone bad.)

"Here, I"m writing you a prescription for something that will ease your pain."

What's worse than her prescribing my pain away, is the fact that we actually FILLED that prescription, and I took that med for 2 dosages.

Day 2 of those meds, God grabbed hold of my heart--as He always has in even the toughest of times--and He never let go. He pulled me out of the fog of those drugs and stood me back in the life He had planned for our family.

Our daughter was born 14 months later. I'll never forget my father's words the day he first held her, "God really wanted you to have her--she is truly a gift from Him."

My dad was so right.

I rejoice now when I think of Harrison. There is no mourning or grief. I look back over the last 12 years, and I see how God's plan for our children has unfolded.

Harrison blessed our family by making us more compassionate--we learned what it meant to suffer and rely totally on God to bring us back from "the edge". We learned that others can hurt worse than we did--you never know when you're in the store and encounter a rude person. Perhaps they just suffered a tremendous loss. You just never know how much pain a stranger has gone through. Our son's brief life brought us many lessons.

I rejoice because God sent us our daughter, who has such a tender and sweet heart. At 11 she calls me her best friend. She reaches over and holds my free hand when I'm driving. Whenever I leave the house, she kisses me and says, "I love you". She kisses me each night before bed and says, "I love you."

I know that it's 7 years before she's 18 and can legally leave and live on her own, and I cry NOW just thinking about that time. We are so very close.

God has His timing and purpose for each of our children.

Part 2 - On How Our Son "Embarrassed" Us

Well, really, he didn't. In fact, I'm so proud of our son, I could bust.

Okay, maybe here is one time he did embarrass us--we were playing Family Feud, Geordan (pron Jordan) was my partner.

The question was "Name a famous explorer."

Geordan slapped the table first.

My husband the MC: "Yes, what is your answer?"

Geordan (at 18 years old): "Dora the Explorer."

No, son, Dora is not an actual Explorer, as in Ponce de Leon, DeSoto, Lewis & Clark, etc.

But onto a more serious story . . .

This is more a situation of where we exhibited embarrassing parenting attitudes. We were embarrassed during this one event, but as the days, weeks and years passed, it definitely is more of an embarrassment for our behavior.

It all began when my brother was in high school. He was 6'6" and the starting center for 4 years at his high school. He had his picture in our hometown newspaper at least 4 times a season for his athletic prowess. Every Friday night during the season, there was my 8 year old self sitting 3 rows behind the team's bench. I was so proud of him, and I loved basketball. No, let me rephrase that, I really got INTO basketball. My dad was right there with me--reliving his basketball career as a young man. He grew up in tough streets and the Boys Club basketball program kept him out of jail. His team did very well on the state level.

So, now it's 1997 and alas the time has come for our son to carry on the basketball tradition. I was sure he had the basketball "DNA" from our family.

Off we went to his first game--shiny new Nikes (yes, I paid some outrageous price to put my 5 yo in Nikes), spiffy basketball shorts and snappy white socks. He stood head and shoulders above the other boys on the team.

Pretty much most of his playing time after the opening tip was spent under his team's basket, near the out of bound line, "playing" with his nose (I'll refrain from using the real verb here.)

The coach would encourage him to run down to the other end of the floor, but there he stood, "messing" with his nose, unmoving were his feet.

My husband got so frustrated, he left the gym with a comment, "I can't watch this. He has the Eichhorn basketball gene." My husband's family is known for their artistic and academic prowess, not athletics--and we chuckle about it.

As young parents who were expecting way too much, we were temporarily embarrassed. But as time past, we became embarrased at ourselves. God gives our children their interests, their talents, and their purpose, but we were trying to make him into something he wasn't created to be.

Basketball season passed, as did the next 14 years. We did help him find his interests and talents and are so very proud of the young man he has become.