Parenting is hard.
That’s not a shocker right? It’s not an “alert the media” type of revelation. In fact, going into parenting, I knew it would be hard. But I didn’t know it would be this hard and I didn’t know how it would be hard. Having three children, five and under, with one having special needs has pushed and challenged me in ways I never could have imagined.
And, at times, I’ve handled the trials and tribulations of parenting in a less virtuous, patient, or charitable way than I’d like.
So, this week when Barbra Bottaro joined Dr. Greg on the Being Human Podcast to talk about the messiness of parenting, I can’t tell you how heard I felt.
One of my favorite moments from their conversation was Barbra grappling with the feedback she receives from her children. When we go outside the home, if we make someone lunch, they respond with gratitude. It’s a really nice thing to do. But, at home, when I make my son a chicken sandwich he complains that it isn’t burger. Or when my wife finishes folding the laundry, one of the children dumps it all over the floor and laughs. As a parent, no matter how much love I put into something, no matter how many meals I make, and no matter how many different ways I try to make it easier to get out the door, someone is complaining about something.
As I listened to Barbra talk, I thought, “Yes! She gets it!”
And then, just like Jesus, after all that compassion and empathy, she delivers an inspiring challenge.
“Everything changes when you look at parenting through the lens of the works of mercy.”
Instead of getting lunch together, I’m feeding the hungry.
Instead of trying to get everyone dressed and out the door on time for Mass, I’m clothing the naked.
Instead of picking up a crying child, I’m consoling the afflicted.
Instead of forcing my child to go to the bathroom before we leave the house, I’m counseling the doubtful.
And when I’m getting up to get yet another child something to drink as my food gets cold at dinner, I’m giving drink to the thirsty.
Looking at the duties of parenthood through the lens of the works of mercy elevates the act itself and souths the part of me that feels like it needs recognition for all that I’m doing or at least some morsel of gratitude for it all.
As Barbra says, “The corporal works of mercy are supposed to hurt a little bit. Feeding the poor, clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, it takes something out of you. Parenthood is the same. It’s the constant consistency, the giving of self, the suffering, the sacrifice. And it matters.”
IT MATTERS. And it matters because YOU matter.
Barbra helped me see that this hidden grind is an experience of the refiner’s fire, it’s the school of sainthood, and it’s the primary means that God is using to help me become who I truly am.
Again, as she pointed out, by turning parenthood into a constant work of mercy, I am attempting to imitate Jesus, I am attempting to say with Him, “This is My body, given up for you.” Every sleepless night, every inconvenience, every moment of showing up with a consistency of love is a participation in His mercy.
In other words, my children deserve mercy from me. It’s what I owe them at this stage of life. No one else can provide it with the same constancy and love. And when I embrace that call, even in the most mundane, exhausting moments, I get to live out the ordinary works of mercy in the most extraordinary way.
And, perhaps most importantly, turn more and more into an image of Jesus to them and to the world