This is Momming With One Eye Open

Momming in Ministry requires the skill of momming with one eye open. Here's what I mean.
Having my own kids in children's ministry means I get the privilege of being there. Invited into those sacred spaces that most parents will get pictures or stories, or maybe just shrugs about. Bible class. Field  trips. Kids' camp. I'm there. But the challenge is being there without being TOO there.

In one of the first KidMin workshops I attended, I remember hearing that I need to do whatever it takes to be fair to my kids. They should be dealt with using the same "other people's kids'" gentleness that I gift the other children with while we're at church, even if it means turning them over to someone else. Someone who won't take behavior personally, or be embarrassed by the fish-bowl of momming in ministry. I have to remind myself of this often. Especially when I hear the pounding and squealing of my children leading the race of kids down the hallway to where they know the candy stash is hidden. But it's the goal.

And then there's camp. God bless camp. It's the funniest thing, letting a group of teenagers do the "momming" when I'm there. But I want them to have this experience, so I bite my tongue, I go to bed early and I keep questions as minimal as possible. I refrain from commenting on the lack of vegetables on their plate. Or asking why they are wearing the same t-shirt three days in a row, which happened to actually be part of their pajama set. Because I love them.

It's not easy. Not just because I'm a mom. But especially because I'm Moses' mom. His poor counselor was exasperated by the amount of times one child can loose their epi pen backpack in the course of  a week. Usually it just required backtracking about five minutes. But once we had to make an announcement in the cafeteria and once I had to use the tile tracker. Thank goodness I was there. And I had a spare. Both of the inhaler and the epi. I collaborated with my mom to prepare five days worth of meals in advance, which we froze in little semi-reusable containers to keep refrigerated and microwave, complete with gluten free vegan cookies and Enjoy Life chocolate bars.

But what an enormous blessing to be that fly on the wall at such an important week of spiritual formation. To see my kids worshiping from down the row in chapel. To see them being kind and inclusive. To read the testimony Daniel wrote in Bible class and accidentally left on the table. Hearing the conversations around picnic benches and waiting in line for lunch, both silly and serious. Watching them obey other grown-ups and interact with their peers. And hearing the giggly girls talk about how cute my Moses is. They weren't wrong.

These days are already fleeting. A few weeks ago we dropped Daniel off at his first youth group swim party. Youth group. I WAS JUST IN YOUTH GROUP. Seriously, like two weeks ago I think I was picking out that modest one piece and a big t-shirt to cover it with for MY first youth group swim party. I am pretty sure Dan and I have never felt so old as we did waiting outside for the church van to get back. With our son. Without us.

Last night Dan and I joined in the last few minutes of youth group game night. And, while Dan does still volunteer with the teens on Sunday mornings, I had an awareness that this was borrowed ground for me. And Daniel probably won't tolerate his parents challenging each other to a loud game of ping pong right in the middle of his space. There's actually a sign on the wall in the youth room that says, Clean up after yourself. Your mother doesn't work here. "They're going to have to change that," I remember saying once. "Daniel's absolutely going to point out that his mother does work here."

I have a few more years momming in ministry with Moses. Sometimes it's wonderful and sometimes it's challenging. But I'm hoping with time I'll get better at finding that sweet spot, where the being there and the not being there find their perfect balance. But I wouldn't trade the collision of those two places for the world.