“Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live.” – Jacqueline Winspear

The other night I went in to check my toddler in his crib before I went to bed. I slipped in and the movement awakened him. I heard him sit up and roll over so I stood there motionless until I thought he’d settled back down. I knew it wasn’t long enough for him to really fall back asleep but I stepped out anyway, too exhausted after walking 17,849 steps while caring for two children all day to stand there any longer. And he started crying. He was upset because of something I did and I was too exhausted to do anything about it but to silently curse myself.

As I listened to him crying through the wall, I had this moment when I realized that I’ve created no space for the Divine in my parenting. That is to say, I think everything is my responsibility and my fault. When I delivered each of these two miracles, there was no denying that they were these perfect gifts from God but then I’ve taken the job and responsibility of a parent so seriously that I have forgotten I’m not in control.

I’ve come so far in the other areas of my life to have faith and to see how everything comes together for good. My dad dies and then in the same year my daughter is born. A project is delayed because of a reorganization at the client company and then I have time when the request comes in from my favorite non-profit to help with their technology. I’ve started see this beautiful symphony of how it all works out. I’ve relaxed into trusting the Divine hand in the flow of life and so even when I don’t understand, I’ve learned patience to find out the why that will reveal itself sooner or later. I’ve let go of a lot of control and in return seen the give and take of this beautiful mystery of life.

But parenting and the fun, funny and tough moments and the mistakes I make while being in charge, I take so personally. In my enthusiasm to do a great job, I have completely forgotten that enthusiasm means “with God”. I made the choice so intentionally to become a single parent, I forgot that is only in this dimension but if I look higher, I have a partner in this most important and meaningful job.

My dad had this phrase, “You have to care less without being careless.” He was talking about golf. But his years as a pastor infused a wisdom that overlaid most everything he said. In this game of life, I need to relax my grip and care a little less about parenting so that God can help me swing everything.

My son cried after I woke him up for only a minute or two. It was long enough to have this epiphany. Like magic that challenges our assumptions about what we know and see, the Universe used that moment of exhaustion and disappointment to startle me out of my insistence that I am in control.