940 Saturdays

Plenty of Time

The brief sticky note reminder simply says, “940 Saturdays.” It has been stuck on my kitchen cupboard for years. It is there to serve as a reminder to me, a very important reminder.  A reminder I too often haven’t taken seriously, but, recently, the weight of its meaning has been pressing down upon me.

I put that note up years ago when I read that we typically have about 940 Saturdays with our children between the time they are born and the time they graduate from high school.  It is meant to be an encouragement to make the most of the time you have with your kids. 

940. A pretty big number, right? 

Nearly 1000 Saturdays. That seems like quite a few Saturdays.

940 Saturdays to create quality moments that will result in lasting, beautiful memories.   940 Saturdays to pass down generational wisdom and raise strong, self-sufficient children. (No pressure.)

At the beginning of the 940 Saturdays, we are tricked into thinking that there are more than enough Saturdays to accomplish all of that.  We convince ourselves there are plenty of Saturdays for meaningful activity and connection.  

Not Enough Time!

Oh, but how quickly that number dwindles!  I suddenly find myself ending up with a single-digit number as I count the Saturdays before my oldest graduates from high school. Panic! Give me more Saturdays! 

I regret the Saturdays that were, at best, wasted, and especially the ones that perhaps created negative memories or taught lessons that were the opposite of what was intended.

Looking back, I recall Saturdays when my young children seemed to desperately depend on my presence Every. Single. Moment. while I longed for moments of solitary silence.  Ironically though, now that those children are teens, I’m the one who is desperately seeking to spend time with them; they, however, have become difficult to pin down for more than a moment here and there.  

I look back on all the Saturdays since I became a mother, and with heartfelt gratitude, I reflect on the blessed moments and treasured memories.  The life of my firstborn flashes before eyes that well up easily and leak too often as I think about that little number of remaining Saturdays.

Treasured Recollections

A little boy whose love of music that started with singing and dancing along with Sesame Street videos developed into playing trumpet and piano and appreciating a diverse range of musical genres.  (With the commonality that they seem best enjoyed at a very high volume!)

From Little People to Magic Tree House, from Pokemon and Bey Blades to Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, from Legos to more Legos to more and more and more Legos, he is someone who loves to complete collections.  

A Star Wars and Marvel Universe fan who somehow manages to get even his mom somewhat excited when the next big movie or series is scheduled for release.  

(And, for purposes of full(er) disclosure, a little boy whose strong will often tested this mom’s patience. And, still, a teenager who is able to push my buttons with amazing accuracy.)  

From little on, I see a boy who blazed his own trail and wasn’t afraid to take the lesser-traveled path, and now a young man who stands for his convictions and may not be as reticent as his mother would sometimes prefer when it comes to sharing his opinions.  

How have these 900+ Saturdays gone by so quickly?  Too late, I fear, I have discovered that 940 is actually a VERY tiny number!

Can I Rewind Time?

And so I wonder: have I done my job well enough?  What if he goes off on his own and faces situations I didn’t prepare him for?  What if he faces struggles that could have been prevented had I only done my job better? Would it have made a difference if I had taken those precious Saturday moments more seriously?

But I know I don’t have to stretch my imagination very far to realize that he will face situations for which he is not completely prepared. Challenges will arise that will cause him to struggle and learn things he hasn’t yet been taught. No doubt he will have to make decisions, some good and some bad, without the readily-available counsel of his parents.  

That is enough to tempt me to immense worry and unrelievable stress. Unfortunately, I fall to this temptation more often than I should.  

A Far Greater Love

But though it seems unimaginable to me, there is someone whose love for this young man far surpasses my own.  God knew him before I did. He has had a plan for his life that is promised to be better than any plan I could lay out for him or he for himself.  

I recall not just those 930 or so past Saturdays, but also that same number of Sundays.  One of his first Sundays when, through water and the Word at the baptismal font, he was declared a redeemed child of God. 

A squirmy baby once interrupted church services with his squawks; later he learned to sing his praises to his creator and sustainer.  Those pudgy, busy baby hands now strong and folded in prayer or utilized in service to his Lord. 

Devotion books and his Bible take the place of well-worn picture books beside his bed.

More failures than I can count litter the path of my mothering journey. Yet God has worked through parenting imperfections to bless the life of my child. I will admit my bias, but I have a son who gives me so many reasons to be proud. God alone gets the credit for that.  

Forever In God’s Hands

Recently, I watched my “little” boy’s hands play piano for a school chapel service.  My eyes leaked just a little bit as he played and these words were sung:

God is the one who has blessed this child up ’til now. And God will surely go with him throughout all the days of his life, Saturdays and every other day, and on into eternity.

With a grateful heart, I look back on those 940 Saturdays, the 940 Sundays, and the 940 Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays that I have had to mother my firstborn. Though I know they will be different, I look forward to all the days and moments that are to come. My job isn’t over, and I am eager to see how it continues to develop. 

Go With God

I thank God for the reassurance that when my child faces, without his parents, those new struggles and challenges that I didn’t prepare him for, that God is always with him and promises to guide and help him with better counsel than I could ever give.  And, as God promises in Luke’s favorite Bible passage, “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  Romans 8:28

So go, my child, and continue to do the great things that God has planned just for you.  Use the abundance of gifts and talents God has given you and live for him!

Meanwhile, I’ll always be here, observing with a full heart through tear-blurred eyes. I will be thanking God for the amazing privilege he has given me by choosing me to be your mom.