I’ll admit it. I cry in commercials. I also cry in movie trailers. I can go from rational to weepy in like 0.3 seconds. It comes with the hormones I think. And this Olympics – this time around as a mother to three with both sons full on living, breathing, swimming each lap along with the athletes, everything kicked into overdrive.
Except – in my mind – I’m not the athlete on the in the pool or on the field like I was a decade ago.
This time around I’m the mom in the stands.
My whole body aches with the glorious beauty of being present in that way for our kids. I am wild with the wonder of seeing a part of one’s self succeed – or more wildly – fail on such a public stage.
I watch and I’m moved because I think there’s this profound truth that seeps through the screen and is packaged so powerfully in these crazy little commercials that play on our emotions better than Adele. {click here if you can’t see the video}.
That little boy on the high dive? The high, high, high dive? About to throw himself at all life has; about to fall or fail or flail or hit the water? About to let go of everything he’s been preparing for? About to give his all and perhaps lose? About to be both braver and more afraid than he’s ever been?
That little boy’s expression and his mother’s reaction is all of parenthood told in a 0.5 second story.
Because we do. We hold our breath. We pray through the dark watches of the night. We berate ourselves, our parenting, the God who trusted us with these tiny humans, the books that tell us what we should be doing differently, the habits we inherited from our own parents – we berate it all.
And still we believe. We believe in our kids so hard it hurts our bones.
And we beg the God who made them not to take them away.
We whisper our prayers and tell Him we believe He is good with one breath while pleading for the faith to believe it in the next. This is our grown up lullaby and it rocks us through the bad dreams, the too-close-calls, the waiting-up-for-them-teenage years.
Fear – on purpose – is hardly what we’d normally choose. And kids – they come with their own set of brand new ways we need to learn to whack-a-mole fear and it’s companions panic and worry.
But, there they stand anyway. With their tippy toes gripping the edge of the high dive and we can watch with our eyes open or squeezed, terrified shut.
With everyone else all we can do is watch.
But we get to choose to do it eyes, hands, heart, wide open.
So true!! Those commercials get me every time.
“We whisper our prayers and tell Him we believe He is good with one breath while pleading for the faith to believe it in the next.” I’ve been here so many times it’s not even funny.
Watching today with my everything open…
You are in good company. I sat sobbing during the Women’s Gymnastics floor exercises — because I could only imagine how their parents were feeling. What a poignant, vulnerable post. THANK YOU! Watching with everything I have open!
Yes. Every time I see the camera shots of the mothers in the Olympic stadiums I wonder, “Do my kids see me hoping and praying and believing in them like that?”
While I am just not a sports fan, your words and the video resonate in a deep place for me.
The looks on the moms faces are priceless portraits of a love as pure and supportive as it gets. They know their children, they have felt the drag of the long days, the difficult trials, and they have seen the hard falls and the moments of weakness. And yet, still, there they—and we—are, encouraging and hooting wildly in support of the children, of the fruit of exhaustive and determined effort, of dreams that can come true, with our hearts that are just bursting with love.
Beautiful post! As a soon-to-be mom (any day now), I know wht I’m feeling when I watch this ommerical is the tip of the iceberg. Thank you for sharing :)
So the emotions don’t lessen as time goes on? As a seven month old mom I thought they might be easier to handle as I earned more time under my belt. No?
(whispers) Wait, does it get worse as they get older?
Rebekah, Mine wore me out physically when they were young, but the older they get, I feel them wearing me out emotionally. All of it equals mommy growing pains.
I love this post it brought years to my eyes! My oldest is moving out this week and I watch and pray for faith with wide open eyes. I love your blog! xo
Beautiful! The Olympics are different when you watch them through mama-eyes.
Yes, those dang commercials get me everytime and I wonder what must it be like to watch your child be amazing or to be the parent who watches their child not complete the dream of medaling. Wow, it makes me wonder what will my little guy do with his life, what will he become and am I doing anything to hold him back…what can I do to help him be what God intends for him to be. So many questions, so many worries, so many wishes. Thank God he is in control.
Love it, darling. Consider me smack dab next to you in the stands, watching with eyes, hands and heart wide open along with you…
I love you.
This. It’s remarkable.
Oh yes. I so agree. I was watching the Voice earlier this year and thought the same thing – I can’t relate to those young pups taking a wild stab at their dream, but I can’t help identifying with their parents now and my some-day teenage sons. (Crazy thought!) It’s the same with the olympics – I’m cheering for the athletes but also the unsung heros in the stands that raised them.
Oh my goodness. I live on the other side of the world, and I’ve never seen that commercial before, but I cried too. And then I cried some more at your beautiful words… you sum it all up so well.
And I have noticed that I look at everything from ‘mummy lenses’ too – we went out for a very rare dinner-date a few months ago, and I was noticing the just-20ish boys at the bar, thinking how young they looked, and how my boys will look like that in 10yrs time (eeeeek!), I have now cried at a wedding because the mother-of-the-bride is a good friend of mine, and I knew how proud she was of her beautiful girl, while her heart was breaking at the same time, knowing she was giving her up to the mission-field of the Philipines… and then there’s these athletes. And I too look at them and think not only of the long hours they’ve put in, but the long hours their parents have put in as well!
Ack! Now I need to go do some washing to get my emotions back in control before I start weeping over the pajamas my daughter has just grown out of…
:)
“And we beg the God who made them not to take them away.”
Yes, from the moment I discovered my pregnancy. I also don’t want them hurt or afraid or sick or sad or… God is good and I know he loves me and my kids with more love than we will ever know. And that is how I sleep at night.