“We don’t have a dad in our family,” L. remarked to me one night as I put him to bed.
That’s right, bud.
“But that’s kind of dangerous because dads are stronger than moms.”
Yeah, that’s true.
“So what if there was a bear and a wolf and a coyote?”
If there was a bear and a wolf and a coyote, we would go inside and lock the door.
“Oh, yeah. That would work.”
It’s something that comes up from time to time. L. craves attention from and the reassuring presence of men.
Just today I was helping him climb a tree, and every time he started getting spooked, he would say,
“I need a strong man to get me down! I need a strong man to get me down!”
Buddy, I’m right here; you’re going to be ok. I reassured before he reluctantly jumped into my outstretched arms.
Feet firmly planted on the ground he said, “Whew. I didn’t die.”
L. is super into opposites right now, so every now and then he giggles and says, “You’re the worst dad never!” (Translation: You’re the best mom ever!) But the original statement is kind of true, too. I don’t make a very good dad, and I never will. (I do love a good dad joke though, and that has to count for something.)
As single mom to a boy, there is a pretty constant internal dialogue. “How would a father respond in this situation? Am I making him too cautious? Pushing him too hard?” and, “If I take him out in the yard to practice soccer, will he end up kicking this ball like a ballerina?”
But this is God’s plan for both of us right now, and He has a plan to provide for our insufficiencies.
I am so grateful for the men who have stepped in to model godly masculinity for L. From the friend who volunteered to coach L.’s soccer team, so he would have a familiar face on the field to the men in our community group who intentionally engage with him to my dad (L.’s “Johnny”) who takes him out to work in the shop or ride his bike or build with Legos.
So, yeah, being a single mom is tough, but it’s what I signed up for, so the singleness part of it isn’t a source of discouragement for me all that often. There was one particular Sunday after a tough week at our house, though, and I was feeling especially alone and inadequate. Then we sang Even So Come.
Like a bride waiting for her groom
We’ll be a Church ready for You
Every heart longing for our King
Even so come
Lord Jesus, come
Followed immediately by You’re a Good, Good Father.
Oh, and I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we’re all searching
For answers only you provide
Cause you know just what we need
Before we say a word
You’re a Good, Good Father
It’s who you are; it’s who you are
And God reminded me that my family doesn’t lack for anything He can’t provide. There’s no role He can’t fill.
“Mom, you should thank God that He’s the best Father.” L. observed last week.
You’re so right, buddy. I am thankful.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
K. Faith Morgan
I am a dyslexic writer, asthmatic singer, world traveler with a rotten sense of direction, and single foster mom learning how to parent by God’s grace. I am foster mom to one and aunt to quadruplets. I am a southern girl, but design is my football. I can’t follow X’s on a football field, but John Singer Sargent’s portrait of Madame X makes my heart skip a beat. I believe great design can change lives, and life is too short for beige. Free is my favorite word, clearance is my second favorite word, and sesquipedalian is my third favorite word. Learn more about my fostering journey at Mom (un)prepared.