Lessons as a nanny

I haven't written a blog post in nearly four months and to be completely honest, it’s because I’ve doubted if I have anything worthwhile to share. I’m in a season where my life consists of mornings of nannying an 18 month old child, afternoons of reading online textbooks and writing paper after paper, and evenings of cooking meals and trying to get myself to the gym. My written words feel used up on either prayer journal entries or papers about counseling techniques or multicultural competence. By the time I have a free hour or two, nothing in me wants to sit back down at my laptop to write a blog post. And even if I did have the desire, I struggle to believe that I have anything worthwhile to share. Whatever wisdom or insight I felt like I might have had to share during my time in vocational ministry seems to have dried up in this simple desert season. 

And to clarify, this season feels rich in relationship, but dry in production. Most of the work that I labor at is alone and unseen, and in the world’s eyes, nothing impressive. And that’s fair, I don’t expect a gold medal for writing yet another paper or changing yet another diaper. This season of nannying and chipping away at a 60-credit-hour online degree has been refining for me in a new way, and has shown me a new angle in my relationship with the Lord.

While I knew children were dependent before I started nannying, this job has shown me just the depths of that dependence. Children are clingy, they run to you to meet their physical and emotional needs of food, water, hygiene, comfort, security, safety, and love. When they’re scared, they’ll hide behind your leg. Hurt, and they’ll reach their arms up to you to be held. Excited, and they’ll eagerly run to show you what it is that is delighting them. They laugh freely, cry freely, talk freely, and are unashamed of their bodies and actions. 

The child that I nanny has shown me a new side of myself as well, providing a window into what parenting may be like. He’s shown me that I do have a capacity to love someone despite what they can do for me. It’s given me a glimpse into what parents surely feel for their children–an unconditional love unique to the parent-child relationship. 

Nannying has also challenged my desire to achieve and be impressive, as well as my preconceived notion that my life needs to be exciting and interesting on a daily basis. My mornings are repetitive and yet fill my little guy with excitement and delight every day. It doesn’t matter how many trucks or tractors he sees, he can hardly contain his exuberance when a loud vehicle rumbles by and he screams, “WOAH,” waving his arms furiously to catch the driver’s attention. One of his favorite parts of our daily routine is to simply sit and watch the slow movements of construction vehicles. Taking care of this child, who is so easily entertained, is simple and yet challenging me in so many ways. It has tested my integrity and natural craving to be seen, appreciated and affirmed. It has rubbed raw against my desire to have an impressive and thrilling daily life.

A new side of God as my Father, and me as His child, has also been highlighted in this season of nannying. I see now, every day, that children are helpless. My little guy is learning to be helpful, though, and has recently learned how to help unload the silverware from the dishwasher. As he proudly hands me spoon after spoon, I smile and can’t help but wonder if this is how God feels when I choose to imitate Him in a difficult moment, offering Him a tiny good work that to me feels hard. When my little guy falls asleep in my arms, nestled close to my heart, I wonder if God too has a desire for us to rest completely in Him. When my little guy runs to me, whether in joy or pain or fear, I wonder if God, too, opens His arms wide, eager to give comfort and love with generous abundance. 

As I reflect on this angle of my relationship with God, I wonder how I can cultivate my own childlike nature before my Father. I want to embrace my dependence, my delight in simple things, my quick response to big emotions as running to the Father; I want to be unashamed, unworried about what people around me might think about my chalk squiggly lines, my appearance or abilities. I want to trust that what God gives me is for my good and safety. I want to dream like a child, even in grad school when my days are monotonous and often lonely. Even if I walk the same routine every day, I want the little blessings of ducks or trucks or birds or planes to fill my eyes with wonder and my heart with awe. Nannying has slowed the pace of my life and has encouraged me to take the perspective of a child, who is easily delighted in the little things, even if it’s the same little thing that we saw yesterday, and the day before. My prayer and my longing this Saturday morning is that my joy and delight in the Lord and the world He has made, may be renewed daily as a child’s, even in a simple and slow season.