I hate school spirit week. There I said it.
Oh, you weren’t asking about my least favorite time of the school year? But now that I’m thinking about it…what is my least favorite time of the school year? Maybe August, when kids go back to school. Or it might be after the New Year, when it is dark, dreary, and drab, and motivation is low. But I could also argue it’s December, when holiday parties and theme weeks run rampant. Or May, when every second of every day has a field trip or dress-up theme.
No matter the school season, it feels like I am barely keeping my head above water, sprinting around doing a million errands, burning my gas tank to a crisp, and aggravating a disc in my hip. I feel like I’m the mythological character, Sisyphus, pushing the boulder up the hill, but when I think I’ve crossed the finish line, BAM, a child hands me a note from school saying that spirit week starts the next day. (Did I mention I hated that week?)
Between sports days, holiday parties, sunrise breakfasts, and that cursed spirit week (plus both an elementary and a high school graduation for me this year), I always feel seconds away from curling up in a ball and hibernating until Labor Day.
Through it all, there’s also the added guilt that despite all of my running around and tying up loose ends, I’m not doing enough as a parent. There’s always another mom who brings fresher (and home-baked) maple scones to the holiday bash, or a dad who “builds” their kid a suspiciously real Jedi lightsaber for a costume party (they definitely bought it on eBay), or another parent who chaperones every field trip and buys them everything at the gift shop.
For years, I’d get caught in the trap of competing with other parents, but also competing with myself. No amount of timely signatures on permission slips or taking the lead on carpooling made me feel like I was succeeding as a mom. I still felt like I wasn’t doing enough.
Even worse, my relationship with my kids was suffering. I would be more focused on checking the self-manufactured boxes of ‘perfect parent that I wouldn’t ask them how they were feeling, if they had fun at that Christmas shindig, or, gulp, how spirit week was going. I was running so ragged from trying to be perfect that I would come home tired, worn out, and crashing hard.
My pursuit of perfection needed to come to an end. I was beyond exhausted, and my kids were getting more of a zombie mom than they were a real mom. Something had to shift. Thankfully, I was hit with a word from God that spoke right to my predicament—and my spirit week fatigue.
“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you; He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17)
God isn’t distant or distracted. He’s with us. And I realized that’s the kind of love and presence my kids long for from me. Not perfection (though God’s love is), but delighting and closeness.
When we show up in the same way for our kids, even in our imperfect human way, we reflect God’s heart. Even though we might be hearing from culture—and ourselves—that the only way to be a good parent is to do more, be more, and be perfect…God says something different:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28).
God doesn’t say, “Come to me when you’ve finished everything, and everything is perfect.” He says, in my paraphrasing, “Come to me, right in the middle of the mess.”
God isn’t measuring your worth by your to-do list. He’s not disappointed that you dropped a ball or two, or even for those last-minute Target runs (all caused by spirit week). He sees you. He’s proud of how you keep showing up for your kids, your family, and him, even when you feel like you’re barely making it by.
And maybe that’s the secret: you don’t have to do it all. You don’t have to remember everything (because you won’t get everything done anyway). And most importantly, you don’t have to be everything to everyone. You just need to be present.
Through much trial and error and a bit of burnout, I’ve learned that if you forget pajama day, bring store-bought cupcakes instead of homemade, and your senior’s graduation cap holds together with hope and a glue stick…you are still a good parent. My kids won’t remember the party themes, the snacks, or the matching t-shirts. But they will remember one thing:
Was I present?
Well, maybe not present at every event. But was I present when they wanted to tell me how their field trip went? Did I look up from my phone when they walked through the door with a story? Was I emotionally available, even if my calendar was bursting?
That’s what sticks.
And if you’re wondering if being present really matters, just think about how God parents us. He doesn’t wait for the perfect moment to show up. He doesn’t wait until his schedule is clear. He’s present in the noise, in the quiet, in the joy, and in the exhaustion:
“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5).
So if May, August, December or any other time is kicking your butt; take a breath. Grab some iced coffee (or something a little stronger), order the cupcakes rather than baking them, and eat one, too. Give yourself some grace. You’re doing better than you think, even if you didn’t remind your son that it’s “crazy hat Wednesday”.
Your kids aren’t asking for perfect parents, just present parents—as God is with us all. Whether it’s spirit week or a Saturday in July, may God help us be present.
Disclaimer: This article is 100% human-generated.
(A fun side note—Brother Lawrence didn’t even publish that book. Some people found these letters he was sending to a friend well after he had passed, and thought DANG, this is good stuff, people should read it!)
Reflections to share? Got an idea for an article? Email us at articles@crossroads.net
At Crossroads, we major on the majors and minor on the minors. We welcome a diverse community of people who all agree that Jesus is Lord and Savior, even if they view minor theological and faith topics in different ways based on their unique experiences. Our various authors embody that principle, and we approach you, our reader, in the same fashion. You don’t have to agree with every detail of any article you see here to be part of this community or pursue faith. Chances are even our whole staff doesn’t even agree with every detail of what you just read. We are okay with that tension. And we think God is okay with that, too. The foundation of everything we do is a conviction that the Bible is true and that accepting Jesus is who he said he is leads to a healthy life of purpose and adventure—and eternal life with God.
