“I wish you were young so I could see what your face looked like.”
Aaah. Kids. They say exactly what’s on their little minds. Sometimes it’s hilarious. And other times? Well, it’s not.
Our little Vivienne has always been an imitator. From the time she was a tiny toddler, she wanted to dress like me and act like me, sit like me and walk like me.
She also loves to act like her teenage sister. Just the other day, she was talking animatedly, waving her hands around, and I thought to myself, “This child is a teenager in a five-year old’s body.”
I have numerous pictures of the two of us, dressed similarly, and often she will come downstairs to see what I’m wearing then rush back to her room to change clothes so she can look more like me. Her outfit is usually pretty spot on, complete with bracelets, a watch, a necklace and even eye shadow and lipstick.
She tells me all the time: “I just wanna look like you.” And she constantly wants to know if “daddy knows everything like Jesus.”
I must admit that it’s more than a little flattering, this quest of hers to be like me. But it’s also terrifying.
What mannerisms is she picking up? What bad habits is she forming? If she could see my past, what I was actually like when I was younger, what would she think?
My sweet child wants to look like me and can imitate me almost perfectly. But who am I imitating? Who do I want to look like?
I recently heard David Platt say this:
“The greatest need in my marriage, the greatest need in my parenting, is for me to look like Jesus.”
Do I want to look like Jesus? Do you?
2 Corinthians 3:2-3 (ESV) says this: “You yourselves are our letter of recommendation, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all. And you show that you are a letter from Christ delivered by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”
When my sweet girl looks at me, I want her to see Jesus. I want her to “read the letter” of my life and see Christ’s writing all over it.
It’s a tall order, isn’t it, Mamas? This being like Jesus. But it’s what we are called to do.
Oh, Lord, there are little eyes watching me all the time. May you mold me into Your image and pour Your Spirit out on my life so that when they look at me, they see only You.
Your daughter is precious, Adrienne. It’s a tall order, isn’t it, to look like Jesus? I try, but I know I look just the opposite quite often. What I find comforting, though, is that when I fail and own up to it to my kids–when I acknowledge my shortcomings and apologize–they can learn how to do that too. This post is a good reminder not to slack off in this life letter I’m writing for my children!
Thank you, Lois! And yes, apologizing for our shortcomings is so important and yet so difficult sometimes. Blessings!