"I'm sorry"
I guess I felt that if I couldn't learn anything else, I wanted to learn how to be polite. The phrase that brings comfort after accidentally brushing up against someone, forgetting a person's name, changing my mind when ordering food or requesting a small favor.
When hearing what I actually wanted to use the phrase for, my Chinese teacher gave me a blank look and just said "We don't really apologize for things like that. With those things you didn't do anything wrong." Hmmm...
Why am I so insistent on clinging to the proverbial cushion to my conversations? How many times do I actually say I'm sorry for things that do not warrant an apology?
When I first came to China and was getting used to having a guard open our gate for us, I remember my conversations to that man looking something like this:
"Duibuchi...mafan ni....duibuchi...feichang xie xie.....zaijian" with a BIG smile.
(I'm sorry...don't mean to bother you...so sorry...thank you SO MUCH.....bye :) :) :)!)
This man sat all day to open that door for people. Why do I need to apologize for asking him to do exactly that? Was it a nervous rambling that was responding to his grumpy exterior? Was it my personal fear that he might not actually open the gate for me? Was it my subconscious chatter from 21 years of being raised to be "courteous?" Or was I just proud that I new some Chinese, so gave him an earful of practice?
No matter what the truth behind the motive, this mindless babble needs some serious revisiting. Cause I'm a wife and a mom...and nervous babbling can hurt hearts.
Now having a baby, I find myself already unearthing the subconscious apologies. Saying "I'm sorry" because my daughter gives strangers a poker face no matter how hard they try to make her smile. Apologizing when the only sound she knows to make is an ear piercing deafening scream. Or when she's grumpy in public. Or is the only one crying in the baby photo shoot. The list goes on. But why oh WHY am I apologizing?
When Nora is old enough and makes willful sinful actions that warrant an apology, then sure, I will encourage her to say she is sorry. Even if she accidentally does something that may have hurt someone, I will hopefully model and train her to apologize. But may I never apologize for her because she is "embarrassing me."
I can get away with it now because she's a baby and doesn't fully understand my words. But I want this to resonate with me before my words can cut into her sensitive little heart. I don't want to apologize for my daughter's awkward fashion choices when she's a teen, her driving skills, or sloppy way she eats food at the table. I don't want to apologize if she has fears of Chinese people touching her, wants to wear all of her clothes backwards for a year, or enjoys picking her nose and eating what's inside. Yes, some of these things may need a bit of redirection. But that can be in private...where no one needs to notice that I "disapprove." For I would be humiliated if I saw someone look at their friends and apologize for me.
So for those things that don't really warrant an "I'm sorry", may I respond to them instead with a smile, a grace-filled exhaled breath, or no acknowledgement at all. For that's who she is. And for right now...it's normal.
While this post is getting long, I didn't want to leave out the beautiful blessings that are helping to mold me into the mom I want to be. While in China I get to live in a foreign community of women who have kids. I get to watch how they shine Jesus through their love that endures all, bears all, and believes all...and quietly...with no apologies needed. And it's beautiful.
The mother who breathes calmly without a hint of agitation as her toddler screams at the top of her lungs.
The beauty in gentle whispers spoken to toddler ears, reluctant to share toys.
The eye level re-direction toward a young son's inner rage.
The subtle shake of the head that is acknowledged across the room.
Even the nose kisses given after a ferocious chin bite.
It's the beauty in these moments that remind me we don't need to apologize when our kids are strange, moody, or unpredictably disobedient. For we are all unashamedly enduring it together.
