Carpool Chaos

This morning was… a lot.

There were cereal meltdowns, someone’s pants were squeaking them (still not sure what that means), Miss May was fully asleep at the table, and I was packing what felt like 37 lunches and 12 backpacks. Somewhere between trying to find a missing shoe and convincing someone that, yes, you do have to wear socks to school, I realized I hadn’t done Tater Tot’s hair.

She didn’t fuss though. She just grabbed her brush and detangler, walked right up to me at the kitchen island, and said, “Here, Mom.”

And right there, standing between the lunchboxes, homework forms, and half a sink of dishes, I brushed out her long, tangled hair.

And I swear, I could hear my grandmother’s voice:

“Don’t brush hair in the kitchen!”

That was one of her pet peeves. Ignore the fact that she cut hair in the kitchen, or that she was known to washed my hair in the sink with Dawn dish soap and vinegar. (Yes, really.) But somehow, brushing hair in the kitchen was where she drew the line.

I loved her. I respected her. And I carry so many of her lessons with me every single day.

But this morning, with six kids and chaos swirling, I realized something — her world wasn’t mine.

She raised two kids. I have six. She had six grandchildren, but rarely did she keep us all at once. She didn’t have a smartphone pinging with school apps or a minivan filled with Goldfish crumbs. She had permed hair and a corded phone. Her kitchen smelled like cornbread and Pantene.

Our worlds look different. But the heart of what she taught me hasn’t changed a bit.

It reminds me of when Paul wrote to Timothy, reminding him of the faith that lived first in his grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice (2 Timothy 1:5). Paul wasn’t talking about perfect women who had it all together — he was talking about faithful women. Women who passed down a faith that could stand the test of time, even as everything around them changed.

Timothy’s world didn’t look like his grandmother’s either. Hers was rooted in Jewish tradition; his was the early Christian church, brand new and bursting with challenges. A topic which I imagine came up frequently when Timothy did something not traditional. (But that’s just my thought)

But through all the change, God’s Word stayed the same.

And that’s what I’m clinging to.

Because the rules of motherhood might evolve (and apparently, brushing hair in the kitchen is one of them). Our mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers did not operate in the world of today.

However, the same God who walked with my grandmother in her small-town kitchen walks with me in mine — even when there’s cereal on the floor and detangler in the lunchbox.

So today, I’m grateful. Grateful for a God who’s the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever—Hebrews 13:8

And grateful for grandmothers who taught us to keep our kitchens clean… even if we don’t always listen.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go fish a hairbrush out of the trash can.

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