The Right Knees

I spent the day with my granddaughter. She reached for my knees. It reminded me of this Whisper that I published in May, 2013.

I saw her pirouetting around the room.
Sh was obviously trying to pass the time while her mother was shopping.
I almost envied her abandon.

She was wearing a twirly skirt, which she obviously loved to wear, as she danced.
She had rain boots on her feet, not the ballet slippers I would have imagined.
She was carefree, not yet affected by the whims of the world.

She was an individual, just like the little boys I see in their superhero capes.
I can dance and I’m good at it!
I can defeat the enemy before breakfast.

The little dancer spun around too much or too fast.
She stumbled a bit; I’m sure the room was moving as well.
She needed to balance herself and grabbed the closest thing to her.
My knees.

I was standing nearby and wearing jeans just like her mom.
From her vantage point, jeans were jeans.
I must be her mom.

She grabbed the wrong knees.

I didn’t mind.
It was a precious moment to help steady her.
She looked up as I looked down.
She realized I was not her mom.

You could see the panic in her face.
Her mom was right there and called to her.
She ran to her and grabbed the right knees.
Her mom and I laughed at the tenderness of the moment.

Only her mom would do and I wasn’t her mom!

Motherhood.
That sacred calling.

One person, alone, with the right knees.

Every year His parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of Passover. When He was twelve years old, they went up to the Feast according to the custom. After the Feast was over, while His parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. Thinking He was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began to look for Him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find Him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for Him. After three days, they found Him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard Him was amazed at His understanding and His answers. When His parents saw Him, they were astonished. “Son, why have You treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” “Why were you searching for Me?” He asked. ” Didn’t you know I had to be in My Father’s house?” But they did no understand what He was saying to them. Then He went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. (Luke 2:41-52)

The one window we have into Jesus’ childhood is when His parents lost Him.
Imagine the panic and .the confusion they must have felt.

Jesus was just fine.
He was in His Father’s house.
That is where He belonged.

Even moments like these are treasured in a mother’s heart.
They may not be understood at the time, but they are precious to her.
The right knees, hers and her child’s, even if they are scraped a bit.

Having the right knees has less to do with birthing and more to do with loving.
The mother who sits up at night when you have a bad dream.
The mother who rubs your back when you are sick.
The mother who is your biggest cheerleader.
The mother who tells you that you can be anything; you can do anything.
The mother who tells you about Jesus and reads His Word to you.

THAT is the mother with the right knees.
They may be scraped, Band-aid-ed, and bruised, but they are the right knees for you.
Looking up into the right pair of eyes and seeing yourself mirrored back.

The right knees are less about birthing and more about loving.

Those are the knees that have held you as you sit on her lap.
Those are the knees that have knelt in prayer for you and with you.
Those are the right knees.

The nobility of motherhood.
One set of knees Divinely matched with one set of knees.