“Mother”

a monologue by Denise Boyer

That child is going to be the death of me. She was in the tree. IN THE TREE! I asked her to help pick fruit in the orchard. She of course doesn’t get a ladder to pick the fruit like everyone else. She must climb the tree to pick it! And not just any tree, the largest one. The one that has been around since I was little.

By me saying something to her, it turns into a heated argument.

Me: I’m looking out for your safety.

Her: No, you have to have everything done your way.

Me: There are safer ways to pick the fruit.

Her: You’re just trying to control the situation.

Back and forth it goes, because that is the season we are in. I don’t mean apple picking season.

I don’t want to control the situation at all. I’m just looking out for her safety, that’s all. I feel like I’d be doing her a dis-service if I didn’t do my best to keep her safe.

After this little banter with my daughter, my mother said to me, “Loyalty comes when there is room for unfaithfulness.”

I asked her, ‘What are you talking about?”

“She will learn the depth of your love if you allow her space to make decisions. Decisions that may not always align with your thinking. Keep loving her. Her adoration will come around, but only with room for infidelity.”

As my mom is saying all of this, I look up, and my daughter is just sitting in the tree. Not picking anything. Just sitting there.

Of course, my mind rushes to point out the disobedience she’s displaying. I’ve asked her to pick apples. Everyone else is picking apples. Everyone else is using a ladder.

So, then I snap at her, pushing out of my head everything that my mother just said. I just want her to make the right choices. I don’t want her to be lured by the fruit tree like Eve. I don’t want her entertaining the idea that she can always have it her way, that she doesn’t have to listen to anyone but herself. I’m just thinking, disobedience in the small things leads to disobedience in the big things. Yes, you’ve been there. All these thoughts rushing through your head all at once.

Then I yelled at her, “Get down. Start picking fruit like everyone else. Do what you’ve been asked to do.”

She climbed down and just looked at me.

I said, “Why are you pushing the envelope, doing what you want and not what has been asked of you?

Then she said to me, “I know you asked me to pick the fruit. You didn’t tell me I only had five minutes to do it.”

“Maybe sometimes I just want to climb the tree and see what Zaccheus saw, Jesus. Not everything I do is out of disobedience to you. Sometimes I just want to make sure what I believe in my heart is real. When I look out over the orchard, I think of how beautiful Eden must have been. Before we tainted everything with sin.”

Then she said, “Mom, I will reach for the fruit sometimes, just like you, and sin. But sometimes, sometimes, I just need to see Jesus too.”

She walked away and went to picking apples.

As she walked away, my mother whispered, ‘Devotion comes when there’s room for unfaithfulness.”