“Daughter”

a monologue by Cora Patterson

Sometimes I don’t understand my mom at all. I know she must’ve been my age at some point, but she just doesn’t seem to get it. There’s so much pressure to grow up and work hard and figure out who I am and do this and do that and check off all these boxes. There’s so much going on and I just want to sit for a moment and enjoy what’s happening around me. But all she seems to see is that everyone else is working, and I’m not. Everyone else is doing what they’re supposed to do. But what if that’s what I’m supposed to do? What if I’m supposed to be taking some time to appreciate God right now? Doesn’t she realize that maybe I’m not the same as everyone else? Why can’t she trust that I’ll get the work done, even if it takes me a little longer? It’s a beautiful day, and I want to enjoy it.

Isn’t that what God wants too? I mean, it’s gorgeous out here. God didn’t make all of this just so that we could spend every second working and ignoring the beauty all around us. How am I supposed to appreciate how blue the sky is and how green the leaves are if I’m just picking apples? Hasn’t my mom ever read the story of Mary and Martha? Jesus himself said that work isn’t the only thing that matters. I’m trying to spend tine with Jesus.

The thing is, I haven’t been so good at that lately. I mean, I’ve been busy, but maybe that’s just an excuse. I know I need to spend more time with Jesus. It’s just, I don’t know how to tell my mom that I really need to reconnect with God right now. I know I’ve been drifting. But in this moment, with all this beauty around me, I can really feel God. I just need my mom to understand that.

It’s not like I’m trying to fight with her. I was going to pick the apples. I just wanted to take a break for a little bit. Even when I am picking apples, it’s not enough for her. No, I can’t just pick them, I have to use a ladder. Why does it matter, anyways? When I don’t use a ladder, I can pick the apples that you can’t reach from the ladder. She says she’s trying to protect me, but I’ve never fallen before. She thinks I’m just doing what I want. Really, I’m just trying to do what I think God wants.

Sometimes I don’t understand my mom at all. But sometimes I think she loses sight of what really matters. It’s hard to remember that she’s a person too, walking on her own path with God, and making her own mistakes. Maybe if I work a little harder at picking apples, she’ll have a little more time to appreciate the beauty that’s around us.