A couple of weeks ago I was really struggling with my
oldest. While we have a lot in common,
she is still very different from me. She
communicates a lot like her dad – a code I’ve still not cracked. It’s much easier for me to plow through
things with Clare. Somehow it seems like
when the dust settles, we are on the same team.
Not the case with me and Soph.
One night I was overwhelmed with frustration. I cried myself to sleep, feeling helpless about how I could possibly relate to this child and be the mom she needs me to be. I want to be a mom of encouragement, not criticism. I want to be a mom of support, not anger. I want to know how to speak to my daughter. Not speechless in the moments that seem to be perfect for... something.
One night I was overwhelmed with frustration. I cried myself to sleep, feeling helpless about how I could possibly relate to this child and be the mom she needs me to be. I want to be a mom of encouragement, not criticism. I want to be a mom of support, not anger. I want to know how to speak to my daughter. Not speechless in the moments that seem to be perfect for... something.
The next morning our mom’s group got together for our Bible
Study. We are reading a book called
Mom…and Loving It, because (let’s face it), sometimes we don’t love it. We opened up the book that morning to the
chapter called Being Content with Your Kids.
Sweet. I recognized immediately
that I was in the right place at the right time. One of the author’s shares about an
especially frustrating moment that she was having, which culminated in a
perspective-changing revelation: Since
God made this child, and knit her inmost being in the womb, He can give
“insight into who she is and what makes her tick.” He knows her best. He has a plan for her. He can guide her mother to understand her
better. I have to believe that this
would be his will. The author began
praying “Lord, give me Your eyes to see her the way You do.” (We should be praying this about all people,
shouldn’t we?)
This was effective for this mother and she says something
that really caught me then: “I began to accept her for who she was and not so much who
I wanted her to be.” We all have hopes and dreams for our children, don’t
we? Visions of their success, their
happiness. Sometimes those are given to
us from God; sometimes they are our own.
I have yet to pray this prayer as regularly as I’d
like. But God is gifting me with a
little more clarity on this issue. My
children are so different. And I know
this is a gift and not a curse. I love
how they bring such different perspectives and ideas to the table. I can’t imagine what great things God has in
store for them, where they can use their talents and gifts to glorify him. (Easy to write this while they are sleeping. J)
When Sophie was about Clare’s age, she eloquently shared
with her Sunday School teacher her understanding of Easter. It was beautiful and touching and brought the
teacher, and me, to tears. Yesterday
after Sunday School, Clare and I had this conversation:
“What did you learn in Sunday School today?” I asked her as
we were lounging around together on my bed.
“About the women who brought something for Jesus.”
“To wash his feet?”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “No! Ya
know.. the women came to the tune!”
“Oh, to take care of his body! Right.
The tomb.”
“Yeah. They came to
the tune. And he wasn’t there!” She pauses and puts her feet on my headboard.
She smiled and said, “They were amazed!”
I smile. “Yes! Very cool.
It’s neat that they were given the job to tell people about him not
being there!”
“Yeah! They gave each
other high-fives!”
“Really?!” We laugh
together. I’m sure they did, Babe. Good call.
Not the insight that Sophie had, but still a great
revelation. Love my kids.
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