There are 3 topics that I’ve wanted to write about lately and I hate that I’ll only cover one of them today. Today I’ll discuss how God is moving in my heart concerning parenting, but look for a post about Being Comfy and The Many Blessings of Adoption Fundraising soon.
I’m just so grateful that God chose to use ordinary men and women to illustrate His promises and lessons through the words of the Bible, aren’t you? Imagine how much more difficult it would be to understand Jesus’ teachings if he didn’t use James (his brother who lived under the same roof as God in the flesh and didn’t believe, even mocked him!), Peter (who’s emotional instability and fits of anger I totally relate to), and Paul (who’s prestigious life serves as an example of how to die to ourselves).
I’ve been stuck on certain convictions for a while now and I’m so grateful that God is faithful to reveal answers in His own time. One area that I’ve been praying over for many, many, months is in the parenting department. I recognized long ago that I’m incapable of being the kind of parent that God desires me to be if I don’t ask Him to guide me in this area. In my months of prayer God has opened my eyes to different ways to show my sweet babies love, mercy, and grace, but it isn’t always easy. I find many times that I want to throw a temper tantrum right along with them- and often do!
About a year ago I remember thinking that I’m supposed to mirror Christ’s love in this parenting gig, so I should look at His life and find some examples to use as I go. It didn’t take long to realize that Jesus didn’t have kids. You won’t be surprised to know that in my own self righteousness and lack of humility, I sure did approach God with this prayer: “God, I know that you tell me to trust in you and you will direct my path and I should give everything in me to live a life that reflects the life of Jesus, but what in the world does Jesus know about poopey diapers and breastfeeding?” I remember this prayer specifically. I was praying it in my head as I pushed 2 snotty, screaming kids through the produce department of the grocery store on the 3rd call night of the week. (That means that Carey had worked A LOT that week and wasn’t coming home that night either). I also remember it specifically because I was startled back to humility when I felt an immediate response to my prayer: “Oh, you don’t think I know about parenting, Little Miss Priss? (My mom would call me by that when I was sassin’ her back in the day. God used it to emphasize my disrespect to Him as my Heavenly Father. Point taken)
There have been other ways that God has taught and encouraged me through scripture on this topic, but yesterday I was blessed to have another revelation. I sat at the top of the stairs with ear plugs in trying to work on a chapter in my Bible study while Hayes did anything to avoid sleep in the room to my left and Aisley threw a massive tantrum in the room to my right. I was reflecting on another conviction about finding joy and peace in God who tells us that His grace is suffiecent. I’m trying to apply this to the areas of weakness in my life, none of which included parenting (I am alone in thinking peace and parenting oxymorons?). But as I sat there trying to block out the screaming, I could just feel the blood boiling inside of me. (I was sitting in the hall because I needed Aisley to stay in bed and being close is the best way to catch her in the act of getting down to play. Otherwise I’d let them fuss it out while I sat in the warm sunshine.) I wanted to throw open that door and land into that child with words spewing so fast and loud that she couldn’t deny my anger or refuse to obey. After all, I’m her mother! How dare she disobey me? But fortunately I’ve seen that this does far more damage than good and by His grace I was able to control that urge.
Then it occurred to me that in that very moment, I’m not at peace. I don’t feel joy. I wasn’t allowing God’s grace to be enough. Wow. Really, God? I have to be at peace and maintain my joy even while being slapped around by the terrible two's?
Most mornings I pray for guidence as a momma. If I happen to forget, you better believe that morning the kids come downstairs and quickly bring me to my knees! :) I can see that God is working on controlling my patience and teaching me to remain gentle through the many cups of spilt milk. But I had never put the two together. God had been showing me how to respond with grace and mercy when my precious babies pushed the limit, but I was never able to see that even during those times I can discipline in love because of the peace and joy I have through Him. Maybe I was slower to start huffing and puffing at the kiddos, but you sure could see that I wasn’t happy and at any moment I might blow the house down. But if I discipline from a place of peace and joy, then those sweet babies will still feel my love while I discipline. Isn’t that a little more Biblically sound than flying off the handle?
Hopefully this is common sense to most of you. Unfortunately though, I see lots of mommas who are just trying to survive the toddler years because they haven’t learned to let that Sunday morning peace and joy stick with them throughout the week.
Hello Lacy, I think all of the responses you are going through are normal as a Mom...I remember the frustration at times of two toddlers. Doing it by the grace and mercy of God obviously works for you. I remember it being particularily hard when Tom was gone overnight or for a couple of days (I suddenly felt the weight of all the responsibility for these two small frail beings who put so much trust in me). I do remember one thing that was helpful for the spilt milk was to put a sticker where the glass needed to go and than to gently remind them to put the glass on the sticker. It saved a few tears and mom yelling. I felt it was important to discipline them for attitude rather than mistakes. Another fun tool was a trunk that I would put their toys in at the end of the day that they did not pick up. I called it the "too bad box" as it was too bad the boys had not put the toys away. Than when the sabbath came the toys were liberated and they were able to have them again. I remember Brian pointing out a trunk in the store and calling it the "BIG BAD box". When my boys were that age was probably the time of my life that I enjoyed the most and would most like to go back to. Aunt Kate
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