I write about being a parent. It's what I do. It's my life and I eat, sleep, drink and breathe it in every moment of every day and I want to. I want to soak up this life and these little souls while they are little and fill up my day with them. I have grown to know that right now, in this life, in my life, raising these souls well is enough, it is a great high purpose to which the extent of it's reaches will likely never be fully known to me. I have power.
I'm learning to use it wisely.
My last post was about my issue with anger. It hasn't subsided, it's always there under the surface, brimming, waiting for its chance to strike. I won't let it. I have, I have let out that ugly monster on occasion but feel my children are beginning to grow up in a place where it is no longer the norm and I can only thank and praise the supernatural power of the Spirit that is within me. It could not have come from me alone.
In this time of learning to deal with issues of respect and obedience and far more importantly, the attitudes of the heart, a great revelation has come to me.
My children are
PEOPLE.
It's a simple truth but in all my efforts to tame, teach, control and coerce them into doing my bidding, I lost sight of that fact. That children aren't some other category of life form until they leave the home, they are people from the very moment they are born. I would never treat another adult the way I have them. Boss them around all day, give them no room for error, expect them to do things all day long that they hate with a "happy heart." I had to step back. Look at MY heart and figure out why their obedience was so important to me. What I realized was really ugly. Though a large factor in my desiring them to be respectful and obedient came from a heart to teach them unquestioning obedience to the Father I put my faith in, there was a huge motivation to preserve an image. An image of me as a model parent, of having answers, of being "good" at what I am doing. But I'm not. Any good that results in my parenting is the fruit of the spirit I pledge these children to, the stuff I do out of my own character? Not good fruit.
So I've taken a stand and am seeing the most beautiful of (slow) transformations in the hearts of my oldest two children. Asher, who often got the heaviest load of my expectations, now gets grace. He gets a hug when he makes a mistake, even when he intentionally does something wrong, I'm learning to stop. Get at his level, give him space to figure out why he is acting as such, tell him why it bothers me to see him act this way, speak LIFE INTO HIS BONES by telling him I know how good he CAN be, and that THAT is the boy he is.
I'm putting away the distractions to look into the eyes of my children more. We are staying home on purpose, not going to so many play dates and outings so that we can learn to love each other fully, so they can grow to see the joy of having siblings to go on great sofa cushion adventures with.
