Reflections from an imperfect mommy

Without a doubt her ongoing attitude and treatment of everyone around her needed to be addressed. She was clearly in the wrong.

She just wasn't getting it. Clearly, she wasn't sorry at all for what she was doing.

I finally let it get to me and I erupted. Not in a loud, angry eruption. My words were more like the slow pouring lava running down the side of the mountain. They just kept flowing.

My logical comments and arguments against her actions were coming fast. And I didn't make any effort to focus or slow down. I was determined that she needed to understand what she was doing. I was even more determined that she should feel bad about it.

But all of my lecturing didn't work. She was still in a mood that demanded everyone around her do what she wanted, how she wanted, and when she wanted. It was clear as she sat there staring at me. After another demanding comment, I sent her to her room. I asked her to remain there until her attitude had changed. She obeyed and went upstairs.

Relieved for the momentary fix, I finished fixing lunch for two of my other children. (thankfully, baby C was in bed) During this moment I began to reflect on what had just occurred.

I began to think about the verbiage I offloaded on her. A seven year old little girl. In front of her siblings. It began to sink in that she wasn't the only one who needed a changed heart. I began to realize how deeply I may have hurt her.

Why am I so hard on her? It is probably because of all my children, her actions most reflect mine. And deep inside, that frightens me. I look at her and I see me. And I want to make her realize what she is doing. Because I know exactly what she is doing. And I want both of us to fix it.

I knew that I needed to head upstairs to talk to her, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to fix it. My imperfect parenting had done its job, so I began to pray for God to begin healing this mess.

I left two of my children eating at the kitchen table as I headed up to talk to their sister. She was in her bed, completely under the covers with her eyes closed. I had anticipated tears and sobbing, but this cold silence made it harder for me. I knew she was hurt.

I stood there a moment, praying and contemplating my next move. Divinely inspired, I walk over to her bed and climbed into her top bunk. I decided to lie down next to her and put my arm around her. Immediately, she turn toward me on her side and just snuggled in. And I held her close for a good five minutes of silence.

I love you so much, sweetie. I am so sorry that I hurt you. I wish mommy was perfect, but I am not. I am sorry I was so hard on you. Do you forgive me?

She did. Through her silent tears.

I don't know why I am so hard on you sometimes. Maybe it is because you are so much like me.

She smiled as she was looking at the ceiling. Smiled? Oh my dear child, why on earth would you want to be like this imperfect mother of yours? But she took such comfort and joy in the comment.

I quietly hugged her again, praying over and over that God would keep His hand on our relationship. She can't see it, but I can. She and I are going to have a tough road. We both control with our words, for good and for bad. I prayed again for God to heal this mess. Today and for the future.

Then I reassured her that I am so glad that she is my daughter. After giving her a big hug and kiss, I headed back downstairs. She followed shortly after, completely changed.

We had a wonderful afternoon.

But moments like that remind me how fragile my children are. My own sinfulness and imperfections glare at me. Without my Heavenly Father to work in the midst of my imperfections, I fear there would be utter disaster.

Thankfully, He is always at work in the hearts of His children. And that afternoon, He took an utter disaster and replaced it with joy.

So, when daddy put her to bed that night, she told him that mommy had cuddled in bed with her that afternoon. She was beaming about it. In fact, her sister decided that she wanted some time the next day. She never mentioned why mommy climbed in her bed. That part of the story was forgotten and wiped clean. And I am forever grateful to my Savior who works in the midst of my imperfections.

Why share this?
Your comments, questions, and encouraging words about my post about obedience have been so wonderful, a reason that I love to blog. But I wanted to make sure I wasn't giving anyone the impression that my techniques are some sort of "answer". My household can seem so happy and wonderful if you only read my blog. I often share funny stories and parenting wisdom that I have tried to implement.

But all of the knowledge, discipline plans, and chore systems in the world will not fix my imperfections. Only God, in His mercy and grace can change my heart and the heart of my children.

I pray daily that He will continue to work out His perfect plan in the lives of my children. I am thankful when He uses me in that plan. And I am so very grateful for the many times that He works in spite of me.

Romans 8:28, "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

Hebrews 13:20-21, "Now may the God of peace who brought up our Lord Jesus from the dead, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you complete in every good work to do His will, working in you (and me) what is well pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.