Boy 3 chases his sister, growling, yelling, and swinging his arms. By intervening, I become the target of his wrath. This is sometimes life with my passionate warrior learning self control.
Boy 1 is taking charge, issuing commands, leading like a dictatorial tyrant. It’s play my way or don’t play at all when he gets like this. This is sometimes life with my born leader learning humility.
Baby Lady is all drama, screaming and falling over, blaming brothers, making a scene. The girl has a message that she is determined to communicate with flourish. This is sometimes life with my dramatic fireball learning patience.
Boy 2 is on the floor, moaning, refusing all help. A horrible thing has happened to him and there is no one in the world who can understand. This is sometimes life with my sensitive soul who is learning to be brave-hearted.
Every mother knows her children have flaws and weaknesses. The question we must face is what to do with that knowledge.
The difficulty lies in the way we first meet them. Babies seem so innocent. Someone has lied to us, compared a new baby to fresh clay, awaiting our wise hands to mold them. We take them on like a computer we have been asked to program or an empty room we have been hired to fit with the proper furniture, appliances, and decor.
When did I begin thinking that all of my children’s needs are neon arrows pointing back to me?
If babies are computers, they are not new and untainted by viruses. If they are rooms they are not free of structural deficiencies. Children don’t start out innocent. We are all born with a flawed nature and a need for a Savior. A mama can easily start thinking that she is the savior her children need. If a mama isn’t humble, she can let her children’s flaws define her.
Maybe the confusion is the natural result of mama love mixing with mama duty. I would lay down my life for these little people. God puts a devotion so deep, so instinctive in us, we can confuse ourselves with Him. Plus, no baby would survive without someone to care for them. As they grow older, they still expect us to meet their every need. Oftentines, we expect the same. It can be difficult to wean them and ourselves off that expectation.
To live up to that self-imposed standard we read parenting books and troll the Internet for advice. We beg God to fix them, to help us teach them. We search for parents with children who seem whole and try to replicate their successful methods.
Good advice can help build healthy families. But even the best parenting advice can’t save a soul.
Have I forgotten that the gospel is the only answer? Have I lost sight of how much God wants my children to need Him more than they need me? Am I willing to step back and let them find that they have shame that only He can bear, failures that only He can redeem, and sins that only He can forgive?
That neon arrow of sin my children bear needs to point to Jesus. After all, I have neon arrows of my own, and try as I may to point them at those around me, that only leaves me right where I started and also wounds the people I love.
None of us are innocent, but Jesus has carried our guilt to the cross. It has taken me a long time to learn how the gospel can answer my deepest needs. In all truth, I am still learning the delicate power of the sacrifice God made for me. It may take more than a few conversations for my children to get it, too.
In the meantime, we will need to learn to love one another in our sin and sorrow like He has. This is always life with the children of God learning grace and truth.
