But we think it should be. Don’t we?
I wrote a few weeks ago, “It is infuriating to go through each day and feel as though you are not winning in any area. In motherhood, in fitness, in finances, in healthy eating, in laundry, in cleaning, in schooling… I often wonder if I can ever win. And I often wonder if I am meant to.” (Attempted Slaughter of the Down Hoodie)
We see the ugly. The poop smeared on walls, the sibling bullying, the tantrums, the defiance. We see our own ugliness. Impatience. Anger. Comparison. Lack of humor. Lack of imagination.
I’ve spent much of the last two weeks thinking on all this. Ruminating. Marinating even. And I am honestly sure I would not, no could not, love my kids without Jesus. Nearly every day I reach the end myself and He is there to offer himself. His strength and His hope.
Maybe this doesn’t resonate with you. That’s ok. I write it mainly for myself. I have to remember a few things. Like:
When I don’t know what to do, do the next right thing.
When my blood starts to boil, keep my mouth shut.
Parenting is hard. Harder than climbing fourteeners, running or climbing. But in the end it is that much more valuable.
I am not wasting my time or my energy. My kids are real people with real dreams and real eternal futures. And I am setting their course.
No kid ever benefited from mom and dad “looking the other way.” Discipline is often necessary in shaping their character.
Equally necessary is my love. Not just love. Everyone loves their kids. But they need my enjoyment of who they are.
A little time really listening to them goes a long way.
When I notice myself off in the wrong direction, don’t despair. Pray. Change direction. Get up and get back on track.
That unruly toddler will one day shock you to tears with their kindness.