This thing called love

Last night, like every night, I was giving the boys some hugs and kisses as I tucked them in. Sometimes, the need to tuck frustrates me when it's late or I'm busy or don't feel well, and I know they are perfectly capable of pulling their own covers up. They do it one or twelve times a night when they get up to go potty, but at bedtime they MUST have me to put their covers on. In fact, Ethan has been known to be fully under the covers (because, you know, it gets cold here, and they insist on sleeping in boxers), but as soon as I walk in the room he throws them off and says, "Mommy, I need you to tuck me!"

But, in my heart of hearts I know better than to wish it away. I know that all too soon, they won't want my hugs and kisses at night, and they will think they are too big to be tucked. I remind myself that these few short years of them wanting, needing, my affection will be memories before I know it.

So, last night I was tucking in Ethan, and I said, "I love you so much you don't even know." He replied, "I do, too, know how much you love me!"

As happy as it makes me that he feels so confident of my love, I know that it is untrue. He does not know because he cannot know. He has never been a parent. He has no idea what it is to love someone so much it hurts, to be willing to trade your own life in a heartbeat for another's, to feel not only his own hurts and fears and disappointments, but another's - three others' - as well. Though he loves, he can't yet comprehend the full measure of a parent's capacity for love.

As I thought about this, it occurred to me that I know as little about God's love for me as Ethan knows of my love for him. I know God loves me. I even thought when I became a parent that I understood His love completely now. "Aah," thought I, "I get it now. This is what truly, completely unconditional love feels like. Now I understand God's love." And, while I do understand it more than I did before, I suspect I am still as clueless as Ethan. What can I possibly understand of the love of the creator and framer of the world, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, He who is without beginning and without end? I know only of the human's - the created's - capacity for love and nothing truly of Almighty God's.

I know what He tells me, which is this: "The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing" (Zephaniah 3:17, emphasis mine.) And this: "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins" (I John 4:10, emphasis mine.)

I would do well to remind myself that it is a love beyond my ability to comprehend. And I'm okay with that.

It's good to be the beloved.

To know and be known

We had open house at the boys' school last week. This, of course, involved visiting their classrooms, checking out samples of their school work, and basically seeing what it is they do all day.

Ethan's class had colored pictures of scarecrows, and they were hanging on the wall outside his classroom. The pictures did not have names on the front, but after perusing them for a minute or two, I bet Ethan that I could guess which one was his. I pointed to the one I knew had to be it, and he was so impressed that I could pick his picture out of all the ones hanging on the wall.

I know Ethan. I know his skill level and that he is a perfectionist, so he would not have scribbled or gone outside the lines. I know that he does not press down so hard that the color looks waxy like some of them did. I know that he likes things to be the correct color, so he would have colored the straw hat brown or yellow not green or blue. I know him.

There are a lot of difficult things about being a stay-at-home mom. The hours are tough, the job unpredictable, and the sick leave non-existent. I've missed being in the courtroom and wearing suits and having conversations with other adults on a regular basis. I've grown weary of the whining and the fighting and the crying.

But, you know what? I LOVE how well I know my kids. Having sent neither son to preschool, I have spent virtually all of my time with them for the past five years. There are very few milestones that I haven't witnessed, not many skills they possess that I haven't taught them, few questions they've asked that I have not answered, and a limited number of funny (or brilliant) things they've said that I have not heard.

I have been here.

Now that my boys are in school all day, I am recognizing what a precious gift that has been. I won't lie - I'm relishing the freedom that comes with two kids in school. But, I do miss them. I hate that someone else is the eyewitness to their days now, and I'm relegated to hearing what few things they can remember at the end of the day. (Even Lauren, after three hours of preschool, when asked what she did there, most often responds, "I don't remember." Is it that their joy over seeing me overwhelms all of their other mental faculties so that they are unable to remember anything they did in school except eat lunch?)

Like Ethan when I spotted his picture, Joshua was equally impressed on Saturday when I told him I could tell which player he was even from several soccer fields away. I unexpectedly was the assistant coach for Ethan's game Saturday morning, so I did not get to go watch Josh's since it was at the same time. But, I told him that even from so far away, I could tell from the way he stands which player was him. "No you couldn't," he said, "How do I stand?" So, I showed him. And, I was exactly right.

It made me think of how well my Heavenly Father must know me if I, an imperfect human parent, can know my kids so intimately, can pick up on the most intricate details of who they are.

It feels good to know, and it may feel even better to be known.

Biblical Reproof

I have been re-reading Ginger Plowman's Don't Make Me Count to Three: A Mom's Look at Heart-Oriented Discipline.

The author was a speaker at a MOPS group I attended a few years ago, and after hearing her speak, I immediately bought this book and began implementing its principles. It made a significant difference in my interactions with my children, but somewhere over the past couple of years I stopped applying it. As with most things, I set about it with the best of intentions, but over time, I fell off the wagon and reverted back to my former ways. (Which involve a sad amount of fussing, whining, and loss of self-control. And that's by me, not my kids.)

The gist of this book (which I highly recommend even though I don't agree with 100% of her theology)is that our job as a parent is not merely to manage our children's behaviors but to point them to their need for Christ. That we address the heart issues, not just the outward manifestations of them. She advocates using God's words rather than our own when we reprove (which is not the same as scolding) our chilren because it is the Word of God which will penetrate their hearts and lead them to repentance.

It takes a lot more time and effort to Biblically reprove and train children than it does to simply yell and fuss at them. I know; I have yelled and fussed more than I care to admit. But, I'm finding that the reward is great. This morning I overheard this interaction between my three children who were light-saber fighting in Lauren's room:

[Lots of battle noises going on when Lauren begins crying.]
Josh: Lauren, why are you crying. Ethan, stop. Lauren, did Ethan hurt you?
Lauren: Yes!
Josh: Are you okay? Ethan, you need to tell her you're sorry.
Ethan: Sorry, Lauren.
Josh: Lauren, tell him you forgive him.

And she did, and they went on with their battle. It was so rewarding to hear them handle conflict properly It has been only a week or so since I began taking the time to once again truly train and discipline my children in a Biblical manner instead of my own fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants method. Just like before, the fruits are evident already, not only in how they interact with each other, but in the closeness I share with them.

Ginger Plowman instructs her children that they are to obey "right away, all the way, with a happy heart." We have been working on the same thing, and last night read the story of King Saul and how he failed to obey "all the way" when God told him to destroy the Amalekites. My kids and I had such a meaningful time studying this together, and it was a really powerful tool for illustrating why it is important to submit to God's (and parents') authority.

Of course, we still struggle. I'm sure I will still lose my temper (though it's easier not to when I realize I'm being a hypocrite if I expect my children to have self-control and then I yell at them), but I pray that God will help me to make this a permanent change in how I rear my children.

There was a time last year when I was particularly struggling with my inadequacies as a parent. It is hard, this job of molding and shaping the hearts and minds of our little ones. I was feeling overwhelmed by and woefully inadequate for the task. As I was taking communion in church that week, God showed me the most beautiful picture of filling myself up with Him. I am not capable of doing this job well on my own, but as I ate the bread and drank the wine - symbolizing the body and blood of Christ - I realized that I don't have to be. I can draw on the strength and joy and wisdom of the One Who is. What a gracious gift that we can be filled with His Spirit.

May I always point Joshua's and Ethan's and Lauren's hearts to Christ, the only One who saves.