Being Held Accountable

Sometimes when I write a post, I have to ask myself, do I really want to share this?

Because if I do, I will be held accountable.

Before my husband, my children, my family, my friends, the world.

Before God.

Do I really want that?

When I write this about loving my husband, he could bring it up sometime when I'm not loving him.

He doesn't, because he's not like that.  

But he could.

Or when my kids are older and they read the things I wrote about loving them, and being with them, will they say, "that's not the mom I remember."

Do I really mean it when I say,"I wouldn't trade it for more time to myself, more quiet, more money or more freedom.  I wouldn't trade it for less mess, less laundry, less bickering, less whining or less work."  (it being having 4 kids)

William has been especially challenging this week.  

I would go so far as to say, exceptionally challenging.

And Tuesday, the day I published that post, was the worst day by far.

As the day progressed, growing worse and worse, I thought how ironic it was that only that morning I had posted those sweet pictures and memories of my kids wrestling on the bed.

We were all laughing together and it was just picture perfect familial bliss.

Ha!

All I heard myself saying that day was, "William, settle down.  William, stop yelling.  William, stop being so crazy.  William, go outside and run some laps.  William, don't pester your sister.  William, leave James alone.  William, stop whining.  William!  William!  William!"

I knew I was riding him too hard, but it honestly felt like he was causing some sort of problem every moment. 

"A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs15:1

I know that this verse is so important to put into practice as I parent, especially with my William, but I ignored it.

By 4 pm we were both spent.

I could hardly stand being around him.

He was beaten down by my constant pestering.

I know, I knew, he only wanted attention. 

And gosh darn if I wasn't going to give him good attention, well, then, he'd show me.  

He'd just drive me crazy!

It was working.

If I had just stopped and held him, if I had listened to the words I wrote here, I could have salvaged the day and made a positive impact on my son's heart instead of a negative one.

But in my frustration, my anger, my "poor me" attitude, I carried on.

The divide between us grew wider.

As I was busy with some task or another, Davy began fussing from where he was laying on the couch.

Without being asked, told or prompted, William came to the aid of his little brother.

I could hear him talking to Davy in a soothing voice.

"Did you loose your paci, Davy? Here you go.  Do you want Bubba to stay with you?  I'll stay with you Davy.  It's OK.  I'm here."

My heart melted.

All the things I should have been saying to William, he was saying to his brother.

I could have loved him in his bad attitude, his pestering, his crankiness, through all the things he was doing that annoyed me.

I could have loved him like God loves me.

Through my very worst moments, hours, days, years, God loves me.

I checked on the two of them a few minutes later.

They were both sound asleep.

William was tired.

He needed a nap.

He needed to be held, loved and he even needed to be needed.

I, the adult, failed to give that to him, but he found what he needed in the form of his baby brother.

The two of them slept together for hours.

William held Davy's little hand in his.

As I watched them sleeping together, I was reminded afresh of God's steadfast love for me.
What a picture, the two of them.
William comforting his weak, helpless brother, the way my Saviour comforts me in my own weak moments.
William offering love even when it had not been offered to him.

Over and over again, parenting has shown me how great is the love of my Heavenly Father.

He is the parent I can never be.

I will fail.

I will seek forgiveness.

I will start again.

And I will pray for His grace to permeate my heart and our home.

The kind of grace that my William showed me.

I won't complain about the good days.
Those days of laughter, smiles, grand adventures and quiet moments are the stuff of memories.
But the hard days are good too.
They are the days that teach me much about myself, my kids and my walk with God.
For all of it, I am grateful.


Love from,
Greta

PS.  I have just begun reading this book, Give Them Grace, and it is truly wonderful.  It is thought provoking and challenging.  I am sure the reflection of this day was brought on in some ways by the thoughts stirred up in this book.  I am looking forward to sharing more with you as I read more.
Thank you Kimm for sharing it with me!