My daughter does not like to clean her room. She never has. In fact, unlike me, she seems to like clothes on the floor and stuff everywhere.
Years ago when she was younger, I once again brought up the fact that her room was out of hand, and she needed to spend time cleaning it up. She wasn’t happy. The more we talked (I explained, she debated) the more upset she got, until finally she burst into tears, and cried, “God made me this way, and you should love me messy!”
I assured her of how much I loved her, messy or not…but her room still needed work.
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For years I had the same dream several times a week. I lived in a nice house where life was full and happy. There was only one problem . . . there was always a pet, usually a dog, living in the basement. That in itself was not a problem, I love critters, the problem was that I continually forgot to feed her and let her out.
My neglect always led to feelings of guilt and fear of what I was going to find when I went downstairs to check on her. Finally, tired of waking up feeling like a failure before my day even started, I prayed and pondered – what was this dream trying to tell me.
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One of my Facebook friends left the following post the other day:
My daughter’s school records have the wrong date for her birthday. Now my five year old thinks her school is right, and that I don’t really know when when she was born. – Hello! I was there!
Too funny! As a former Kindergarten teacher, I remember how quickly a five year old can get confused, how often a child believed me over their parents. I used to tell all moms and dads, “I will only believe half of what comes to school; will you will only believe half of what comes home.”
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Though he stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand. Psalm 37:24 NIV
“Spencer! Spencer!” Amy called around the house looking for her son. Hearing stumbling from above, she walked to the stairs. On the top stair was Spencer – seizing. In distress, he had been searching for his mother. He knew she would help him through this storm. Like a dance they rehearsed, each knew their parts – neither chose them. His head drawn, voice gone, and arm jerking; he tried to take a step.
And fell – into the arms of his mother.
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And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52 NIV
Earlier this month, we started talking about what it takes to raise godly men. I shared a little bit about how God captured my heart and gave me the desire to be a boy mom. If you have not had a chance to read it yet, then take a minute to go back and read it (Raising Godly Men, Part 1).
I shared about how to get started if your boys are in preschool and now I want to take a minute to talk about elementary, middle, and high school boys.
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And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52 NIV
From the very first moment I found out that I was pregnant with my first child, I just “knew” that I was going to be a “boy mom.” I don’t know how or why, but I just knew that God knit me together to raise boys. The exciting, adventurous, rowdy days could be a challenge, but the sense of purpose was like a mission for me.
Twenty-two years old, married less than a year and completely overwhelmed with this next stage in my life, I cried out to the Lord and asked Him into my heart.
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It’s true, according to my kids. And looking through their eyes, I have to agree. But what they see as “mean” is really me trying to gain respect and control of my childrens’ behavior, though I’m not as successful as I’d like to be.
My goal is to be firm, but it comes out harsh. Not the best way to change their hearts and get them to do things my way, but it’s so easy to resort to old habits.
Thankfully, God sends little reminders to help me in this area. This came in my inbox the other morning.
Be Firm Without Being Harsh
“Some parents believe that the only way to be firm is to be harsh.
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Written on
July 10, 2010 by
Gina in
Blog
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14
I was a bit surprised by an article I read lately, about a mom who openly admitted she’s bored with her children. And it got me thinking…
Most times, I feel I lack the nurture gene, and yes, I admit I feel like this woman at times. Bored of playing with toys and dolls, aggravated by the never ending kiddie board game, and frustrated by driving my kids all over town.
I’m not one of those moms who loves to play with her children for the simple fact that I’m a type A personality, a Choleric/Melancholy, who sees so much to do around the house that playing a game often feels like wasting time.
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