Friday morning, after going to the fourth grade "girl's talk" with the school nurse (very enlightening and filled with giggles), I thought meeting a friend with our 4 year olds at the mall play park seemed like an excellent idea on a dismal and downpouring day. Little did I know the drama that would follow over a pair of socks. My daughter was having a great time climbing in and out of the toy boats and cars and tunnels. Smiles emerged continually after repetitious sliding. She joyfully ran up to me asking if she could take her socks off. My instant response was "No, honey, the floor might be dirty." You'd think I just stuck her with fifty needles and then it happened, what all mothers dread in front and center view of all present audiences. The fit of all fits. Now, I knew my daughter had a will, and most times I sympathize, chuckle slightly and feel relieved that it's not my child looking demon possessed as a parent carries them off kicking and screaming to a land far far away . . .but on this day, it was my child. Over a pair of socks. Her will shone bright as day and dark as night as one moment of happy bliss turned to all heck breaking loose inside this "cute" child of mine. It's in these moments, that you wish you could run away and pretend like you didn't know this little person. And it's in these moments that every eye in, what seems all of a sudden a very crowded place, are staring at you with shakes of the heads and raised eyebrows, knowing it is precisely to you that this child belongs. You learn to not look at anyone, mumble quickly "Yes it is!" to the woman clarifying for you that this is a rough day for you.
The walk out through the corridors and parking lot seem eternally long and you've never felt more grateful for the haven the seat belts of the car seat provide to contain such strong wills in small packages, to put it politely. My hands were shaking and my patience was gone and to remain quiet and pray for God to give me even a remnant of calm was all I could muster. The breathing techniques from childbirth classes came into play again, don't think they can't find a place outside of labor in this wonderful, wild world of parenthood. We had a very stern talk with dad upon arrival at home and after many tears, apologies and punishment, my angelic daughter returned--I'd never missed her so much! Later that night as we were talking, I asked her what prompted this "display of will," and her simple response was still "I just didn't want to wear my socks." Seriously, was that worth it? You wonder as a parent how all sense of logic and rationale find no place in a child's heart.
We prayed together at bedtime, and after such a day, the sincerity in the prayers of my child melt my heart (which still needed a little melting towards her ;) ) as she asked God to help her to be good and thanking him for giving her a mommy that takes care of her and helps her to be good. Maybe, she had learned something from all of this :) She is one of my greatest joys in this life, but at times these greatest joys have to learn that wanting it "my way" and being the boss is not her role in life at this point. Today, I admired her quietly from the doorway as I eavesdropped on her and Baby, Baby, Baby as she was explaining to her about Jesus and how important it was to obey Mommy and Daddy. Her learning the lessons didn't shut down her spirit, but is pruning her character to remain a joy in all circumstances. It made me think about how I handle life when things don't go my way or turn out the way I was hoping. Hopefully,it's not resulting in public (or private) tantrums, but learning to trust that God always prevails and his way is always better than mine!
Isaiah 55:8-9
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
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