busted watermelon...
I heard a heavy object hit the floor behind me. Turning my head, I watched a ripe watermelon, split open down the middle, roll across the kitchen floor leaving behind a trail of bright, red juice. The smell of watermelon filled the space and I was thankful that it hadn't shattered into a million pieces when it found its way from the counter top to the tile.
The room was silent.
I looked across the room, square into the wide, blue eyes of my two year old. Moments ago I had positioned her on that very counter top, just like I do every evening in an attempt to prepare a somewhat timely dinner. I've found that it's the only way I can cook and keep an eye on her at the same time. It's not ideal, and it doesn't make dinner prep very easy, but a momma's gotta do what a momma's gotta do. She knows the rules. She's well aware of how things are to be done on the counter top.
I turned back around to assess the watermelon situation once again and I could feel my anger rising. The frustrations of a difficult day were mounting and this incident threatened to push me over the edge. Aaron had called minutes before, giving a heads up that he was on his way home and I was more than ready for my cavalry to arrive. It had been one of "those days." She and I had been having a series of "those moments." I had asked her not to touch anything. To sit still and give me 5 seconds so I could prep a cookie sheet to go in the oven. I wasn't just preparing dinner for my family but for another family as well and I was working against the clock. I didn't have time to deal with the busted watermelon, and I had given her specific instructions... none of which included knocking a watermelon onto the kitchen floor.
I raised my eyebrows but I didn't say a word... out loud, that is. But I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell and say a lot of words. I didn't want to just lash out verbally but physically, too. I wanted to overreact. To act in a way that would later require repentance. All of my buttons had been pushed by this point, and she knew.
"It was an accident... I fink... I fink it was an accident."
But I didn't think it was an accident. I think it was an intentional act, however, I couldn't prove it because I didn't see it. And she knew I didn't see it. All I had was her testimony. So what was I to do? Because it wouldn't be fair to discipline her for something that really was an accident. And it wouldn't be just to withhold discipline if it wasn't an accident. We had no witnesses and a toddler who wasn't sure if it an accident or not, and so I grabbed a handful of paper towels, bent down on the floor, and I began wiping up watermelon juice as tears fell from my eyes.
He walked in and gave me a big hug and she quickly updated her father on the situation. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't that big of a deal. But after the day we had, it was like pouring salt into an open wound. I mean, really, how rude - right? How dare she disrespect me that way? Who does she think she is, knocking watermelons on the ground like the owns this place? She deserves to get it. She deserves whatever I dole out. She needs to learn a lesson and I'm going to make sure she does.
Except that I didn't. I just cleaned up the mess and I said, "Annabeth, we do not knock watermelons in the floor. That makes mommy very upset when you do that. Please don't do that again, and if you do, you will get in trouble (which is how I let her know that there will be negative consequences to her actions.)"
"Okay, Mommy. I won't do that."
I finished dinner, we ate, I made my delivery on time, and a few days later as the thought came back to mind, the Lord began showing me how he was using a busted watermelon to answer my prayers.
I spend all of my time with you and Madelyn, Annabeth. I mean all of it. I get a break when you two sleep (sort of), when we go to church, and then the occasions when family entertains you for a bit so I can accomplish a thing or two. Other than that, we spend every waking moment together, and I am fully aware of how much I am being watched... and listened to... and mimicked. I hear things coming out of your mouth that came right out of mine. I watch you do things the way I do them. And I am always praying, "Lord, help me to be an example to my girls. Show me how to love them, discipline them, teach them, and how to lead them to you. Help me to be the mother they need."
I've heard many people say things like, "God gave you those children because he knew they needed you to be their mother." And I believe that. But I also believe that God gave me me you and your sister because He knew I needed you. No other children could humble me and refine me better than you both. God knew I needed you to stretch and challenge me. To cause me to lean on Him more. To seek Him more. And to trust Him more.
You and Madelyn are the answers to my daily prayers. You're the ones God is going to use to reveal to me how to love, discipline, and teach you. You are the children God will use to mold me into the mother you need me to be. And the moments where I feel spent, those are the moments it's happening. Those are the moments where He's teaching me, molding me, and using me. I learn from the fun, simple, compliant moments, but the nitty, gritty, tough ones - that's where the I'm challenged to pull up a seat, open my eyes and ears, take notes, and the put into practice what I've learned. Those moments grow me. Those moments change me. And those moments give me a deeper glimpse into God's love for me.
The Lord disciplines those He loves. He lavishes them in grace, too. And I'm trying to find that balance, Annabeth. To show you grace because you need it just as much as I do. I'm your mom, and although you can't discipline me, there are many moments I'll need grace from you. I won't be the only one, either. You'll have many moments in life when you want to scream. Moments that you feel challenged and pushed and you're pretty sure all of your buttons are being pressed on purpose. Moments when your flesh tells you to lash out in an ungodly way. And in those moments, choose grace. Even if grace isn't warranted, you'll never regret showing it. Because grace is exactly that - giving someone what they don't deserve. And those moments of grace have an amazing way of changing hearts and turning them more and more into hearts that like of Christ. Hearts that reveal the gospel and point others to God. Lessons will be learned, lives will be changed, and God will be glorified.
The room was silent.
I looked across the room, square into the wide, blue eyes of my two year old. Moments ago I had positioned her on that very counter top, just like I do every evening in an attempt to prepare a somewhat timely dinner. I've found that it's the only way I can cook and keep an eye on her at the same time. It's not ideal, and it doesn't make dinner prep very easy, but a momma's gotta do what a momma's gotta do. She knows the rules. She's well aware of how things are to be done on the counter top.
I turned back around to assess the watermelon situation once again and I could feel my anger rising. The frustrations of a difficult day were mounting and this incident threatened to push me over the edge. Aaron had called minutes before, giving a heads up that he was on his way home and I was more than ready for my cavalry to arrive. It had been one of "those days." She and I had been having a series of "those moments." I had asked her not to touch anything. To sit still and give me 5 seconds so I could prep a cookie sheet to go in the oven. I wasn't just preparing dinner for my family but for another family as well and I was working against the clock. I didn't have time to deal with the busted watermelon, and I had given her specific instructions... none of which included knocking a watermelon onto the kitchen floor.
I raised my eyebrows but I didn't say a word... out loud, that is. But I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell and say a lot of words. I didn't want to just lash out verbally but physically, too. I wanted to overreact. To act in a way that would later require repentance. All of my buttons had been pushed by this point, and she knew.
"It was an accident... I fink... I fink it was an accident."
But I didn't think it was an accident. I think it was an intentional act, however, I couldn't prove it because I didn't see it. And she knew I didn't see it. All I had was her testimony. So what was I to do? Because it wouldn't be fair to discipline her for something that really was an accident. And it wouldn't be just to withhold discipline if it wasn't an accident. We had no witnesses and a toddler who wasn't sure if it an accident or not, and so I grabbed a handful of paper towels, bent down on the floor, and I began wiping up watermelon juice as tears fell from my eyes.
He walked in and gave me a big hug and she quickly updated her father on the situation. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't that big of a deal. But after the day we had, it was like pouring salt into an open wound. I mean, really, how rude - right? How dare she disrespect me that way? Who does she think she is, knocking watermelons on the ground like the owns this place? She deserves to get it. She deserves whatever I dole out. She needs to learn a lesson and I'm going to make sure she does.
Except that I didn't. I just cleaned up the mess and I said, "Annabeth, we do not knock watermelons in the floor. That makes mommy very upset when you do that. Please don't do that again, and if you do, you will get in trouble (which is how I let her know that there will be negative consequences to her actions.)"
"Okay, Mommy. I won't do that."
I finished dinner, we ate, I made my delivery on time, and a few days later as the thought came back to mind, the Lord began showing me how he was using a busted watermelon to answer my prayers.
I spend all of my time with you and Madelyn, Annabeth. I mean all of it. I get a break when you two sleep (sort of), when we go to church, and then the occasions when family entertains you for a bit so I can accomplish a thing or two. Other than that, we spend every waking moment together, and I am fully aware of how much I am being watched... and listened to... and mimicked. I hear things coming out of your mouth that came right out of mine. I watch you do things the way I do them. And I am always praying, "Lord, help me to be an example to my girls. Show me how to love them, discipline them, teach them, and how to lead them to you. Help me to be the mother they need."
I've heard many people say things like, "God gave you those children because he knew they needed you to be their mother." And I believe that. But I also believe that God gave me me you and your sister because He knew I needed you. No other children could humble me and refine me better than you both. God knew I needed you to stretch and challenge me. To cause me to lean on Him more. To seek Him more. And to trust Him more.
You and Madelyn are the answers to my daily prayers. You're the ones God is going to use to reveal to me how to love, discipline, and teach you. You are the children God will use to mold me into the mother you need me to be. And the moments where I feel spent, those are the moments it's happening. Those are the moments where He's teaching me, molding me, and using me. I learn from the fun, simple, compliant moments, but the nitty, gritty, tough ones - that's where the I'm challenged to pull up a seat, open my eyes and ears, take notes, and the put into practice what I've learned. Those moments grow me. Those moments change me. And those moments give me a deeper glimpse into God's love for me.
The Lord disciplines those He loves. He lavishes them in grace, too. And I'm trying to find that balance, Annabeth. To show you grace because you need it just as much as I do. I'm your mom, and although you can't discipline me, there are many moments I'll need grace from you. I won't be the only one, either. You'll have many moments in life when you want to scream. Moments that you feel challenged and pushed and you're pretty sure all of your buttons are being pressed on purpose. Moments when your flesh tells you to lash out in an ungodly way. And in those moments, choose grace. Even if grace isn't warranted, you'll never regret showing it. Because grace is exactly that - giving someone what they don't deserve. And those moments of grace have an amazing way of changing hearts and turning them more and more into hearts that like of Christ. Hearts that reveal the gospel and point others to God. Lessons will be learned, lives will be changed, and God will be glorified.
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