Tuesday, December 4, 2012

the melted "wrath of Mom"

Ingratitude goes right through me.  Try whipping that up with a side of sass and a displeasing, disrespectful tone of voice, and serving it on a platter to your mother.  When my middle one began crying (real. big. crocodile. tears) for the second day in a row over wanting me to buy her some Littlest Pet Shop toys. And demanding and pleading that I buy them (on eBay of all places!?) NOW.  As in today or yesterday...(despite the fact that we've discussed Christmas only being 3 weeks away, and reminding her the true reason we even celebrate this holy holiday), it was all I could do to contain the "wrath of Mom" from unleashing onto her 7 year old frame!  Through gritted teeth and a struggling hushed voice (the littlest was napping), and a face I'm sure was as bright as a beet, and possible steam exploding from my ears, I sent us both to timeouts.  Distance to calm.  There are moments when our children come to the epiphany that they have pushed mom or dad over the edge One. Too. Many. Times.  Such was the case of my girl today.  Sworn not to leave her bedroom of doom until I returned.  With a mention that it could possibly be for the rest of these daylight hours (or her very life), a repentant heart tried to make right her wrong.  After 10 minutes of letting my blood pressure drop, and inviting Peace in, where it clearly was lacking, a softened-hearted mom returned, sat down on her softened-hearted daughter's bed to find a 7 year old's softened-hearted prayer.  

This here's a keeper (may have to double click to enlarge):
"Dear God, please not make my mom upset and help me with my reaktshins (reactions) and P.S. I'm so sorry. Sorreyer (sorrier) then anything.  My feelings and I want to have a good Christmas.  With others that don't have firncher (furniture) and please make them have food.  And (in fancy letters) make the waether have snow and make it not riany.  And I want to be a good persone to help the pore.  And make our haerts be thankfull to God.  And when we do things fun and when the fun last, people shodint (shouldn't)  pout at all.  And be thankfull to all of our haerts. Allways be thankfull to God.  Allway.  A-A-A-men."

And there in that moment, the winds of Peace blew right through those pink bedroom walls and covered us snug and tight.  And all that pent up "wrath of Mom" melted away.  And was no more.

Grateful for the beauty found in the heart of this girl.  For a God who continues to do His good work in us (Phil 1:6).  Who doesn't leave us in a state of hopeless imperfection and failure.  And, oh how I fail. Who, even when we deserve His wrath, chooses to show us mercy.  I've so far yet to go.  Melt this heart till it takes the form of Yours.  Lord, do Your work. 

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