We have our fair share of scuffles… but usually nothing that the Crooked-Mom-Eye look won’t stop. And it is fairly rare that one of our children just downright disobeys. But it happens. Or… it happened. This weekend. Somehow… I was able to keep my cool.
Over the years I have learned that it is most effective to let them stew and wonder what I’m thinking… but really, my heart was broken. Not necessarily about what was done… but about the lie that followed. I suppose that over the years I have also learned that a flash of anger is easier to set aside than lingering disappointment. So I sat in the living room and waited it out. I sat, with my broken heart… while he was in his room doing who knows what. And then I sat some more… until I couldn’t stand it for another minute.
He was tucked under his blanket in his bed, reading. Sitting myself down on the side of his bed, I sighed. He curled around and sat looking at me… with red-rimmed eyes that looked ready to spill. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me? And in that moment I was thankful for the misstep. Thankful… for the chance to remind him that I will always forgive him. Thankful... for the love that God placed in my heart and the certainty in knowing that there isn’t a thing in this world that either of my children could do that would stop me from loving them. Thankful… that my son, closer now to thirteen than twelve, could throw himself into my arms and hang on...letting relief wash over him.
I am hopeful... that it will be a long while before we sit in disappointment again and that the lesson has been learned. But God does have a way of working good into the bad, and since I am trying to see the brighter side, I will say that I surely love seeing His work.