What’s in in for me?

I can not believe my ears.  My child actually says the words we adults cover, disguise, veil with statements that rationalize.

A Father’s Day for my husband ~ a working Father’s Day.  A day that God uses to make him earn it… and mom, too.

The selfishness rears it’s ugly head… after church (of all times).  The human plans we make dashed and altered by the One who knows just when we need… what we need.

ALL the other kids have one!

It’s just so hard… I want…

I want, I want, I want… 

I clench my fists, close my eyes… remember the words

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger (Proverbs 15:1)

I glance at my husband.  I see the harsh words boiling behind the angry eyes.  We give them so much!  It’s never enough!  I see him and I know the same line is gripping him… attempting to extinguish the fiery tongue.  This line freshly given to us just an hour before.  So quickly we are expected to put it into practice.  Isn’t the practice for parents ongoing?  Exhausting?  The work on our children is more of a work in us.  This lesson for us as much as for our son.

It would be beautiful to say that no harsh words are spoken… His words taken to heart and put into practice… lesson learned… end of story.  Not so much.  Harsh words are spoken, anger stirs. Parent anger, child anger.  Tears flow.  Hearts hurt.  Spirits wounded.

This time… this one has to be different.  We have to listen.  We want to hear the words of our son.  We want to obey the words of our Father.  This is the best way to teach him, teach him by example.  Deep sigh.  The conversation lasts hours.  The memories of being a child flood back.  Empathy, memories of the emotions, listening ears… these are the things that halt the lash of the tongue.  It is certainly a lesson learned with effort.  We do our share of speaking, knowing that our son is the canvas waiting to be painted.  God’s work of art waiting for the touch of his earthly parents.  We carefully wield the brush.  The paint splatters turn to more refined strokes of the brush.  The softening of the heart doesn’t happen right away.

What’s in it for me?

A homework assignment given.

One kind deed for one person for 7 days.

You can expect nothing in return.

My child, wide-eyed, groans.

Nothing?

My eyes smile in his direction, knowing the reward will be greater than anything I could give him.

Nothing.

We are tired – the three of us.  The meeting of hearts, the draining of energy… strangely fills us.  We are filled with a closeness we can’t put into words.

The assignment taken to heart, my son comes to me,

I’ve thought of my first thing, mama

He shares his selfless offering… the recipients are his sisters.  Mom smiles.

It feels good, doesn’t it?

He grins.

I kind of wish I could get something for it.

I get it.  We want something in return.  It is a difficult practice… this selflessness.  I admit I have not mastered that one.

You will be given more in return than I could ever offer you.

You will be given a heart gift you can’t put into words.

Trustingly, he smiles, shrugs.

By the evening, he has thought of gifts for the next day… then two.

Maybe I’ll do two tomorrow.

My heart bursts.  The lesson begins to take hold.  Maybe I’ll do two tomorrow, too.

 

Philippians 2:3

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.

 

 

You are so lucky!  I hear my kids exclaim during a heated game of (fill in the blank).  You are so lucky… I am so lucky… oh, what luck.

how did I get so lucky?

I always believed in luck.  The luck of the draw, the lucky break, the lucky girl…

and, then, sometimes… not so lucky.  The times that things didn’t quite work out, the outcome was not exactly what I had hoped, the luck had run out.

A gathering of friends… mothers… contemplating this…

does everything happen for a reason?

Is it luck, good fortune, misfortune… perhaps just a misstep… just a blink in the vast plan?  What is the purpose in these, seemingly, insignificant moments?  Do they add up to a greater plan… pieces of an intricate mosaic?  The puzzle of life and the 20,333 pieces that complete it…

it isn’t luck at all…

It has a different name.  A name I had heard for years… but had not not been aware of.  In all my years of marveling at the luck that swirled around… I hadn’t seen it clearly… as it’s true name… blessing.

The blessings of life… a husband, children, love, health, home…

Then, those moments, that make you wonder why you are so unlucky… where is the blessing in these moments?

I see it… the blessing is in the rebirth.  The shedding of skin, to reveal raw faith in need of refining… a character in need of growing.  A mother in need of believing… believing that all the moments are purposed for the great plan… for the molding of these jars of clay.

I look at the small, green plant ~ a representation of so many things to so many people ~ the three petals… I see the three – the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit… this symbol of “luck” ~ a reminder of the blessings in all things… I didn’t get so lucky…

I was blessed

James 1:2-4

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.