We started our Monday with happy faces. The sun was shining, the weather was going to be beautiful, and I was feeling ready to tackle my list of Monday to-do’s; groceries being the first on that list. Penny was being particularly sweet that morning and when she asked if she could walk instead of ride in the cart I decided that I would allow her that freedom (moms, feel free to laugh now). It didn’t take more than two aisles for her to realize how fun it was to run freely and not stop when mama said “stop”. Long story short, she lost her privilege and I spent the next 10 minutes with a screaming, hysterical toddler thriving in the cart and a lot of unwanted attention from our fellow shoppers. I got to practice my poker face while we paraded around the produce and I secretly wanted to lose it.
We managed to make it to the end, but by the time we got to the parking lot I wanted the day to be over. My patience was gone, I wasn’t feeling too fond of my children, and I still had to go home and unload the dang groceries! I put on one of my favorite worship songs for the drive home in hopes of lifting my spirits and re-gaining perspective. It was during that time that I was convicted on how harsh I can be when my children are misbehaving. You see, it’s SUPER easy to love and cherish my children when they are being sweet and obedient. My sin and desperate need for Christ is quickly exposed when my child is screaming at the top of her lungs. I tend to focus on how I’m failing or how my children are failing to meet my expectations when one of them is acting out. Instead, I want to see these instances as an opportunity to become more like Jesus. To love my children through their fits and to not let their attitude (and my lack of control) affect my joy. I’m a major work in progress, but I’m thankful that the Lord can turn tantrums into grace-filled lessons.
So we took naps and headed out into the sun to press the “re-start” button. We took our time and stopped to pick “lions” (dandelions). Penny ran freely through the field like she so badly wanted to do earlier that morning.
She has no idea how much she teaches and shapes me. She exposes the worst parts of me, the parts that I don’t like to acknowledge, she’s slowly but surely teaching me how to let go of my need to control every minute of the day, and she teaches me to delight in the simplicity of rolling through a field and singing to the flowers.
God knew exactly what He was doing when He gave me a wildflower. I love her so.