When I lost my cool and nearly cut my finger because the kids were crying and asking what I was doing, what’s that, what does this do, oops I spilled… I grit my teeth.
I wanted to say Go Away. Leave me alone.
Suddenly, I became the mother I did not want to be.
There is no other job in the world that leaves you feeling so humbled, so scrutinized.
Yet I am learning, that it’s all right to kneel on the floor mid-day and ask for grace. That it’s okay to cry out to God for the patience I do not have.
I started to pray aloud with the children each morning. I wasn’t being holy- I was desperate. My temper was getting short- an unreasonable series of tragedies and challenges had tsunamied together.
“Oh Lord,” I’d pray aloud with my children, “Please grant SF and EP joy and peace, and Mama lots of patience and grace.”
My children would giggle obliviously and shout, “AMEN!”
Recently, we were walking to the playground when my firstborn shared with me how her piano recital went. (Yes, I know- a piano recital for a four year-old?!)
“Mama, I picked the song ‘Jesus loves me’.”
“You what?” I stopped in my tracks, stunned.
‘Tayo, the Little Bus’ was hands-down her favorite song.
“Yes, Mama, Jesus was happy.” She cupped her hands and whispered, “He told me in my heart, ‘Thank you Sarah-Faith!’ “
Tears dammed behind my eyes as I witnessed a precious moment- a child aware of her Father’s voice, in spite of my poor witness at times.
“WOW,” I said. “MAMA IS SO PROUD! You are amazing!”
To which, she replied in perfect mimicry to me, “MAMA, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU TOO- YOU WERE VERY PATIENT TODAY!”
I wasn’t sure to laugh or to cry. She looked up at me with a wink and thumbs up.
How does this child choose to love me through and after my most unloveable moments?
While people say how parental love is a reflection of God’s love for us, I can’t help but feel at times, that His love is mirrored in that fierce, uncalculated love of our children’s love for us- broken parents, too.
