Pride

I took them to the dentist today and they were absolute angels. No tears, no fussing, no cavities. Just a couple of little cherubs - the perfect specimens of good dental hygiene and behavior. They bounced to the car with prizes in their pockets, suckers in their hands, and a happy momma leading the way.

And then we went to the store.

The big one needed new tap shoes. The little one entertained herself by pilfering through as many shoes boxes as she could get her sticky little hands on while I slid shoes off and on her sister’s feet.

Minute by minute, their depravity began to shine.

And so did mine.

We made our way to the registers. Only one lane was open. The line was long. And in about three seconds flat she spotted a bag of M&Ms and I knew it would be a pure miracle if we made it out of the store without a meltdown.

“I want dat. Can I have it?”

“No ma’am. You just had a sucker. We are not buying any treats today.”

“But I want a treat. I WANT DAT.”

I braced myself for it and used the tactic of every mother of a tantrum throwing toddler.

I ignored her.

She didn’t care.

I absolutely cared. But I stood my ground.

The man behind me attempted to intervene. A stranger who assumed there must be a way to reason with my strong willed and determined toddler.

Bless his heart.

I knew exactly how to prevent it. Buy her the candy. But I’d already told her no, and as her trail of tears and hollers followed us out of the store, I began to wonder what people must think of me.

Pride.

The original sin in its basic form.

The root of all my parenting failures.

Because I just want my girls to be well behaved. All the time. Especially in public.

Believe it or not, they just won’t constantly comply.

It’s like they have their own little sin nature that also doesn’t naturally bend to obedience and is pumped and primed by selfishness.

Quite similar to mine.

And in these moments (which seem to always happen at the store), it is so very easy for me to lose my cool because, well, I care about my image.

There, I said it.

I want others to think I’m an excellent mom. And that I have this mothering gig down to an art. And when my precious, highly intelligent, and fiercely independent children disprove those theories, it ruffles alllll my feathers.

“Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.”
Joel 2:13

I have a lot of learning to do, and I’m sure I’ll spend the next many years doing it in the refiner’s fire… where I’ve been hanging out for quite some time. But what I’m learning is that while my children are to be held accountable for their actions, and I am accountable for my responses.

Lord, help me to be extra compassionate. Extremely slow to anger. Abounding in love.

Help me parent my girls with the same gentle and tender spirit you always use with me.