Yours Truly, a Weary Mom

Make me worthy of their kisses, Father?

The springs on the playroom jean couch, they are broken on one side and I came unglued and yelled about disobedience and lack of respect. They've been told over and over not to jump on the couch.

The master bedroom, which for now houses the only decent computer, was put in shambles by two exuberant boys who were following, via the Internet, a local university's basketball game.

I yelled about childishness and lack of respect and made them clean it up. I also banned them from the room for a week, except for when they do their math CD ROM. They've done this act before, too. They've been warned many a time, and again, consequences were handed out.

I'm feeling so low, but not for the reason you'd think. I don't think I'm a horrible mother--I may yell but I don't cuss or verbally abuse. I'm low because I'm exasperated at having to repeat myself. I'm plum exhausted.

1 Corinthians 3:11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.

We are responsible, my husband and me, through prayer and diligence, for making this scripture come alive in our children's lives. We can't simply yell and then get over it. We have to act and give consequences to force them to leave childhood behind.

For really, a child doesn't want to leave childhood, do they? Childhood is full of the magical and pressures are few. The parent has to nudge and encourage and even push, at appropriate ages.

It's a good work, but it's weary work. And sometimes I'm so weary I yell and stomp, for I see things that simply don't make sense to me. Why make this mess and then just walk out, as though you didn't notice it? Why simply walk out? Did you think I would clean it up for you, and don't you know me well enough by now?

We won't be replacing the couch and whoever sits on the right side will sink down considerably. Eventually, we'll junk it. And maybe that will remind them not to jump on the living room couch and so ruin its springs? It still looks great after nearly eight years, probably because we have a playroom.

It's not about the couch though. There's nothing fancy here and I'm not attached to furniture.

I find this job so very hard, this parenting. It's so hard to stay calm when they do ridiculous things, but at night after I've blown up and they're all asleep, I think about what I accomplished and how it would have sunk in more, had I said it all without shrieking.

When I yell, they're concentrating not on what I'm saying, but on my ugly-looking face and the stress their bodies are feeling at the strife...as I tell them how disappointed I am in their recklessness and selfishness. Most of the things I say are necessary, even if I'm long winded when angry. It's not really what I say, but the theatrics I employ. They're the unfortunate thing.

The days are long and I'm with them alone until 7:00 PM. I'm doing my best.

Seriously, I wish the Holy Spirit would put tape over my mouth. "Be slow to speak and slow to become angry" requires accompanying tape. Lord, may it be so? Will you please put invisible tape over my mouth, so that this scripture is illustrated in my life? I would keep it on until I've walked all around the house and prayed and prayed for the will to say what I have to say, and do what I have to do, without any theatrics.

I think of Jesus' theatrics when his Father's house was being used as a marketplace. He was righteously angry as he turned over tables and gave them a piece of his Holy mind.

Is it okay to employ theatrics when the offense is ridiculous enough, then? And which offenses qualify?

Ephesians 4:26 Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger

Is this the scripture for me tonight? Did I do wrong not in being angry, but in letting them fall asleep while I was still angry? It was a ten-minute anger, but then I was quiet and businesslike afterwards, not kissing or hugging anyone.

When I do wrong, I don't get yelled at. Not by my husband nor my Heavenly Father. My husband never, ever yells. Oh, Father, may I be more like You and him.

Search my heart, Oh Lord. Lend me your strength. Carry me through this task of boys to men, girls to ladies. I believe in my children even when they do ridiculous things. I believe in them because of You. I believe You will make them proper, responsible men and ladies. May I convey that well tomorrow, Lord? Will you convey that through me? Will you make me an instrument of your Grace, as I receive it myself and give thanks for it? May I also extend grace, please?

And, Father? Don't forget the tape?

Yours Truly,
a weary mom