Friday, September 7, 2012

It's hard not to throw a fit...

The inconsolable crying began when I made the statement, "You HAVE to keep your shoes on when we go to our friend's house."

Now that seems like a benign statement, but it wasn't. It was an all too clear example of me disempowering my child.

Let me back up to let you know how we got here. You see the previous morning it took my child 30 minutes to get his shoes on and tie them. He's five; shoelaces are a new thing for him. Sadly to say, my level of patience for him this previous day was lacking. My tone and decibel level painted a harsh learning environment. When he finally completed his new task, by himself no less, I let out a sigh of relief. Ahh, he finally he did it, we can go.

So this was the second day of him trying to get the new shoes on by himself. God's Grace was present with me and the fruit of the Spirit, Patience, was with me. There were no white knuckles here. There were no outbursts of frustration just good old fashioned victory for the child and mom.

As parents we celebrate these moments, because we know we did best for our child, and we're proud of ourselves for not losing it like a 2 year old. So, running with this theme and wanting to keep my universe happy, I made the statement, "You have to keep your shoes on when we get to our friend's house."

Many of you have been here before. You've seen a pit that you don't want your child to fall into, so you create a boundary for him so he doesn't fall into it. The reality in this case was that I wasn't trying to protect my child, I was trying to protect myself. I didn't want to loose it (especially in front of my friend). I didn't want to look like that out-of-control mom we've all seen before. I certainly didn't want to deal with him losing it either. Hmmm, this sounds familiar, this sounds like that sneaky slimy "little" thing called control.

Because I attempted to control my child for my benefit, I set up a boundary that gave no freedom to my child.  The reality is he is learning something new. Something that's hard to learn, and I effectively punished him for my own fears and insecurities. In short, I was saying, "You can't do what you want to do because it bothers and inconveniences me. And because I'm bigger and more powerful, you have to do it my way. It's my turn to be and feel powerful."

Praise God He gave me the presence of mind in the moment to realize I had stolen something from my child. I had taken his ability to manage this new task away from him and said that he was too small and too unimportant to do it.

I knelt down towards him and held his hands. Locking my eyes with his, I gave him a choice. Holding his soft small hands, I said, "You can either stop playing 30 minutes early to put on your shoes or leave them on your feet."

In what seemed like an instant, peace rushed over my child, and his crying stopped.  In a moment we were no longer dangling off the cliff of anxiety, control, and fear threatening to destroy our relationship.  We were transported underneath the most beautiful waterfall of God's love and never ending peace. I could see the lush green vegetation all around us; a rainbow of God's hope and promise encircling around us. Hope for a lasting relationship with my child.

God gave me a choice in that moment. I'm so glad I chose to move toward my child.

To my surprise he chose to stop playing 30 minutes early. Once again, I was reminded he doesn't think like I think.  We forget the verse says, "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." The key word being he.  This episode of family life was an example of helping him find his way and not necessarily the way I think he should go.

With joy and pleasure he put on his shoes.  A bit quicker too.





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