little boxes...

Grandmothers, please don't kill me for this one. You aren't going to like it very much, I'm afraid. I'm sorry!!!

Yesterday, as we were about to go out and play in the snow, Bug couldn't find either pair of his new gloves that he had told me were in his top drawer. Upon searching his room high and low with no gloves in sight, I came to his toy boxes. I thought it was possible he had crammed them in there in an attempt to clean up quickly, so I had a look. There were no gloves, but I was correct to assume he had been cramming to clean quickly. He had crammed, and lots. Mostly garbage. I can't tell you what it was that made me so mad about seeing that, but I can admit that yes, for a minute, I forgot that this child is only seven years old, and I did what I never do, what I make it a point to never do. I yelled at Bug, with bulging eyes and a tone full of frustration. And the completely shocked look on his face when I did would have killed me right then and there, had I not still been rambling to myself and sorting through the mess. He asked if I wanted help and I told him no, to please go sit down. I pouted that I was cleaning garbage out of boxes for toys instead of out in the snow with Sugarplum Fairy and futureSquid and had a "mothering is a thankless job" moment. I was overdramatic and feeling sorry for myself. But the truth is, although the toy boxes stuffed with junk weren't a pretty sight, I was the one putting the stress on myself, and on my son. We could have handled them later, or I could have made him do some of the unpleasant work since he'd made the unpleasant mess.  I was just so consumed with getting it all straightened out that I wasn't thinking clearly. It didn't take long for the outburst to catch up with me, though- it rarely does, especially where my babies are concerned. I came into the living room and apologized to Bug for yelling. I know that may seem controversial to some parents, but futureSquid and I always apologize to the kiddos when we've been wrong. It's never seemed to undermine our authority, and I'd never want to give Bug or Sugarplum Fairy the idea that we think we're always right, or that we don't often need God's grace ourselves. He seemed fine, said he was actually relieved to have his "secret" out, but I still wasn't at ease. Later, with both kiddos tucked in bed, prayed for and kissed, futureSquid pulled out our devotional. I didn't know what the subject would be, but I was certain that it was going to be something that would end up adding to my guilt, and I was right. But the thing about guilt is, sometimes it's founded. Sometimes guilt can work as negative reinforcement, remind you to turn on your heel and go a different path. The devotional was about teaching our children about God's love through the way we show love and tenderness to them. Ouch. I don't recall the last time I'd felt God's wrath due to carelessness, and I'm an adult. And I had been the antithesis of tender. How did Bug deserve such anger? He didn't, of course. Earlier I had apologized for being wrong, but now I was worried about potential damage done to his confidence in how very, very much I love him. Truly, I never get that way with him, so if he felt doubtful, could I blame him? All this swirled around in my head. Poor Bug. Teary-eyed, I stopped FS mid-reading and went to his door. Once I was sure he was still awake, I walked to his bed.

"Bug?"
"Yeah Mommy? What's wrong?"
"You know I love you, right?"
"Of course I know that! I always know that."
"Even on a day like today when I yell and seem very angry, you still know?"
"Yeah! *laugh* How would that make me think you didn't love me?"

He amazes me. He had it wide open to make me feel terrible, milk it, or even just be seven and maybe really genuinely feel less loved when I lost my cool with him. Instead, he sat there with giant blue eyes and smiled at me like I was silly for even asking.  If we're being honest here, and since I'm sharing my embarassing and unnecessary yelling episode, I'm apparently into being honest, I don't always grasp that concept myself- I forget in my day to day that "being good" has nothing to do with why God loves me. It's a product of my own negative self-talk, and has nothing to do with the loving, long-suffering God who has proven Himself steadfast time and time again. I get down on myself when I mess up, and not always in the productive way, the "do better next time" way. Twenty-six and I forget, and yet Bug understood that he could make a mistake, and that I could be even angry with him, and it had positively no bearing on my unconditional love for him. He understood better than I do at times that those two things were entirely seperate subjects.

I doubt the day will ever come that I can say I've taught my son more about God's love than he's taught me.


There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. 1 John 4:18