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For set up sake.
We let the kids go to kid only pool time last night. We figured this is a good way for them to meet some friends for school. What nice parents we are. We even let them stay there until 9 pm. Of course they were the first to be picked. O well.
Everyone is home. Kids are changed into pj's when all the drama begins. I knew it would happen. It happens every time they pass the window of their normal bedtime (8:30). All of a sudden they are afraid of everything. They are going to throw-up. They start the ugly cry. When I say they I really mean her. Poor thing.
By this time we feel like complete crazies. We ourselves are tired. We do not want to deal with drama. We just want you to go to bed.
The night in this home gets ugly. There are strong words shared. I don't mean shared in a nice way either. Carly spouts off that "we are the meanest parents ever" and "we don't even love her" all because we are making her lay down in bed instead of sleeping next to the toilet all night (in case of throwing up).
This is where the exchange happens.
At the point of her ugly words (she is 10 and kind of hormonal so give her a break) I would usually spout of go to bed in frustration and leave the room for her to cry her heart out. She would be hurt. I would be hurt.
Tonight as I listened to this go down something different rose up within me. I thought about how I have been spouting those same HARSH statements to God. Because of this, this, and that, "You must not even love me…", or "You must love her more"… and so on. It is true that I have been battling some things out with God. He knows my heart.
As I thought of my own raging battle I also thought of the way He deals with me. The way I should deal with her.
Carly, I love you even if you do not want to hear that right now. I know that you know I love you. I know you don't believe that we are the worst parents ever. I know that you do not mean what you said about wishing you were never born (Yes, she said this too). I forgive your for saying these hurtful words. I am not mad at you. Not one bit. I only love you.
She calms and lays her head on the pillow.
Mom, will you pray with me? (in a soft tone and tears streaming)
Amen.
::
Are you battling right now? Bring your stuff to Him. He is big enough. His love is bigger and contains more grace than our little minds could begin to conceive.
(Your name), Know that I love you. Know I made you special. I gave you specific dreams. I cherish your laugh. I enjoy your words. I know you love me. I know your heart. I love you, not in spite of who you are but because of who you are. I am here. Always.
He is good. Actually, Better than good.
8:53 PM
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