My Ella is six years old.

Nearly every night she asks to listen to the Bible as she falls asleep. Her favorite story, currently, is the story of Queen Esther. When I’m with her and she listens to it, we pause here and there so I explain things to her (what’s a signet ring? What’s a decree?). Since Esther is at the forefront of my little ones mind right now, I decided to buy the movie, One Night With The King. Just another medium from which to grasp the story.

I have been observing that when I give her the access (iphone audio bible, movie) to God’s Word in a way that best suits her, she feasts on it.

And God fills the gaps and He is so good and so gracious.

I have not been diligent about tucking the Word into my children’s hearts. I don’t make them memorize scripture and I haven’t been reading it to them as much I want. Yet He finds a way. He hears my prayers. I cuddle up with my babies and I think how I haven’t done enough, and I pray that He would get a hold of their hearts, and that they would follow after Him with all of who they are and for all of their lives. I ask that where I fall short, would He fill the gaps.

It is not excuse for me to falter as I do, but He is so kind to me and my children, and He is faithful even when I’m not.

He is reaching my Ella’s heart through His story, and she brings me in and we have wonderful talks about God and His people and His story…and we tuck His Word into our hearts together. Her joy of His story pushes me to get back on track, and to remember to be intentional with filling their spirits with what truly gives them life.

How do you serve your children His life-giving Word?

I went to the gym today so I could shower.

(a mama’s got to do what a mama’s…you know.)

My babes like playing in the kid zone at the gym where I work out, but today I didn’t feel like working out, I just wanted an uninterrupted shower. I got one, and then I got ready for my day and I came to sit in the lobby of my gym for a few moments before picking my kiddos up. As I was sitting there, I saw a man in his 50’s who had a clear mental disability. He was with a woman who was his guide/helper. The man went over to a vending machine and asked for a drink. The woman replied that she didn’t have any money, and all of a sudden the man started screaming. I nearly fell out of my chair out of surprise. It was loud! He was having a tantrum. And all of a sudden I had a revelation.

That man couldn’t help having a tantrum, he wasn’t completely in control of his mental faculties. He was responding as though a little child would.

How a child would.

Oh my goodness, how a child would!

Of course children have tantrums and act crazy sometimes, they are just doing what their little sin natures know to do! Sure, we could beat it out of them, just like that woman could have hit that man to get him to be quiet, but that wouldn’t really be fair or kind or respectful, would it? When the man yelled, the woman gently led him outside to talk with him (from what I could tell).

When my children yell or whine or have a tantrum or don’t obey very well, I want to remember that they don’t always know how to respond correctly, and that it takes time, a ton of time, to teach and train them. I need to be patient and compassionate as they mature, which takes years.

When I was going through a really difficult time with my Caroline disobeying, Sally said to me, “I really think if she could obey you she would.” Sally was right, my little girl wasn’t getting it, she was two and she just wanted to be with me, not go to bed. I expected her to obey immediately and perfectly. What an unrealistic and even cruel expectation. Not even God requires that of me.

I want to guide and teach my babies how to be in-control of their emotions. I want to teach them how to better express themselves. I want to prepare them for how to respond when life doesn’t go their way.

I want to remember that they are not adults.

And even if they were, how many of us have it totally together? How many of us still struggle with complaining or yelling or getting crabby when we don’t get our way? How should we be treated when we act in these ungodly ways?

I would want somebody to help me, to be on my team, to support me as I grow and mature and change.

So you know what? I’m going to be that person for my children. I’m going to be cheering them on, teaching them, leading them, and helping them as they navigate their emotions. I’m going to point them to Jesus, and encourage them to take on His ways, His humble ways.

I’m going to remember the man and the vending machine. And I’m going to remember that my children are maturing just one day at a time…just like their mama, who needs all the grace she can get.

 “Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.” Luke 6:31

I went to the grocery store to pick up a movie and as I was walking in I heard a dad yelling at his kids in the backseat. “You’re dead when we get home! You don’t F___ing do that…”

I felt a mix of sadness and anger. I wanted to go to the man and say, “how dare you speak to your children like that? They are children, they deserve kindess and respect. They are not trash, but you’re treating them like they are.”

I went in the store holding back my tears, and came out and started crying in my car. I hate when parents treat their children like dirt; when they talk to them as though they are worthless.

They are not worthless.

Your children are precious to God, and they are growing and becoming and the word arrows you throw wound deep. Please stop.

I know what it feels like to get shot and let me tell you what it does to a child. It makes their insides tighten up and they feel sick, and they feel confused, and their stomach is in knots. They feel like they have to tip toe around you and not make you mad. It’s a terrible way to live, always feeling nervous and tense.

Children need gentleness and affirmation and welcoming arms. They need your grace.

If you struggle with speaking harshly to your children, or yelling at them too much, or you find yourself losing control when you get angry, please get on your knees and choose to change. Be willing to let God change you. Be vulnerable, and don’t give up when the change doesn’t happen immediately. Ask your children to forgive you, and tell them you are a mess and Jesus is working to make you beautiful. Be honest with them, give them the respect that you would want. And above all, don’t get discouraged that you will never change – that is lie straight from the enemy. You can change, you do have control over your anger, and the Holy Spirit will help you if you ask.

Persevere.

I’ll be right there with you, persevering, practicing my tone and daily leaning into the throne of grace for help.

“Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” Proverbs 12:18 NIV

Love, SM

“Let a man regard us in this manner, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God…it is a very small thing that I may be examined by you, or by any human court; in fact, I do not even examine myself. For I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not by this acquitted; but the one who examines me is the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 4:1-4 NASB

We were sifting through coats at Target when I saw it, the cutest, most sophisticated little girl coat. I smiled. “Elle, look at this one, isn’t this great! Oh, this is just so cute.” She looked at, half-smiled, and then pointed to the one with the shiny fabric and fur-trim. She liked that one? It was so…gaudy. I had images in my mind of Mary Jane shoes and perfectly pressed pea coats. Faux fur must have been dancing around in her head.

This time, I half-smiled. “Are you sure you don’t like this one?” I strongly hinted while practically petting it. Quietly she said, “Yes mommy, that one.”

Immediately that gut-punch feeling took over.

I had pressured her into the one I wanted her to have, and she, wanting to please me, went along with it. I sighed. She thinks liking what I like will please me, and so far, that’s exactly what I was showing her. And it was exactly false.

The truth is, I love her over the moon and back and if faux fur is her thing, than great! Who cares?! Bring on the faux fur!

I am learning how to pull back my strong opinion and instead nurture her as she develops her own tastes. I want her to have the freedom to be who she is, and know that I love her regardless. I want her know that pleasing me does not have take priority over who God made her to be. She is uniquely woven and beautiful, and although I will guide her when necessary, I don’t want her to change for me. I am servant of God, just trying to find my way and figure out who I am through Him. I just want to be and walk in faith as He leads and as He has crafted me. And I want the same for her.

It is a small thing what I think of her.

What matters is what her God thinks of her. She needs to concern herself with His ways and walk in how He crafted her. I’m here to help, offer grace through the journey, love her unconditionally, and teach her to know His way.

But she walks it out.

We all do.

We all must choose to walk by faith, pleasing the only judge, or we walk in fear of what others think of us. I’m choosing faith.

And I’m praying hard that that little faux fur loving girl of mine chooses it is as well.

“The fear of man brings a snare, But he who trusts in the Lord will be exalted.” Proverbs 29:25 NASB

Love, SM

“Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:16

She wiggles her toes into the “comfiest place on earth” (between my knees) and we cozy up to each other to talk about the day.

We giggle and chat and I ask her questions. I feel a prodding in my spirit, so I ask, “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

She hesitates.

“No, mommy.”

But I can tell there is something. So I dig gently.

“Baby, you know mama is on your team, right? Nothing you could ever say will make me love you any less. You are safe with me.”

She looks at me with large eyes, unsure if what I’m saying is true.

“There is something, but I’m afraid to tell you.”

“Darling, I will never discipline you for confessing to me or telling me something you need to be free of. I want you to trust me. I’m here for you, okay? You can tell me.”

I can see it. Shame. She sits up, covers her face, and just keeps repeating, “I’m so scared you’re going to be mad at me.”

She’s six, and my comforting words barely break through her fear. Her unfounded fear. I am wide open to be arms of grace, but she balls up and covers her nervousness between giggles and sad eyes.

I take her hand and tell her again that I’m on her side.

She speaks into the pillow that is over her face. She tells me her secret. And then,

she cries.

And I hold her and I tell her how much I love her. I tell her that I did the same thing when I was her age, and she uncovers her face and looks at me with surprise. “You did?!” “Yep. And I didn’t like it either.”

Confession is good for the spirit. We smile and hold each other in grace. We pray. We kick shame out the door.

I’m her mama, and He’s our Father, and shame is not invited into our family. 

We cozy up again to giggle and chat some more.

We are unveiled, and we are

free.

 “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18