Under Control

I realized that I have hit a snag in my parenting lately, resorting too quickly to using a harsh tone, snipping at the kids, not making efforts to plan fun things for them like I used to. I didn't come to this realization until my husband left town for 8 days, leaving us on our own.

Spending time in 2 Corinthians, I came across this verse: "For the love of Christ controls us, having concluded this, that one died for all, therefore all died;" (2 Cor. 5:14). I stopped at the first phrase: "For the love of Christ controls us".

Lately, I have been controlled more by my schedule and the push to work more hours, keep up, shuttle kids to soccer, put together a worship set, etc., etc., etc. Having Greg gone several times this month, the last trip being more lengthy, forced me to pause. As I slowed down my pace, I began to notice people around me.

When the love of Christ controls us, we become noticers instead of doers. It isn't that we stop working or serving, but rather a radar goes up. My radar had been on the fritz for some time. Noticing had ceased. If my neighbor watered her flowers and I was in the backyard, it was a quick wave and dash back into the house, not a conscious choice to linger, ask about her day and truly care about hearing her response. I had also stopped noticing details with my children-- and that one was the most frightening to me.

When I ignore small gestures and details, I miss their silent invitations into their world. "Tell me about your picture! Who did you play with at recess today? What do you like best about playing soccer?"

If love is controlling my choices, my behavior, the pattern of my thoughts, the result is going to be less selfish, less rushed, less snippy, more in tune with the fruit of the spirit. If I am pushing for family devotion time right before bed, rushing them around and then barking at them to be quiet and listen, chances are, they aren't going to have a good feeling linking mom to hearing God's Word. It defeats the purpose. I know that His Word doesn't return void, but man, there can be some real baggage to carry through life when you've heard it from an impatient person lacking compassion because of sheer exhaustion-- making you feel like you're one of the reasons she's tired and worn out.

This week I listened more to my kids and talked less, did more with my kids and worried less, spent less money and invested a little more time with them. The result? I had the most peaceful week with the least amount of fighting among my children than I have experienced in a long time. I feel as though I have been hypocritical in my parenting, hoping that throwing some Bible verses at them before bed will sink in, without following up by leading in a patient, loving example.

Greg arrives back at home tonight and the routine will change yet again. I want to hang onto the week and a half the kids and I have had and keep my tone patient and keep myself quieter as I listen and ponder what they have to say. So if you ask me for a favor this week and the answer has to be "no", just try to understand I'm going to attempt to continue the balance and focus more on who lives on Douglas Street.