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My First Parenting Scar

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I don’t like to complain about my husband or when my kids aggravate me. Yeah, I complain about breastfeeding pain and not having enough sleep. But the real aggravations? The stuff that keeps me up at night and worried during my quiet moments? I really don’t even like to talk about those things.

I wrote a blog post yesterday about how disobedient my three-year-old, Lydia, had been that day. It was one of those motherhood-stinks-roll-my-eyes-at-my-kids posts. But I couldn’t post it because I DO NOT WANT TO BE ONE OF THOSE MOTHERS. I love being a mom. I love raising my kids. And I don’t want to get exasperated at my children. I don’t want to be counting down the days until they go to kindergarten.

Lydia has always been obedient. She’s compliant. She was my first and I thought she was perfect. Well, mostly perfect. I’ve seen her try to manipulate us. I’ve watched her blatantly disobey. But yesterday was the worst it’s ever been. I felt like I was having an argument with a thirteen-year-old rebellious teenager.

My Lydia.

My heart broke a little last night. I never dreamed my sweet little baby girl could act so horribly toward me. So this morning after possibly the worst night of my life, I got Lydia out of bed and cuddled her. I spoke softly to her about the night before. And I could sense her remorse.

But the rest of the day, I felt like I was with someone I didn’t know. I felt like my little girl hidden a part of herself from me. It’s the first time I felt disconnected from her. Separated from her.

That’s what sin does. It separates us. When we sin, it separates from our Heavenly Father. And I’ve always known this. Taught this. But I assumed it was our Heavenly Father who was looking at us like, “Tsk, Tsk. You’re sinning, I can’t be with you, minion.”

Today I realized I was wrong. The separation is on MY side. When I sin, I choose to love and hold and cherish that disobedience and selfishness instead of honoring my relationship with God. And it’s not ME that feels the pull, it’s God. God is the one that feels the little drawbridge pulled up, the door closed and the book slammed shut. He’s the one that’s missing knowing my whole heart. HE misses ME.

All day long, I’ve been thinking about how I should fix this situation with Lydia. What should I say? How should I react when she disobeys again? What does she need? What am I missing? Where do I start? I even picked up a parenting book. I’m basically sick to my stomach about my daughter’s bad behavior … but even more upset about her heart. Words and actions are just the overflow of the heart.

I know my daughter is only three. I know her disobedience isn’t going to turn her into a serial killer or a bank robber. I know these thoughts I’m having are just on my side. I may be reading into her behavior. But I also know how quickly time goes. In only ten years, she WILL be thirteen. I want to spend these next ten years wooing her. Knowing her. Showering her with love.

Just like I’m spending every waking second trying to woo her back to an open relationship with me, God does the same thing to us. He is the Relentless Lover. He wants only to know us and enjoy us and shower us with love.

The pain I feel right now is a revelation to the relationship between God and me. I just pray I can show the same love God showed me to my own daughter. Love from the Relentless Lover seeking His first love.



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