At the dinner table, I told Eliot to eat his couscous, reminding him to think about the way he misbehaved the night before at dinner.
If you’re single or married without kids, snow days can be the perfect excuse to sleep in or have a movie marathon.
And with little boys, it can still be a blast– if there’s actually snow to play in– but all we’ve gotten so far is rain and sleet, and two stir-crazy toddlers.
So at the table, Eliot ate his food slowly, and though I was trying to use this reminder as a tool to help him realize his wrong, to be kind, it back-fired in my heart.
Immediately I thought, Oh, thank you God, that you don’t remind me of my sins from the night before the second I come to You.
As parents, we’re still learning how to love correctly, aren’t we?
Oh, wait, as human beings in general we’re learning that, because we’re all pretty broken, if we just confess it.
One afternoon, I caught sight and sound of Eliot standing at the love seat, singing “Yes, Jesus loves me!” and at the kitchen sink I thought Does he know it? Because I’m the one who shows him who Jesus is and how He loves.
Eli and I both failed in this, but my heart and the kind Spirit of God have pinched at a lot of nerves to remind me that I need to love instead of remind. I need to snuggle him close and laugh at the characters in our storybooks, and make up new stories that reflect the life we’re given– life that is called by grace and kindness, by peace and patience.
That’s the world I want for us, may God help me along the way.