When you have to forgive the violet thief

There are two treasures that you don't touch in our house. You don't touch Papa's board games and you don't touch Mama's plants, specifically my African Violets. I've been raising them for probably  over 15 years and I constantly marvel at their delicate flowers.

Most of mine are this deep purple color, but at least one is pink.  In the past, I've had some mostly white ones, with just a touch of pink in them. Currently, I'm raising babies from my own plants to transplant and gift to friends and family. Since most of my violets are purple, I'm especially fond of other bloom colors.  My favorite lately was my pink one in full bloom.

I say was...because forgiveness was needed last week. While a friend was visiting on Monday, I showed her this pink one in full bloom.  My daughter asked to see it, so after giving her a reminder of "Don't touch the flowers, only look"  (which is the reminder I give her with our tulips outside) I turned back to my friend for five minutes.  Yes, I'm sure you can guess what happened.

My heart was crushed and I didn't know how to process it. There's no way to predict when it will bloom again. And clearly, they can't be glued back on.All I kept thinking was how this week's Bible study lesson was on forgiveness. What timing!  As our lesson clearly stated, I knew out of the vast ocean of forgiveness I had received, that I must forgive her too. (And compared to marker on the wall or chopping off her hair, this wasn't so bad)

My struggle wasn't  in if I could forgive her, but how to help her understand the cost of that forgiveness.  Forgiveness costs the giver something.  God's forgiveness of me cost Jesus his life.  My forgiveness to others comes out of the great storehouse of forgiveness I have received from God.   It is the relinquishing of a debt.

As I layed her down for her nap, I sobbed.  My heart was crushed, and she needed to know that though I still loved her and forgave her, my heart was still sad over her actions.  There was still a cost to her actions.  At her age, she is only sorrowful that our friendship is broken.  She tries every technique she can think of to make us "be friends" again. "I still love you mama". "Mama, your heart changed?  You're happy again?" "I'm sorry mama".  She is sorrowful that we are not friends, but not repentant over her actions.  She can recite back her wrong doing, but I wonder how much of it her heart understands.

So much of parenting has given me a living picture of my relationship with God. How many times am I sorrowful that I disappointed Him, without grieving my sinful choices?  How many times do I say I'm sorry, but yet that action may happen again? How many times does He faithfully forgive me, though I don't fully grasp the true cost of that forgiveness?

Ahh, my dearest daughter, you and I have much to learn in this area of repentance and forgiveness. Together, we will learn to admit our wrongs, ask for forgiveness from the heart, and be deeply grateful when that cost is paid in the form of forgiveness.

We're in this together.


PS. Let me know in the comments if you have any tips on helping children understand apologies, admitting wrong, forgiveness, ect.

Only half the picture: or when the obedient children of today turn into tomorrow's drama

This last Wednesday, a random stranger stopped me at the library to marvel at the obedience of my toddler. Yes, let's stop to wonder at that for a moment......for it may never happen again. We had pulled up to the library, and my toddler was waiting for me to get the little one out. This gentleman stopped to complement me on how she stayed right with me, and asked how I trained her to do that. He explained that his own children usually bolt in a million directions. Caught off guard, I initially responded, "lots of prayer!" But then followed it up with something about clear directions, follow through, consequences, and timeouts to think about what a better choice would be. My answer may have sounded a bit mixed up as I was completely caught off guard.

I went home feeling validated that at least a small part of my work had payed off...for a moment.

But the man only saw half the picture. He never saw the next morning as she cried and whined, and complained about everything. Or heard my desperate prayers for God's help. Or saw how much I just wanted to put her in timeout and shut the door for some moments of peace. He never saw us Friday morning when I had to hot glue the bear she broke back together, or when she had to clean up the cats' water she spread all over the floor.  He only saw half the picture.

How often do I look at someone's snapshot and immediately judge that their whole life must be as marvelous as this "half picture".   Seeing Instagram pictures, smiling children on Sunday, or seeing a person in public vs. as they really are at home, gives us only half the picture of their life. My obedient child of Wednesday turned into my drama child of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.  I know I often fall prey to feeling like I don't measure up after viewing other's shining moments. But it's because I don't see their sink of dishes or toddler tantrums. 

Equally wrong is when I only look at a snapshot of my life, and believe that to be the whole picture. If I only look at her tantrums this weekend, or the Cheerios on the freshly swept floor, I quickly feel exhausted.  But I would miss our tea parties and nature hikes. I would miss our morning devotions, and night time songs. I would only see half my picture. 

So if your day feels like a cracked bear hot glued together....

Or like you're living the dream......

Remember, that moment is only half the picture.  Let's celebrate moments in our friends' lives....while remembering they are real people with messy moments too. And let's hold on to the memories of strangers complementing our child's obedience to get us through the days of wet floors and tantrums.  Let's look at the whole picture. Let's live in grace.  Grace for ourselves, and grace for others. Let's celebrate the moments in each of our lives that are beautiful.  And cheer each other on, on the days when the only thing we are thankful for is that not every day is like this.

We're in this together.

May your seconds feel like minutes and your minutes like hours......

As I sat and rocked her...again...all while wishing I was the one to be heading to bed, I began thinking of this moment.  This perfect moment. Her warm body snuggled to me as we rocked in the antique chair passed on by great grandparents, never mind that her leg hurt or I was anxious to head to bed myself.  In that moment, it was just us. Her soft breath on my neck as she slept on my shoulder, unaware of her leg pain anymore.  And in that moment, I wanted the seconds to feel like minutes, and the minutes like hours......so when that time is gone I could hold on to that moment.

You don't have to tell me how fast time will go. It feels like only yesterday that she was my baby (I often tease her that I'm going to squish her up again to be my baby because she is too big), but yet it feels like tomorrow she will already graduate high school.  You never seem to understand your own parents' sentimentalism until you have your own children.


One of the reasons I love my husband is his sense of urgency with time.  Having lost his sister and dad too early, and lost contact with different close1 friends, he doesn't take time with those closest for granted. He is very aware of not letting anything take him away from our family, and very mindful of being intentional with the moments with our kiddos. At this moment, he's out working in the yard with his little shadow, whose heart was crushed when she thought she may not be able to join him. 

:

Time waits for no one. I don't take any day for granted with these little ones, for I know none are guaranteed.


I read or heard once about someone who rocked their baby just one minute longer or snuggled just one minute more for they knew that season would soon be over and they would hold to those moments.  Psalm 90:12 (NIV) says "Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Today, lets be intentional.  Let's hug one more time, call just because, "be" in the moment, and reach out again.

May your seconds feel like minutes and your minutes like hours...so when that time is gone, you can hold on to that moment.....and know you spent it well.

Expectant Parents: a book review

Expectant Parents, written by Suzanne Hadley Gosselin, is a how-to manual for the hearts of new parents. In her book, she covers mom and dad's individual roles, career decisions, emotions, community, family background and other essential topics. It's not so much a reference manual as a gentle discussion with a friend of all the new challenges and blessings that come with a new little one. Suzanne shares a variety of both positive and negative experiences from people at different stages in the journey. She strongly supports the belief that there are no set ways/methods for each family. Rather each couple needs to seek out the Lord's leading for their own family, and this may not be the same as their upbringing or of the cultural norm.

Reading this book was like receiving a comforting embrace midway through a white-knuckled drive down a foggy road. I about cried tears of joy as I read her chapters and realized......I was normal. It was all going to be OK!  I remember excitedly telling my husband that "the book said it's going to be OK!  It said that I'm normal and it's going to all be fine!"  My husband and I are expecting our first child next summer, and thus the first couple months of pregnancy were filled with fears, weariness, sickness, and talk over the future. Remember in Luke, where Mary went to visit Elizabeth after finding out she was 'with child'?  How comforting Elizabeth's words and embrace must have felt to a girl who had just obediently accepted a social outcast role in raising her first child, God's Son!  As Mary heard Elizabeth's words, she must have thought, "It's OK! I'm not alone!  It's going to be OK."  As I read through that chapter with new eyes this Christmas, I connected with her. I too, needed someone to tell me it was OK, and that the emotions and fears I had were normal. I would recommend this book for anyone expecting their first child. It is a good reminder to seek the Lord in each area of this new adventure, and it also provides good discussion between couples over the expectations each one has for delivery through raising a family.
I received a complementary copy of this book for review purposes from Tyndale House Publishers.