I had a wonderful mommy moment with my son tonight. He’s slowly growing up into a fine young man and I’m so happy to say that I’ve witnessed up to this very moment every step of his journey. I’ve been there from day one and will continue to be there until the homerun. I am not a perfect mom, I’ve had my bad hair days and my “alto soprano” moments and many times I question myself whether I “get in the way” of what God wants for my children. I used to think that I was a patient person, tolerant and not easy to anger – I thought too highly of myself and my journey as a mom for more than nine years has truly  convinced me that I am not.  But by the grace of God I have learned to move according to the measure of grace that He gives me in each and every circumstance.

Why was tonight special? Well, perhaps it’s because I was able to reach my son’s heart and help him to understand that life’s obstacles are not hindrances but God’s way of forging character and fortitude into our souls. I am reminded of a blacksmith pounding away at a red hot piece of metal on a heavy anvil and how each time the mallet hits the hot metal, it slowly transforms it into the shape that he envisioned the metal to be. I saw this in my son tonight – (btw, he’s only nine years old). God was the blacksmith, my son was the metal and I was the heavy mallet that became the dreaded instrument of torment, er I mean transformation.

At first, it was a struggle of the wills – him succumbing to self-pity and condemnation and I, the imperialistic queen dispensing the law upon him. But I am no queen… I am his mother and I saw that divine opportunity to speak into his life. To lift him up from where he was wallowing and impart destiny into his soul. What joy it was to see him step out of his self-centered world and into an awareness of the world around him where his greater destiny lies.  It was a priceless moment. I don’t want to forget it – hence this post. 

Sometimes the pain of discipline (not necessarily physical) can blur the lines of love and acceptance and distort it into separation and rejection. When that distortion happens, the one who delivers the discipline may be perceived as unloving and uncaring. I believe as a parent, one needs to address those doubts immediately and reassure the child that it is the behavior that is being corrected and not the person being rejected. What do you give a child who misbehaves? Give them a “sandwich”! Yup, a “sandwich”. You give them the “big fat juicy discipline” between two buns of praise and acceptance. A word of encouragement right before the correction and a word of acceptance right after the correction. A sandwich, right? 

Well, my sandwiches aren’t perfect all the time but I try to arrest those “self-pity party” moments when I sense them rising up in my children. I always assure them that my love for them is unconditional and is never based on how “good” they are. That is not to say that they will not be corrected when they misbehave.  But good or bad behavior is not the criterion for my love for them. I hope that when they grow older there will come a time that they will see that side of the picture as well.

I love them dearly and I thank God that they have made my life so much richer in every way imaginable. I will be forever grateful to God and to them for giving me a chance to know and experience the reality that children are indeed precious, priceless gifts from above.