Lambs and Angry Moments
I know I already posted today. It turns out I've been fairly introspective lately, most likely because the days have been rough. I've been racking my brain and searching my actions to see if the problem lies with me. It probably does to some extent, because I'm as antsy as my kids these days. Still, there's enough guilt to go around on this parenting road and I'd hate to assume guilt that's not mine to feel.
As I reflected on a particularly rough day recently, I cringed as my mind replayed the moments (yes, I said moments) where I was angry, truly angry, with my kids. I had raised my voice and spoken pretty tersely. I think once I even stomped my foot to get their attention. That night I prayed, "Lord, give us grace in our memories, and help us not to remember those rough moments!"
But the next day, when some of the emotion was removed from the memory, I again thought about the anger I'd felt. Was it wrong? Was it really wrong to be angry when my kids disobeyed? I was reminded of Jesus in the temple, turning over tables in his anger. I was reminded of Moses. Surely there were examples of people in the Bible who were angry--and showed it. Maybe anger in itself is not wrong. After all, my kids need to know there are boundaries. There are consequences for the things they do. They need to know I'm human too, and I have feelings and limits that are worth considering. Maybe the even more important lesson is that they are human. They have feelings and limits, and there will be times when they are angry. Suddenly it dawned on me that my responsibility as a mom is not to stuff that anger. It's not to let it control me, either. I have a responsibility to let them see me angry, to know that anger is a part of life, and to model what a mature, Christian adult does with that emotion. Just like that the guilt was gone. Oh, the sweet relief! Anger is somewhat inevitable on these long days. This is not my excuse to indulge or feed that anger, but I felt so free from that nagging guilt over the ugliest moments of our days!
I guess the bottom line is this: God knows what it is to raise children. He's raised generations of them, after all. Worse, he's raised adults who acted like children. He knows how these days push me to my limits. And he has grace to extend to me that I'm reluctant to extend to myself. One of my favorite passages is Isaiah 40:11. I literally cling to it on these rough days:
As I reflected on a particularly rough day recently, I cringed as my mind replayed the moments (yes, I said moments) where I was angry, truly angry, with my kids. I had raised my voice and spoken pretty tersely. I think once I even stomped my foot to get their attention. That night I prayed, "Lord, give us grace in our memories, and help us not to remember those rough moments!"
But the next day, when some of the emotion was removed from the memory, I again thought about the anger I'd felt. Was it wrong? Was it really wrong to be angry when my kids disobeyed? I was reminded of Jesus in the temple, turning over tables in his anger. I was reminded of Moses. Surely there were examples of people in the Bible who were angry--and showed it. Maybe anger in itself is not wrong. After all, my kids need to know there are boundaries. There are consequences for the things they do. They need to know I'm human too, and I have feelings and limits that are worth considering. Maybe the even more important lesson is that they are human. They have feelings and limits, and there will be times when they are angry. Suddenly it dawned on me that my responsibility as a mom is not to stuff that anger. It's not to let it control me, either. I have a responsibility to let them see me angry, to know that anger is a part of life, and to model what a mature, Christian adult does with that emotion. Just like that the guilt was gone. Oh, the sweet relief! Anger is somewhat inevitable on these long days. This is not my excuse to indulge or feed that anger, but I felt so free from that nagging guilt over the ugliest moments of our days!
I guess the bottom line is this: God knows what it is to raise children. He's raised generations of them, after all. Worse, he's raised adults who acted like children. He knows how these days push me to my limits. And he has grace to extend to me that I'm reluctant to extend to myself. One of my favorite passages is Isaiah 40:11. I literally cling to it on these rough days:
"He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those
that have young."
He carries my children close to his heart. He cares about them more than I can ever hope to care for them. And he no doubt makes up for my countless mistakes in raising them. But he doesn't stop there. He gently leads me too. He knows these days are hard, and he leads me with gentleness through them. I can't think of any greater encouragement in this life stage!
