Failing

Finn is two!

Room full of birthday balloons!

Room full of birthday balloons!

What a fun age this is! He’s still small enough to hold and cuddle, but big enough to wrestle and tell me exactly what he wants.

And that’s the problem: he tells us exactly what he wants. The iPad, Goldfish, milk, ni-nite, for us to “go away.” Most of the time it’s difficult to get mad at the little blue eyed charmer. But lately, I’ve been the leading lady in some major parenting fails.

Missed naps and molars and general two-year-old sassiness mean we actually have to parent–as in the verb form of the word. I have to watch my tongue and take deep breaths. I’ve become a master of distraction. I must stick to my guns, be patient and gentle with my words; walk away and lower my voice. I’m reactionary, and these thing are difficult for me.

Two weeks ago we were given the opportunity to move through “worship stations” at church. I knelt at a prayer bench, exhausted from a week of feeling like a failure. No really…I blew it several times. I’m learning from my mistakes and discovering how Finn personally responds to discipline, but the encounters took an emotional toll on my heart.

So I’m kneeling on the bench, belly bulging beneath me. I was thinking through parenting books I should probably read, advice I should seek from my friends, inspiring blog posts from other moms who tell it like it is…and all I could come up with was:

I need Jesus.

Seriously. He is ALL you and I need to be enough.

As a parent. A spouse. A student. A minister. A human. I felt the Lord hold me in that moment on the bench, reminding me that sometimes the answer is simple. And when it comes to how I can possibly be the parent Finn needs, it’s Him.

Watch-phone

Watch-phone

My failures give opportunity for His triumphs.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

“…apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15: 5).

Laundry, snot wiping, wheelchair unloading, being a working mom…these things are worship if I do them for Him. They become ammunition if I do them for Joey; and resentment if I do them for Finn.

“Whatever you do, work at it whole-heartedly, as though doing it for the Lord and not merely for people” (Col. 3:23).

Failure or success, motherhood is a blessing and I’m so thankful I’m not doing it alone. Praise you, Lord.

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2 thoughts on “Failing

  1. Pingback: CyberLife | our invincible summers

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