Thankfulness and Perspective

My son did an activity at church and his class was told to write a message to God.  Afterwards, they each folded their little notes and stuck them in their Bibles before heading home for Sunday lunch.  I'm not sure what they were talking about that day in class, and I'm not sure if there were any further directions about what their little note to Jesus should say, but on the car ride home -- my son handed me his Bible and his papers (so his little hands were free for holding a doughnut) and this is what I saw:

That's my Sugar Monkey right there. 

Super-sweet.

Super-precious.

There are two sides this coin of thankfulness. 

One side is *my* thankfulness.  People say to me, and I know they will say to you as well, "Your kids are so lucky to have you."  But the truth is that *I* am the one lucky to have them.  I sought them out, and I fought to bring them home.  I wanted them and loved them long before I met them, and every day -- however crazy or slightly dysfunctional that day can be :) -- I am grateful that I had another day with them.  I miss them when we're apart.  And while I love date nights alone with my darling, I love family nights together almost as much.  

That being said, sometimes -- especially when a child is old enough to remember all the hardships they have experienced -- we do want our children to be grateful.  Not grateful in the sense that these kids owe me! But gratefulness is the sense that God has called us all to be -- gratefulness as a cornerstone of our character and person.  

And it can be hard to deal with ungratefulness.

We had a young man live with us for a year and a half.  His story was a tragic one and Ray would describe him as both an alien and an orphan.  His first language was not English, yet to ask him, there was almost no language that was his primarily language because he never had a language long enough for it to fulfill all his needs in what he wanted to say.  He wasn't from America, and his ties with his family were in appearance to be severed.

We did so much for him, and he behaved as though it were not only expected, but it wasn't good enough.  No meal that I prepared was good enough.  No clothing or bed or toys or electronics were good enough.  And it sort of hurt my heart to a core foundational level.

And it was hard to understand how much he was broken to his core, foundational level.  

I think sometimes it's hard for us to realize how many aspects of a person's behavior, attitude, thought-process, and understanding can come from a central place of brokenness.  One aspect makes sense, and another aspect feels like left-field.  We can mistakenly think, "sure they were hurt, but they are old enough to know better. . . "

And we miss a few key elements that we need to understand.

1) We will never fix broken reasoning, until we tackle their broken heart.  

You can't force sympathy, mercy, contrition, hope, love, respect.  We WANT to, but God did not design us to learn from being forced.  It can only be learned as an outgrowth of love and healing.  We need to mull over this, ruminate over this truth.  

2)  Jesus loved us while we were yet sinners.

Ponder that.  God adopted us -- not when we were awesome church attenders and tithed regularly, but he pursued us when we were cursing, floundering, struggling and miserable on our own.  He didn't just love us a little, but he gave his life for us.  So what kind of love are we bestowing on our children?  Is it the same unselfish love?  Is it the same redeeming and uplifting love?  

3)  We need to relinquish our need for control.

Bam.  This hits me anew every time.  I can just go ahead and raise my hand on this one.  *I* need to relinquish control.  I burden myself with feeling like every aspect of my children is a reflection of me as a parent.  Every sweet thank you to the bank teller who offers a lollypop to every tantrum in the middle of Walmart.  I tell myself to own it, and then I want to control the situation.  

But let's be realistic!  They are individuals.  These little kids have their own brains and their own preferences.  They have their own funny little quirks and annoying little habits.  They aren't cookie cutters of me, and heaven help them if I try to make them into that.  

I need to let go. 

Guide instead of demand. 

We're learning, right?

Heaven knows, God is always teaching.  We just need to listen.

What are you learning right now?  What is God teaching you through your children?  I'd love to know!