This is a picture of me and my little brother and sister from about thirty years ago:
My daddy had it posted on Facebook and I kinda stole it from there! I'm guessing I'm about 9 or so in this picture.
Now, when me and my brother and sister were growing up, we fussed and fought more than I'm proud to admit. We could really get into some knock-down-drag-outs! The funny thing about that is the fact that if anybody else even thought about bothering one of us we would have killed for each other; I think!
Fast forward thirty years and here is a picture of us from November of 2010 in reverse order from the picture above:
Poor ole' Jason was always in the middle of us girls! Bless his heart :) We are all grown up now with families of our own and guess what? We still have our squabbles, still get into each others business more than we probably should. And guess what else? I think we'd probably still hurt anybody really bad who messed with the other one! Alright, now I'm crying! Where's my box of tissue?
Love can be a funny and complicated things sometimes. I don't know why we make it so. We have the Master Lover of our souls as an example and I don't know why we don't follow Christ's example more than we do!
One of the prayers I have for my own three children is that they will love each other and will respect and care for each other well. I feel like some days that isn't happening. Especially on those days, when I spend most of my breath and words saying: "Stop bothering you sister!" "Don't say anything if you can't say something helpful or nice!" or "Will ya'll just please leave each other alone!!!" or "Ya'll are reminding me of me with my little brother and sister!"
Then there are these days:
JennaBeth wants to do everything her bubba (what she calls Bentley) and her sessy (what she calls Cecily) does! She wakes up in the morning and after naps calling for her bubba to come get her! Bentley had gone to a neighbors yard yesterday afternoon to play. When Cecily was helping get JennaBeth ready to go back to church for the evening service, Bentley had not returned home yet. Now JennaBeth is not a crier. She just does not cry very much about anything, but as Cecily was trying to dress her for church, she was in tears asking, "Where bubba at, want see my bubba!"
Bentley told me the other day that he wished Cecily did school at home so he wouldn't have to miss her so much! He usually wants a book before bedtime and there are occasions that Cecily insists that she read to him.
My husband told me the last night that as he was putting Bentley to bed, Cecily came out of her room just to give Bentley a goodnight kiss.
I'm very thankful for these times and it reminds my that they do really love each other just like I really do love my brother and sister! On the days my kids aren't so loving toward one another, I'm more aware of the kind of example I have set for them maybe with my impatience and tone with them on that particular day. And then I have to fall at Jesus' feet thankful and humbled at His great love for me and the grace He has poured out on me. It's on those days that I'm encouraged and challenged by Him to press into Him and learn how to show a better example to my three sweet blessings.
A Mom's Version of 1 Corinthians 13
Though I lecture and harp at my children and have not love,
I will be background noise to rebellious thoughts.
An though I wisely warn them not to use the street as a playground,
or they'll be killed;
and though I patiently explain why snails live in mobile homes,
and I give endless answers to life's other mystries;
and though I have faith that can remove mountains of ignorance
yet never hug my children
I have taught nothing.
And though I slave over a steaming stove
with balanced diets and complicated recipes
and even burn my fingers
yet never smile as I serve
I have not really fed them.
A truly loving mother suffers through unfinished sentences,
clutter, nicks on furniture, sleepless nights
and adolescent insults,
and is kind enough to think her kids are the greatest.
A loving mother tries not to resent her children for being free
like she used to be,
and she doesn't brag about how she never talked to her mom that way.
Real love considers a childish nightmare more urgent
than her need for sleep;
is not shattered by the title "Meanest Mom";
doesn't shame a toddler who breaks training
or a teen who still spills milk;
steadfastly refuses to entertain visions of escape;
and does not smirk as her child trips over the toy he refused to put away
(but with silent wisdom rejoices in the effective lessons of experience).
Mother-love has arms strong from lifting,
a heart large with believing,
a mind stretched with hoping,
shoulders soft with enduring,
and knees bent with committing.
True mother-love never fails to point her child to the Author of Love.
(from When the Handwriting on the Wall Is in...Brown Crayon by Susan Lenzkes)
Go hug your kids,
Jennifer