Yesterday was one of those mornings ...what began as an early wake-up with the baby ended in frantically pushing everyone out the door for school so my husband could make an appointment at his office. One child in particular moves at his own pace, at the more I push, the slower he seems to go. I get frustrated, he slows down more. And then my voice raises above where I want it to be, and he heads off to school with a blessing I always trace on his forehead, but not the one I most want him to carry in his heart.
As I closed the door behind him, I felt a whisper in my heart that this was not the way the Lord wants me to be with my children. He calls me to gentleness. Past experiences have shown this to be true; my spiritual director has asked me to pray for this grace. And so it was as though the Lord wrote these words just for me when I opened the Magnificat yesterday to read: "A humbled, contrite heart you will not spurn." (Ps 51:17)
A "humbled, contrite heart." This is what the Lord asks of me. Not to rise above my children as a drill sergeant, but to minister to them in love, in patience. To see the good in them and to do my best to bring that out.
Not that firmness isn't an essential part of parenting; but in my life, I can see that responding with a lack of patience and grace does nothing to help my children grow in the virtues I so desire to see in them.
"How?" I asked my spiritual director yesterday. "How do I parent, and lead them with a humble and contrite heart?"
Like so many things in our Christian walk, the two seem antithetical.
But Jesus, as our Master, taught us to serve. So this morning, when I asked my son to hurry up, and I could feel the tension rising, I called on God's grace and softened my voice. My son said he would finish up, and I thanked him. As I put papers in his backpack, I told him how proud I was of him for making good use of his time in class yesterday, which enabled him to finish up some work he had missed while out sick last week. And when he walked out the door, a few minutes later than I would have liked, it was OK, because today the blessing was traced on his forehead and modeled into his heart.
A "humble, contrite heart" helps me parent because it helps me see better into my child's heart. It helps me lead instead of push.
I believe my spiritual director is a very wise man; this is because when confronted with a question, his usual response is to pose the question to God. How do I have this gentleness I know the Lord desires of me and my children need from me? Ask the Lord to show me. Ask Him to help me. Trust that not only do I not have to figure this out on my own, I couldn't, even if I tried.
A friend recently shared with me an experience she had in Adoration. While praying about a struggling relationship she had with a daughter, the Lord spoke to her heart that we are to hold our children in our hands like doves.
I want to hold my children gently, so their days are spent experiencing the wholeness that is Him, rather than the brokenness that is me.
And I praise the God who makes this -- and all good things -- possible. (Mat 19:26)
