Armor Up

My son Kyle has an amazing friend, a true relationship with a person that I long to have someday. That person is God, and their relationship inspires me every day. Just the other day he came to me in the middle of the night. He said he asked God what to do, and God told him, "Just go get your mom." Then, yesterday he was riding his bike and hit a brick at the end of the drive way. He told me, "Mom, I think I hurt my bone to my penis (???), but don't worry, God is taping it up, and it will be all better."  

Today was the first day of Bible School for my son. He has been talking about it, about how much God loves him, about how he can't wait to see his friends, about taking his Bible. He was so excited. We got him enrolled, entered the room with the other children, and then it happened. My son became an extension of me, clinging to my leg, my arm, my shoulder, anything he could for dear life. He was genuinely afraid; I could see it in his eyes, and it broke my heart.

I probably didn't handle it correctly. I told him if we went home, he had to go to his room.  I was mad, frustrated, sad, embarrassed. I didn't understand what the big deal was - it was JUST Bible school. In my frustration, I hit the steering wheel with my hand.  I had crossed a line.  I was letting anger win.  The other day I witnessed something from a spectator's viewpoint that I pray I never do as a parent.  While taking a short walk to the post office, in the 11 blocks it takes to walk there and back, I heard two different families use the "F" word towards their small children.  The "F" word was not used in conversation with other adults, it was used in a degrading, belligerent way TOWARDS their children:  "Shut the "F-ing" door" and "Get on the "F-ing" porch".  I was stunned, saddened, shocked.  These two incidents have stuck with me.  I have had students tell me that I am one of the nicest people they have ever met.  I am not trying to pat myself on the back, but it is strange to me that more people in their lives are not nicer, that more people find it okay to use such hurtful and hate-filled words towards children of ANY age.  Incidents like this are the reason why I try to be so nice.  They don't need to hear negative words from me, and I knew that my son did not either.

I did not know how to handle the situation with Kyle, but I knew I didn't want to handle it with anger. You see, it is times like this, when I don't know how to handle my son that I know my husband will. (Apparently my eldest son and I are A LOT alike.)  And he did.  He talked to Kyle, and he listened to me cry because I felt I did not know how to parent my son in this situation without hurting his feelings. I want my son to tell me when he feels uncomfortable in a situation. I want my son to leave when he knows that something doesn't feel right.  But I also want him to try. I want him to give his best in every situation.  I want him to try new foods at least once, and introduce himself to new people. I think I want these things for him because I struggle with them so much too. It is painful to see my own struggles in my child. As for my second child, I fear he and I have a few things in common, too - mainly that he has never met a dessert he doesn't like.  

Hours later I can reflect on today, and I know this: I don't have to know all of the answers because God does. I don't have to make every correct parenting decision because of God's grace and forgiveness, the same traits I try to teach my son. I do know that Satan is not some little red devil with horns and a pitchfork sitting near flames. He is a very real being who will use my own children against me when he feels they are getting closer to God. Today I did not have my armor on, ready to fight. But tomorrow, I will do my best because that is, after all, what I ask of my son. When someone asks me what my weapon of choice is, it is kindness. Kindness always wins.