Last Tuesday night, I sat up with my scared two-year-old in his room, holding him until I could feel his breathing slow and his body relax.
Best. Mom. Ever.
The Sunday before that, I attended a seminar on Intentional Parenting. I found it refreshing and encouraging.
Monday and Tuesday, I floated through life with the boys. We played and met friends at the park. I read to them and listened to them. I didn’t get any housework done, but hey, I was the world’s best mom!
Wednesday and Thursday, reality came crashing down as I realized I needed to do laundry and dishes at some point. I was sore from Pilates and battling indigestion, and I became frustrated when the boys wanted my attention instead of occupying themselves with art projects.
Balance is not my strong point.
I have often heard that a child’s first impression of God is from their parents. And as I sat with a scared David in the middle of the night, watching his expression turn from fear to adoration of his Mommy, I could see it.
And yet I am so imperfect. And I express the character of God to my children?
Eek.
But the folks I heard on Sunday reminded me of my saving grace, quite literally — Christ redeems all things. All mistakes. Even mine.
I hold my boys’ beautiful hearts in safe keeping for now, trusted by their Creator to raise them according to his plan. I am trying to be gentle with these young hearts who seem so old — only four and two, but so quick, so sharp.
But when I fail? There is a Redeemer, even for me.
