Decide In Your Heart

A friend of mine is a budding photographer. I took the kids to meet her this week. Jaxie will be one in a month and I have an empty frame in the living room begging for his first of many annual pictures.  Knowing from past experience that the older 2 would likely freak out, I told them that they didn't have to participate. They could if they wanted but it wasn't required.

We went to the battlefields. We unloaded the cars and carried things and children out to the field. There were so many pretty textures and natural backdrops. Tina started taking pictures of all of us while we were getting settled. When the focus became Jackson, Ethan took notice and started trying to get his attention instead. Then he started putting in for gum balls that I had forgotten in the truck. It wasn't exactly a quick walk back. So, I tried stalling. Ethan was relentless. Within a short time, I was making the trip back to the truck to get the gumballs anyway.

Only, Ethan wasn't satisfied when I handed them over. Instead of one, he wanted two. Instead of red, he wanted white. Now, with gumballs in hand, he wanted to go explore a building on the property. Of course he couldn't because he's too young to go alone. He's pushing so hard. It catches me by surprise. And yet I've seen this all before. It's become a reoccurring theme between us. I can already see how the day is unfolding. I start getting anxious and I begin pummeling my internal list of questions. Do I put my foot down? Do I have to go so far as to whip him? -Here or there? Do I let the boy go be a boy and explore? Am I a helicopter mother? Is he testing boundaries or am I short changing him somewhere else? Why is this so complicated?

I tried distracting him again by attempting a group shot of me and the kids. I got on the ground so that they could jump all over me. It seemed to be working. It seemed like we were all getting back on track and then out of nowhere Sophie became hysterical. She didn't want to stand. She didn't want to sit. I made her get leaves on her tights. I don't really think that she knew why she was crying but as far as she was concerned, the world was ending. I took her back to the truck to get changed into jeans. Defeat is starting to sink in.

Sophie and I make it back to Tina and the boys. The distraction of the group shot was forgotten. Ethan picks up exactly where he left off before about the building. Can we go now? I am annoyed. I had envisioned in my mind that we'd get pictures and then go off exploring the building, the canons, and anything else. But yes, let's get this out of the way. We go to the building. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind I am still trying to get that group shot. I just want ONE picture of 3 kids that look like they're not being tortured. Well really, I love them. I want a thousand pictures of them together looking happy. I don't realize it then but this desire is really driving the rest of the day. For some reason, I just keep trying. Ethan keeps resisting. -On the walls outside of the building, on the fence and in the grass again, I am still trying.

The day finally comes to an explosive head. One that suddenly wakes me up and I realize that this dynamic cannot continue between us. Not today. Not in the future. Later there is a sweet spot. But the tone had already been set. It's playing low in mind. By the time that we got home, I was exhausted. We all were. After dinner we got in my bed and the kids watched a movie. I recounted the day.

I read a bloggers post about how anger was really sadness with a mask. I let the story settle. The next morning I woke up with a heavy heart. I recounted the day, from the moment Ethan asked about the gumballs.

I thought about that article. Was I angry? No. I was anxious. Was there an underlying reason for my anxiety? What on earth was I anxious about? And why does it resurface in the same exact spot, every time. -When I am being tested by him.

Then I think of Philippians 4:6.  Be anxious for nothing, but in everything… let your requests be made known to God.

I realize that I never once reached out to God in that moment of need. This girl, who prayed for and received a 1” toy donkey when there was no time left to find one. This girl, who prayed for and received help with her father, when his own father was on his deathbed. This girl, who has prayed a million other little prayers between those two; never once considered asking God to help her with this thing that seemed to defeat her regularly. How many other moments in my life are Godless? I know that there must be many but how many? I wonder if the day would've been more peaceful had I started off right. I stop and offer repentance and a request for help right then.

Then back to the problem. It's not anger that immobilizes me in that moment. It's anxiety. But why?

I think of the words decide in your heart, which come from 2 Corinthians 9:7. I realize that under all of that anxiety, I am engulfed in a sea of emotions ranging from:

• Frustration of being tested.
• Exhaust from its reoccurrence.
• Guilt because I feel like I never see them and I wonder if they simply need MORE than I am giving.
• Uncertainty, because they are little. Perhaps, I demand too much.
• Shame, because sometimes I think I just need to get a grip and be the parent.
• Sadness, because I just don't know sometimes, if I am doing this right.
• Even love. Despite the testing, I still love them and sometimes, I just want to go sit on them and hold them down and push their little cheeks up into a smile, and say "Hey we're going to enjoy this moment dangit!"

Who knew parenting was so hard? As I write this, I realize that my anxiety is because I have not decided in my heart which one of these emotions will steal these moments, or the next one when it happens again. Ethan pushes twice as hard because he also, does not know.

I've been thinking that my issue was because I don't follow through often enough. Really, it's that I can't serve 2 masters or however many others that I just outlined. (Mat 6:24). I have not decided in my heart which one of those emotions will lead and so they all compete, keeping me from defining what the rules really are. How could he know if he's crossing the line, if I never decide when or where to lay it down?

I suddenly feel the need to write a mission statement on a post it note, so that I can fold it up and put it in my wallet. The next time this happens, I will freeze time and pull out my note and remind myself what I said was going to happen...  I'm only half serious but I know that I must decide.

I cannot lead effectively if I am hung up on fear or guilt or shame. –And I must still follow rules when I feel those things, so what I teach my children should be no different; particularly when it comes to respect and safety. Nor can I pretend to make things optional with the kids when I clearly have a goal in mind. Like having a silly picture… sigh.

Thinking about the situation in this light, changes the way I feel about it. I now feel as if I have a secret weapon in my pocket. Wisdom and a plan.

And I thank God for the power of prayer.