A Mother's Example

The silence following my raised voice was deafening. Ben glanced at me, head hung, then turned and slowly walked upstairs, no doubt to seek solace in his Legoes.

As for me, I couldn’t believe I’d yelled that way — full, louder-than-loud yelling — over a neglected cat litter box. That box pushes my last button when it stinks up the basement, but at the moment, I stunk far worse. My own head hung, I turned and slowly walked out to the deck, where I could talk this over with God.

When Matthew and Ben were younger, I discovered I had a temper, and battled it fiercely. I prayed and memorized passages of Scripture. I remembered my own mother as gentle and calm, such a good example to me of what I wanted to be. And yet, I felt unable to control my temper, setting such a bad example for my sons. But I’d yell anyway. Sometimes, my throat would hurt afterwards. To me, it was so shameful that I could yell at these tiny people I loved, entrusted to me by a loving and patient God.

But as they’d gotten older, I’d done it less. I didn’t know if this was a credit to their growing maturity or my own; I was just thankful I wasn’t yelling anymore.

Until the day I yelled at Ben.

Out on the deck, I told God about it, asking His forgiveness — but I still felt like a heel. All the things I know about God and His perspective don’t always sink deep down right away in the heat of the emotion. Things like: God has forgiven me utterly! He sees Jesus’ righteousness when He looks at me. He is never surprised or undone by my many mistakes, character flaws, offenses and plain old sin. I am a work in process, and He has promised to keep on working and never give up. He loves me as much right now as He ever has, and will never love me any less or turn away from me. Even if I yell again tomorrow. His grace staggers me every time, energizing me, keeping hopelessness at bay.

After 10 minutes or so with God, I went upstairs to make things right with Ben. I found him on the floor with his Legoes and knelt down beside him. My voice trembled as I asked his forgiveness; he easily hugged me and gave it. Then he said something that strengthened my motherly heart.

""Mom, I knew you’d be coming soon to tell me you’re sorry."

"You did?" I asked, wondering why.

"Sure. Because it’s what you always do. Whenever you yell or do something you shouldn’t, you always come quickly and ask us to forgive you."

It was then that I really did cry. I want my sons to be the best they can be — which means loving Jesus and seeking Him in everything. But even if Jesus is their greatest desire, they will still sin against Him and others; they will still need to know what to do with their sin against God and others.

I cried because, while my example of an out-of-control temper is not something I ever want them to emulate, I clearly had set an example of asking forgiveness of God and of them when I did yell. Maybe he was learning not from my example of a quick temper, but from my example of being quick to repent. Maybe I wasn’t such a failure as a mom after all.

Some weeks later, I read this in a blog called MomLife:

My imperfections will find a way to weasel their way into my day, whether I like it or not.

So, what’s a mom to do?
· Accept the fact that we will never be perfect. Nor will our children, our husband, or our house.
· Ask God to give us the grace we need to be an example of love to our children.
· Learn to apologize to our children with humility when we make mistakes, and we will make mistakes, all the time.

 You want to know my definition of a "good mom" these days? A good mom is someone who loves her kids fiercely and with abandon, as God first loved us.

... A good mom isn’t someone who never loses her cool, but someone who loves her children enough to show them how to gracefully handle it when she does.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." -1 Peter 4:8