A Life Lesson

Spring has sprung in the South! The pear trees are stunning in all their white glory, the days are longer, and the warm weather is a natural mood lifter. Now, the negative, glass-half-empty part of me could focus on how the blooming trees stink smell like a mixture of antifreeze and dead sardines. I could complain that longer daylight means more backyard baseball, and for me it means sweaty pits and strained hammies. I could also remember how last year's scorching temps put our power bill through the roof. I could choose that line of thinking. However, I refuse to dwell on anything but that of which brings JOY. For today, I choose JOY.

Unfortunately, that was not my motto yesterday. I don’t know what my problem was but I was just unpleasant. Plain and simple. Right before bed, I told D1 that I was in a 'funk.' When I’m in a mood like that, I’m just not nice. And since we had the windows open to allow the pollen fresh air in and I just happen to have a voice that 'carries', the entire neighborhood was treated to my snippity words. Several times, D1 called me on it {which further escalated said miffed mood}. PSA – there’s a house for sale behind us – who wants to buy it? I promise I’ll close the windows when I want to groan and grumble.

Gosh, it seemed like I was going somewhere with this. Oh. Right. Yesterday. So, because of such nice weather, the boys were outside the entire afternoon. There are two little boys in our neighborhood that often come over and want to play. All is fine until another little boy, an older one, comes around. Yesterday we witnessed this older boy treating d1, and ONLY d1, unfairly. It wasn’t physical and there’s really no need to go into details. It bothered us more than him but it’s not easy to watch your child be mistreated. Now, it's no secret that d1 isn’t always the best ‘friend.’ He’s Mr. Bossy-Boss, he runs his mouth far too much and prefers things done a certain way – HIS way. If I’m being honest, there might even be a small, itsy-bitsy part of me that thinks maybe he deserves a taste of his own medicine. Apparently I did not feel that way yesterday. We told our boys to come in the house and told the friends they needed to go on home. Now don’t hear what I’m not saying. We were not harsh to these neighbor boys {although the voices in my head might have had a few additional words but they remained unspoken}. When d1 came in, he was obviously upset and confused. He wasn’t doing anything wrong so why did he have to come in? When we explained to him why and how we didn’t think he should play with kids that treat him like that, what he said was simple but significant. He said, ‘But I don’t care. They’re my friends.’ On the surface, it's just a child pleading to go outside a little longer but it resonated a bit longer in me and truly stung. I knew right then that we had handled the situation entirely the wrong way. We can read about it all day long in stories from 2,000 years ago but when it's right there in your home, it's very real and painful. Not only were we setting the wrong example for our boys, we were advising them to turn from ‘those’ kids. Matthew 5:38-42 tells us to ‘not resist an evil person…..’ This is the simple, ‘Love your neighbor’ lesson and we’re essentially telling them to do the opposite. Shame on us.

This morning D1 sat d1 down at breakfast and explained to him that Mommy and Daddy were wrong. He explained to him that, although his friends were not treating him kindly, we should pray for them and show them love through our words and actions. After all, we don’t know their hearts. What if these are opportunities for our children to witness to these other little boys, to demonstrate the love of Jesus during playtime? What if they’ve never heard the Good News? {Which, PS, is quite possible - not all Greenville County schools allow 'The Good News Club' in their schools and that is LUDICROUS but that's another topic for another day. I might be ready to organize a protest....} My point is that the playground could absolutely be their own little mission field. Envision that. Are you smiling? Because I am.

I’ll admit that, at first, D1 felt more convicted about this than I did. Yes, I knew it was wrong but in my selfish little mind, I justified it. After all, I was only protecting my child. Isn't that what a mother does? We birth, feed, bathe and protect.....and then some. I'm not saying that I think protecting my child was wrong but 1) we approached it entirely the wrong way and 2) I can’t always be there when that happens again and it will happen again. What I can do is work every day to equip him with the right tools to handle these situations, instead of teaching him to run away from them. These are the situations I should be praying to happen, just so I have the opportunity to teach. Instead, what should have been a relevant life lesson on forgiveness and prayer ended up a poor example of hypocrisy and bitterness.

I also think my faith was tested and I received a big, fat (F)ail. When my child is hurt, I hurt. I want to fix it. I want to hurt the one that hurt mine and that’s human. This is where I’ve got to stand on my faith. I’ve got to practice what I preach. There is nothing Christ-like about retaliation. We are called to be set apart, to walk the narrow path and have faith that God will comfort and protect us. We sing, ‘If our God is with us, then what can stand against?’ and I believe it but are my actions reflecting that belief? Uh, negative.

True, in the end, we {fine, D1} were able to salvage this moment and turn it into a teachable one for the kids but one thing is for sure. d1 taught us a lesson without even knowing it. When he said, ‘I don’t care. They’re my friends,’ I believe that’s what Jesus says about us. Everytime we sin, which is a daily struggle for me, He doesn’t turn his back on us, just like we don't turn our back on our children. I believe he says, ‘You are forgiven – yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever. Now, let’s work on that problem together.’