It was 3 pm, the hour of mercy,
when the Little One requested me to read her a story. I knew the risk. I inevitably have to nap
after reading in the late afternoon. This particular day I decided to sit in a
chair to increase my odds of staying awake. Well, I got through half the book
before I was nodding off. She noticed. She said it would be okay to finish at
bedtime. I thanked her and told her I had to rest for a little bit. She
cheerfully said okay and started heading downstairs when I yelled out after her
“Remember, don’t play on the Kindle!” (She had played, watched and read on it her
allotted time already earlier in the day.) She looked back at me and said “I
won’t.”
It wasn’t as restful of a sleep
as I hoped for. It was too quiet. How come the Little One wasn’t doing her
usual singing or monologue while playing with dolls? Hmm? After 10 or so
minutes I decided to head down to take a look, and found the Little One on the
couch with…you guessed it…the Kindle! It
was slammed shut at the first sight of me and she went running away. What could
I do? I told her that since she did something I didn’t want her to do that she
would now have to do something I wanted her to do – which was to help me empty
the dishwasher and fold her laundry.
“No!” she said. Wow. That seemed
bold. I didn’t take kindly to this response. With a huge pout on her face she
began heading to her room to escape the atonement. I took the bait and got into the
power-struggle. I threw out the worst threat –the COUNTDOWN. “If you don’t get
to my side to help me with this dishwasher by the count of 10, then you will
not be having dessert for the next 5 days!” (Yes, I really escalated that
quickly.) She shouted “NO! Don’t count!” paralyzed on the stairs in disbelief
that she would be forced to such a choice. She did not make it…she did not
choose to help me. I started clearing the counters and cupboards of all
accessible candy (Christmas had extremely multiplied the quantities of sweets
in our house). The Little One escaped to her room in tears.
Calmed down, I said a prayer entrusting us both to Blessed Mother, then I went in for a visit. I asked the Little One, “Do you know why I was upset? Do you think it was because
you used the Kindle?” She shook her head “no.” “Was I upset because you didn’t
want to help me?” She shook her head “yes.” Then she rushed into my arms. I hugged the Little One tight. I know that hug was a twofold Christmas miracle – Blessed Mother using my arms to love a child She helped to be contrite.
I am so grateful for this
experience with the Little One. There have been so many lessons for her: She
can make bad choices (we are in day 2 and she’s had 4 melt downs for not being
able to eat sweets); she wants to be the leader (a role her mom and dad were
entrusted with, not her); she lacks trust in her mom (pride takes root so young);
and she has a crucial need for hugs!
There are so many lessons for me:
How often do I tell my LORD “I firmly
intend with the help of your grace to sin no more,” and then leave the
confessional to do just that – sin more?; I have a huge fear of losing control,
which means I totally lack trust in God’s mercy; and, the most important lesson
of all, I need to be in Blessed Mother’s arms constantly when I parent!
It was a good day to discover truth.
In
an unusual way, the parable of the prodigal son depicts the depth of the
twofold truth about God and man. This parable says that God loves you in and
with the actual truth about you. He loves you as you are and not as you should
be. He loves you with all of your muck, filth, grime, and even wretchedness. In
turn, you have to abolish the pedestal of your pride in order to stand in the
naked and acknowledged truth before Him –
the truth that, in this state of
being closed, you are incapable of loving Him, and the truth that you should
constantly receive this freely-given love until a complete change is brought
about in you. Thus you must stand in the truth –
the naked truth. (
No comments:
Post a Comment