One of the Hardest Parts of Parenting

Parenting is difficult, there's no doubt about it. The demands of parenting are unlike any other. Teaching, guiding, correcting, playing referee, and simply just being there and being available; it can get very tough at times. However, at least for me, there is one part that it more difficult than others.

GUILT

 I fail miserably every single day. I lose patience. I get irritated and aggravated. Honestly, I hate repeating myself (and with six children you KNOW that's bound to happen many times over in a day!). I lose my temper. I raise my voice sometimes. Other times I just want to send them all to bed and curl up in a corner and cry. There is no job more emotionally or mentally draining than parenting. 

However, amazingly, my children love me. Their artwork proudly displays this..... little notes to brighten my day.... they hang everywhere as a reminder to me of how much they love me.

The best? Silly children, don't they know? Don't they see? All the times I fail them, all the times they receive what is not rightfully theirs in my frustration and fatigue... don't they see how terrible I really am? Can't they see that I don't deserve their love, their admiration, their appreciation? I am wretched, I am a miserable example of the emotional flesh all rolled into a big hot ball of self-pity and guilt. Are they are so naive that they cannot see my failings, my falterings, my dirty, grimy, filthy self? 

I lose my temper at having to repeat myself for the thirteenth time to an older child who "knows better," and here inside myself I chide, berate, and cut down myself for failing yet again today when suddenly this face that was so recently in tears comes before me smiling with a colorful token.....

"I love you Mommy"

You love me?

You love ME? 

But WHY?? 

I just want to go hide in a corner somewhere, shrivel up, and sob. Why would they love me? Haven't I hurt them enough? Haven't I failed them enough? Are they going to wake up one day with the realization of the stinking mess that I truly am and then hate me finally like I deserve? How can they possibly love ME? 

I don't deserve their love. Not by a long shot. 

Then comes that still, small voice like a gentle autumn breeze.....

"All the times you've failed Me, I still love you with a love that endures forever. Even while you cursed me in your sin, I loved you still. I loved you so much in your stinking, rotten flesh that I sent my only Son, my perfect and holy Son to die a miserable death, to become sin, for your sake, that I might be with you in eternity one day if you only believe and love me back.... don't you remember My sacrifice for YOU?"

Yes, more tears come as this realization hits me hard, hits me deep in the soul where only the Spirit can touch. I am so unworthy. 

I. AM. UNWORTHY. 

This time, though, the echo does not spawn out of self-pity, but rather out of self-realization. I am unworthy. 

I am unworthy of love.

I am unworthy of sacrifice.

I am unworthy of praise, of adoration, of esteem....

I am unworthy of forgiveness. 

I am broken.

I am flawed.

I am at war; a product of flesh reborn in the Spirit.

BUT GOD

Praise God, it doesn't end there! 

"BUT GOD commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)

But God. Words so simple, yet so life changing.

χάρις

(charis)

Strong's G5485:

1) grace

a) that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness: grace of speech

2) good will, loving-kindness, favour

a) of the merciful kindness by which God, exerting his holy influence upon souls, turns them to Christ, keeps, strengthens, increases them in Christian faith, knowledge, affection, and kindles them to the exercise of the Christian virtues

3) what is due to grace

a) the spiritual condition of one governed by the power of divine grace

b) the token or proof of grace, benefit

1) a gift of grace

2) benefit, bounty

4) thanks, (for benefits, services, favours), recompense, reward

Authorized Version (KJV) Translation Count — Total: 156

AV — grace 130, favour 6, thanks 4, thank 4, thank + 2192 3, pleasure 2, misc 7

But God.... but Grace....

 "But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me." (1 Corinthians 15:10)

 "O give thanks unto the LORD; for He is good: for His mercy endureth for ever." (Psalm 136:1)

"But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him...." (Psalm 103:17a)

I've always said that my children have taught me more about the nature of God than any sermon or theology class combined. Here lies yet another instance. 

A raw, open, very real instance.

In myself, I am unworthy in every sense of the word. I deserve rejection, condemnation, scorn. I deserve hell-fire for what I am of myself. 

But God.... thank God for grace, that charis grace, that mercy undeserved and grace beyond all measure. He loved me so much, even in my stinking sin, that He sent His Son Christ Jesus to die for me, to take the sin-penalty and the penalty of the Law upon Himself, to become that price for me, that He might purchase me with His redeeming blood. 

I cannot boast in myself, not at all. I am nothing. I am less than the dirt and worms that I trod upon. But in CHRIST, I find everything that I want to be. 

I find peace. 

I find joy. 

I find forgiveness, 

healing,

strength,

and the courage to stand up, dust myself off, and try one more time. 

I can't be all things to all people, but I know who can. 

I can't be perfect all the time, but I know where to go to find the grace that I need to carry on even after I fail again. 

And again. 

And again.

And yet again.

Love letters from God remind me that even though I fail, and He knows it, He loves me anyway with a love beyond measure and beyond understanding. 

On my knees, I look up, and through the tears, His grace shines like a message in the sky...

Of course my children know that I fail. They see me fall, they see me stumble, they witness my searing tears when I've just simply had enough of me and this troublesome flesh that is my temporary home. I'm human, and they know it, and yet choose to look past it and love me anyway. Praise the Lord for their child-like faith in me. If, in all of my failings, I can find the strength to point them to Christ alone as my source, my provision, my comfort, and my safe harbor, then I will think myself having accomplished much more than I could have ever hoped. 

I don't want my children to see me as perfect, because I'm most absolutely not. I don't want to be a fake mom. That's not what is best for them. What is best for them is real. Real trials. Real struggles. Real tears. Real prayers. Real "I'm sorry," and real reconciliation. I am real, and that means that I am really weak in and of myself, but our God is real, and His love and mercy is real, as is His promised help in times of need if we only ask, seek, knock. We weren't meant to bear this burden of world and flesh alone. He wants our dependence; our child-like faith, love, and complete and utter dependence.

Here I am, Lord. Ugly, unworthy, and unfit. In You, however, I know that I am beautiful. By Your grace alone.

Praise the Lord for Grace.