I make lots of Mistakes. Every single day. If I didn't, then what would have been the point of Jesus dieing on the cross? Some mistakes are big, and some are small. Some only I know about, some are obvious to others, yet all are seen by God. I cannot hide an action, thought or sigh from Him. Sure, I can hide them from my children, my husband and friends, but that isn't what matters. What matters is what God sees. When I confess these mistakes to God I am forgiven. Forgiven by Him, but not by the person whom I have wronged.
Yesterday Lula Mae had a great day. She woke up singing, used her manners beautifully, obeyed diligently, helped out when she was asked and loved with all of her heart. She did amazing with her school work, read to Jayce, gave him his paci when he cried, shared with me and ate every meal without complaining. It was a great day for us all. Then, about 10 minuets before bed it all came tumbling down. The servants heart that she had all day turned into a bitter one. She refused to have her night time diaper put on (spanking #1), she whined about brushing her teeth (spanking #2), she cried about giving her book to Daddy to be put away (spanking #3), She refused to pray with us (spankings #4,5,6,7,8,9,10, and possibly 11). After about 15 minuets of spanking, trying to talk calmly and whispering reminders of making God happy when we pray, she yelled in my face (something she has never ever done before). I forcefully grabbed her, put her in her crib, we left the room and slammed the door. I left her screaming and crying because, at that moment, I was afraid of what I might do. Not hurt her physically, but quite possibly emotionally. I just need to get out. I needed to get away from the moment. I felt horrible. I don't like making prayer time a battle field, but sometimes we do have to force her to pray. Do we like to? No. But we are determined to teach her that prayer is important, as well as listening and obeying. I feel as though the nights when prayer is a battle that it is really just Satan trying to defeat me. He is using my sweet little gift from God against me, trying to break my spirit and cause me to give up.
After leaving her room, I washed the dishes in a very vigorous manner. I got out all the frustration, anxiety and nervousness I had. I prayed. I prayed hard. After a few moments of listening to God, I knew what needed to be done. Lula Mae was almost fast asleep, her room was quiet except for her music playing. We went back in and picked her up out of her bed. We hugged her tightly and kissed her. We quietly told her that we loved her very much and that we were sorry. We placed her back in her bed and covered her up. I stood there, looking at her sweet face, and told her that I loved her, and that God loved her. She looked back at me and smiled,"I love you too Mommy." Instantly I felt better.
How can I be so terrible to her? She loves me unconditionally and I take advantage of that. How am I worthy of these blessings? I left her in there alone, scared and confused. I broke her sweet innocent spirit. It was so very wrong of me. I know I make mistakes, but I am learning how to correct them. I am learning to ask forgiveness. I am learning to be a better Mom, Wife and child of God. I can tell you, I have a long way to go.
Never go to bed angry, especially at your children. Never should they go to bed with even a shadow of a doubt about how much you love them and care for them. My children are my "reward" from God and I need to treat them as such.