It was one of those mornings . . .
It seems we’ve had a lot of them lately. I’ve gone from being mad mama, to hurt mama, to . . . this morning seeing the hurt in one of my boys and my heart aching for him.
He’s in a place I can’t touch. Change has always been difficult for this one. He resists it with temper tantrums and angry outbursts, leveling all hearts in his path when he’s on a rampage. When his sanity returns, we talk through what happened amid lots of cuddles.
This morning, his hurt radiated right off him, pricking me with angry glares. This morning though, it was different.
He worked to not hurl word daggers at anyone else. He didn’t slam doors when he stalked to his room. He lay quietly on his bed, covers up to his forehead. I stayed calm. Played soft music, burned a scented candle.
And I waited . . .
Waited for the boy to come join us for breakfast. When he poured cereal, it splayed across his place mat, which opened up more rage. Back to his room. Repeat.
His hurt causes him to back away from love. From the only way I know to reach out to him—with a hug.
My heart hurts for this tender spirit, and I have no idea how to get through to him to show him he doesn’t need to be perfect to be loved. He doesn’t have to do everything just right. That grace is enough to cover mistakes, to cover sin.
Grace is a beautiful gift he refuses to accept.
That stormy exterior? A cover up for the deep hurt in his heart right now. So I do the only thing I can . . . I pray for him. That God will reach into the hurting places. That He will speak truth to erase the lies in the way the boy will understand and embrace.
This mommy-journey? It’s a painful one some days.
It’s also challenging me to consider how I perceive God. Do I only come to Him when I’ve got my act together? Do I cower in my room when I know I’ve blown it, refusing to accept His forgiveness?
I’m so human.
Thinking I have merit in and of myself to bring before the King of Kings.
It’s hard to embrace the fact that God delights in me. He made me. He knows my strengths and weaknesses. He knows where I’m going to fail and He loves me anyway. He calls me His beloved, His treasure.
I can’t understand this. Why would He see mistake-ridden me as a treasure?
I don’t know. But, only I can make the choice of whether or not to believe it, to embrace this as my identity. Only I can choose to walk in the grace He offers when I make mistakes, and know that He’ll love me through them.
Here’s praying we all come to the place of seeing and believing how God sees us: as worth dying for.
What about you? What do you struggle to believe that God says about you? What’s one truth you cling to that He’s written onto your heart?