a life lesson

When Mills and I got home from school today, we snuggled up and started our naptime routine.  But, he just seemed off.  Once I read a list that was something like “Questions to ask your kid so they learn how to communicate otherwise they will grow up to be a big-fat-jerk and fail at life.”

I’m pretty sure this was on that list.  “Did something make you feel sad today?”

His face burned red and his eyes filled with tears. 

(Who knew?? These lists actually work!)

“I pushed Emily today.” 

“You did what??”  I launched into the third degree.  Obviously he’d committed AT LEAST a Class C misdemeanor and I needed to take ACTION.

I was prepared to dole out allllll the life wisdom and set him straight. (or not.  But you’d better believe we won’t have people think we house a push-er under this roof.)

And then I looked back down at my son. 

He smelled like grass and cheese indicating he is a big boy, but his cheeks were all puffed out and that reminded me he is just a BABY.  And I went with that.  I wrapped my arms around him and squished him up to my face and began to tell him that he is so loved.  We talked about how we all make mistakes and the best we can do is try better next time. Enormous tears rolled down his beautiful face and I reminded him he is a good friend and a caring boy.  He picked his head up and said, “I not, Mama.  No I not.” And then he dropped that sweet head down in shame.

In that moment, a few things happened. 

My heart shattered in a billion pieces and I could not take a deep breath because everything was all tight and squeezy inside.  I should be feeding him a bottle right now, not talking about real-live STUFF.

I wanted to personally track down Emily and push her EVEN HARDER for making my child feel this way. (you know, because he pushed her.  #rational)

And, I got a glimpse of how God may feel about His children. 

So...I spent the last 3/4ths of my life thinking God was this stern angry-ish executive-type and generally unconcerned with me until I screwed up.  When I DID blow it, I pictured His blazing eyes burning down from above as he face palmed and said to the heavenly hosts, “Yall! Seriously?  This girl is a train wreck.  Please remove her from my line of vision.”

Until today.  Today, when my child cried over hurting someone else, I felt love.  That is all.  I was so proud of him for telling me his story.  I was overwhelmed with sadness in the wake of his pain.  And also, I wanted nothing more than to help him. 

And if I, with every single flaw and limitation known to man, responded that way… well, I may have this whole, angry-stern-God thing completely wrong.

Mills asked to paint Emily a picture tonight.  I watched him swirl the colors around and move out from under the burden of the day.  And it was beautiful.