words from another

For days, hours and minutes when I am sure that I am pretty much the most impatient, unforgiving mother and that no one else must struggle with such sinful responses, this is what I need to remember.

On How Much I Need Jesus

What is not so easy to clean up is my response. I'd like to think that my response to my fifth child- when I saw those beads raining down on the couch and floor- is vastly different than my response would have been to Ella, my first-born, had that same scenario occurred. Surely with more experience as a mother I am less exasperated when those things happen, and was able to respond in kindness, graciousness, and love. Not so much. Most days that's not the case. I'm still me, five children later: a flawed and fumbling sinner who desperately needs to be transformed by God.

So I pray that He would shape me, transform me, and teach me how to train them. I pray that He would soften my cold and hard heart; that He would eliminate my pride and give me humility. I pray that He would show me how to lay down my life- my time, my comforts, my schedule, my way- for theirs. I pray that He would put life-giving words of encouragement on my tongue, that I would be full of gentleness and graciousness and love. I pray that He would root out my critical, fault-finding spirit. I pray that He would fill me with the fruit of His Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Oh, how I pray for those qualities! Because I am none of those things except for Him in me.)