Humility

Having a child has challenged me to look humility in the face literally on a daily basis. I get frustrated with my little boy’s strong-willed nature and find myself having to negotiate the simplest of things. I abhor poor table manners where he’ll leave in the middle of dinner just to get a toy. I struggle with patience when bedtime becomes a long, drawn out ordeal that leaves a sour taste in my mouth at the end of the day. Children are hard work and they challenge every bit of patience and understanding I have in this mortal body.

It was a battle to eat lunch today. We bartered on how many more bites he’d take. I swear, he’d eat one bite and say he’s full. Drives me crazy. But he didn’t starve and he continues to grow well. I have to constantly remind myself of that. Loosen up. Loosen up.

Today has been our first real snowfall that has stuck to the ground. Last night at bedtime, the little boy prayed to Jesus for it to snow. He was thrilled that THIS time Jesus said yes. So after our lunch in the trenches of the battlefield, I helped my boy get all bundled up to play in the blanket of snow that called his name. I smiled as he was shaking with excitement at the mere thought of playing in the white stuff. I knelt down, zipped up his jacket and planted a kiss on his forehead. In reply, he wrapped his arms around my neck, squeezed tightly and whispered in my ear, “Mama, I love you bigger than this house…..bigger than this world…..bigger than all the power lines on the whole earth.” And that’s when I felt humility slam in the face once more. BAM! This morning was a battle, lunch was a battle and the day was not even half over…….but my little boy clearly loves me. In this moment he thinks I’m the best mom ever, even though I do not feel I am.

I am often amazed at my son’s ability to forgive and forget so easily. Ok, so he needs to work on the obedience piece of being a kid, but in the same breath, his warm heart is quick to love. And then humility stabs at my heart once again when I realize I really should be more like my child. When he says he’s sorry he means it, no strings attached. I can be angry with the choices he has made but he’ll still hug me at the end of the day and ask for a snuggle. I wish I could do what he does. With all the people in my life who hurt me, I wish I could extend forgiveness and grace as my son does. I am learning. I am working on it.

Being a child is as innocent and fresh as the white snow that is falling to the ground as I type. Children look over our adult flaws just as the snow covers the imperfections of the cold ground beneath it. I wish I could be more like that. Today I’m praying for a change of heart. Lord, make my heart more child-like in your eyes.