Share a moment with my 12-year-old son with you.
He and I had a lovely day, we trained home, it was late, and we were tired. We got in the car, and I asked him to take his feet off the seats, he complained, and wouldn't. It escalated, so I pulled over, so he could open the door and untangle himself from his bag, amid loud tantrum wailings. I decided an apology for rudeness was in order (probably the mistake) and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, it was getting dark, no apology forthcoming, so we drove home, and I hotly suggested (sigh) that he go to his room until he's ready to apologise. So he took off. The younger son upset, went to his room - I don't like it when you fight...
What now? Many uncharitable thoughts of locking him out, bed without dinner, etc. ran through the mind as the time ticked away, self-justification, etc. All escalation, not resolution. What would I do when he returns? Decided to unlock the door and ignore him, show him how running away wasn't going to affect me.
Lord, what would you do? Darn it, as I prepared bosyenberry toasties (he won't get any of these!), He reminded me of the prodigal son and his father. Maybe the prodigal and his father were always clashing and it seemed like the only solution at the time. Many run away, and think no-one cares, not realising parents are angry, but also pacing the house, waiting.
The father welcomed the prodigal home, showered affection and relief on him... Lord, I can't do that! He'll think he can do that again to manipulate me...
Just try. As an experiment.
So, when the front door opened quietly, I walked to the door, and gave him a hug (not open-heartedly, but it was a hug). Told him (oh how gently the words came out(!)) how worried I was (leaving out the revengeful thoughts), and so glad that he was home, wondering if he'd been hurt, not knowing where he was. Tears filled his eyes, said he'd walked to the shops, got as far as the Auld's place (about 1km). (Inside, I was shocked, I thought he was sitting coatless out in the orchard, not walking down the open country road in the dark with no footpaths!) No mention was made of the earlier fight, just held him a little longer. Then said I was making special boysenberry toasties, yes, he would like some, and he meekly sat at the table. Younger brother came over to me and I whispered I was giving his brother a treat. He asked if he could too, and picked out his favourite chocolate biscuits (three!) from the tin, and only had a plain biscuit himself....!
Submission to the Lord's whim
- instead of continued shouting and further punishments,
a blossoming of the sweetest surprising love in us all...
And a little later, duirng washing up, he quietly stood beside me and said sorry, he probably didn't have to make an argument of it... All that was needed was an understanding arm round the shoulder, and he set up his homework on the dining room table.
Just wanted to share - the magic of what seems like an impossible request from the Lord....
He and I had a lovely day, we trained home, it was late, and we were tired. We got in the car, and I asked him to take his feet off the seats, he complained, and wouldn't. It escalated, so I pulled over, so he could open the door and untangle himself from his bag, amid loud tantrum wailings. I decided an apology for rudeness was in order (probably the mistake) and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, it was getting dark, no apology forthcoming, so we drove home, and I hotly suggested (sigh) that he go to his room until he's ready to apologise. So he took off. The younger son upset, went to his room - I don't like it when you fight...
What now? Many uncharitable thoughts of locking him out, bed without dinner, etc. ran through the mind as the time ticked away, self-justification, etc. All escalation, not resolution. What would I do when he returns? Decided to unlock the door and ignore him, show him how running away wasn't going to affect me.
Lord, what would you do? Darn it, as I prepared bosyenberry toasties (he won't get any of these!), He reminded me of the prodigal son and his father. Maybe the prodigal and his father were always clashing and it seemed like the only solution at the time. Many run away, and think no-one cares, not realising parents are angry, but also pacing the house, waiting.
The father welcomed the prodigal home, showered affection and relief on him... Lord, I can't do that! He'll think he can do that again to manipulate me...
Just try. As an experiment.
So, when the front door opened quietly, I walked to the door, and gave him a hug (not open-heartedly, but it was a hug). Told him (oh how gently the words came out(!)) how worried I was (leaving out the revengeful thoughts), and so glad that he was home, wondering if he'd been hurt, not knowing where he was. Tears filled his eyes, said he'd walked to the shops, got as far as the Auld's place (about 1km). (Inside, I was shocked, I thought he was sitting coatless out in the orchard, not walking down the open country road in the dark with no footpaths!) No mention was made of the earlier fight, just held him a little longer. Then said I was making special boysenberry toasties, yes, he would like some, and he meekly sat at the table. Younger brother came over to me and I whispered I was giving his brother a treat. He asked if he could too, and picked out his favourite chocolate biscuits (three!) from the tin, and only had a plain biscuit himself....!
Submission to the Lord's whim
- instead of continued shouting and further punishments,
a blossoming of the sweetest surprising love in us all...
And a little later, duirng washing up, he quietly stood beside me and said sorry, he probably didn't have to make an argument of it... All that was needed was an understanding arm round the shoulder, and he set up his homework on the dining room table.
Just wanted to share - the magic of what seems like an impossible request from the Lord....
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