Friday, February 15, 2013

{day two} at the foot of the cross I lay down toddler tantrums...

In the blink of the eye, the terrible two's come storming in with all their melt-downs and head-spinning and foot-stomping.  Leaving you to wonder, where on Earth your precious baby went?

You stand amazed {and perhaps a bit embarassed} by the behavior of your once-so-sweet child.  You wonder how in the world you are going to survive this.  And then you think, if the teen years are any reflection of this, go ahead and commit me now.

The incessant whining.  The limp-as-a-noodle arms and legs and back.  The head-spinning, soup-spitting, monster-acting tiny body. 

And then, with the snap of your finger.

The sweet talking, tight squeeze hugging, I-love-you telling, blue-eyed sweetness.

It's near enough to leave you with whiplash.

Twice this week {THIS WEEK}I have had to leave work and go to her school to discipline my child.

Slapping, pulling hair, pushing.  Oh, let me please not forget the yanking pacis straight from the mouths of babes, hurling them across the room, and laughing as the frightened friend cries.

Who is this child?  

I wonder as I make the trek across the parking lot from my office to the school.

Where did my sweet girl go?

Is she really carved from my DNA?

Is this some sort of joke?

Perhaps it's not nearly as bad as they are telling me over the phone?  Perhaps I'm imagining much worse than it is described?

But no. 

I have the displeasure of watching from a window as the paci bandit evokes her terror. 

I want to curl up in a ball and hid under the miniature table.  I want to run back to the safety of my office and pretend my eyes never saw such behavior.  I want to melt under the heat of accusing eyes, telling me that I'm not fit to train up this child in the way she should go. 

I spent the better part of the week worrying over my parenting skills.  Maybe I'm really not meant to teach her proper behavior?  Maybe I'm not cut out for this mothering stuff, after all?

I mean, what mother leaves her office, storms across the parking lot, and disciplines her child {not once, but twice} for not-nice behavior?  Surely they must think that I'm a horrible parent?  Certainly they think we let this sort of thing slide at home?

At the very beginning of this year, I claimed Psalm 51:10 to pray over my daughter.  However, it was only this week that I began praying it out loud over her.  So, I find it not the least bit ironic that this would be the very week that the terrible twos would barge right in and take over.

I mean, isn't that exactly how the Enemy operates? 

The minute we claim Truth over our lives or the lives of others is the exact moment that we sense the attack, right? 

Today, I'm laying the worry of the toddler tantrums and whether I'm capable of handling them at the Cross.  I believe that He who called me to this place is faithful.  And I believe that He will give me the wisdom to navigate these choppy waters as my daughter learns to exert her independence and explore her personality.  And I still claim Psalm 51:10 over her heart. 

'God, create a pure heart in me,
Give me a new spirit that is faithful to you.'
Psalm 51:10

What Truth have you claimed over your life and then felt an immediate attack?

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