I was doing my regular weekend laundry marathon. I checked
the pockets of my child’s pants and found something unfamiliar to me. So I
asked where it came from. “I don’t know. . .the ground. . .I think it was. . .”
After pressing some more, the truth came out. My child had found it and wanted
it and took it.
My laundry was then interrupted to have a lesson about what
the Bible says about wanting and taking and stealing and lying and what our
hearts need to be focused on and forgiveness. In the end my child wrote a
letter to the person who was missing an object, admitting what had been done,
acknowledging it was not the right thing to do, apologizing and promising it
wouldn’t happen again. The object was returned in the letter.
And then my child did a pretty amazing thing (in my humble
opinion, anyway). My child admitted to doing something similar and wanted to
fix that situation too, instead of leaving it as a “wrong-doing.” Another
letter was written, admitting what had been done, acknowledging it was not the
right thing to do, apologizing and promising it wouldn’t happen again. And of
course, the object was returned in the letter.
And then I gave my child a big hug. I said I had been so
disappointed in the decisions that were made to do wrong, but now it all seemed
to be turned around. Now I was proud of the recognition of the wrong and the
want—the need—to fix it and make things right again.
My husband, watching the whole thing, later told me that he
liked how I handled it. He said that for most people an insignificant object
like the one found in my child’s pants pockets probably would have been
tossed aside by most. He said he appreciated how I took an opportunity to take the “little”
sins and even try to teach the good in those—the ones that are often just
overlooked. I said I was just hoping that our kids would turn out to love,
respect and serve God for the rest of their lives, and that I hoped I was
teaching it well enough. Because to be honest, I was kind of crushed. I didn’t
want to be that mom having the stealing and lying talk with my child that
night. I would have much rather been the one celebrating the good things: the
accomplishments, the achievements, the triumphs.
Maybe God needed to remind me what my job was as a mom,
because the next morning, my other child came out of the room with a little
paper she had been working on.
Oh, did my heart want to burst! So we typed it out, added a
clip art and made it pretty to hang up and be a reminder. And now if I walk
into the child’s room, I get to see this reminder too. . .that those crushing
moments are teachable moments. . .and I better make the most of them. I guess
I’m just going to keep hoping that in whatever I come across, I will be
teaching our kids to love, respect and serve God for the rest of their lives.
