It's really a gift.
"Why can't those kids manage to brush their teeth in the same room without ending up in a stabbing match?" I ask in exasperation.
And then in the mirror of their petty squabble I get a picture of myself getting my feathers ruffled in the not-so-distant past by some fellow tooth-brusher in the bathroom of life. I have wanted to stick my Plak Smacker in certain people's eyeballs more often than I'd like to admit.
How is that so different than my hair-trigger youngsters fighting over the Dixie Cups every night of their lives?
And that time that I used subtle flattery, triangulation, and big, dewy eyes to get my own way in a relationship? I just watched the same technique being used by a five year old to win a coveted cookie away from his little sister.
He got the cookie with her blessing.
She didn't notice the bait and switch.
Everyone is happy, so no harm, no foul--right?
No harm except the fact that selfishness became its own reward, and a child learned better how to hurt people and make them thank him for it. Could that be what I have become adept at doing sometimes with the hearts of the people who trust me?
Earlier this week I caught a wronged party audibly laughing over the fact that his sibling had been put in time out for taking his toy. How cold! How unloving!
Except that it sort of reminds me of that inner exultation that pops up when I hear of an irritating or destructive individual who has finally gotten his just desserts.
"Hey," I say to myself, "it wasn't me that doled out the justice, so pardonnez moi if I throw this tiny party in my heart over his well-deserved misfortune."
How is that any better than snickering as your brother gets hauled off to the woodshed?
(Disclaimer for any stray social workers who might be reading: That was strictly a figure of speech. Per the agreement we signed in blood, sweat, and tears, we strictly adhere to the agency-authorized list of hilariously ineffective and impotent disciplinary techniques allowed to foster parents. Furthermore, we affirm that no unorthodox or unsanctioned methods of discipline involving "hauling" or "wood" or "sheds" were used at any time prior to or during the writing of this post. Nor will they ever be.)
Sorry about that. One can't be too careful.
Somehow when I watch my children giving in to their baser instincts, my own don't seem as suave and innocent as they felt when I was following them.
Which brings me to the point of this post. Let's just say we had a mini-reenactment here this week that was every bit at loud and sticky as the original Gettysburg, but when the smoke cleared and the reenactors had gone back to playing with squirt guns, I was left with the realization that I had fought in the original battle.
With live bullets of bitterness and arrows of anger.
Over the past three years, I have expressed some attitudes toward our foster children's birth mother that were not sanctified. Some I fear I have shared too publicly. Some I have nurtured privately. Some I repented of. Some I kept like pet skunks.
Now it appears we are going to be able to adopt the little ones who have become so dear to us, and we are amazed! Thankful! Full of plans and prayers and praises--as we should be!
And what of their mother? Well, suddenly I am all compassion. The anger and resentment are gone. I have been a wellspring of sympathy and kindness for weeks--and feeling a little proud of it, if I am honest.
That is, I was. Until I saw one of my children growing a gigantic weed of bitterness toward a sibling. It was choking out the light--and then one day, when that child gained the upper hand (caught a little success while the other floundered) the weed was miraculously gone! Amazing!
Familiar.
Actually, identical.
Funny how I too was transformed into Lady Lovejoy just as I "won the round" with the children's mom.
Has she changed?
No. She is as needful of love, mercy, and forgiveness as ever, it is just that now I am willing to freely give it.
Like the winner of a race who is suddenly able to list the all the strengths and virtues of her vanquished opponents, I am seeing how easy it is to be magnanimous when you have been given your heart's desire!
It is natural to dispense grace when your basket is full of every good thing. How much more a kindness means when it comes from empty hands--like loaves and fishes appearing where there should be none.
Now, I am not saying I was 100% mean over the past three years. There were moments when I think I let the love of Christ dwell in me.
But there should have been more, and the next time I am left holding the short straw in a relationship, I hope I will spend less time publicly stewing, and more time allowing God to show me how to really love while I'm losing.
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Proverbs 19:11
A person's wisdom yields patience; it is to one's glory to overlook an offense.
Proverbs 25:21
If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink.
John 13:34
"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me,'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."
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