This day I was determined to get Samuel's room clean. Anyone who knows me knows I despise this task with every fiber of my being. I purposefully do not go into my children's room, because I get so angry at the sight of it. And their rooms get pretty bad as a result of this. I avoid this whole interaction on purpose, because it is always such a horrible one. I just simply can not understand how they let their rooms get so bad so quickly and I hate cleaning so it really is just a negative exchange from every angle. I will be totally transparent with you all it usually means I end up screaming at them the whole time and they usually end up crying. It happens nearly every time and I feel the rage rise up inside me the moment I walk in the room and I can not even truly walk in there without stepping on something. This is not something I am proud of. I actually hate this about myself. I know that I am just tearing them down, but sometimes it just takes over me. It is not often that I act like that, but it is not pretty when I do. Today I wanted it to be different. I do not want my children to be afraid of me in that unhealthy way. I know that only puts walls between us. So this day as I walked into his room that looked like a tornado had ravaged every inch of it and took everything out of it's proper place and just crammed it wherever was most convenient in that moment.
I stopped and...
I prayed....
I pleaded with God to help me not lose my cool with Samuel, because I could tell Samuel has been carrying a heavy burden lately. I knew the last thing he needed was for his mother to tear him down even further than he already felt. I slowly felt the rage leave and I had to consistently choose to remain calm every time another pile of jusk was revealed that needed sorted through. I believe that this adventure took 3-4 hours. They were 3-4 of the hardest hours of my life. As we cleaned together Samuel began to open up to me about the things that have been weighing so heavily on his soul. He opened up about how much he hates being here with all these girls and how he wants to go live with his dad. How he hates being the only boy in the house and he wants me to adopt a brother for him. Anyone who knows my son knows that he can dwell on things and that is exactly what he was doing in this moment. He then proceeded to tell me how much better his dad was then me. And he went on and on about this fact to the point of bringing me to tears. His words could not have been more hurtful. He was not trying to hurt me, but was just sharing what he felt in that moment. And he only gets to see his father a couple times a week and the idea of living with him is better than the reality. The grass is always greener on the other side especially when you are the only boy stuck in a house full of girls. I know all this, but the words still cut deeply. It went on for so long I even told him to go live with his dad and that I would not force him to stay where he did not want to. That statement lasted for all of 15 minutes before I recanted it. Because I just can't entrust his full safety in that environment and I would not be able to live with myself if something happened to him. Samuel then asked me if I meant it when I said he could go and I said that I could not allow him to go there. I told him how much I would miss him if he wasn't here. He thought that things would be less chaotic if he weren't here. And I just responded, "I would choose the chaos over him not being here any day". I think that is what he needed to hear this day. This conversation grew into a conversation about God and asking Jesus into your heart. I asked him if he has ever done that. And he responded no, but that he believes it all. So I asked him if he wanted to ask Jesus into his heart and he said, "yes". So I received the great privaledge of seeing my son give his life to Christ and be a part of it. All because I chose not to lose my cool that day and just work with my son helping him clean his room. He said some of the most hurtful things to me that day, but I would take that any day to see him give his life to Christ. And I am happy that he felt comfortable enough to share those hard truths with me.
As I reflect on this incredible day I can't help but ask myself how many of these precious moments have I missed?
How many times have I allowed my anger to build walls between my children and I instead of tearing those walls down?
It all starts with me. I get so frustrated with my kids sometimes, but the truth is....
It all starts with me.
I need to get the plank out of my own eye before I constantly point out the speck in theirs. I now see the task of helping them get their rooms clean as an opportunity rather than a dreaded chore. And hopefully that will not change.
