Disciplining Daffodils.

It was March 13th and there was 6 inches of snow outside. For adults, snow in March doesn’t hold the same wonder as snow in December. But children know no seasons.

Snow is snow and my kids were crazy with excitement.

Not that “crazy” was a new way to characterize them. They were fabulous on our vacation, truly. It was delightful. But, consider — we were on a vacation in Hawaii. It’s not that hard to obey when it’s 84 degrees outside and you’re playing in the sand. 🙂

Back home it was a little harder. They weren’t necessarily disobeying or defiant, they were just wired. Crazy. They giggled and wiggled and spun like tops and fell out of chairs and I kept asking God for patience and consistency to help them get their minds and bodies back into the swing of reality.

Then it snowed.

Like gasoline to a flame is snow to a hyper child.

So after our chores I said yes, we could go outside to play.  Socks, sweatshirts, gloves, hats, boots — they were finally ready and I sent them outside for two minutes by themselves so I could get my own boots and coat and join them.  As soon I closed the door and turned around …

THUD.

Scream.

*Deep breath*

Open the door. Heidi is bawling, snow all over her face. Dutch’s eyes are wide, frantic, guilty.

“I didn’t mean to hit her!”  (Didn’t mean to throw a snowball in her face?!)

I didn’t yell. (Thank you, Lord for grace.) I gathered Heidi up in my arms, brushed the snow off her face. Dutch started walking away to go play in the snow.

Not so fast, darlin’.

The snowball wasn’t malicious but it was foolish. I explained to Dutch that he was not showing self-control, and told him to go stay in his room, in bed, to practice self-control while Heidi and I played outside.

He. Was. Devastated.

Right or wrong method, that was my choice and I could tell it broke his heart. It broke mine too. He’d had his heart set on playing in the snow and Heidi didn’t even care that much about being outside. Snow is his favorite thing. He went to his room, crying, pleading to go outside. I stood still at the doorway, holding Heidi, listening to him cry from his room.

Outside in the snow were Daffodils. 

Daffodils, blooming brilliant yellow on this March day, were buried in six inches of snow. You could barely see their bright faces bowed down low, weighted with snow. Suddenly it was silent and I heard a verse I didn’t know by heart:

“Discipline him while there is hope, do not set your heart on putting him to death.” Proverbs 19:18

Disciplining daffodils. 

I had to do it or they would die. 

I quickly set Heidi on her feet, looked into her confused face: “Trust Mama.” She did. I went inside and grabbed scissors. Returned. Took her hand in mine and led her out into the snow.  We took each weighted daffodil, snipped the stem down low, gathered them in our hands and carried them inside.

The warmth of the kitchen enveloped us. I breathed gently on the flowers, melting the snow, arranged them in a glass vase by the kitchen sink. They still drooped sadly, and I thought it might be too late, the ice had made a few petals translucent, like frozen lettuce. I’d just have to wait and see.

By now Dutch’s room was quiet.

There is still hope; I will not set my heart on his death. I took Heidi back out in the snow.

As we played, he thawed.

Left alone, our children are buried low under the weight of sin. 

Though painful, we must cut those stems and save them. While there is still hope.  If we ignore it, we set our hearts on putting them to death.

I had to save the daffodils. I have to save my son.

After awhile, I went inside. Peaked my head in his door. His tear-stained face beamed bright in a smile, “Mommy, I have self-control!!”  With a tear-filled laugh I gathered him up, smothered him with kisses and told him it was time to go play.

And play we did.

Today, the daffodils are tall and bright. The snow is gone. They were saved.

{Thank you for reading.

Thanks, hon, for taking the picture so I can remember…}