I’ll love you enough to lock horns

I took a deep breath. Patience. This child’s attitude was awful, but I knew there were plenty of contributing factors. New braces. Sore teeth. Just mush and liquids for food for several days. A distinct lack of love for multiplication tables in general. Sun outside and a world awaiting that she’d much rather explore than prepare for state testing. I totally get it.

But attitude is attitude and sass is sass and there’s no room for either in a Godward heart. 

I sent her to her room, some space for us both, laid my head on my folded arms, closed my eyes and the desperate heart-cry that every mama knows:

Father, please help me.

Because there’s no getting around it: Diligent parenting will bring conflict and there are so many times I’m tempted to avoid it at all cost. Forget it. No big deal. Let it go. And I get that not every hill is worth dying on — oh, do I get it — but some hills are, especially the ones that deal with the heart. Avoiding conflict to save myself time, trouble, irritation, and effort is nothing more than selfishness.

I remember years ago reading a parenting book, and a father explained:

“I don’t spend much time and emotional energy training my dogs. Why? Because honestly, I don’t care that much. I like them, but they’re dogs. I will spend endless time and emotional energy training my kids, because I do care that much. They’re my kids.”

That idea always comes back to me when I’m tempted to shrug my shoulder or look the other way, when I’m just too tired to take one more training moment.

She shuffled out. Sincerely apologized. This one, her heart’s so soft. And I explained how desperately I love her, and will do the hard thing to help rid her of any habit, attitude, tendency that will cripple her later on.

I love her enough to lock horns.

This morning, Dutch greeted me with this Mother’s Day card.

It was just a blank card he’d found and written in. His handwritten message was precious, but what struck me was the picture. I’m pretty sure the significance was lost on him, but it most certainly wasn’t on me:

Two elk, locking horns. 

Oh sweet boy, yes. That’s us, sometimes, isn’t it?

That’s us when you want your way but I know in the end it’ll lead to death. That’s us when I care enough to correct, gently, lovingly, firmly. That’s us when we’re trying to understand each other.

My promise to you, my children: I will love you enough to lock horns with you.

I’ll engage even when I’m tired. I’m listen when I have little left. I’ll challenge you when it’d be so much easier not to. I’ll insist on obedience because I know that in the end, that will serve you better than permissiveness. I love you enough to not just let you have your own way.

I’ll love you enough to lock horns with you.

It’s easy to snuggle, curl up with a movie and relax together. It’s easy to be mommy when the sun is shining on our faces and you look adorable and we’re licking popsicles.

It’s hard to follow through on chores and heart-checks. Hard to teach long division and common denominators and hard to insist on excellent work when I want so badly to just let it go this one time.

But my beloved children, both born and unborn: My commitment to you this Mother’s Day, is that I’ll love you enough to lock horns. Prayerfully, thoughtfully, gently, kindly, firmly. I love you enough to not just let you go your own way. You’re worth fighting for. When I’m weary and want nothing more than to rest. I’ll believe what God’s Word promises:

Discipline your son, and he will give you rest; he will give delight to your heart. (Prov. 29:17)

Someday, I will rest. Today, I’ll love you enough to lock horns.

{To you Mamas, be encouraged. The work is worth it. Don’t give up! Thanks for reading.}