“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Cor. 1:3-4 NIV)
It happened again. I’d raised my voice in frustration at not being able to help my overwhelmed child and escalated the situation. I knew it wasn’t helpful. Matching my child in emotional intensity only multiplied problems. I’d started out with a game plan: listen compassionately to my child’s grievance and offer strategies to alleviate the problem. But the issue was that my child wasn’t thinking rationally. They couldn’t think rationally. Their brain was awash in chemicals that only saw failure and difficulty. They couldn’t see that a solution was possible.
It’s easy to know what needs to be done in someone else’s situation because you are outside of the emotions coursing through their body. It’s never difficult to be able to tell what should have been done on the other side of the situation. But when you’re in the middle, you are in lizard-brain territory, and all you want is to be free of these difficult and uncomfortable feelings. So you fight. You fight whoever you encounter with whatever you have. For my child, that was me.
I knew it wasn’t personal, yet I still struggled not to take it personally. Feeling attacked, I fought back. And immediately, as soon as the words—spoken too loudly—left my mouth, I felt like a failure. I’d lost control, something I hate doing.
Awash in guilt, I immediately apologized and wrapped my child in a hug. I spoke calm reassurance to them. I gave voice to their frustration and we were able to move forward, both in our relationship and in solving the inciting issue.
This scenario has been repeated more times than I’d like, but I’m learning. I’m learning not to take their frustration personally, but to offer them a listening ear, open arms, and understanding words. When I can just be there with them and allow them to vent their emotions, they are able to move forward more quickly. All they truly need is my presence.
This is often how I am with God. I rail about my circumstances and frustrations, sometimes trying to place blame at his feet. He is always patient and understanding, taking my abuse and offering comfort. He doesn’t raise his voice in frustration. He offers reassurance and the promise of his presence.
Knowing he will always be there is comforting in itself. I know that he will not give up on me or turn away from me, no matter how bratty I’m being. He meets my anger and careless words with love and acceptance.
Being reminded of my relationship with God encourages and aids me in my role as a parent. I can use my experiences with God to educate me on becoming a more compassionate and caring person for my children.
- I am reminded that my presence is often what is most needed.
Having a predictable, welcoming person to turn to in times of stress is the beginning of my path to healing and wholeness. Knowing I don’t have to deal with it alone, but can draw on the strength and wisdom of another is often just the push I need to start down the path to being made well again.
- I realize that I don’t have to have all of the answers.
I know that God can work everything out for me, but that’s not necessarily what I need. Sometimes I just want to vent. Often, once I’ve cleared my head of negative thoughts, I have a better perspective on what needs to be done and can begin the work myself. My kids may just need a sounding board. To feel heard.
- Even if I mess up, I can repair the relationship and try again.
I’m not saying that God gets it wrong. I’m saying that because I am freely forgiven by God, I have the courage to pick myself back up and start over. I don’t have to continue down the wrong path. That’s what forgiveness and freedom are for. Because I’m not bound to sin, I can choose to go a new way. I can admit I was going the wrong way and turn around. I have enough love and forgiveness invested in my relationships with my kids that they know I am for them, not against them. My mistakes allow me to model repentance to them and offer them the opportunity to extend forgiveness, two things that can be quite challenging for all of us.
My experience as a parent is changing as my children grow. They enter new stages, and I start the learning curve all over again. But I have the perfect example of my heavenly Father to remind me of the type of parent I want to be: a parent who is present, patient, and loving.
Father, thank you for your mercy and forgiveness. Help me to be a source of comfort for my children, especially in their toughest moments. May I offer them the same grace that you offer me. Amen.
Scripture for Reflection
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 Jn. 1:9 ESV)
“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Eph. 4:32 ESV)
Reach for More
Have you responded to your children in ways you later regretted? Know that there is grace and forgiveness for you from God. Model humility and repentance for your children by apologizing and restoring your relationship with them.
@megan.e.byrd on Instagram or writing about life at www.meganbyrd.net.
enjoys reading, writing, traveling, and introverting. She loves nothing better than discovering a wanted book in a thrift store or hiking alongside a river with her family or a good friend somewhere around her home of Asheville, NC. She’s the author of Between Us Girls and can be found chronicling her reading and writing journey
Photograph © Helena Lopes, used with permission
Linda Stoll says
Megan, hi! I so appreciate the verse that leads your thoughtful words. I’m thinking it’s one of my favorite … and I appreciate what you’ve said about the importance of our presence in the lives of others and the joyous freedom that comes when it finally dawns on us that we don’t have all the answers.
Bless you …
Racheal R. Hoaglan says
So good, and so thankful we don’t have to always get it right the first (or second) time.