Pivoting Parent
Based on 2 Corinthians 1:3 - 7:
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ. But if we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; or if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which is effective in the patient enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer; and our hope for you is firmly grounded, knowing that as you are sharers of our sufferings, so also you are sharers of our comfort.”
...and this is parenting...
Pivoting Parent
By Chelsea Chatterton
I've never had a temper,
Never really saw it flare.
'Til the Lord gave me a mini-me
With golden, curly hair.
Oh Lord, what are You doing?
I can't even handle me!
And now I deal with two of us?
Genetic mimicry.
She reflects me on the daily,
Contrast in innoscence,
Rebellion overwhelming,
Despair as she repents.
Unmitigated, wiley.
Emotions waterfall.
The spike of pride is off the charts,
Endless chasm for the fall.
Surely there's a lesson.
Easy for me to see her sin.
A sample size of my own heart,
But where do I begin?
To love her well?
To deal in grace?
To shine Your light?
To show Your face?
Credentials, Lord I'm lacking.
Fear I'll never overcome.
Identical sin burden.
My answers count as none.
“Can't stand myself!” I tell Him.
She's as tangled as I am.
“I know.” I feel God's smile.
“This is My perfect plan.”
“Through your child your strength comes.
And wisdom follows too.
The burden's worth the bearing
As she sees Christ in you.”
“But I reflect so poorly.
Sin has covered all my mirrors.
How will she ever find You?
You in me? It's so unclear.”
High highs, low lows. Exhausting.
I struggle hard to really trust.
I've not found the answers.
Not just for her, it's both of us.
I cringe at Your displeasure.
You must tire of my fails.
But to You it's not surprising.
That's why You took the nails.
Not just prone, I'm bent on sin.
I try not, but always do.
This pain, this sin infection,
It's what draws me straight to You.
Without it – I'd not be shaken.
Without it – I'd not be bothered.
Without it – I'd not see my need
To draw nearer to the Father.
Parental mastery evades me.
My confidence has ceased.
And that's just fine, I'm finding out.
More You and less of me.
A vision of what Your wanting.
Not wagging, pointing hands.
A broken, humble, contrite heart
Is what Your grace demands.
No more facing off my daughter.
I'll pivot, side by side.
I'll grab her hand and lead her
To the cross where Jesus died.
For when we kneel together,
When tears unite in flow,
I'll show her by my footsteps
To where we each must go.
She's helping me unload it.
For years I'd grunt and bear.
But as she rode upon my shoulders,
I felt that burden tear.
Tear me down to nothing.
Perfect. Just what I need.
To die to self completely,
To heed the Word I read.
On our knees together.
One grown, one little too.
All our fears and failures
Wiped clean and we're made new.
Not figured out, far from it,
But now I finally know.
I run into the arms of Jesus
Who will never let me go.
Hand in hand, we drop our burdens.
Together lay them down.
A million times we'll do it,
Approach this holy ground.
And if I teach her nothing,
I pray one lesson moves.
No matter how far we've fallen,
We can always come to You.
