School is so hard on kids. Or rather, kids are so hard on kids. Their mouths have no governor to stop hateful words. They lack wisdom to help guide their choices.
The dark cloud followed him home from school today, or perhaps blew into the full scale thunderstorm on the long bus ride from school to home with seventy other kids and one harried bus driver.
He slunk into the house, fire in his eyes and hurt in his heart. A wise mom won’t take it personally, but how often am I that wise?
A few words of anger were blasted toward me. Sometimes I shoot right back, other times I retreat, not knowing what to do. Today, I ignored the words and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
He shrugged it off, but I saw the cloud waver. A verse softly blew into my mind, “A gentle word turns away wrath.” Another round of cutting remarks, but I held onto that promise with gritted teeth.
I climbed onto his bed that night and lay next to him. His heart had softened and he shared his day and the hurtful things that had shredded his feelings. I comforted and consoled and was so grateful for holding my tongue when I could have lashed back.
I want to be more like my Father for whom lashing back isn't considered. Doesn't even cross that holy mind. Comfort and correction are bathed with his consuming love. A love that fulfills and never hurts.
A love I want to know more fully.