I waited twenty three years

I met my sister in a hospital delivery room. Ironically, it was me in the bed, waiting to give birth.
Yep, laying in a hospital bed with one of those fashionable open to the back gowns, connected to an IV pole & a baby monitor was, in my brother's mind, the optimal time to finally let me meet this new girl he had been dating.
As weird as it was for me, my mind was a little preoccupied but that poor 17yrs old girl who walked into my room was a little more than weirded out. Perhaps it wasn't one of my brother's best choices but it has given us both a story to tell of a relationship I had waited 23yrs to begin. A relationship typified by meeting in a hospital delivery room for the first time.
Having grown up with two brothers & hanging out with predominately guys my whole life, the hole that had existed was quickly filled by this equally tomboyish, no drama or frills, female who instantly became the sister I had been waiting for.
That day, she became known as Aunt ReeRee as my children would have to call her something, right?
Fifteen years of memories swirl in my mind & bleed over into one another but as I was on my way to her house yesterday for our annual sister day, the one day a year these two non-shoppers shop for everything Christmas, the recent memories made overwhelmed me. I cried all the way to her house, a fact I'm sure she was aware of from the streaks of missing makeup when I walked through the door.
My sister loves her family so much that this fall she rearranged her entire schedule to fill in, as needed, with a grandmother who loved her & prayed for her by name, even before she knew what that name was. Sister spent every day she had off providing relief & care to someone, that by today's standards, she didn't have to, a grandmother-in-law.  She would work all day on Mondays then spend each Monday evening with gma, doing a bible study with her, trying to glean all the wisdom she could fit in before we would have to say goodbye. Really though, she was NEVER a granddaughter-in-law, but a granddaughter by all meanings of the word.
As I drove to her house yesterday, I cried because I missed gma. I cried because I wanted to pick up the phone & call her & hear her calming reassurance. Then I cried because I realized that God had given me someone who shared similar experiences this fall & whose heart was broken, just like mine. I cried because I knew as soon as I saw my sister, there would be a peace, a comfort in being with someone who understood where I was because she was there too. I cried because I knew she would talk about gma with me & we would laugh about the snarky things she would say. I cried because I know she'll do it all over again with me when the time comes.
She is my sister. And she was worth the wait.

Today I realized - I don't really like my kids

When I was a little girl, I had one real dream. There was only ever one thing I wanted to do - be a stay at home mom, just like my momma. With four children & the opportunity to homeschool, that dream has come to pass. I hear all the time - I don't know how you do it, I don't have the patience. But what those people don't know is - NEITHER DO I!
Spending all day, day in & day out, with your children causes even the smallest of things to grate on your nerves, at times, like nails on a chalkboard. Add to that a little bit of defiance & a whole lot of disobedience & you have a recipe for a complete & total meltdown.
(Now, before you get this picture of my kids that paints them as little heathens running around all the time with war paint & feathers in their caps, know that we have a very high standard. Still, as all children do, they take advantage of every opportunity they can to push the boundaries & make sure they're still in place.)
Tuesday was my meltdown. Upon arriving to biology, a 20 minute drive from home, it was discovered that, "I forgot my folder (of stuff that was due today) on my bed (AT HOME!)." Forgetfulness & distractions with this particular child are over the top right now but that's a different blog for a different day. What was I to do? Let him take 5 zeroes in a class he's already struggling in? No.
The tears began in the parking lot before the car was even in reverse. "I can't take anymore of this! I hate it. I don't like y'all very much. And I don't even want to be around you." I sobbed as I flipped on the blinker after safely depositing the bio kid.
I fumbled for the cord to connect my phone & escape in my music. My mind kept mulling over & over all of the times my children would say that they loved me then turn around & treat me like they had. I thought about the times when they would sneak YouTube videos instead of the book they were supposed to be reading or that paper they were supposed to be typing. I thought about all the undone chores I would complete & the broken toilet seat from standing on it. I thought about the piles of laundry diligently folded only to end up on their bedroom floors. I thought about arguing & fighting over who's bracelet that was, even though it came out of the dumpster at church. I thought about my newly ordered, never used, now broken Tardis coffee mug. No wonder I didn't like them.
As the tears kept falling & the music kept playing, "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" began with a soft piano playing. In a time when I didn't think I could cry any harder, my shoulders began heaving as I heard a voice begin to speak.
(Great is Thy Faithfulness, O God, my Father. There is no shadow of turning with Thee. Thou changest not; Thy compassions, they fail not. As thou hast been, Thou forever will be.)
"My children do the same thing to Me. But you're really nothing like Me, ya know? You want what's best for them but when your children are disobedient & defiant, what's the first thing you want to do? Run away. You allow their behavior to dictate your own so much that right now, you're really nothing like Me. I want you to be more like Me. Let Me show you how."
And there it was. My analysis of my pity party & the truth I needed to hear all in one. As He often does, God was using my children (& their behavior) to show me what I needed to change. The truth is my current state of martyrdom is laced with impatience, mood swings, very little compassion & a lack of self discipline. As equally as my children's behavior failed to reflect God's character, so did my own.
Desperately needing a break, I spent that afternoon with momma at gma's house. I sat on the floor in front of gma's chair like I had countless times before only this time it was my momma that sat in that chair & listened to me. And cried with me. And reminded me, again, of God's faithfulness.
For my children, reflecting God's faithfulness and mercy means a zero tolerance policy & strict discipline right now. Just as God has done countless times for His own children, Jesus reminds us that He disciplines those He loves. In doing so, He saves them from themselves. Discipline is an act of mercy. So I HAVE TO step up the discipline as an act of love before they get out of hand & fall further into this trap of sneakiness, disobedience & defiance. No more yelling. No more pity parties over having to be the one to do this. No more martyrdom. This is part of my job, my dream job, even though it's the part I hate the most.
For me, God's faithfulness looked a little different than I thought it would after my revelation that morning as my 19yr old pulled me aside before he went to bed with tears in his eyes - "Mom, I heard what you said to Mawmaw today. It was hard for me to listen to you tell her that you're not like God at all. I honestly wanted to run over & shake you. I've had a lot of time the past few weeks to think about some things & one of the things I've thought about is you & dad. How I wouldn't have asked for any other parents. How if I could have picked my own, I would have picked you & dad. You are more like God than you think you are."
As it turns out, I don't like 3 of my children very much right now. And that's ok. Because of the discipline that must follow, they aren't going to like me either. But just like with the oldest, I love them always. I discipline them because I love them.
So that night, after a broken heart, not only the result of my children's actions, but also of my own, God used my oldest to remind me how great His faithfulness is because he sees me for who I long to be. And because he was once their age too.