Hot Water Fights

Ivan is dramatic. The smallest stubbed toe is a traumatic event and I question each cry, scream, yell, whimper and meltdown.

A scratched knee, a tired boy and a hot shower were not a good mix Saturday night. Kris had tried to adjust the water for him, but Ivan refused to find solace. He wouldn’t speak, he cried. He wouldn’t reason, he whimpered and mumbled. Kris finally ran water for his bath and walked away from him. There was little else he could do without growing too angry to deal with it properly. It was my turn.

I sat down beside the bath and asked him questions. I found out about the scratch that hurt in the water, about water that was too hot, but ultimately I found out that he was angry. He was angry at his daddy for not listening. I knew that Kris had tried to listen and I knew that Ivan hadn’t used words.

I explained to Ivan that when he screams and cries over things it feels like hot water to Kris and I. We are shocked, hurt and we try to stop the hurting.

When he doesn’t use words at all, ignores us or refuses to answer our questions it feels like cold water and we are typically driven away by it.

If he uses words and tries to explain himself, it’s like warm water. We find comfort in his attempt at reasoning, even when we don’t agree.

I asked him if he had used warm water when he talked to daddy or if he had used hot water. He agreed that his communication with his daddy was more like hot water. “Who should you be mad at then?” I asked. With tears in his eyes he pointed at himself.

I helped him finish his bath and then we talked about how to fix the hurts that happen between us.

He was attached to his daddy that night. Curled up in his lap, forgiven, bathed in warm water.

We know words are powerful. A lack of words is powerful too and it identifies a stubbornness in us. Refusal to communicate really is like cold water. It can hurt as badly as spoken remarks.

I know that Ivan has a huge heart. I know that his emotions are not a bad thing, but if he doesn’t learn to control them, they will become an untrustworthy driver in his life. His outbursts need tempering, his sullen moments need coaching. In the midst of these I know who he really is and I want him to shine. One day at a time my job as his mommy is to peel away the cumbersome flesh of self and pride, and reveal to him first what God has created within him.

The question has always been, how to do that. Sometimes it’s long talks over the side of the bathtub, and sometimes it’s handing him responsibility and allowing him to prove to himself how capable and clever he is.

So often parenting is taking the broken pieces of our own heart and shoving them aside in order to redeem the moment we were afflicted. Realizing the enemy takes aim at us, because destroying our resolve is the best way to destroy our children.

“For we do not preach ourselves but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your bond-servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;” 2 Corinthians 4:5-9

And this Word becomes that warmth we all need. Building back what was torn down and forming anew the perspective that needed adjusting.