Mom Fail #2754

I don’t like failing, and maybe that’s a harsh word for it, but I definitely blew it recently.

On the way to school I had this conversation with Ivan after MANY attempts at helping him with his Bible quiz. “Ivan, do you know your Bible verse?”

“I think so.”

“Can you say it for me?”

“Make a joyful noise…(playing with a toy coin, placing it over his eye and giggling at himself)…”

“Ivan, if you want to fail, that’s fine, but I’m not going to waste anymore of my time helping you, if all you want to do is fail.”

The silence that followed was to be expected. I looked in the rear view mirror after a few moments and saw his eyes, gazing out the window, pooling with tears.

I hurt for him. I knew what he felt like. I waited though. As much as I wanted to ease his heaviness, I also knew he needed to feel his own contempt. I had not yelled, my voice was careful and calm when I had spoken to him. I was serious, but not harsh and I knew that he was upset with himself.

This is what changes hearts, the realization that the choices we make have consequences and we are required to serve those consequences.

Finally I broke the silence with assurance that I was on his side. I handed him the verse and told him that it was up to him. He took my aid with an eager humility and remained focused on the words until it was time to pull into the parking lot.

He also got a great report from his teacher when I picked him up that afternoon. He was cooperative, and did his work on time. Not a strong suit for Ivan.

So…why do I call this a mom fail? It wasn’t so much what I did, it was the realization of my own example that struck me as failure.

As I pulled away I thought, as I often do, how like me he is.

This morning I had to go to my MOPS meeting and I had prepared a craft, a scarf with a handwritten proverb on it, several weeks earlier to display on our bulletin board. I had the instructions, I had everything ready to show them something simple and unique that they could make…except the craft itself.

I looked for over 30 minutes this morning, in every corner and cubbie I could think of and I couldn’t find that scarf. I held the boys up when they were ready to go to school, because I looked again and again in the places it should be and I came up empty.

I had everything else ready for the day. Every little treat, every print out, everything was ready ahead, but I didn’t bother getting the scarf because I just knew that it was in the box upstairs with my MOPS stuff. I didn’t look though, until it was time to go.

I want to lead my kids into peaceful places, to be a tree planted by rivers of water, bearing fruit in season and prospering in whatever they do. Yet, how often am I wandering off in the meadow looking for four leaf clovers instead of preparing myself for my own responsibility? Too often.

Discipline is not about teaching them right and wrong and holding them to it, discipline is living within the parameters of my own responsibility first. It’s setting the example and giving my children the opportunity to observe the fruits of the Spirit in me. Love, kindness, gentleness, etc. with an emphasis on self-control.

I am not only setting the example of being disciplined, I’m showing them what it takes to get there. I’m hoping that even my failures will be useful in teaching them what it is to try harder, to get up again, to do better the next time.