A quiet moment

IMG_8250-627x470Last night I was overheating again. I know this because Ben told me I was. Apparently me shutting down and falling asleep on the couch, combined with warm weather, means danger Wil Robinson! So off I went to the AC in our room, to read a book and recover.

We have a very small second floor. It has three small bedrooms, and a big hallway that contains a crafting zone, a board game library, and Ben’s desk. One AC in our room serves very well to keep all rooms cool. So last night, after C and M were asleep, we opened their doors to let the cool air in.

T had gotten home late from Little League, and so was getting into bed with the door open, from whence he could see the light from my room, where I was reading. And he wanted to read too.

I can never turn down that little boy who wants to read until he feels sleepy. So, for a while, he was my reading buddy. I sat on my bed reading. He sat on his bed reading. It’s a small place, so we could see each other, and I loved it. Glancing up from my book and seeing those gangly legs on the top bunk, those arms grasping the giant book he had chosen. Every so often he would read aloud and I would hear how far he has come this year.

Then it was “one more book” time, and for that he snuggle up right next to me, I couldn’t resist any longer. He read Tiny Bear’s Bible and cuddled up with me. He told me how nice this room was, how nice and cool, how nice my blankets were, how comfy he was. Then I tapped him on the head and sent him back to his bed. He was asleep in less than a minute.

Twenty minutes before this beautiful scene, he had been benched at Little League, by his coach, who happens to be his dad. His behavior at Little League vacillates between passable and deplorable. Tonight was beyond deplorable.

He is chastised. He feels remorse. He moves on.

It’s that simple to him. When he does something wrong, we deal with it, he accepts it and he moves on. Now to a six year old, moving on more often than not looks like forgetting and repeating the same behavior, but I am promised that at some point it will stick.

He is chastised. He feels remorse. He moves on.

He forgives himself, because he knows that we love him. He moves on, because he knows we will always be there. He is a repeat offender, because he has no fear that we will stop loving him, but also that we will keep helping him to get it right. He is confident in our love and our parenting. He knows we will catch him, he knows we will rebuke him, he knows we will forgive him.

I beat myself up all the time. I swore again. And again. And God doesn’t like profanity right. I don’t even like profanity but I use it. I was envious again. I gossiped again. These are not lesser sins, it’s all the same thing in his eyes.

And with my words I know that he still loves me. With my words I know that he will always be there. Even with my heart I know these things. But in the pit of my stomach, in my body language, do I still think that there is something I can do, some line I can cross that will make him turn away from me. Make him say “Everyone at the cross but Sarah, she’s just too far gone.”

My son is chastised. He feels remorse. He moves on.

I yearn for the confidence in my God that T has in me.

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