Charlie and Addie are up getting dressed...Addie in the dark because she doesn't want any lights on when she is waking up. I can hear Shelby climbing out of her loft bed and then it comes...the crying, the moaning, the lamenting. Shelby has seen her clothes and is not a happy camper. She cries and says she doesn't want to wear that...it's a baby outfit...that she wants something else. I get frustrated and tell her she has to get ready and she has 5 minutes to do that. I go downstairs to get the other kids something to eat and get their coats and backpacks on...all the while the queen is still in distress. Ric goes in...tells her if she isn't dressed when he is ready to go then she is going in whatever she has on. A few moments later she is downstairs...in something I didn't pick out and I was so frustrated. Frustrated at her strong -willed personality...how mis-matched she was...how she couldn't just get dressed every morning like a "normal" kid (and for the record I have gone through this with everyone of my kids...so it's obvious I don't raise normal kids)!!
Ric packs them up in his little car and off they go...and I'm still ill with Shelby. About 2 or 3 minutes after they left my dog is scratching at the door to come back in...I open the door and immediately hear sirens. My heart sinks...my stomach automatically is turning...and I panic. My kids school is 1 mile down the road...but it's a crazy curvy road...a dangerous road...and I panicked. I grab my phone and call Ric it rings and rings and then finally..."hello"...I breath a sigh of relief and say "y'all ok??". He said "yeah, I just dropped the kids off what's wrong?". I told him that I had heard sirens and he knew...knew where my mind had gone. Knew what fears had flooded my mind and he just told me it was ok.
I got off that call and just cried. I cried because I was relieved...cried because I was sick of those fears...and cried because all I could think about was "I fought with her over clothes"! My mind had gone to the worse place when I heard those sirens...and I thought about those clothes...that baby outfit that she wasn't going to wear and the feelings of frustration I had in my heart over it minutes before. In that fleeting moment between the sound of sirens and my husband answering the phone...those clothes didn't so much matter anymore...the trivial things were just that...trivial. And I begged God to give me another chance to do it right. To be a better mom...to have more patience...to not worry about silly stuff.
I went about my morning drinking coffee...folding laundry...playing with little man. I sat down to send a few emails and then I read a few of my favorite blogs. I pulled up Lysa TerKeurst, whom I just love, and began to read her blog...and the tears came. She talked about raising our kids to not be good kids...not the kid that has perfect manners and never makes messes...not the kid who sits still and never acts crazy. I wept because I struggle sometimes...with my kids that is. I want them to be good kids...to show respect...to act right...to not make messes...to not get half of their lunch on their clothes and the other half on the floor. I sometimes worry about what others think of my kids and the people they are.
I love my kids...so very much. I know my kids in and out. I love them for who they are...but sometimes I let this "little" sin of pride sneak in and I want mine to be the best...probably, if I'm being honest, to make myself look better. I let go of that yesterday...let it all go. I determined that what mattered most was not how clean they were...or how clumsy they were...or even how strong willed they were...but that they love God and live for him. They sell out, wholly, for Jesus Christ. That they pray for the lost...that they share Jesus with their friends...strangers. That they know God's word and cling to it. That they realize what matters most...even if their clothes are mismatched and they have sticky stuff in their hair!!!
Thank God for sirens...for mis-matched clothes...for my sweet Shelby Jean...for precious women that write blogs. It was a wake up call for sure...one much needed. I will remember what matters most...and it sure wasn't that "baby outfit"!
