Until Sunday.  I don’t know what it was about the service, but it touched me.  I suppose part of it had to do with the youth band playing with such passion, and it reminded me of a time when I felt passionate about God and life.  Another part was the sermon.  Well delivered, yes.  But, more than that – it was the topic that got my attention.  With garbage strewn all over the stage and the lights darkened, the pastor talked about how we gradually allow garbage into our lives and suddenly we find ourselves in darkness.  Now, previously I would have heard a sermon like that and would have associated the garbage with doing things that are bad for you, like going out and partying, doing drugs, etc.  But, God spoke directly to my heart.  The garbage in my life?  Bitterness, hurt, unforgiveness, self-pity.  Granted, those things can be understandable in the situation.  It’s not easy living in a toilet, with pee all around you.  Or having to watch your very own puppy at every second, so that no one hurts it.  Things like that become difficult to deal with.  

But God showed me something about the way I handle those things.  I tend to allow just a little bit of hurt to remain.  After all….after so many purposeful jabs, one is bound to feel hurt, right?  So, I kept a little bit of hurt as some sick, twisted badge of honor.  Look at what I’ve endured! 

Then, I allow myself the privilege of keeping back just a little bit of unforgiveness.  After all….most people would find it difficult to forgive such horrendous acts done against them?  Who wouldn’t find it difficult to forgive a child who wiped their hiney on your sheets, or smeared poop in your bathroom?  Who wouldn’t get frustrated at constant sneakiness, triangulation, manipulation, and plain old meanness?  So, I justified it all.

Until….I knew on Sunday that my backpack looked much like that stage.  Full of garbage.  I didn’t realize what I had been doing, until I felt so heavy that I struggled so much to even pick up my emotional backpack.  I wanted to run away.

God made it clear to me that morning, “You have been running away emotionally.  You need to either completely run away (from everything and everyone – and from My plan), or get yourself back in the game.”  I knew.  My kids weren’t going to change.  That’s just where they are at.  My husband….I love him dearly, but there are times he just won’t understand what I’m going through.  And that’s not going to change.  Men and women are different, and being the mother of wounded kids can be a much different experience than being a father of wounded kids….although both roles can be difficult.  No, it was clear.  Despite the fact that all I wanted to do was to whine to God and make Him change my circumstances, the only one in the scenario I could change right then was me.  And I needed to.  This isn’t how I want to live.

So, I wish I could tell you that when I came home the angels sang and that I was behaving like Mary Poppins toward my children.  But, I did come back a new woman, with a new attitude.  I can’t change anyone but me.  And I need to live the way that I know I should live.  Following God into the depths of human depravity, using His incredible love and mercy to heal what man cannot even begin to touch – the human heart and soul – will not be an easy task.  It’s easy, in the middle of it, to find ourselves elbow deep in muck.  And that’s not fun.  But, God never intended for us to be comfortable – He did, however, say that He would go with us and give us what we needed.  I just need to ask Him more for His mercy, joy (“the joy of the Lord is my strength,” Nehemiah 8:10), as well as His eyes to see my situation as He does.  I am learning.  Hopefully I get better and better at this whole following God thing.  

One thing she said really stuck out to me.  She said, “Sometimes it’s so easy to focus so much on the labels that we forget that these are just kids underneath all of those issues.”  So true.  So many times, we look at our children through the filters of Reactive Attachment Disorder, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Autism, Bi-Polar, etc, that we forget that underneath it all there’s a child.  Granted…..a hurting, scared, angry child, but a child nonetheless.

I am praying God to give me His perspective on my kids this week.  One of those perspectives, I’m sure, has to be…this is a child.  A precious child whom God loves.  Underneath all of the anger, hurt, and awful, mean, ugly behaviors….there’s a kid down there.  Wanting, but not knowing how, to get out and play.  Too scared to.  Too traumatized.  But wanting to.

So often we forget that.  And, I think that because the behaviors usually don’t match up with the age, we assume that they are just working hard to be manipulative.  Many times, when I talk with moms of very young children, the similarities of behaviors and thought processes will be uncanny.  Because of the abuse and neglect, most of our kids emotionally are very young.  While it’s hard to remember, I’m trying to picture a little three year old sitting there in the car, asking me a question he already knows the answer to simply because he did not get his way earlier.  Not easy to do in the heat of the moment, but sometimes it helps shape my response.

The moms who do well with wounded children have developed ways of thinking that don’t follow the norm.  They see beyond what presents itself to the deeper reality.  They see beyond the annoying behaviors, to the red flags begging for help.  They have learned not to take the bizarre behaviors personally, and know that the better they do at their job the more those behaviors may come out for a while.  I want to be that mom.  I know I’m not there yet.  I keep letting myself get to this place of exhaustion, getting completely annoyed with the ongoing jabs and purposeful behavior.  I find myself in need of new perspective.  Don’t we all!?