Motherhood is Humbling

Everyone has triggers and mine right now is when my kids kick their bedroom door during naptime. It drives me insane. This is the time of the day that is supposed to be quiet. No noise. Just me sitting down for the first time that day, alone with my own thoughts, resetting for the afternoon stretch. 

I've talked with Elle + Jude a thousand times about the door issue, explaining how it's inconsiderate to the other people who are sleeping in our house. How it’s disrespectful to our home and how we are called to take care of our things.

But here I am again. Standing in Jude's room ready to put him down for a nap, hearing Eleanor in her room kicking the door. Over and over and over again. Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Filled by the spirit of annoyance, I walk into Eleanor’s room ready for another talk. 

“Eleanor, it is wrong to kick the doors in our house. Remember?”
“I didn’t mom.” 

Ugh. Why does lying start so young? I take a deep breath, willing my voice to sound less angry than I feel. 

“Eleanor, we should always tell the truth. Do you remember what that means? The truth is saying what actually happened. Can you tell me the truth?”
“I didn’t kick the door mom.”
“Sis I heard you. You know you can always tell me the truth right? I won’t be mad at you.” 
“Okay....”
“So did you kick the door?”
She mumbles something quietly. 
Giving up I say: “Well let's just try to be gentle. We’re called to take care of the things we own okay?”

I walk out of the room wondering if she took anything away from that conversation, wondering if I'm doing any of this right. 

As I go to the living room to sit down I see Selah playing on the floor where I left her—happily kicking her legs up and down, up and down on the floor. Bang. Bang. Bang.

As I'm putting this whole situation together and seeing the truth of what actually happened, a wave of guilt washes over me. I think about how I just made my daughter confess to something she didn't even do and I feel like the worst mom in that moment. 

But I know I still have a choice, and it takes every ounce of my willpower to lay down my pride and walk the long hallway, back to Eleanor’s room. I open the door and see her laying in bed reading books. 

“Elle can I talk to you?” I say as I sit down on her bed. “I am so sorry, I made a mistake. Remember how I blamed you for kicking the door? And how I made you say sorry? Well...I just realized it was Selah, not you. I’m so sorry for not believing you. Mama made a mistake.” 

Elle's silent for a second, and then looks at me and says “It’s okay mom. Sometimes I do that too.” 

I swear to you I wanted to cry and laugh right there on her bed. What a sweet moment of God's grace. For ME, the mom. I kiss her head and as I leave the room I pray “God thank you. Thank you for grace in moments when I mess up. Thank you for compelling me to get off that couch and apologize so I could experience your heart for me. And thank you for these kids, who are so quick to forgive and move on. Teach me be more like them.”