This past Sunday was Mother's Day. I was spoiled rotten, mostly by my husband since Collin is still way too young to know what's going on. I enjoyed being pampered and although Michael was the one who had to cook me breakfast and pick out my mother's day card, Collin still managed to give me a gift all his own. It wasn't jewelry or clothes or anything with monetary value. It was a lesson. A lesson that taught me that everything I thought I knew about being a mother was wrong!
It all started when we got to church late! When we get to church late it means we have to sit in the overflow. Which meant we were sitting in metal chairs set up on the wooden gym floor. Which meant Collin would have wide open spaces and we wouldn't be able to block him in with the pews. Collin of course knew this and took full advantage of his good fortune. I was determined to get Collin to sit in his seat and when I was met with resistance and the beginnings of a fit I grabbed Collin up and stomped out to the foyer. (I know what you're thinking here, "Who's the child here? You stomped out?" But I assure you that my 3 inch heals on that wooden floor and the force I used to push the door open made for a very intimidating site.) Not convinced? Yeah, neither was Collin. For the next few minutes he cried and squirmed and bucked trying to get me to put him down. I guess he has yet to realize that the person who gave him his stubborn streak was also the one holding him at that moment. So we were locked in this physical struggle, both of us unwilling to give in. And then Collin did something I never expected.
He slapped me in the face!
I was frozen in shock. Did my child just slap me?
As if Collin was reading my thoughts he did it again!
Don't worry, Collin is still alive and well :)
After we both calmed down I headed back down the hall toward the chapel. I was not in the best mood. As we passed a picture on the wall Collin pointed and said, "Jesus." Collin had hurt my pride just 5 minutes earlier and all I wanted to do was stay mad. But as I turned to the picture my son was pointing to I saw that not only was it a picture of Jesus, but it was Jesus holding a child. (Sometimes I swear kids plan these things)
I looked at the picture and then down at my son. For the second time that day I was frozen in shock, but this time it was because I suddenly realized why Collin is my son. Heavenly Father knows how I am. He knows all my imperfections and he knows exactly what I need to become perfect. All this time I had thought that Collin had been sent to me so that I could love and raise him to be a wonderful person. And while that is my responsibility, in that split second I realized that Collin wasn't just sent to me, he was sent for me. I might teach him how to read or teach him what the principles of faith and patience mean, but he is teaching me how to apply them. He's teaching me lessons I might never learn on my own.
I am imperfect in so many ways so my Heavenly Father sent the one person who could help me become perfect.........one day.
If one child can teach so many things imagine what two will do!
I'll either become very saintly or very crazy :)
I'll either become very saintly or very crazy :)
Beautiful post, Casey. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm sure all the saints were at least marginally crazy. It has to come with the territory. ;-)