When you were newborns and it was all diapers and spit up and naptimes and sleepless nights, the task of shaping you seemed so very theoretical. Those weary days of sacrifice were kingdom labor, to be sure. God used them to begin beating the selfishness out of me and to show you, however small and unaware you were, that you were loved.
To struggle to show you the kind of love that God has shown me is, I believe, one of the primary tasks of parenting. I hope that as I labor to show you love and grace whether you're wonderful or stubborn, hilarious or disrespectful, sweet or exasperating, perceptive or just plain foolish, that your young hearts will begin to grasp what it is to be loved by your Savior.
But as you have grown, it has become clear that what I have to teach you is equally as important. Oh, sweet ones, we have so much to learn together. I will most likely teach you to read, to tie your shoes, to turn off the lights when you leave a room (though that last one might be difficult, as I have yet to master it myself). I want you to be full of character, full of scripture, full of wisdom. But of all the lessons I have to teach you, my dears, there are three things I want you to remember. I hope that all of the other spiritual instruction will find its root in these three things.
I pray, my sweet children, that you would know that
God is glorious. I believe that you're made to discover this. You naturally see wonder in green shoots pushing up through the ground in the spring, the blooming of daisies in the summer, the brilliant colors of autumn, the falling of the first snow as the year comes to a close. And your response to every wonder is "Why? Why, Mommy?" I believe that God wired you to ask this question. It's as if you're begging,
Mommy, will you point me to God? Will you open this beautiful world to me? Will you explain to me the wonders of my Creator? I pray that the Lord would grant me the eyes to see that beauty myself and also the patience to answer your questions with, "Yes little one, your God is wonderful, beautiful and creative."
But not only that, I want you to know that
God is good, He loves you, and He proved it by sending Jesus to rescue you. It's good news, sweet ones. The great and marvelous Creator loves you, makes you new, cloaks you in his grace. And it's because of Jesus. I pray every night that our Lord would draw you into this truth, show you its beauty, and so ingrain it on your heart that it becomes a part of you. I pray that more and more, I hear your little voices repeating this great truth as you did, Ava, a few nights ago. "God loves me even when I do bad things." Yes, little ones, if you are His children, and I pray you will be, your very lives will be covered by his grace.
Lastly, I want you to see that
you need Him. As sweet as you are, as hard as you try, you will always, always, need Jesus. You cannot be perfect, but He already has been for you. He gives you what you could never earn--forgiveness and favor bought by the blood of Jesus. It doesn't mean that you are free to do whatever you want, my loves. That grace will set you free to new life and will give you a new heart. He will guide you to change and grow by his Spirit, but this process is lifelong, and you will always need his grace. I pray that as we discipline you, you will see not that you need to be better, but that you need
Him.
It's a little scary, thinking that someone who grasps these truths as imperfectly as I do could be entrusted with imparting them to you. But I believe that God ordains imperfect vessels to accomplish his purposes in the lives of ones so precious as you. So we'll learn his grace together when you fight with one another, when I lose my patience, when this house is less than a vision of peace. He will remind us of His gospel, and we will preach it to each other. May we be faithful.
I love you, dear ones. More than you can know.
Mama