Ruling My Spirit
He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty,
And he who rules his spirit, than he who captures a city.
Proverbs 16:32
And he who rules his spirit, than he who captures a city.
Proverbs 16:32
Abigail Charis Carmichael, don’t tell me that you picked up the painted pumpkin without asking!
By my cross expression and cutting tone, I’ve forced a look to cross her face that resembles that of a cat with its ears turned backwards. This won’t be the last time, I’m sure. It certainly hasn’t been the first. I dread the scared-kitty look; it immediately pours on the guilt. This isn’t the first shirt she’s smothered in paint today, and this shirt is brand new, a gift from her gra
mmy. We’re in the car, ready to pull out of the driveway, but I’m buckling her into her seat when I make this discovery.
Moments earlier I had prompted her memory of the cherished pumpkin by asking her to tell Daddy what we did today. “We painted pumpkins at Grace’s house,” she giggles excitedly. So on her way out the door, she spots her pumpkin sitting on an old paint can out in the garage (a far-enough-away place, or so I thought, to avoid further painted-pumpkin blouse stains) and hugs it close to her body, bringing the prize up to show her daddy. “See, Daddy. Here’s my pumpkin!” I, of course, don’t know any of this, as I’m still in the house getting last-minute tasks done before we head to Victorville for the evening. All I’m aware of is, when I open the back door to the car, Abby’s new shirt is covered in splashes of orange, green, and red pumpkin paint…again.
After shouting her full name and sending her ears back with my sharp pitch, I quickly remove the shirt and head back into the house to soak it in water and retrieve a new shirt (Shirt Number Three). Stain-removal technologist is one of those patches I’ve been sewing onto my Mommy Scout uniform for the last few years; I’m always on the path for new stain-fighting tricks. While muddling through her drawer for an
other top, I begin to weigh the cost of this blouse against the cost of Abby’s damaged psyche. Is ten dollars worth my child’s lowered self-image?
All I know is, sometimes in my haste to do all the really-needed Mommy chores, I forget to be the Mommy my children really need. I spend most of my time figuring out ways to get back to what I really need to do, when my children are what I really need to do. It’s a shirt, for goodness’ sake. It can be replaced, but her memory of this browbeating maybe never will be.
As I open the door to the car, I hear, “I’m sorry, Mommy.” Daddy and she had words to the effect of asking first before making rash decisions like picking up paint-covered pumpkins. “No, honey. It’s okay. You were excited to show Daddy your pumpkin, and Mommy overreacted. Forgive me.” It’s never too late to ask for forgiveness; this is one lesson my dad has taught me over years of making parenting mistakes. It’s probably the main reason why I haven’t been left emotionally damaged in life. My parents certainly weren’t perfect; they made their fair share of blunders. However, they could always admit when they were wrong, and they knew how to ask for forgiveness.
By my cross expression and cutting tone, I’ve forced a look to cross her face that resembles that of a cat with its ears turned backwards. This won’t be the last time, I’m sure. It certainly hasn’t been the first. I dread the scared-kitty look; it immediately pours on the guilt. This isn’t the first shirt she’s smothered in paint today, and this shirt is brand new, a gift from her gra
mmy. We’re in the car, ready to pull out of the driveway, but I’m buckling her into her seat when I make this discovery.Moments earlier I had prompted her memory of the cherished pumpkin by asking her to tell Daddy what we did today. “We painted pumpkins at Grace’s house,” she giggles excitedly. So on her way out the door, she spots her pumpkin sitting on an old paint can out in the garage (a far-enough-away place, or so I thought, to avoid further painted-pumpkin blouse stains) and hugs it close to her body, bringing the prize up to show her daddy. “See, Daddy. Here’s my pumpkin!” I, of course, don’t know any of this, as I’m still in the house getting last-minute tasks done before we head to Victorville for the evening. All I’m aware of is, when I open the back door to the car, Abby’s new shirt is covered in splashes of orange, green, and red pumpkin paint…again.
After shouting her full name and sending her ears back with my sharp pitch, I quickly remove the shirt and head back into the house to soak it in water and retrieve a new shirt (Shirt Number Three). Stain-removal technologist is one of those patches I’ve been sewing onto my Mommy Scout uniform for the last few years; I’m always on the path for new stain-fighting tricks. While muddling through her drawer for an
other top, I begin to weigh the cost of this blouse against the cost of Abby’s damaged psyche. Is ten dollars worth my child’s lowered self-image?All I know is, sometimes in my haste to do all the really-needed Mommy chores, I forget to be the Mommy my children really need. I spend most of my time figuring out ways to get back to what I really need to do, when my children are what I really need to do. It’s a shirt, for goodness’ sake. It can be replaced, but her memory of this browbeating maybe never will be.
As I open the door to the car, I hear, “I’m sorry, Mommy.” Daddy and she had words to the effect of asking first before making rash decisions like picking up paint-covered pumpkins. “No, honey. It’s okay. You were excited to show Daddy your pumpkin, and Mommy overreacted. Forgive me.” It’s never too late to ask for forgiveness; this is one lesson my dad has taught me over years of making parenting mistakes. It’s probably the main reason why I haven’t been left emotionally damaged in life. My parents certainly weren’t perfect; they made their fair share of blunders. However, they could always admit when they were wrong, and they knew how to ask for forgiveness.
Comments
I love that you quickly asked to be forgiven. So precious.
Also, I can just picture Daddy calmly backing you up (despite it all).
So awesome.
She will not be damaged!
She has a mommy who loves her, and is so concerned with her wellbeing.
She is blessed. :)
I also appreciate how you tie in verses. So powerful!