My youngest daughter is "that" child. You know, the one who, had she been first, would likely have been an only child. We all adore her, but she is and has always been very, well, persnickety Her birth was premature, and I am fully convinced that she was born feeling rushed and cheated (her twin brother was the one who "kicked" his way out 8 weeks early).
She loves it, right?! |
Tonight was especially dramatic. She wanted her Minnie cup (the one with the UNchewed lid) instead of the princess cup I'd given her. She wanted me to feed her, though when I finally gave in so the rest of the family could eat in peace, she of course refused to eat. And, eventually, realizing that she was simply tired beyond her ability to manage (except in whines and screams), I dragged her and her stuffed bunny, kicking and screaming, up the steps and to bed. As I lay there next to her (not holding her because "it hurts" and "it's gross") and watching her thrash around and tell me it's not bed time, it's not dark, yet, she's not tired, I prayed silently (because when I try to pray aloud with her, she yells at me that she doesn't want to pray, that she's not ready for bed yet).
"Lord, I believe in your perfect plan, but really. You know me. You know I have very little patience for whining and moodiness in my children. I'm not good at coddling...I'm really not. Why is she like this? Why won't she behave and respond to me in a way I understand?"
"Why can't you change her?"
And, just in that moment, I got a picture in my head of a child I'd seen awhile ago in a grocery store, being berated and yelled at for whining, and I could hear that audible but quiet voice in my spirit.
"I made her--why would I change her? I gave her to you because I trust you. I know she will be loved. I know she will be treated gently by your family, even when you get frustrated with her. You will celebrate her uniqueness, and her quirkiness, and you will help her to temper her weaknesses. I have given her to you because you are the best mother for her. I trust you"
And at that moment, she grabbed my hand and asked me to hold her, to rub her back, and to stay with her until she fell into a peaceful, angelic sleep. It was so out of character for her, this precious but oh-so-prickly child who doesn't even like to be snuggled while she is sleeping...
Wow. That really puts it into perspective, doesn't it? This exhausting, often thankless, job of mothering and parenting is a GIFT. It is a privilege. And I am one who is trusted. How humbling.
And for tonight, this one sweet child, the one who, most days, I just can't figure out, is my favorite :)
Cheers!
Megan