I don't always get this parenting thing right. Most times I probably don't get it even medium right. But on Sunday, I think I got it wrong. My youngest daughter acted a fool in church one day and I couldn't quite figure out why. She was defiant, silent, and irate. I couldn't get her to follow my instructions and she kept trying to escape from me when I tried to hold her. I kept asking her what I did to make her so angry, but she refused to talk to me. She refused to even look at me. She didn't want to be near me. She attempted to run away or break free from my grip at every opportunity, but she wouldn't tell me what I did. She didn't tell anybody else either; she simply refused to interact or engage. After some time she chose to get over it and finally said to me that the reason she was upset was that I made her wait a turn to use some tape that her brother was using. I had done nothing wrong, but she felt wronged. And there was nothing I could do about it until she communicated with me. I didn't apologize for making her wait, it wasn't her turn. But I did express to her that it's okay to have feelings and that I love her.
Not too much later, she had another tantrum. I'm still not sure why, but it led to her having a breakdown on the way to the car. She was reprimanded because her life was at stake. We were in the middle of the street for Christ's sake. Anyway, as I continued to look in the mirror of my own life through the actions of a 5-year-old girl, I grew frustrated with her mood swings and didn't know what to do. So I punished her. I punished her and all her siblings by canceling some fun time I planned for later that afternoon. I still had an errand or two to run so we headed to the mall. After a few stops, we headed to the food court for lunch. I asked each kid what they wanted. The boys said they wanted pizza, and my oldest girl said she wanted chicken nuggets, but when I asked my youngest daughter, she chose not to answer at first. After some prodding, she began to respond using her hands and body. She was doing this weird sign language thing that wasn't sign language at all. She was pointing and making faces and hand gestures that made absolutely no sense to me. She was communicating something, but I couldn't understand what it was. I, already frustrated at her previous behavior, chose to ignore her and feed my other children. I gave them my debit card and sent them to the restaurant of their choice in the food court. My youngest daughter chose not to go. I know. Terrible parenting happening here.
As my other children returned and begin eating their meals, I sat there without food for myself because I wasn't hungry. My 5-year-old also sat there with a straight face. staring into the distance as if nothing was wrong. As if the rest of us weren't there. Emotionless, silent, and unapologetic. It confused me and angered me. Why would she do that? Why would she choose
starvation? Why would she not communicate in a
normal way? She knows how to use her words. She is an incredibly articulate and bright child. Why is she choosing a kind of defiance that hurts her? It dawned on me suddenly, that she truly is my twin. she looks like me, and she ACTS exactly like me. It was so clear.
I, too, result to emotional stonewalling and detachment when I don't have my way. When I feel dissatisfied and alone, I end communication and make the people around me feel as if they don't exist. Parenting will do that to you, make you look in the mirror and shake your head.
My poor baby. Doesn't she know I love her? Doesn't she know that her behavior won't stop me from caring for her? Doesn't she know that I have more grace for her than she has ways to act a fool? Doesn't she know everything I do is to protect her?
Beloved, this is how God sees us. Sees me. I have trouble remembering that. I often see God's correction as punishment. I confuse my suffering from the natural consequences of my actions with God's wrath. I assume that the things I want and need won't be given to me because of my sins. I throw tantrums when I am denied the things I want and I stonewall God and the people that love me after I grow frustrated with my circumstances. But how could I, an imperfect human, be willing to give my daughter whatever meal delighted her heart-- even when I couldn't afford it, even after she spent the entire day fighting me-- but deny God's goodness to care for me from his abundance despite my sin? It makes no sense. It is evidence of my folly. Furthermore, people often confuse nonchalant behavior as cold and without emotion. That couldn't be further from the truth. I know my daughter. I know that despite her silence and stoic countenance, she is struggling with a whirlwind of emotion inside of her heart that she feels powerless to control. So she chooses to suppress it. Loving her at that moment meant giving her space to calm herself and being open to hearing her whenever she did find the strength to open up. Ignoring her, putting her in isolation, or cutting her off from my joy with the other children would only bring more grief and frustration. It would break the bonds of trust and it would mean she isn't safe and stable with me. That her emotional turbulence could cause me to shatter the world I've created for her-- a world full of love, joy, gentleness, and fun. She may not be able to participate in that world all the time, but it shouldn't be taken away. Take from that what you will, for your children, your friend, your spouse, or even yourself.
Later on, when my other 3 children are almost done with their meals, my hungry and emotional daughter turned to me and said, "I was talking with my hands because I just wanted someone to understand my language." Who doesn't want to be understood, especially by the ones who have dedicated their lives to loving them? I apologized for my lack of patience. She apologized for her tantrums. We grabbed her pizza and a large pop and we finished our afternoon in peace.
I'm still learning my children's many languages. Each of them has their own, but that day taught me some important lessons about loving well:
Prioritize understanding.
You can build walls or you can build gardens.
Don't force it. Hold space and time.
Remain peaceful, letting empathy guide your actions and words.
These rules apply to all relationships, but I am practicing them daily in my relationship with myself. Understanding myself requires reflection, honesty, and consistency. I have to practice creating safe and soft places to land when my emotions stop me from enjoying the things I would enjoy. I can't rush my healing and growth and I shouldn't let anyone else do it. And I want to always speak to myself with a level of kindness that gives me the room to fail, knowing that where I am now is not where I've always been nor is it where I will remain. I'll speak to myself in the languages that make me feel whole.
I hope you do the same, and as you do, extend that same grace to the ones around you, unapologetically.
