It hit me yesterday like a ton of bricks.
A small sentence. A minor statement in the book Good and Angry. A dad says, “I had developed bitterness toward my kids.”
It took my breath away as I sat in the realization of it all.
Most everything I do is for my kids. I wake up and tackle the day to help them learn and grow and mature. I cook two or three meals a day, all the time considering their health and wellbeing. I read, read, read to them, bathe them, groom them, manage them, discipline them. I teach and explain and correct, always debating in my mind how to handle the issues in the most God-honoring, for-their-betterment, least-need-for-counseling way. I spend the hours after they are tucked in mulling over the events of the day, preparing for the next. I love my kids.
But I was “keeping a record of wrongs.”
No, I wasn’t tallying whines, hurtful words, complaints, and problems. There was no list of good and naughty, no journal accounts of their offenses.
But, unknowingly, I was starting my day with a tankful of anger, ready to pounce. Because I was full.
Full of no one being ready when it was time to leave. Full of picking up toys. Full of putting away laundry. Full of cooking and cleaning. Full of sibling rivalry. Full of disobedience. Full of anger. Full of thinking it all over. Full of self. Full of guilt.
And full of records.
“When will they learn to…”
“I’m so tired of them always…”
So today, after much prayer, I attempted to see my kids without past offenses. They needed a fresh start to the day. I needed a fresh start to the day.
Sure, they repeated some of their trademark issues, and I repeated some of mine. We are all works in progress, after all.
But, as I leaned on the Lord for strength and resolve, my kids and I were able to relate without as much anger wedged in my heart. And, for the first time in quite a while, I fully and deeply appreciated what Paul was saying to the Corinthians in that famous love chapter, “Love keeps no record of wrongs.”
Because the freedom and privilege to love lies in the absence of records.
Lord, let me be full. Full of love.