The Tears of a Parent

The past two years of being a parent has taught me more about my relationship with the Lord than I ever imagined it would. 

During my pregnancy with Emmalee I used to think "I want to be the most Godly woman I can be because that is what I want my child to be.  And how will she ever know how to become that woman if she doesn't see it in her own mother?"  I remember that during my pregnancy, my walk got deeper because I wanted to be stronger. 

Now, being a parent for the past two years, I don't see my walk getting "deeper," I see my understanding getting "stronger."

Emmalee has recently started battling us when its time to go to bed.  For her, this is completely unusual because she has always been so easy to put down. I've tried to blame is on the "terrible 2's", or my being pregnant, or her realizing that her world is about to change...but regardless of the reason, she has decided this is a battle she will fight...EVERY NIGHT!

One of the first nights we encountered this battle was last week.  We went through our typical routine, and I put her in her bed. She got out. I put her in again. She got out. And this went on for at least 10 minutes.  Then her daddy got involved. 

He went through the bedtime routine as well, and put her in her bed.  She got out.  He put her back in her bed, came out of her room, and held her door shut so she couldn't get out.  Which, she quickly tried to do, and when she realized she couldn't, she begged and sobbed for mommy. 

Can I tell you that it broke my heart into pieces.  I knew that my sweet little 2 year old needed to go to sleep, and by going into her room, I would make things worse.  So I was letting her daddy handle it.  But it still broke my heart, although pregnancy hormones were, I'm sure, playing a role. 

Brant went back into her room.  Five minutes later he emerged, feeling accomplished and exhausted because she was finally in bed, and he was certain she would not get up.  He was wrong.  About 5 minutes later, a figure emerged from her room and went down the hallway into the living room calling my name.  I could hear her from our bedroom, and after several minutes of hearing this tired little voice, I walked into the hallway.  My daughter turned to look at me and I looked at her.  I sat down on the floor in the hallway and she walked straight into my lap and buried her head in my chest.  She was exhausted.  I was exhausted. 

And  as I sat there on the floor holding my sweet baby girl, I let me tears fall.  They were tears of frustration, exhaustion, and pleading.  All I wanted was for this baby to understand she NEEDED to go to bed.  She needs rest.  Her little body can't "do it all" but doesn't grasp that.  I do.  And as her mother, I want only what is best for her, which was good rest. 

And as my tears fell, my mind finally began to understand our Father's love for us.  I can't "do it all", but sometimes I think I can.  But my Father wants only what is best for me, but how often do I fight Him?  If you're like me, I fight Him all the time. I battle with Him over what I think is best and what I think I need.  But He knows what is waiting for me on the "other side," just as I knew that a night full of rest would help Emmalee have a smile on her face in the morning light. 

So just as I cried over my child, how many times has He cried over me in anger, frustration, and as a simple plea to just trust Him?  And the honest answer is that I don't want to know the true number of times. 

So tell me, as a parent, how has your walk changed?  Is it deeper, do you have a better understanding of the Father's love?