I don't get it. No matter what I do, I don't understand how some mom's have an unending patience for their children. The obvious answer is that I am not yet a mother. The not-so-obvious answer is that I am so task-oriented that I forget that I am working with people rather than machinery. I am so easily frustrated when people don't "get it." I forget that I am not responsible for other people. I am responsible for my reactions to their comments, my behavior when around them, my expression of love towards them. I am responsible for myself and myself only.
More and more I am aware of what Peter must have meant when he said, "above all else, love one another." When I am consciously aware of other people, I am not overly concerned with "getting the job done." When I am acutely in tune to others, I remember that the smile of one person is much more valuable than a checkmark on a to-do list. I've got to keep working on that as He continues to keep working on me. He's got it under control and I am more and more alright with that.
Consider this: I had to stick my foot in my mouth today. The boys have brought home an unbecoming phrase from school and feel at liberty to chant it whenever they see fit. As it so happens, I used the phrase (in its proper context) and was immediately reprimanded by an 8-year old. Of course. Of course. At the ripe age of 24, I had to apologize for using the phrase "I don't care," and literally tasted the stentch of sweat as I stuck my foot in my mouth.
More and more I am aware of what Peter must have meant when he said, "above all else, love one another." When I am consciously aware of other people, I am not overly concerned with "getting the job done." When I am acutely in tune to others, I remember that the smile of one person is much more valuable than a checkmark on a to-do list. I've got to keep working on that as He continues to keep working on me. He's got it under control and I am more and more alright with that.
Consider this: I had to stick my foot in my mouth today. The boys have brought home an unbecoming phrase from school and feel at liberty to chant it whenever they see fit. As it so happens, I used the phrase (in its proper context) and was immediately reprimanded by an 8-year old. Of course. Of course. At the ripe age of 24, I had to apologize for using the phrase "I don't care," and literally tasted the stentch of sweat as I stuck my foot in my mouth.
2 comments:
That won't be the last time you stick your foot in your mouth, honey...I walk around on nubs!Missing You, Mom
if it makes you feel any better, i taught my children the word "shit" by accident when I thought they weren't listening.
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