Difficult is Beautiful

I don't find it helpful, for the most part, to record the difficult parts of our life.  My goal here is primarily to record all the wonderful things about my children and this time in our lives that I never want to forget.  Everyone keeps telling me that this time goes so very quickly, and I know the brevity of my memory.  I already treausure my blog books and would have already forgotten many things recorded in the last 5 years. 
 
However, I also want to remember some of the difficult things.  Partly, so that when my children are grown and they share with me their difficulties, I will be able to go back and remind myself that our experiences were not all halos and sweetness.  And partly because I want to put things in perspective for myself now, and remind myself that I am learning.  And growing.  And am still desperately imperfect.
 
One thing that is particularly difficult for me in parenting is developing a spiritual foundation for my children - without pushing them too hard.  They will get nowhere riding the coattails of my own faith, and it is my most fervent prayer that God would draw each one to Himself and do the work in them that only He can. 
 
As with most things in raising a "spirited child" (read: I say black, you say white.  I say yes, you say no.), this process of shaping - or encouraging - is simply more.  Because that's what a spirited child is - more intense, more sensitive, more persistant, etc.  And to me, too often, more difficult!  Today was a difficult morning in church.  Yes, you must share.  Yes, you must stand.  Yes, I'll scratch your back while we sing.  No, you may not lay on the floor.  Yes, you can sit on my lap.  No, you may not fold your legs up so that I can't read.  No, you may not break that.  Or that.  Not that either.  No, you may not yell at me.  No, I don't understand.  Yes, I am the boss.  Yes.  I. Am. The. Boss.

Followed by tears.  For both of us.  Wondering how on earth God will ever use my floundering, flailing self.  More than that, how my children will ever be able to see past my floundering, flailing self on their own paths to understanding the One who can save them. 

And then.  My now calm, spirited child asked me to snuggle with her tonight.  We talked a little about this morning.  I reminded her how much I need Jesus.  We reminded each other how much we love each other.  And we held pinkies while we closed our eyes with smiles on our faces. 

Only in God's economy can difficult be so very, very beautiful.