Extremes

My youngest might be the smallest, but he makes up for it in volume.  He lives in the world of extremes.  He is either extremely precious (emphasis on the first syllable) or extremely ugly.  There is no in-between with our little guy.

It is not unusually for me to catch him in intense situations, such as:

Not surprising, either, that he is serious-competitive about a race across the lawn in dress pants:

Nor is it surprising that he loves to be in photographs, especially other peoples:

(Kind of reminds me of this little guy):

But back to my story....

Owen was quite the handful to deal with for his first three years of life.  We called him the O Factor...because he was an 'unknown' of the grandest sort.  Much like the nursery rhyme of the little girl with the little curl, he was either going to be very, very good or very horrid.  Unfortunately, very horrid tipped the scales much more often than not.  

However, as he has grown and matured to the ripe old age of five, Owen has balanced out the scales quite a bit.  I would go as far as to say that 'very horrid' comes around much less frequently than he used to.  Oh, he still rears his ugly head from time to time, but definitely less.  

I used to wonder how any fruit could ever come from my little extreme machine...my very anal, intense, ultra-sensitive and often very crabby child.  My non-Italian, oh so Italian child.  What to do?  What to do? 

Yet, God loves to refine and sharpen hard edges...loves to flip around and show the other side of the coin.  Turning beauty from coal, dark ashes is His sole propriety. 

Thus, lately I've noticed...

This passionate child that has the ability to get extremely angry--also, has the ability to be extremely broken.  

This child who can so intensely fall to his waywardness, can just as intensely recognize his depravity.

I've watched my five-year-old on his own accord walk up to me and broken-heartedly admit that he lied to his cousin when she asked him if she had white specks on her face (while said mother had to turn her head and try not to laugh at his seriousness over lying about white specks).  

I've watched this tender heart more than once ask his brother to forgive him with no beckoning or prodding from me.

And as I've stood back and witnessed these instances--these flashes of beauty--my mind takes me to Luke 2:19:

'But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.'

Yes, those brief, mothering moments when you get a glimpse of what can be...  moments to be treasured up and pondered, filed away and not forgotten.

Moments when your mothering instinct knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that something supernatural and life- giving just took place.  Moments that you hope and pray will someday be the norm much more often than 'very horrid'.

Oh, how I want an abundance of supernatural and life giving moments in every one of my children's lives!  How I want such moments to be the norm!

Dear Heavenly Father,

Praying that you will remind me daily that we are at war...that life is a spiritual struggle and that you have called us to pray!  Burden me daily to pour out my heart like water before you and lift my heart toward You for the life of our young children (Lam. 2:19).  

Thank you for making Owen so extreme.  Thank you for showing me that extreme is a blessing, for you hate nothing more than lukewarmness--such makes you want to spit (Rev. 3:16)!  Instead, you beckon us to the extreme of radical discipleship.  Bring about radical 100% devotion to You and You alone in Eric and I, in Owen, and all of our children.

Every day our children must make choices...in each of those choices I pray that you would multiply their humility exponentially and squash the pride that threatens to harden them.  Do this in Eric and I too, Lord.  Multiply our humility so that we can model it before them.  Squash our yucky pride into the ground.  

And lastly, do this for the glory of Jesus to all.  May this be the end result.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

In Jesus' name now and forevermore,
Amen.