I lost it. I yelled. I marched over and told Jonathan to get himself and his sister into the house to wash their hands, all the while slapping at my 2-year-old, trying to salvage Jennifer’s outfit. Then I swatted both of them.
Jonathan started sobbing, but he took Jennifer inside.
Christopher crept up to me and said, “Mommy . . .?”
I rather ignored him and continued packing. He persisted.
“Mommy?” he quietly said, “It was me. I put the dirt on the seat. Then I stood back and asked Jennifer if she wanted to knock it off.”
Oh.
“You mean Jonathan didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Right.”
Oh.
How often do I jump into a situation with both feet, guns blazing - only to find that I didn’t have all of the information? I am not God. I am not omniscient, omnipresent, or all wise.
I don’t know what it is - is it the daily responsibility of being the one in charge of three intelligent, energetic children? Is it that I somehow unconsciously start to identify my role as parent with the role of my Heavenly Parent? Why is it that I act without knowledge? Even my Heavenly Parent, who does know all things is slow to anger and abounds in patience.
Christopher was a very clear mirror. I apologized to Jonathan and asked his forgiveness. But God’s not done with me yet; I suspect there will be other opportunities to show me that He alone is God.