Gulf Coast Family

by Holly Stratton

The morning worship service came to a close, and I quickly made my way to the church nursery. As the worker handed me my daughter, she whispered a flattering comment about knowing I must be a very good mother by the way my child listened and obeyed. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about those earlier years when I would claim my son at the nursery and have workers whisper sweet nothings of a very different nature.

I had been just as dedicated to conscientious training with him as I was with my daughter, and had undoubtedly exerted much more energy in the entire process; but the humbling reality was that the observable results of that commitment were often very dim. Those unsatisfied yearnings to hear positive comments about my wonderful mothering served as invaluable reminders to me of my need to fight against those misplaced motivations of the heart that can find us self-centeredly focusing on our own parental interests instead of on the interests of our children.

As I left the church, tears began to fill my eyes as my heart filled with overwhelming gratitude; not gratitude for the good behavior of a daughter that flattered me, but for the challenging behavior of a beloved son who humbled me.

Even when solid parenting principles are followed, there are many reasons, both physical and spiritual, why children may be particularly challenging. Regardless of the reasons, the common thread these children possess is a raw talent of revealing our own heart needs and unmasking our own deficiencies in our demonstrations of love. “High maintenance” children rarely present an increased labor level that remains centered on them alone. With each parenting challenge we face comes the sharp reminder that our own lives are in continual need of examination.

I have always had an affinity for decorative boxes and bags, containers that represent two things I like very much: control and order! I am familiar with the restless spirit that comes from exerting incredible amounts of energy trying to keep life neatly contained within one of these boxes, and I am acquainted with the frustration that comes from mentally tucking people inside, where it is assumed they will function best. My son was one of those children who had entirely too much fun bouncing on the lids of boxes to reside neatly inside, and my responses of irritation vividly revealed the pride of my heart. As I struggled to maintain order and control, my frustration served as a cord of conviction that tightened around my heart.

Are you the parent of a “positively challenging” son or daughter? I trust you will be encouraged as you embrace the lessons of love and humility that these beloved children teach so beautifully. The lessons may be temporarily painful, but they can be eternally rewarding!

Holly holds a Masters degree in child and family development and speaks at various women’s groups throughout the country. She lives in Clearwater with her husband and two children.