sorting socks
On the fifth day of school at home due to storms and road conditions, I was sitting on the living room floor sorting socks and listening to a podcast when angry words came from upstairs. And not really just angry words, but words designed to destroy. It was working - to destroy our peaceful home, at least. Tones grew increasingly condescending, volumes grew increasingly louder, and their discretion reached an all-time low. We had been struggling for several days, but nothing quite like this. Grasping for wisdom on how to respond in a way that would actually reach into them (because apparently, nothing else I had said throughout the past couple of days had done so), I pressed pause and called them downstairs. "What do you think I'm going to say to you?", I asked. Silence followed.
It was such a timely opportunity to put into practice something that I had just been picking up from the podcast. A theme that is present throughout the episode is freedom - that when we as wives and mothers are in Christ, we are free - free to operate from a place of peace and confidence rather than from a place of chaos and self-condemnation. We are free to acknowledge how we are feeling and learn to respond to those feelings appropriately. It was another piece in a long journey I have been on to understand what it looks like to absorb a situation - any situation, whether a conversation with someone I know and love, or an interaction gone wrong with a stranger, or a completely external stressor - with grace and the help of the Lord, rather than with fear and out of my own strength.
"Your home does not have to feel this contentious," the Lord whispered to me. As we sat there in the silence and I kept folding socks and waiting for Him to direct the conversation, the messages I told myself were different than the messages I would have told myself a year ago. A year ago, I would have been living under the oppression of my own mind - and Satan loved it.
"You clearly haven't trained them well in this area. (Someone else) could do it better."
"There is no hope for them. They'll probably not turn out."
"You just want them to get along for your own good, so you don't have to deal with the arguing."
Accusation after accusation would tumble over and over, crippling me from discipling my children from a place of rest and hope. I would have moved from contented happiness into despair, revealing that any "joy" that I had as a mother was really just circumstantial happiness, totally contingent on and at the mercy of the whims of all of the people in our household. I'm always telling my 9-year-old that he can choose to respond well even when other people have treated him poorly, but I certainly wasn't a living example of that - not when the slightest shove would send me over the edge into a world of freefall, where I had no more control over the culture of our home that I did over the pre-teen emotions that seem to drive it.
This year, I sensed growth in myself as I mentally sorted through all of those things and replaced them. God held my hand as I re-thought them all:
"You have told them these things lots of times, but try again. Keep your tone even and steady and kind."
"There is hope for them. Share with them that I want to help them, and what your vision is for a peaceful household."
"You want them to get along because you love them and want good relationships for them. God knows that, and you know that too."
A while back I had saved an instagram post, where the poster writes: "There are days when I'm genuinely struggling and need a break. And then, there are days when I'm not struggling at all, and yet the temptation to claim the title of "bedraggled, woe is me martyr mom" still beckons me. Self-imposed martyrdom, I've found in my life, is either un-surrendered bitterness or laziness, or both. Hebrews 12 says to "see to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled." That "many" looks like our families, our friends, our local church and community reaping the consequences of our "determined to be a victim" attitudes.
I look back at seasons that genuinely weren't that hard, but at the time, I thought if I didn't complain, or talk about how hard my role as a mother was, no one would notice or acknowledge me.
I simply wasn't casting my cares onto the Lord. I thought playing victim in my home would cause those around me to give me the validation I desperately desired. But even when they did (which was often), it still didn't fill the void. Turns out only Jesus can fill that longing.
He knows exactly when to comfort, and when to expose. His Word is a Sword, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Sadly, you can go quite a while manipulating the people around you, but you can't manipulate God. He knows what you actually need no matter what you claim. He's the Father that dries your tears but also straightens your back. He's the One who can not only show you the roots of that bitterness, but dig them up for you too!
I recognize this topic isn't for everyone. But if this resonates with you, it's time to take the resentment, complaining, bitterness, unforgiveness, whatever it may be- and lay it at His feet. It's a burden that's not only NOT serving your family, but it's genuinely not serving you. It's time to be honest."
When we are struggling with the same things over and over, it's easy for us to make excuses for ourselves and for our kids - I'm just in a tough season... they are just at a tough age. If we remain a victim - blaming our problems on other people or our circumstances - we feel less like a failure... but we're no less responsible, actually. Owning the responsibility and the options that we do have before us puts us on the offensive again and allows us to truly change whatever aspect of the culture in our home needs it the most.
In that moment, sitting on the living room floor sorting socks, I realized two things -
One: I did have options before me on how to handle the difficult parenting situation I was in, and God was in the current moment walking alongside me and showing me how to do it well. There is hope for our family.
It was strikingly similar to my other realization, in a completely different and odd sort of way --
Two: I also had the means and resources to change the sock situation that frustrated me CONSTANTLY. Just as I did not have to remain a victim to a damaging sub-culture in our home, I also did not have to remain victim to the completely frustrating sock matching problem every single week. I threw away all the socks with holes and with missing pairs, hopped online, and ordered new socks for everyone with credit card rewards points. It was such a tangible way to remind myself that this doesn't have to be as hard as I am making it. When I refuse to acknowledge a situation for what it is and do what is within my ability to rectify it, I am placing myself on the defensive as a victim, and it shows in every area of my life.
I don't know that it is for you. I know that it has been a collection of people and circumstances over time that have slowly built up in me this message that I don't have choices. It takes a long time to realize that you're operating out of that place, and it takes even longer to learn how to re-frame things and begin to think about things differently. The idea that we are victim to what is happening around us is incredibly damaging to our motherhood and our homes. We may be affected by what is around us, but we have the power of Jesus to show us how to walk through it, and how to lead our families through it.
As I close this post, my oldest is pounding out "In Christ Alone" on the piano (literally pounding right now because it's not quite refined, but somehow that's more relatable anyway):
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.
No guilt. No fear. No power of hell. No scheme of man. We are standing and living in the power of Christ. From there, "I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." (Philippians 4)
No matter what words or attitudes get thrown at me, there is Power available to me to receive them and respond to them from a place of grace. I don't have to feel sorry for myself, lament my past failures, and become angry at my children all within the space of thirty seconds. I can instead remind myself of the promises of God, approach the situation with humble confidence, and speak the Truth in love. I am free.

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