I lost it the other day. I try to be supportive-I really do, but I had a huge storm inside me and unleashed it on my sleeping son as he once again ignored me and refused to even consider what I was asking him to do. Of course 99.9 of everything I ask him to do is for his benefit, but my son continually exercises his right to choose for himself, even if it is not in his best interest. So I try to be patient and wait, and wait, and watch, and refrain from acting like a "crazy mom" yelling like a banshee. I've become quite accustomed to being treated with disrespect-of bending over backward to serve this child only to have him give me the proverbial "finger" and do whatever the hell he pleases while raising his voice at me telling me how "unreasonable" and stupid I am. The continual brainwashing from allowed contact with his father through calls and letters have influenced his thinking including the idea that his mom is responsible for his father's 10 year prison sentence and could have easily secured his release if she would have only did what his father asked her to do. Mom doesn't know what she's talking about-she's just stupid. I believe my son thinks that it is partly my fault and my lack of action that have resulted in him not having the father he adores in the home for the last 6 years. She didn't do what his father asked her to do so why should I do what my stupid mother asks me to do?
My trigger for my fierce wrath was when my son started calling other people stupid who were also bending over backwards for him and giving them the "finger" with his uncaring, unyielding attitude. It was just too much- and I cracked. I communicated in my crazy,yelling voice and like usual-it didn't work. I felt like slamming the front door, leaving, and letting him find his own way to the airport for his coveted India trip-anything to withdraw my full support. I left the room, regrouped, read some scriptures, prayed, and then returned to apologize for my poor communication. Our tearful exchange ended in several hugs and expressions of love. I do care and want him to be happy. But most of all I love him and would do anything for him, or at least I would like to think I would. I would love to force him to do what I say, but I can't. He has to choose for himself. He can choose to follow and do what his mother or other loved ones ask him to do. He and I can both choose to do what God says instead of just doing whatever we want to do.
So fighting against this trend of disrespect, over the years I pleaded, even begged him to do basic things like get up, go to school, do chores, work, contribute, go to church, pray, study the scriptures, serve-just think about someone other than just himself- Though I have tried to follow up with consequences, most of my efforts have been met with extreme resistance. Fortunately he has done many wonderful things on his own and has reminded me several times-his heart is in the right place.
My heart has been in the right place, or at least I strive to have it in the right place. And through it all, whether in my own conflicted childhood home in Long Beach, or the home I made with Jeff Mowen, or the home I made as a single mom, or the home I tried to make with Jeff Bills, all my homes have heart. There is LOVE. So it is no surprise that as I was leading the choir while singing "Love at Home" I burst into tears while conducting. Afterward I testified of the healing balm of love in mending broken hearts-in smoothing out all the rough edges/conflict in our home lives. I encouraged the choir to sing the song smoothly and sweetly to help others feel this power of love in transforming our homes to places where we can put our heart in the right place. The song is full of lyrics comparing the beauty of the earth to the beauty of love at home. I know whenever I'm in nature I feel the love of the Creator. The beauty of the earth overwhelms me and yet I can create a similar beauty by filling my home with love. Like the lyric in the song, "Oh there's one who smiles on high-when there's love at home." I know how pleased our Father in heaven is when we love one another. He is pleased when we continually repent and communicate in loving ways. No more banshee, screaming you crazy mom. I love the phrase that we cannot change another person but we can change ourselves and the way we treat them. I want to change and continually put my heart in the right place.
My trigger for my fierce wrath was when my son started calling other people stupid who were also bending over backwards for him and giving them the "finger" with his uncaring, unyielding attitude. It was just too much- and I cracked. I communicated in my crazy,yelling voice and like usual-it didn't work. I felt like slamming the front door, leaving, and letting him find his own way to the airport for his coveted India trip-anything to withdraw my full support. I left the room, regrouped, read some scriptures, prayed, and then returned to apologize for my poor communication. Our tearful exchange ended in several hugs and expressions of love. I do care and want him to be happy. But most of all I love him and would do anything for him, or at least I would like to think I would. I would love to force him to do what I say, but I can't. He has to choose for himself. He can choose to follow and do what his mother or other loved ones ask him to do. He and I can both choose to do what God says instead of just doing whatever we want to do.
So fighting against this trend of disrespect, over the years I pleaded, even begged him to do basic things like get up, go to school, do chores, work, contribute, go to church, pray, study the scriptures, serve-just think about someone other than just himself- Though I have tried to follow up with consequences, most of my efforts have been met with extreme resistance. Fortunately he has done many wonderful things on his own and has reminded me several times-his heart is in the right place.
My heart has been in the right place, or at least I strive to have it in the right place. And through it all, whether in my own conflicted childhood home in Long Beach, or the home I made with Jeff Mowen, or the home I made as a single mom, or the home I tried to make with Jeff Bills, all my homes have heart. There is LOVE. So it is no surprise that as I was leading the choir while singing "Love at Home" I burst into tears while conducting. Afterward I testified of the healing balm of love in mending broken hearts-in smoothing out all the rough edges/conflict in our home lives. I encouraged the choir to sing the song smoothly and sweetly to help others feel this power of love in transforming our homes to places where we can put our heart in the right place. The song is full of lyrics comparing the beauty of the earth to the beauty of love at home. I know whenever I'm in nature I feel the love of the Creator. The beauty of the earth overwhelms me and yet I can create a similar beauty by filling my home with love. Like the lyric in the song, "Oh there's one who smiles on high-when there's love at home." I know how pleased our Father in heaven is when we love one another. He is pleased when we continually repent and communicate in loving ways. No more banshee, screaming you crazy mom. I love the phrase that we cannot change another person but we can change ourselves and the way we treat them. I want to change and continually put my heart in the right place.
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