I sold my soul to the devil.
I bought into a depraved worldview.
I started to believe that children were burdens, and then I started treating you that way.
Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, kids.
Raising you is hard work. The hours are hell. The pay is terrible.
But the rewards? They’re AWESOME! The benefits – eternal!
It’s just that the world keeps telling me the opposite. They tell me that you aren’t worth it. That big screen TV? That new car? That big, beautiful, clean, empty house? Totally worth it. Go into debt to obtain those things. And if you don’t have them, you have no status. You’re not worth anything.
And guess what? We don’t have those things. I don’t want those things. I never have. But I started to feel worth less because I didn’t have, and didn’t want, those things. What is wrong with me? Even in the church, people who don’t really mean to degrade children, do. By telling us that as we age, we should have bigger houses and fancier cars.
But honestly, what do I care about a car that will eventually rust and a house that will eventually fall down. Do I really want to spend my life chasing those things that are so… so… stupid and pointless.
Or do I want to spend my life building His Kingdom? Doing what He has told me to do. Taking care of what He had blessed me with. And some of those most precious blessings are you. All 6 of you.
I read a blog recently that stated that children are not blessings, they are people. And well, obviously, yes. You are people. (Regardless of another lie that the world is feeding us, you were people from the moment you were conceived.)
But you are blessings, in that the Lord chose to bless our family, chose to bless me, by putting you in my family. Now, I don’t know why some families are not able to have children easily, and this is no commentary about how those families are less blessed, because God’s blessings take on many forms.
But you are blessings.
And I need to treat you like the blessings you are.
Oh yes, there still needs to be discipline. And admonition. And boundaries.
But forgive me for losing the wonder. The awe. The excitement.
Forgive me for making it mundane and unbearable, instead of miraculous and beautiful.
I’m not sugar-coating it. But if God said that we should find joy even in trials, then I need to look for the beauty even in the difficulty. The miracle in the mundane.
I love you. Exactly as you are. Exactly as who God created you to be.
And I’ll be different than the world around me in order to guard that precious love for you in a world that tells me I’m loving all the wrong things.
I’ll open my eyes to believe that what God says is true, and He pretty much states that you are some of His greatest creations. (See Psalm 127, Proverbs 139, Matthew 18.)
And I am in love with you. And in love with Him. And so very thankful for you. And so very determined to live differently than the rest of the world. So bear with me. And forgive me.