One of Those Times

Last night was one of those times.


One I'm sure we will be experiencing more of as we go through toddlerhood and adolescence. It was rough. It was pitiful. There were some tears shed. There were some boundaries tested.

This is not from last night, but this is pretty much how it looked during the whole ordeal.

Meyers is a terrible eater. There are only a handful of things she will eat AND sometimes she won't even eat those. Last night was one of those times.


It's very frustrating. The doctor says she will eat when she is hungry, so I've kind of chose my battle and I don't force her to eat. She is not wasting away, so I don't see the need in the meltdowns right now. Later, when she is a little bit older, I will probably resume the battle. But I choose not to now.


John is the one to force her to eat. And by force, I don't mean shoving it down her throat. I mean, doing all the tricks in the book to get her to eat. I'll be honest. I wanted to cave and get her out of the high chair while all of this was going on. Especially because she was so pitiful saying "mommy" like I would help her out of this situation. I knew that I had to back John. We had to set an example for her as a united front. That may sound dramatic, but I've been going to this parenting seminar, and that is all I could think about when Meyers was trying to "work" me. I know that these are the most important, formative years, so I backed John.


She didn't eat at all. We finished our food, and she still had not eaten hers. John told her she would have to go to bed early, that she would have to stay in her high chair until she ate, no swinging or bubbles after dinner.....none of that worked.


I started cleaning up and was about to start making brownies for dessert. Meyers loves to "cook" with me. She sits on the counter (yes, mom, I have a grip on her while she is up there.) and I let her stir. I told her if she ate that she could help me cook. That still didn't get her to eat. **Sidenote** Meyers takes singulair at night in the powder form, so every night she has to eat yogurt or applesauce and she knows that. John gave her the applesauce and she ate it. She seemed super proud of herself that she ate something. When she was done, she started saying "cook, cook", and this is where my heart broke. She thought since she ate applesauce that she would get to cook with me. But the rule was, she could cook with me if she ate her dinner.


The look in her eyes when I explained to her that she couldn't cook with me because she didn't eat her dinner was painful. I could almost start crying right now just thinking about it.


Of course, in 2 year old style, she was over it in about 2 minutes and had moved onto something else. She didn't even really understand that she was going to bed early. She sang and played in the bathtub like nothing had happened. I can't stop thinking about the whole situation. I love these days. I love 2 years old. I love so much about this time, but I don't love the disciplining. It is infinitely harder than just loving on her. I know that disciplining her and having consequences for her is one of the biggest ways I can love her......but it's so hard! I pray all the time that I can be best mom for her, that I'll make the right choices, and do the right things for her.


I read something on Kelly's Korner blog this week. I had to go back and read it last night after the whole episode. I linked up to her post, but here is what some of it said:

MOTHERHOOD AS A MISSION FIELD
by: Rachel Jankovic

As someone once said, “Everyone wants to save the world, but no one wants to help Mom with the dishes.” When you are a mother at home with your children, the church is not clamoring for monthly ministry updates. When you talk to other believers, there is not any kind of awe about what you are sacrificing for the gospel. People are not pressing you for needs you might have, how they can pray for you. It does not feel intriguing, or glamorous. Your work is normal, because it is as close to home as you can possibly be. You have actually gone so far as to become home.

If you are a Christian woman who loves the Lord, the gospel is important to you. It is easy to become discouraged, thinking that the work you are doing does not matter much. If you were really doing something for Christ you would be out there, somewhere else, doing it. Even if you have a great perspective on your role in the kingdom, it is easy to lose sight of it in the mismatched socks, in the morning sickness, in the dirty dishes. It is easy to confuse intrigue with value, and begin viewing yourself as the least valuable part of the Church.

There are a number of ways in which mothers need to study their own roles, and begin to see them, not as boring and inconsequential, but as home, the headwaters of missions.

At the very heart of the gospel is sacrifice, and there is perhaps no occupation in the world so intrinsically sacrificial as motherhood. Motherhood is a wonderful opportunity to live the gospel. Jim Elliot famously said, “He is no fool who gives up that which he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” Motherhood provides you with an opportunity to lay down the things that you cannot keep on behalf of the people that you cannot lose. They are eternal souls, they are your children, they are your mission field.

If you are like me, then you may be thinking “What did I ever give up for them? A desk job? Time at the gym? Extra spending money? My twenty- year- old figure? Some sleep?” Doesn’t seem like much when you put it next to the work of some of the great missionaries, people who gave their lives for the gospel.

Think about the feeding of the five thousand when the disciples went out and rounded up the food that was available. It wasn’t much. Some loaves. Some fish. Think of some woman pulling her fish out and handing it to one of the disciples. That had to have felt like a small offering. But the important thing about those loaves and those fishes was not how big they were when they were given, it was about whose hands they were given into. In the hands of the Lord, that offering was sufficient. It was more than sufficient. There were leftovers. Given in faith, even a small offering becomes great.

Look at your children in faith, and see how many people will be ministered to by your ministering to them. How many people will your children know in their lives? How many grandchildren are represented in the faces around your table now?

So, if mothers are strategically situated to impact missions so greatly, why do we see so little coming from it? I think the answer to this is quite simple: sin. Discontent, pettiness, selfishness, resentment. Christians often feel like the right thing to do is to be ashamed about what we have. We hear that quote of Jim Elliot’s and think that we ought to sell our homes and move to some place where they need the gospel.

But I’d like to challenge you to look at it differently. Giving up what you cannot keep does not mean giving up your home, or your job so you can go serve somewhere else. It is giving up yourself. Lay yourself down. Sacrifice yourself here, now. Cheerfully wipe the nose for the fiftieth time today. Make dinner again for the people who don’t like the green beans. Laugh when your plans are thwarted by a vomiting child. Lay yourself down for the people here with you, the people who annoy you, the people who get in your way, the people who take up so much of your time that you can’t read anymore. Rejoice in them. Sacrifice for them. Gain that which you cannot lose in them.

It is easy to think you have a heart for orphans on the other side of the world, but if you spend your time at home resenting the imposition your children are on you, you do not. You cannot have a heart for the gospel and a fussiness about your life at the same time. You will never make any difference there if you cannot be at peace here. You cannot have a heart for missions, but not for the people around you. A true love of the gospel overflows and overpowers. It will be in everything you do, however drab, however simple, however repetitive.

God loves the little offerings. Given in faith, that plate of PB&J’s will feed thousands. Given in faith, those presents on Christmas morning will bring delight to more children than you can count. Offered with thankfulness, your work at home is only the beginning. Your laundry pile, selflessly tackled daily, will be used in the hands of God to clothe many. Do not think that your work does not matter. In God’s hands, it will be broken, and broken, and broken again, until all who have need of it have eaten and are satisfied. And even then, there will be leftovers.

A great reminder that our home is a mission field. A great reminder that disciplining my sweet girl is necessary (painful, but necessary). A great reminder that being a mommy to Meyers is one the most important and impactful things that I will ever do.