I did so much wrong that sometimes I have a hard time accepting I did a lot right.
Yet my sons now grown gracious and forgiving readily tell me what a great mom I have always been.
But when they were tiny treasures in earthen vessels entrusted to my care they got broken because I was broken. And God had to raise the hurting little girl in me as I was single-mom-raising three little boys.
He had the harder job!
Before my former spouse left — helped out the door by my disrespectful, loveless, hot tempered and controlling ways – we looked like a picture perfect Sunday morning church family, masks worn well, filing in and out, knowing all the right things to say or not say while in the company of the body.
What I didn’t rightly know then was how deep and wide and high is the love of Christ for me. Or how my life is to be a living example of God’s love for others.
Without knowing this perfect love by heart, fear and trembling took control, guided by perfectionism and her cousin legalism.
And raising godly children revolved more around rules than teaching them how to deepen a relationship with the One who loves them best…
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