While your hands are in the mold,
And your heart is being told,
I know you can be bored;
With mom’s constant scold.
Your restless legs, wandering eyes, and Frustrated groan,
They make every effort of mine look wasted and unknown,
I remember as I exhale that you were made with a plan,
And the One on the throne is still able and He can!
But my child, my love, my precious little one,
May your heart learn now from God’s only son.
That in the mold, in the scold, lies love in ton;
And in your Savior’s eyes, know you are number one!
I wrote this poem for Abi after a particularly hard day for her. Beginning of the school year is always a learning curve. New curriculums are being added, and there is CHANGE. Abi does not like change. This particular day I scolded her for resisting. Later that evening I thought I could have been a little more kind. Harsh tone, irritability and impatience all made its way through my scolding.
Then comes Abi with a card that she made during craft time. It says “Mom, you are very kind.” I had no words. Seriously?? Child, I thought I scarred you for the rest of your life and you tell me I am kind? Words flowed out through my fingers as I exhaled the grace received, and relived that day.