Tough Love

Last night I worked childcare at my church. Before I get too far into this post, I want to stress the fact that I absolutely L-O-V-E this job. For soooooo many reasons! I love loving on kids. I love calming a crying baby. I love rocking in a rocking chair, reading a story. I honestly don't believe that there are greater feelings in the world than having a young child hug you out of the blue, color you a beautiful picture, or simply smile at you from across a room...

But... Sometimes it's tough. Some nights I walk out of the church in frustration. And there are times that I find myself sternly saying, "enough."

Working childcare at the church isn't merely a weekend job. We're not there for church services alone. Our childcare services are offered 7 days a week not only for church services, but for Bibile studies, funerals, church ministries, special events, and community recovery groups.

...Just to name a few... Our doors rarely close. And I am extremely blessed to have the opportunity to be a part of such an intregal part of the children's ministry department. Yet as any job does, it becomes wearisome at times. Last night was one of those times. There are nights in which I all but throw my hands up in the air in an act of surrender. And I haven't quite fugured out how, but you can almost ALWAYS tell when it's a full moon!

I have found that the most difficult aspect of working in a childcare is having to remind myself that these children aren't my own. These are children that are placed in our care for a reason. For a very divine purpose. There are some instances in which I can clearly see what that purpose is. And there are many times in which I haven't the slightest clue. And I may never know why...

Yet that's ok.

Working with children means that you have to implement discipline. It requires an act of consistency. And more times than not... tough love.

Tough love is something I have struggled with as a parent quite frequently.

Having one child, I find myself wanting to provide for him in any and every way that I possibly can. Unfortunately, there have been many things that I have been unable to give him...

When he was younger, a "no" resulted in an occasional temper tantrum. Kicking and screaming, not able to comprehend why. At 14 years of age, the tables have turned. When I ask him questions, rarely will he answer me. I can't remember the last time that he actually "asked" me for something.

He's grown up to be a lot like I was at his age. Retreat to the bedroom, come out for dinner or to clean up for bed.

...Sometimes I really miss the younger years...

Lately, the common question discussed has everything to do with our future. Possibilities of potential change. And change...can be a very difficult topic to tackle.

Tough love is rarely something that is seen. Decisions can be made, without complete understanding as to "why." It's an act of trust. It's trusting that the decisions are the right ones, and that the revelation will eventually come in due time...

In a way, tough love requires a leap of faith. And in my opinion, faith is one of the greatest things we have to believe in...

My tough love with the kids last night may not be understood for years to come. And that's ok. I know that I love those kids, even if they may not realize it until they're grown.

Tough love isn't allowing someone else to determine the outcome of a situation. Tough love is knowing what's best for the situation and acting upon that knowledge.

As I was leaving the church last night, frustrated as well as questioning some of the decisions I made, I stopped to talk to one of the parents as she was loading her kids in the car. I apologized for possibly coming down a little too hard on the kids and after a few moments of conversation, the pieces began to fall into place.

...With a sincere look in her eyes, she was grateful and quick to remind me that if it weren't for us caring for her kids...she wouldn't be clean.

Divine appointments. You can't help but love them!

Discipline isn't a bad thing. Tough love is an act of love, period.

Flying Kites

Last weekend while I was attending a birthday party for a friend's son, the children were given kites to fly. It was a beautiful day, with wind that is the worst enemy for an allergy sufferer, but perfect for kite flying.

I grabbed my camera with the rest of the adults and headed outside to join the little ones.

I honestly can't remember when the last time was that I actually flew a kite. Nick went through a handful of kites over the years, but as luck would have it, we never really had windy enough days or a spacious enough backyard to fully be able to experience the wonder of a kite flying high in the sky...

So I may not remember when the last time was that I flew a kite, but I will never forget what it was like to fly one as a child. To see an object gliding high in the sky above you, twisting and turning, yet...free. I remember sometimes feeling as though I wished I were a kite. What would everything look like from way up there? How would it feel to have the push of the wind behind you, come up underneath, and carry you through the air?

...knowing that there was something, someone greater than you, allowing you to soar while having complete control via a thin piece of string. Granted, there is always the possibility of the obstacles of an old oak tree or a telephone wire to crash into, but the string is usually still attached.

And then there is always the possibility that the string does actually break. The tie between "kite" and "kite flyer" is severed. But with a skilled craftsman present, it can generally be repaired quickly with a knot.

Our lives are quite a bit similar to a kite. We are given the freedom to fly. To twist and turn in the wind and soar high. Sometimes we crash into a tree and sometimes we take a nosedive into the ground below.

We hold a sense of security in knowing that we are connected to Someone greater. Our string is our lifeline between us...and Him.

And no matter what happens, no matter what we do or where we go, He doesn't let us out of His sight. He never lets us go. He provides the wind and He carries us. If our resistence between us and Him severs the string, He is quick to repair it. If we find ourselves hung up in a tree, He climbs up to rescue us. When our nosedive into the ground below bends or breaks any part of us, He restores us to better than new.

In a sense we are all better off than a tangible kite. Because when the day is over, when the wind stops, or the thrill of flying a kite is outgrown, the kite is stored in the rafters of the garage or maybe even thrown away. The Creator of our being says that we belong to Him...forever.

And I can't wait to see the view from Eternity!