The Cries of a Heart

The other kids came rushing down the stairs, and by the look on their faces, I knew that it was time for me to get my son and head home.

I knew I should have left much earlier, I felt it in my heart, but failed to follow it.

My son for the better part of the evening was playing well with his friends.

At some point he decided to grab a pair of scissors and began to tell his friends that he was going to “cut them up into pieces” and shortly followed by threatening to hurt himself. Those other kids were trapped in the room as my son stood against the door not allowing them to leave. Meanwhile he began to open the scissors and make a cutting motion, blade to his skin. Just then one of the brave other kids, grabbed the scissors and quickly ran to escape. That is when I saw them coming down the stairs.

The trauma those little kids must have experienced being faced with such a spirit staring at them in the face. The bravery of snatching the scissors, even in the midst of potentially getting hurt. The pain of realizing what just happened.

Although I cannot defend these actions because I know this spirit is not my son, I must deal with them the best I know how. My heart shattered as I heard those words come out of my son’s mouth, “I want to kill myself. I hate myself. I am such a bad boy.”

Immediately my heart went to wanting to feel guilt and take responsibility for him feeling this way, however this would be a lie of the enemy. It did however bring a reality to the words that we speak over people.

My son, although he often makes poor choices such as these, he is a GOOD BOY. His actions are not always smart choices, perhaps even a display of ‘bad’ behavior; however he is a good kid with a big, gentle heart.

It grieves me to know that at only seven my son has gone through so much that he dislikes himself so. Words cannot express the anguish in my heart regarding this, as I too as a very young child found myself wanting to ‘kill myself’ and hated myself.

I did not discipline my son that night, I cried all the way home, and prayed in the spirit. He fell asleep on the car ride home and I prayed over him, I interceded for him, and I blew my shofar in his room. I declare that the enemy has no place in my home, or my son and that the ONLY spirit aloud in his heart, mind, sight, ears, body, and influence over him is the Holy Spirit; every other knee must bow at the name of Jesus Christ. “This kind (of spirit) can only come out by prayer.”

My son will have to make cards for his friends and apologize to them for his actions; as well the next time this event happens, he will not be able to attend.

This surely has opened my eyes to being more diligent about giving my son praise and lifting him up, speaking life in him and over him. For the world is already full of people who will freely dish out words that they have no comprehension of the damage they can do to a heart, the last thing he needs is more from me. I am his advocate, his greatest fan, his proud mom and I will remind him daily of what a Good Boy he really is.

M.O.A.W.

A Battle Worth Fighting

Laundry was folded and ready to be put away, and guess whose chore that was, my little warriors of course.

He decided he didn’t want to do his chore last night so he asked for a different one. (Usually in the past when he wouldn’t do his chore I would do his and he would get mine, which was usually a chore far worse/harder than his and he would regret not doing his own.) This was a little different because there really was nothing else to be done, so I simply replied, “Sorry, but that’s the last chore left so you can’t switch with mine because there are no other chores to do.

Well he didn’t want to do the laundry so he decided to dump the entire bin of folded clothes on the floor, and he made sure nothing was left folded.

“And I’m NOT Cleaning that up!” he stated as he continued to throw random objects at the pile of clothes scattered about. The throwing stopped when he grabbed a candle in a glass jar and shattered that to pieces.

I surprisingly kept cool even at that outburst however inside I was really upset. I shook the glass off all the clothes and put them in a pile on the side along with the other things he threw, and I removed all the glass from the carpet and took it out side to shake off. I came back in and began to eat the muffin that we were going to share. (The deal was he would get some if he displayed good behavior that evening, which he did until this stunt.)

“I want some!” were the next words out of his mouth.

“Sure, no problem, you can have some as soon as that carpet gets vacuumed and the clothes are folded. Here I’ll save you some.”

“I WANT THE MUFFIN!” he commanded.

“Okay, I’ll be happy to give you some as soon as that floor gets cleaned up.”

He clearly was not going to start cleaning so I began to read my bible on the couch and he was irritated. He began kicking me and hitting me, which initially I tried to ignore but, he needed to know this was not acceptable. I grabbed his hands and crossed them like he would be hugging himself, so he could not hit me. I also had to sit behind him on the floor with my legs crossed over his so he could not kick me. The squirming and wiggling and body thrusting was taking place meanwhile the dramatic cries of how he couldn’t breath, and I was ‘hurting’ him were happening. After a while of crying and exerting some energy, he promised to stop hurting me so I let him go. To my surprise he actually did stop.

I went to my room and began to cry and pray for my son, and this situation. I opened my bible and flipped through trying to take my eyes off this situation and seek wisdom in focusing on Jesus.

He led me almost immediately to the parable in Mark 9 ‘Jesus Heals a Boy Possessed by an Impure Spirit.’ Although the parable is titled this, it is an analogy for a generation with a lack of faith, because the people do not believe that they could drive the impure spirit out and even ask Jesus IF He could do anything. Jesus replies to them “Everything is possible for one who believes.” (I did and do believe Jesus could help me then just as He has many times.) In the story, He rebukes the impure spirit and commanded it to never enter the boy again. Later the disciples ask why they couldn’t drive it out and Jesus replies with, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”

That was the answer I needed! Prayer!

I fell asleep shortly after and I guess my son came to bed at some point in the night. Yes he was tired the next morning however through a little humor we kept things positive.  Prayer really works and what a difference it made! My son was told that he would not be able to go to his dad’s tonight until all the clothes were picked up and the other items that he threw. To my surprise, most of it got cleaned up, until we ran out of time, and had to go to work/school. For his compliance, I told him he would be able to go but as soon as he got back, the little bit he had left would have to be put away. (Once upon a time, I would not have stuck to my guns and ended up cleaning for him, but I’ve learned that this does not teach him anything, only that my word means nothing. Even though he struggled to put the clothes away, I know he will reconsider the next time he gets angry and wants to dump the clothes; even better is that he will have learned that he is responsible for his own actions and there are consequences for them. This made the struggle worthwhile and I feel good on my journey to becoming a powerful parent!)

(One year ago when I saw this similar behavior in my son, I felt God telling me through other people that I really needed to start praying over my son at night and any chance I could. I started this journey and soon saw changes in my son. I guess I got lazy or thought that because the changes happened I no longer needed to pray. Well three weeks or so ago, this behavior has resurfaced and has been quite a battle.

I have started and intend to maintain a strong prayer life through interceding for my son, and declaring who he is in Christ, calling forth his destiny. I will not cease just because I see results this time.

“Father, I thank you for my mighty warrior son who is so smart, brave, courageous, gentle and kind. I thank You that he is a mighty worshiper who will follow You all the days of his life. Thank You for the great calling on his life to lead his generation, hearts and souls to the kingdom and glory of God. Lord I thank You that You protect him everywhere he goes and for the angels that never leave his side as a hedge of protection around him. Thank You that he will choose to serve You all the days of his life and that You give him the wisdom and discernment to make wise choices, and see life as if looking through Your eyes. I entrust his life to You and choose to let go of control and die to my own plans daily so that he and I may lead a life that emulates You daily. Thank You that favor and blessings surrounds my son and will pour out into future relationships. Lord help me to find new and creative ways to teach my son to hone his energy and will into leadership qualities that will be used for serving You. Please help me to never grow weary in praying for my son and in parenting him. I thank you that you entrusted his life to me, I love him and I bless him, in Jesus Name, Amen.”

M.O.A.W.

“Every Parent’s Worst Nightmare” kind of story… almost

Saturday evening is pick-my-son-up-from-his-dad’s day, so that I did.

I’ve been seeing a pattern of defiance whenever my son does not get what he wants.  He will counter what I say with a negotiation, and if he does not get what he wants, out comes “the defiance game.”

This happened on our way home from dads and out the hitting, throwing back-pack at me, and kicking came. Like usual, I tell my son, “You can wait outside, and when you’re ready to respect mom, knock on the door and I’ll let you come in.” (Our basement suite door faces our backyard so I’m usually not concerned about him waiting there.) However this time things went a little differently, because when I opened the door, he was not there!

I ran to the front yard, and all around the house, and he was not there. Looked left and right on the sidewalk, and he was not there!!! (We live on a busy road.) Panic started to set in a little, however I knew he probably went to the school, which is the only logical place I could think he would go based on familiarity. I drove very slowly, looking for him down the streets. I couldn’t see him anywhere!!! I ran to the park and he was nowhere to be found! (The school is about a 7-10 minute walk from our house and to get there you have to cross one road.) This was quite worrisome for me because I know how careless my son can be when crossing the road.

At this point I called his dad and told him he needed to come help me look for him.

How in the world could things have gotten so bad?!? Now I really began to panic because I was sure he would be there! “Did someone take him?” was all that went through my head, as the guilt set in. I started walking down the sidewalk thinking maybe I missed him, and out I spotted his head running from one car to the next behind the cars parked on the side of the road. I hid behind one of the cars because I knew if he saw me he would run away. (This kind of thing becomes a game to him.) As he was running I saw that he kept looking behind him as though he was running fearfully from something or someone. He quickly ran behind a bush and my worry turned from panic to anger to an array of emotions. I saw a jacket of someone disappear a few houses down into another bush. Was that man  just chasing after my son?!!! An almost, “Parents Worst Nightmare” kind of feeling rushed through my body.

Before my son could spot me, I ran straight at him and yelled at the top of my lungs, “What the hell are doing!!! YOU’RE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!” (I probably swore a few times in there, if I’m honest, however I really don’t remember and “minding my language” would have been the last thing I was thinking about.)

I grabbed the kid by the wrist and marched him to the car and told him his dad was coming. A weird man came up close to us and just stood there staring at us. This made me really uncomfortable so I got on the phone with his dad and told him to come to the school. I was hoping he would stay on the line because this man standing by us kept staring at us in a very creepy, way-too-close-to-us kind of way, but his dad hung up the phone of course. The man asked if I saw something happen, and I responded telling him “Yes, I just finished yelling at my son because he just ran away from home.” The man began to tell me how there was someone who just stole the groceries that belonged to a lady sitting at the bus stop down the street. He asked if I saw anything and again just told him “I saw a man run in the bushes but I was so worried thinking about my son, that’s it.”

My son’s dad came and spoke to my son about his actions. My tears began to roll as my son’s tears started up. Although I don’t agree that instilling fear in a child is always healthy, my son surely needed a shakeup, wake up call.

My son “really, really, really” wanted to go to a friend’s house next weekend, however this was his consequence; he was no longer able to go.

Yes, fear, guilt, shame, anger, relief, sorrow and so many more emotions set in for both him and me. This is surely an event that I pray we will never have to go through again. Until then, my faith is in God as I continually put our lives in His hands and know that no matter what the enemy tries to throw at us, Christ in us is WAY stronger than he will ever be.

M.O.A.W.