It was cleaning time and I was on a rampage. Everything in my path was getting either pitched out or put away! After a while, the house was beginning to look a little better.
Then I stepped into my daughter’s room.
The floor was so messy I could hardly step through it. And I literally could feel my blood pressure rising, as my vision began turning blurry. Why did it always have to be this way? Was none of the training getting through?
It was one of those moments when I wanted to hang my head and cry. It was feeling like one step forward, two steps back. I taught, trained, and disciplined . . . but I still felt like a failure.
Instead, my defense mechanism kicked into high gear and I began giving short, sharp orders. I could feel anger creeping into my heart as I wanted to throw the nearest toy as hard as I could into the toy box.
Picking up trash laying around, I crumpled them up and tossed them into the trash can. I didn’t even ask if some of it was trash – I just pitched. All I could see anymore was the animals, cars, papers, and toys that were strewn over every surface available.
Looking at my daughter, I no longer saw her. Instead I saw a messy room.
Kneeling down, I picked up a small paper – aiming to crumple it in my hand. But something stopped me in my tracks.
There on the paper were these words that had been penciled in by my daughter’s hand:
“I want to see Jesus’ face.”
Conviction flooded my soul.
Oh God. That hurts so bad. I can’t breathe. What kind of a monster have I become that I have so missed the heart of my child?
She had not written that she wanted to be like mommy. She had not written that she wanted to always keep a clean room so that Mommy would be happy.
Her little heart’s cry was placed into my hand that day . . . and I wanted to weep. She had wanted to see the face of Jesus.
Had she even been able to glimpse His shadow in her own mommy?
That little note brought me to a halt faster than anything else could have done. I will never view my daughter’s messy room the same way again.
Instead, I am learning to stop and listen to the whispers that come from my precious daughter’s heart. And pray that someday, we will be able to view the face of Jesus – together.
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