The sun not scorch them

I can remember adults laughing and encouraging children to scream profanity at one another and "fight back". It was so ingrained in us that by the time we were teens it was a kill or be killed environment in our homes, at school, even in our friendships.  I was a master at keeping everyone at arms length while finding their cracks so if ever the need arose, I could take them apart subtly, over time, with well placed, poison laced, barbs of humiliation aimed at their most personal, deeply hidden, insecurities.

I was a master at subterfuge but now I am changed, a God kind of changed, and had I even bothered to remember the names of all my conquests I would scarcely be able to make up for the level of emotional torture I caused in my sick quest for power and self importance.  I am, frankly, aghast at the person I once was.  God has changed me so much that it seems I only read about that villain in a twisted novel in which evil was written the leading role.

Today, I marveled at the fact that at a year and two months old my daughter can hug me and say "I love you". That she tells people "thank you" and my son is the most beautiful little man I've ever known, when he isn't hitting his sister.  As my husband was tying up the trash bag, I bent down and picked up an empty bottle that had fallen and added it to the collection before the knot was finalized. 'Riah said "Thank you, Mommy." and I asked , "What?".  He said, "You helped Daddy".

For a moment I was dumbstruck at the implications of his expression of gratitude.  He was appreciating my kindness for someone other than himself?! at nearly 3?! I am overcome by thankfulness for the love in my life.  God has changed me so efficiently that I am writing on these blank little slates He's given me and they, in turn, will show the world a love that my universe never knew growing up.

Just before bed I asked 'Riah, "Who made us?", thinking he would be baffled at the question but wasting no time he responded, "God".  And here, between God, Cornerstone Family Church, and us at home is where my prayers are answered because David was a man after God's heart but many of his children fell away. The cry of my soul is that my life would be such an example and that God would see fit to put such a helping of His spirit in my babies that for generations my lineage would sing high the praises of the most high, that long after I am dust and gone even from memory my heritage know His love. I don't want to be famous or publish a testament to my own literary skill. I don't need fifteen minutes on TV or any personal luxury or glory. 

Every fiber of my being aches to be an example of selfLESSness and love and to plant seeds that will bear fruit delectable to my Maker long after my name is not even a whisper on this earth.  Today some of those seeds pushed up out of the ground and unfurled their tiny little leaves and I pray the sun not scorch them, teenage years not trample them, and I never tire of feeding them good example even when I am so tired I'd rather close the door and take a bath instead of teach my tantrum throwing kids how to be kind to each other with long suffering persistence.