Today I Yelled at My Children

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It was a bad day, by all accounts.

The children were told last night that we would need their cooperation today. Their rooms need to be cleaned and there was much laundry to do. We all have a busy week and weekend coming up. It was crucial that they help out so we could all be prepared.

By 11am it was clear that they had completely disregarded everything we had asked of them.

The boys had scattered and were playing with LEGOs downstairs (amidst a disastrous mess in the would-be school room), the little ones were outside playing fighting with each other, and just one child was straightening up her room.

My patience was tried. It didn’t take much…

I yelled at my children.

[pinit]

I tore into them about the tasks they were given that they were choosing to ignore. When I questioned their in-action, all I got in return were blank stares and shoulder shrugs.

I re-issued their assignments and went to tend my own. I had laundry to complete and I am in the middle of planning the coming school year.

Less than an hour later they had resumed the foolishness and carrying on, doing everything except that which they were tasked.

Every giggle of play and every dig of argument grated on my nerves.

I yelled again.

Once again I reminded them of my expectations. I reminded them of what was ahead of us this weekend. I told them about their golf clinic this evening… all the things they wouldn’t be doing if they could not complete their chores.

As I left their room to collect my next basket of laundry, I knew.

I knew they hadn’t heard a thing that I had just said.

When I raise my voice they stop listening.

From far too many mess-ups than I’d like to admit, I know that my children stop taking me serious when I raise my voice. I know I did the same thing to my mom as I was growing up. The louder the bark, the harder we work to ignore it.

In the height of my frustration I had forsaken the intention of my mothering.

It isn’t about the messy room. It isn’t about the laundry. It isn’t about the myriad of tasks we give them to do. It is about their hearts.

I’m tempted to justify my reaction. “They disobeyed.” “They’re old enough to know better.” “I’ve repeated myself too many times.”

But that is a lie. There is no justification for my choice of action. My responsibility is to His word, and His word speaks clearly:

Fathers, do not exasperate your children, so that they will not lose heart. Colossians 3:21

What happens next? I admitted my sin to my  Heavenly Father. Tomorrow, if He gives me breath, I’ll have the opportunity to regain some ground with my children. To point them to His word, to point to Him. To disciple.

We don’t want their outward obedience and behavior. We want to know that their hearts are ultimately turned toward Him and believe that only then will we see the other fruits we long for.

 I want to be a discipler, not a disciplinarian.

I know that this won’t be the last time I fail. Every time these issues arise I realize that God is still doing a lot of work on my own heart. He keeps giving me reminders to put on the new self.

I’m thankful He hasn’t forsaken me out of frustration when I fail. I pray that I will show grace and mercy to my children, through His power.

 How do you handle the times when you fail?

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