I didn't get the children I was 'supposed' to get. I saw them yesterday on a book in my church's library. Their names are Jeff and Julie. If my memory serves me correctly (and it often does NOT) they are the curriculum children of a publication from Standard Publishing from the late 1970's. Jeff and Julie were kind, loving and very well mannered. And, when they were not, they were easily corrected, and appreciated that correction.
The husband God gave me and I used to teach very young children, beginning when we were 15 years old. I was sure that the darling blonde haired blue eyed Jeff and Julie were God's will for my life.
Had Jeff and Julie been MY children, scenes like this would never have happened at my house:
Giggles are heard, followed by a loud crash, and then a sustained scream. Youngest Boy appears with an obviously broken arm (note to self: there was only 1 Jeff and 1 Julie). Self righteous looking Daughter appears announcing that it was not her fault. Youngest Boy was DANCING on her bed. I reminded her that we do NOT push people off of beds. She reminded me that we do not DANCE on them either. Julie would have lovingly shown her youngest brother (which she did not have) from the Bible that it is not right to disobey the rules. He would have looked deeply into her eyes and agreed with her. Then, holding hands and skipping, they would have come to tell me of Youngest Boy's sin. We would have hugged. I would have had a small tear roll down my cheek, but quickly gone back to kneading bread.
But, Daughter did get hers. After AWANA. At our house, AWANA night was always the worst night of the week. The children came home pumped full of energy, and carrying king sized candy bars. Had they been Jeff and Julie, they would have announced to their AWANA leader that just hiding God's Word in their heart was enough for them, no candy was necessary. Oldest Son and Daughter were fighting in her bedroom. Daughter wiggled her bottom in Oldest Son's face (i never did quite get the WHOLE story). Again, this should NOT be done. One thing we do have in our family is a strong sense of justice. Youngest Daughter received the broken fingers to prove it. The most severely broken of the fingers allowed her for many weeks to be in the hand position to 'flip off' the world. Again, Jeff and Julie would have responded in an entirely different, loving and less costly manner.
God knew best. He always does. My children are wonderful beyond my wildest dreams. But, they certainly aren't Jeff and Julie.
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3 comments:
I'm feeling so smug. So far, none of my kids have broken any other kids' bones! Woo-hoo! (Funny story, Judy, as usual.)
Hey. Do you have my kids?
OK, it's not as though she shook her butt in my face and in response I grabbed her fingers, snapped them, and said, "That'll learn ya." It was playful. She shook her butt, ran into your room and jumped onto your bed (as she pointed out, this is not done). I gave chase, and leapt on top of her. She put her hands out as though to catch me. ME. I am huge and always have been; she, likewise, has always been rather small and thin. I, following Newton's laws admirably, was unable to curb my trajectory and landed on her outstretched hands, thus breaking her fingers.
Of course, I did feel very bad about it.
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