It Hurt

I knew I had to do it the moment he walked onto the deck. Owen had asked for candy. I told him no. He went and got it anyway.

If you don't know Owen (you know...all you fans out there who admire me from afar), he is my strong-willed child. He can paint me into a corner with his arguing. He can wear me out with his questions. And he gets his way because of it far more than he should.

Earlier he asked his dad if they could make a fire in the fire pit tonight. As he walked down the deck stairs, I motioned to him to come over to me. I told him to open his mouth. I took a sniff. Sugar.

He admitted he had a Mike and Ike candy, with a happy face and a happy dance, and then said happily, "Sorry!"

I told him I was very sorry, but he was grounded to his room until bed. Bed was really only 30 minutes away, but he would miss staying up late for the fire. That doesn't seem like a big deal, except that this 6 year old loves fire. Adventure. Sticks. Boy things. A fire is a big deal, the highlight of the night. But there are very few opportunities for me to discipline him this clearly. It's so hard to find something he really loves to take away from him. And with school starting next week, I have been trying hard to reign in the bad behavior and create some more structure around here!

I didn't get a whine, I got a heart-broken cry. A sad cry. No temper tantrum, just defeated, shrugged shoulders as he went up to his room. A few minutes later he came back outside and asked very nicely if there was anything he could do to not be grounded. Ooooh, he was working it hard.

We gave Asher the chance to put off the fire until a day when his brother could be a part of it, but he wasn't interested in that. After the fire was going, I went up to see Owen. I hugged him and he hugged me back and whimpered. A lot of whimpering. We talked about how adults have consequences for their bad choices all the time, and I wanted him to learn this lesson while he is young. It was so clear to me that this is what God does- let's us live in the consequences of our sin and bad choices, so that we develop character. So that we realize that the momentary indulgence was not worth what it produced.

He asked me to lay down with him and snuggle (he was getting tired.) I wanted to leave him and go back out to the fire, but I thought about how God treats us. He doesn't remove His presence from us when we're repentant. He enters into our pain. He comforts us. He lives there with us. He came to earth to live in our stuff. So I stayed. I held him til he fell asleep.

This sounds like such a small, daily lesson, but it was so painful taking something fun away. I was so tempted to let it slide. But something in me told me this was it. A hundred dollar lesson for a nickel mistake.

Here's hoping.