If P is my Walter Mitty, R is my Alex P. Keaton. He prefers leather driving mocs to crocs and hasn't worn a pair of jeans since he was four.
His intensity extends far beyond such surface examples. Passionate, verbal, competitive and very strong willed, R has a lot to say about a lot of subjects. He's constantly sharing his thoughts, plans and ideas--with loads of confidence and leadership.
God can surely one day use these traits to accomplish major things for the kingdom, but navigating all this in a 3rd grader's body with not-quite ten year old maturity can be very frustrating to my boy and incredibly taxing on a Mama.
I've been told I was a lot like my dimpled, verbose son as a child--which may be why, in weak moments, I find myself reverting to that version of me to go toe-to-toe with my boy. (That never ends well, by the way.)
I know God is writing his story--and by virtue of the human condition, it will not be one of perfection. His path, like mine will be marked by bumps, bruises and the occasional battle scar from this broken world.
Honestly, I think I fight so hard for him because I have many of those wounds--from being blinded by passion, saying too much at the wrong time, pushing too hard and/or failing to humble myself to the leadership of others.
I want to spare my son the very experiences that God used to sanctify me and make me who I am. As much as I adore this child, I have to remember he was God's idea. There is a plan for his life.
And I am afraid.
I fear he won't learn to bridle that tongue, control that hot temper, cool some of his fire. It frightens me to think of the implications on his relationships. The brokenness that will precede the healing.
It all boils down to a faith issue for me...am I going to trust the Creator of this little person or cave to my fear?
If I allow myself to start down that slippery slope of 'what ifs,' I write into the story future chapters I am afraid of, instead of allowing The Author write it. When I snatch the pen from God's hand and fast forward several years to teens or adulthood, I forget that RIGHT NOW there is a ten year old standing in front of me. I have no idea what twists and turns God will use to draw my children unto Himself. I cannot rush ahead. I must be here.
Fear rarely leads to good decisions--and is an ineffective partner in parenting.
I have a responsibility to my boy--and that is to see him right now, love him right here, guide him as God reveals--and finding my heart sanctified in the process.
This doesn't mean an absence of discipline, but it does mean a change in perspective. Exhaling the fear and breathing in faith...Parenting in the now and for eternity.
This journey is not for sissies.