When the Mama Bear Comes Out… (Happy Easter)

I hate it when it happens. Once again, no self-control when it really counts. I know I’m gonna regret this later, but I do it anyway. I roar my terrible roar at some poor other who has dared to hurt my child in some way. It happened tonight. I failed the test.

Tonight was the first glow-in-the-dark Easter Egg Hunt on base, which sounds pretty awesome, right? Well, it would have been. Except…

It wasn’t very organized, and at one point in the waiting time (before the egg hunt was to begin), some brilliant person yelled out that if about half the kids could cross the field to the other side it would be great. So about half the kids (including Claire and Adam) started rushing across the field (NOT picking up eggs on the way across this full-sized football field). And then it happened: I felt like I was reliving my 5th grade Boomer Sooner reenactment back at Angus Valley Elementary School, only it wasn’t me. It was the fruit of my loins, and they had NO IDEA that they were in the middle of a Boomer Sooner rush. All the kids started furiously egg-hunting, except a few, mine included, who were obediently racing across the football field to position themselves on the other side. By the time Claire and Adam got to the other side of the field (come to find out, they had quickly negotiated a foot race which resulted in a tie), they turned around, only to see that almost all the eggs were already gone. Adam got 2 and Claire got 1. (In case you’re wondering about our other little egg-hunter, NOT surprisingly, Ben abandoned Keith and was quite the little Boomer Sooner, retrieving 13 eggs for himself.)

But Claire just totally lost it when she realized what had happened. We’re talking the works here–the face-contorting, crying, snot-slinging, “THAT WASN’T FAIR!” shouting works. She said she didn’t even care about the candy; she had really looked forward to the egg hunting race, the experience itself. And she was UPSET. REALLY UPSET. Adam was okay. (He’s pretty much always okay.) But I had me a devastated 7 year-old on my hands, one whom I love so, so, so much that her hurt somehow instantaneously translated through my nervous system into anger (maybe even rage?) on my part. I went and found that poor lady who was running the show, the one who told half the kids to cross the field, and I gave her a little piece of my mind, holding the hand of my bawling 7 year-old. My mom says I wasn’t as bad as I think I was. But on the inside, I was BAD. B.A.D. BAD. That poor lady was overwhelmed by what had just accidentally happened and no amends were made really. I kinda bombarded her, and there were several confused and unhappy parents circling her at the moment. I don’t know what I was hoping she’d do. Just fix it somehow. But she didn’t.

It didn’t take me long (like in the car on the way home) to realize that there were some really big lessons in this for both Claire and I. We came home and had a really important conversation about self-control (hers and mine both), and about being gracious when things don’t go your way. I have no qualms about being transparent with my kids, and declaring myself “chief of sinners” when we’re having these kinds of talks. I am no stranger to repentance and they know it. And tonight, after all was said and done, Claire crawled into my lap and wrapped her precious little arms around my neck and we both cried and repented to our Wonderful Heavenly Father, who happily forgave us because we are His daughters and because our sins have already been paid for by the blood of Jesus. We repented together, and asked God to help us the next time things don’t happen our way. So here I am, 30 minutes until it’s officially Easter here in Japan, after a crazy-busy couple of days when I’ve just barely even considered what He did for us that Good Friday, part of me wanting to turn my face away from what He suffered for me because it’s just too much, what He did. But now I’m listening. Now I’m remembering. And with all my heart I’m hoping and trusting and believing that “He who began a good work in me [and my daughter] will be faithful to complete it.” Oh, how He loves us. If you haven’t seen this before, I beg you to watch this and let Him melt away the hard places of your heart into love, love, love, love, love for your Beautiful Savior:

About cashclan

Lisa is a grateful, born-again follower of Jesus Christ who has spent her adult life on the Gospel in several global contexts. She is the wife of one wonderful, jungle-gym of a man, who is to her the single most ravishing piece of flesh on planet earth (stolen good-heartedly from Christine Caine). She is a dedicated home educator to their four beautiful children, ages 6 to 12, whom she would be happy to gush over any time. She is an avid reader and a storyteller, an aspiring writer, a missionary to the nations and a singer of His praises, a loyal friend, an obsessive-compulsive Googler, and comedienne extraordinaire on her best days. She would also like to think that she is a loyal and loving, truth-telling friend.
This entry was posted in Blog, Lisa's Blog, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to When the Mama Bear Comes Out… (Happy Easter)

  1. MIchelle says:

    I’m so sorry for Claire!! I hate those easter egg hunts. They never go well, so we never go. Its much to upsetting and traumatizing! Your mama bear would be better than my Terrible Trex that comes out!

  2. Starr says:

    Even my always-okay-Adam-like-personality can morph into Mama Bear on occasion. Happens to is all. Good for you for later taming the beast and having a sweet moment with Claire. Love those times. Miss you much.

  3. Ugh, I hate them too. We skipped the big one this morning because we thought there would be less chaos at this one. Good call, huh?

  4. Starr, I honestly can’t imagine you turning Mama Bear. I’m trying. I can’t.

    • Starr says:

      Okay, so it’s only happened like twice. (And three or four more times in defense of my husband.) And I think I was very pregnant and hormonal on all occasions. Still counts.

  5. Well, I’d like to have seen it. (And nothing counts during pregnancy! Those are freebie months!)

  6. Teena Hester says:

    I wanted to blast her myself, but instead I took the kids around the field to look and see if there by chance was an egg left. They cried as we were walking and then we started singing. By the time we got back to the car we too learned a lesson about timing and behavior. So i took them to get some candy and all was well.. I too go very crazy when some one hurts my young. I am learning self control on that part along with you Lisa..

  7. I wish I would have just walked away! One of these days, I’ll learn this lesson. (He keeps testing me over and over and over again.)

  8. Judy Huffman says:

    Lisa,
    What a lovely moment you were able to share with Claire because of this. My kids are much older but I’m finding so many moments these days to share with them about the virtues of self-restraint, kindness, and generosity in all situations. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to say “how can we make this situation better, not worse” (unfortunately I’m mostly talking to myself!) . We’ve had so many good discussions about how people will judge us by our responses to the situations. Of course they always bring humor to the discussion. I was talking to Nick about how “honey catches more flies than vinegar” he responded “yeah but poop catches the most!!!” Oh, my how I laughed

    • Oh my gosh, Judy, that’s hysterical. THAT’S what you get for teaching kids to think critically–delightfully snarky wit. 🙂 You’re in the home stretch over there! How old are your kids now? I can’t even imagine being near the “finish line”!!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s