Just One More Chance

It was my turn to help Blythe get to bed tonight (Kent and I take turns).  I had been reading Flora and Ulysses to both children, so when we went up, I took Blythe's books she needed to read for school.  She didn't want to do it, but after some convincing on my part, she agreed.  She read one book once (she has to read them three times each) but then was fiddling around and wouldn't start a second time.  I was encouraging, but after about five minutes, I gave up.  I put the books down and turned off the light.  She began having a fit, saying, "Mom! I want you to help me! I want to read my baggie books!"

Very calmly I told her I was too tired to continue, I was too tired to deal with her pushing me any more.  I told her I would stay with her for a bit longer and help her get to sleep if she would lie down and stop fussing, but if she continued to carry on, I was going away.  I laid down and she began to hit me, yelling, "I WANT YOU TO HELP ME!"  Still calmly, I got up, said goodnight, and walked out, stopping in Brandt's room to apologize that she was likely to carry on for some time to come.  Then I went downstairs.

Blythe continued to shriek, screaming "MOM!!!!!" at the top of her lungs.  So restful.  When she began screaming for Kent, I went back up.  I said to her, "Blythe, I gave you the chance to read and then I gave you a chance to have me lie down with you.  You made a choice.  I don't think it was a good choice, but it was the choice you made.  I'm sorry.  You have lost the chance to have me be with you and now you must go to sleep.  Stop shrieking."

In a small, considerably less fierce voice she said, "Mom, will you give me just one more chance?"

My initial response was no.  I had been patient, I had given her the opportunity to reconsider her actions, and she had made her choice.  But then she asked again.  "Mom, will you give me just one more chance?"

I thought about my propensity to sin and sin and then sin again.  Do I want to?  Not really.  Do I?  Yes.  All the time.  And do I turn to God, humbled and repentant and ask, "Will you give me just one more chance?"  And He does.  He gives me just one more chance, every time I ask.  He doesn't draw away.  He pulls me in, lovingly patient with my continued struggle to be a better daughter.

So I laid down next to Blythe.  I said a little prayer, I snuggled her, and I sang several songs to help her relax and be calmer.  Her baggie books did not get read, but she and I ended the day positively, and that is far more important.  She is square with me, and I hope I am square with God.