There’s a richness and prophetic insight to Suzannah Paul‘s words that I cannot get enough of. She fights for justice in the best of ways, through powerful peace. Over to Suzannah:
They’re willful, the both of them. Like their mama, I suppose. Not much for people pleasing or authority. (Like their mama?)
Parenting is a struggle most days. We’re on the same team. Team Paul! I speak it like prophecy, but it feels more like a battle of attrition. They are small but mighty, their reserves and stamina unmatched.
I never wanted a fight, but they’d die on every hill, and I’m outnumbered. We pray disarmament.
We listen with our ears. I listen with my ears.
We speak kind words. I speak kind words. I’m sorry.
We help with our hands. I help with my hands, gently now.
We love each other. And we do, so very much.
—
The seasons change, and so do we. Some days are brighter. I make a friend. We tell the truth and we remember they are little. We’re all imperfect and we’re trying. So are they.
They disagree. One hits. The other cries. Make it right, I say. They apologize, hug it out, and all’s forgotten.
But me, I pick my wounds and hold it against you. As tough as they are, they forgive lavishly and teach us. We’re unlearning. Their mercy exposes the anger our hearts harbor.
Its poison generational, we pray to break the cycle. We lay it down—and lapse—and lay it down again, speaking life.
New mercies are for parents, too.
—
Spring lies waiting. It’s twenty-odd degrees, but daffodils arise unflappable. If they can believe in spite of the evidence, so can we.
You’re best friends. I speak it like prophecy. The words-make-flesh and dwell among us.
We are, mama. We’re best friends.
Pilgrim, perceiver, and feminist-poet-mama, Suzannah Paul writes love letters to the broken, beautiful Church at the smitten word. Home is (and isn’t) a western Pennsylvania summer camp where she lives the life bucolic and dreams of cityscapes.
News on God and Suffering series: next week will be the last ‘God and Suffering’ post for a while, though it will hopefully return in September. It has been amazing to host it, and I’m looking forward to hearing more stories in the future. But for now, I’ll be taking a break.
Over to you:
- What things do you need to speak like prophecy over your life?
Liked this post? Do stay in touch – subscribe by email or like my Facebook page.
I’ve come across this late, but had to comment to tell you how much this blesses me today, when it feels like I am losing my mind with my 3yr old. I have just begged him to not make any more bad choices today, because I don’t think I can take any more… he very seriously assured me he wouldn’t. And I’m sure he means it – for at least the next minute! I need to remember that he is little, and he is sweet, and he loves me so much. I also need to remember how much more I love him than all the things he has broken today… and your post is helping me do that.
Thank you! Maybe we can make the rest of the day a happy one…
oh, yes. now if i could just let this truth sink deep: ‘tell the truth and remember *I* am little.’ that might get me through most days. and help me make a friend of my mighty seven.
love this.
I love this and tell my little (fighting) girls that they are best friends, too. And my brother really is, truly is, forever more my very best friend…so there is hope.
Oh the battle! The same fights over and again – between them, between me and them, between me and God!! We’re all still learning.
Grateful to hear it from someone else’s heart too. xxx
Suzannah,
Somewhere along the way we decide that we will not be so quick to forgive; that it should cost the person more to assuage the hurt. We dig in and decide to wait till they do something that will show their quilt and their remorse to the right degree or else we withhold. The sad thing is when we withhold forgiveness it changes us; makes us less worthy of forgiveness ourselves as we are setting ourselves up as judge and jury. If we hang onto it long enough we can create bitterness in our soul that forever will be hard to dig up and throw away.
That we would hang on to that quick forgiveness; the quick return to friendship; the quick forgetfulness of the hurt; the quick moving on.
Happy Birthday Tanya!!