Dirty Hands, Clean Hearts

Sometimes my kids cause me well up with pride. It could be when they do something especially nice for someone or when they remember to make their bed without being told. It could be a dinner where they clean their plates, all the while complimenting my choice of vegetables for a meal. When I hear a good report from a teacher or see an awesome score on a spelling test, I think that's my kid. Sometimes one of them will say something clever or poignant or hilarious. These are the moments that I like to blog about. These are the true TEACH moments and the golden TICKLE moments. When they happen, it's like something kicks on in my brain and I make a little mental note - blogworthy material, take notes, don't forget.

I'm not so vain to believe that the twelve people who read this blog hang on every aspect of my children's lives, but I do like to record these things for posterity sake. I want to remember them. I want the kids to remember them. So, I blog about them.

Funny thing though. Life is not just made up of moments when my kids make me proud. In fact, sometimes my kids make me downright ashamed. Like when Jonah somehow forgets basic hygiene techniques and can't seem to remember how to wash his hands. (Seriously, you can almost see the dirt and germs having a party on his hands these days.) Or when either of the kids spend a good 30 solid minutes sitting in public picking their nose. Or when I have to tell the kids for the fourth time NOT to crawl under the table during dinner. And let's not forget about the dreaded "Hannah tantrum" over silly things like what to wear in the morning. Then you don't want to get me started on all the short bus things my kids have done. (I seriously worry that Jonah's IQ dropped by at least 20 points when he lost his two front teeth. Short bus. That's all I have to say. Please let his teeth grow in quickly.) These are the moments that I do NOT want to blog about. The times when I feel like a failure and wish I didn't have to do this hard work we call parenting.

But the simple truth is this: God uses those difficult moments to TEACH or TICKLE me too. He doesn't just use the "blogworthy" moments. In fact, sometimes the best (albeit, hardest) lessons come when I am humbled by my outstanding imperfections. These are the times that I am more apt to turn to God instead of myself. These are the times that I do more of what I am supposed to do all the time - I pray. I bathe those tantrum throwing, nose picking, dirty handed kids in fervent prayer. It's usually around this time that I realize that I very well might fail my kids in teaching them the basics of personal hygiene (heaven forbid!), but I will NOT fail my kids by forgetting to pray for them. In the end, cleaning dirty hands takes a back seat to praying for clean hearts.