When Little Hands are Fighting

[bl]W[/bl]e’ve been invaded. By a virus that has lingered and sucked the energy right out of us. And by fear, an even worse enemy that sucks you of everything, stops you right in your tracks, and keeps you from living. Advil has helped. Wine has numbed. But only true healing comes from The Healer himself. Though I’ve had to sit at his feet and wait, God has been faithful to give me words of encouragement that calm my spirit and remind me that healing is near.

Our days of illness were filled with a lot of quiet. Not the quiet we’ve been intentionally stepping into as a family during this season of Lent. The kind that simply comes with being on the couch, snuggling and waiting for fevers to pass and headaches to lift. And we waited. And waited. Over two weeks later we are finally feeling delivered. And we are thankful.

But now our home is full of increasing energy — the kind that makes us a bit wild and ornery. The kind that makes us want to scream when we look out our April window and see winter. (Spring always comes….right?)

Today, the tension was building, feet were kicking, fingers were pinching, boys were fighting and one very frustrated mother had a very good idea. Quiet. What we need is some quiet. The real kind. The healing kind.

The lights go out, we all sit and I start with a prayer that might have been a bit passive aggressive or manipulative — or maybe just brilliant — for I prayed to God in front of my children about their behavior. There was no way they could defend themselves or blame the others or challenge my perspective on the events of the day. They simply had to sit and be quiet…and listen. And when I finish, the quiet sets in and I know they are thinking about my words.

And I sit knowing that these child hands that have been rough and angry today need to be loving today.

So I gather my children to the floor for a family massage session. We take turns squeezing shoulders, karate chopping backs, and scratching arms. Without giving a speech on gentleness and kindness, without disciplining for bursts of anger and hurting siblings — I simply found a quiet moment to encourage these still learning hands to touch each other in loving ways.

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And they started smiling.

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And boys will always be boys….even in the quiet. This is their idea of a head massage!

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In the quiet we are able to hear God’s ideas on how to love and teach. Instead of reacting to my children today, I was able to respond, with love and grace.