the story

Sometimes I feel like I have 3 daughters – Sofia, Isabel, and Isabel’s evil alternate personality. Both girls give me their share of problems, but Isabel has a way of taking “problems” to the extreme.  When she was a baby, she was this happy, smiley social baby who would coo and giggle and literally stop people in their tracks at the grocery store.  And then her alter ego would appear and she would scream and cry for hours at a time for no apparent reason.  I hoped she’d outgrow it.  I’m still hoping…

I read this book when Isabel was a toddler called Raising Your Spirited Child.  I loved that it used the term “spirited” instead of “difficult” or “defiant” or even “strong willed.”  Because that’s what my Isabel is – spirited.  Full of life and love and spirit.  The book talked about how “spirited” children are “more” of everything.  She’s more loving, compassionate, and giving and she’s more emotional, angry and anxious. She’s more aware of other people’s feelings and more likely to internalize their feelings as her own. Isabel is the emotional barometer of our house – she usually knows that I’m stressed even before I do.  It’s a gift and I truly mean that.  But it also feels a bit like a curse sometime.  I often ask God why He would put so much struggle into such a tenderhearted kid, but then I wouldn’t trade that tender heart for a million hearts that were stronger and more resilient.  So this task of parenting, of spiritual parenting this child who is “more”, requires so much more.  I need to depend on God’s wisdom to teach this precious little girl He’s entrusted me with.  Some days are stories of success, others of failure.  Today's story is a little of both...

I truly wish this was the story of our morning...
for the real story, keep reading

“Mommy, can I wear some lip gloss?”  Still asleep, I squinted at Isabel, standing there in her Christmas dress.  We have this rule that regular clothes are not for dress up. However, as I reminded her of this rule, my sweet Christmas-dress-wearing-daughter exploded.  There was screaming and shouting and foot stamping and general refusal to obey anything I said.  An epic showdown ensued that eventually ended with Isabel storming off to her room.  As I lay in my bed thinking of every cruel and unusual punishment I could bring down on my daughter, I asked God for wisdom.  Because while I know that her actions certainly merit a consequence, I also know that no amount of punishing is going to change the problem at the root of all of this, which is her inability to regulate her emotions.  If you’ve ever seen a child who struggles with sensory issues, you’ve seen how a seemingly insignificant thing – a blinking light, or a crowded movie theatre – can send them into sensory overload and they are unable to regulate their reaction.  That’s how Isabel is with her emotions.  She has zero tolerance for her own feelings.  There is no “small” emotion – everything is felt deeply, pervasively, with the power of a hurricane.  And then we lose her, she loses herself, and I can’t help but lose my faith for a moment and fear that one day we will lose her and I won’t be able to bring her back.   But I digress…

When we ask God for wisdom, He promises to give it to us.  And so as I stepped into Isabel’s room to check on her, I prayed hard for His wisdom to guide my words and decisions.  There sat my little girl, my spirited, big-hearted, more of everything little girl, hands in her lap, completely composed and waiting.  As if nothing had happened.  I handed her a piece of paper and asked her to write 20 appropriate strategies she could choose to use when she got upset.   

When she finished, I had her write the story of our morning, only instead of writing about her meltdown, she was to change the ending to include one of the strategies she had listed.  What began with “I asked for lip gloss” and ended with “I screamed and shouted and stomped my foot” became “I asked for lip gloss” and ended with “I started to get upset and so I went to draw a picture.”

I allowed her to re-write her story.

Because isn’t that what God offers us?  The chance to rewrite our story?  What began with “I sinned” and ended with “my sin separated me for eternity from God” is now “I sinned” and ends with “Jesus took my punishment and I am God’s child.”  Certainly we face consequences for our sin, but God’s grace offers us forgiveness and a chance to be part of his Great Story. 

That’s what I want Isabel to know more than anything.  While her choices will bring consequences, good or bad, her God loves her unconditionally and wants to rewrite her story.  His grace offers her a missional role in His Story.  And no matter what, she can run to Him, regardless of where her story may be going.  God, the Author of Life has a happy ending just for her. 

Hopefully that happy ending includes dress up :)