Originally posted September 28, 2013.
I recently had a very grown-up talk with my third grader. We talked, it went well, I put her to bed, and then I cried for half the night and most of the next morning. I cried partly because we live in a world where you now have to have grown up talks with eight year olds. And I cried because I wondered if I had done the right thing. And I cried because I thought of fifty other things I wish I had said and a hundred better ways that I could’ve phrased things.
And just as I was reaching the level of self-inflicted panic and paranoia and depression, I realized that I had not, even one time, prayed about our talk. I didn’t even think of sitting down with God and hearing what He might want to impress upon me through the Holy Spirit. Since I’m a better-late-than-never type gal, I prayed a little late. And I asked God to bless what I had said to Adelade, as imperfect as it was, and I asked Him to somehow bless her with my words.
Suddenly, I felt better.
Not because I was any less concerned about what I had said. I still felt the weight of that responsibility. But, I felt better because I remembered that Chad and I aren’t alone in the raising of these kids. I remembered that every weakness that I have gives God even more opportunity to do what He does best: save the day. God can take my feeble presentation and He can redeem it for goodness in Adelade’s life. He can help her feel my love and concern. He can speak to her in His special and secret and beautiful ways through what I said to her.
Even when I feel like I blew it.
He is so gracious like that. So, I have continued to pray this prayer, and I will continue to pray it. So that when she thinks about this difficult topic or when she has questions that I need to answer, God will speak to her in amazing ways and will whisper His word into her heart. He’s backing me up. And He’s going before me.
Basically, He is all over this thing.
I know that my words matter so much to my children. When the hard topics come up, and when the grown-up talks have to happen, I am so conscious of the importance of what I tell them. I’m just so thankful that, just a little bit late (but better late than never) I remembered that my words can be transformed by His power. He can take my okay-ness and turn it into His greatness.
I’m trusting Him to do that. My kids need His greatness.
And, the truth is, they need my okay-ness, too. Praise God.