The Gift of Compassion

I am going to be painfully honest with you… this has not been a gold-star parenting week at our house.  I wish I could tell you our life is all sunshine and roses and every smiling social media photo you saw of us gave an accurate picture- but that would be total lie.  When I began the ministry of One Life Out Loud, I vowed that it would be just that- an honest “life out loud” glimpse into what I am experiencing and how God is shaping me.  So, while I’m pretty embarrassed to recount the last few days for you, I’m going to do it anyway, because it is the truth.

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For the past year, (a) has been at war with sleep.  We have no trouble getting him to bed at night (well, no more than the typical three year old), but he does not stay in bed.  He is up multiple times in the night, every night, and we cannot find a solution for the problem.  Trust me- we have tried nearly everything you can imagine.  As a result of the lack of sleep, we often find ourselves dealing with a cranky, unreasonable child.  Sunday morning was no exception to our problem of his typical exhaustion, however it was an exception to our usual routine… it was (b)’s baby dedication Sunday at church.  We were blessed to have family and friends make the trip to be with us for the service, and since “our people” were there, (a) chose to stay with us in the sanctuary instead of going to children’s church.  During the service he was a little more active and noisier than I would have liked, but his body language made it very clear he was fighting sleep.  I was hopeful that most people wouldn’t be able to notice due to where we were sitting, however during the last song of the service he escaped the pew and ran up to the front where (A) was wrapping up the service.  I winced a little, but reminded myself that it did look sweet to see the preacher standing up front with his little boy in his arms.  THEN, it came time for the last two baby dedications and the fight for sleep became intense.  As (A) sat him down, he proceeded to lay in the middle of the stage steps, and then cried in front of the entire church when he had to move.  I was horrified.  I was embarrassed, we work SO hard at impressing politeness and appropriate behavior and here in front of the whole church he was NOT showing that he had any clue how he should be acting. 

We managed to survived the next few minutes and made sure he had a great nap that afternoon, however after evening service we had a reboot of the tears (very LOUD tears) because Daddy had to stay after for a meeting and (a) REALLY wanted him to come home with us.  As I was strapping him into his car seat he continued to sob for his daddy.  At that time, two ladies I love and admire walked out of the church toward their own cars and overheard the tears.  I was horrified, as this was the second time in one day they were witnessing a meltdown and I was feeling like a complete failure as a mom.  They both detoured from their own cars and headed over my direction.  What happened next was such a blessing.  Instead of commenting on the behavior of my exhausted three-year-old, they reminded me that they had been there too once, and that no one is judging our parenting as harshly as I am.  One of them hugged me and praised my patience with him while the other reminded me that it was ok to ask for help when I need an extra hand.  Their gracious compassion almost brought me to tears.  I had spent a lot of emotional energy that day stressing over the situation, and to have someone (or two someones) react with love and support meant the world to me.

There have been some moments of sweetness between tears!

I wish I could tell you the rest of the week got better, but I’m being brutally honest, so I will admit we had a repeat performance of exhausted tears in “The Green Store” (Dollar Tree) Monday evening.  And this time, as (a) fell to the floor crying (b) decided to start crying as well.  I frantically tried to gather them both and get checked out to escape as quickly as possible.  I was frustrated because we really hadn’t finished getting everything we needed, but I knew I needed to cut my losses and get out of there.  As I checked out with both boys crying, I was on the verge of tears myself.  I didn’t even want to meet the cashier’s eyes because I was so embarrassed.  However, her face was full of compassion as she kindly said, “He is over-tired isn’t he?” I admitted that he was and apologized for his crying.  Her voice was reassuring as she went on to tell me she had a little one also and completely understood the shoes I was standing in.  She graciously asked in the same gentle voice if I needed any help out to the car.  It was only one bag, so I was sure I could do it, but I thanked her profusely for her offer and her understanding.  A second act of compassion, as I was about to chalk myself up as the worst mother in the world, had been a game changer for me. 

There were still some pretty stiff consequences when we arrived home for the “Green Store” meltdown, and I have no answers as to how we fix this not sleeping/exhaustion problem.  But I do know this… compassion is a precious gift.  Three ladies in 24 hours reminded my heart why it is so important to reach out in love.  They could easily had avoided us and walked to their cars or the cashier could have been huffy with me for the loud scene we were making in her store, but none of them did- they instead touched my heart.

As we head into a season that gets busy and sometimes stressful, I am promising myself I am going to look for opportunities to gift others with compassion.  It may be just what their heart needs to hear.

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3: 22-23