You could say of me that I used to be a good mom. There was a time, not so very long ago, when my house used to be clean more often than not, my children obeyed happily, their rooms were neat at least once a day, and I didn't go to bed at night with guilt. My children knew that I loved God, and they wanted to love Him, too. They knew that I loved them, and they loved me back.
What changed?
They used to eagerly clean their rooms before bedtime so that we could all sit on the floor while I told them stories. I told tales of the princess Fiona, and the adventures she and her father had as they went on a journey to see the world. I told tales of two little mice brothers and their nightly escapades, brotherly squabbles, and lessons learned. And when I'd left off the story at an appropriately suspenseful moment, it was time to tuck them in bed and sing songs until they fell asleep. I would stand in the doorway and softly sing songs like Jesus loves me and Sanctuary.
Why did I ever stop? Now my children's rooms are rarely clean and never neat. If I asked them to have their rooms clean before bed, they would collapse in tears at the prospect. Now the only songs I sing are during family devotions, or the silly ditties I make up to sing to the babies. Now my middle children are lucky if I read them a short story before bed, and they certainly don't expect me to sing to them. They never ask.
They used to ask. It was not a sudden change. It began with an "I'm SO tired tonight; let's just go to bed." Then came the thought, "It takes too much imagination to keep going with these stories; perhaps if I don't tell them to clean their rooms they won't ask for a story." And so the slide began. Until it had been a week with no stories, a week with no songs. And then the rooms were harder to clean. Without my prompting every day, it became more of a chore, and it was a real effort to clean and earn the privilege of story time, so I would instead be asked to read a book. Occasionally they would ask me to sing, but it became easier to refuse. Bedtime became less fun for all of us. I was focused on the quiet time I'd get after they were in bed instead of focusing on the time I had with them.
Now it shows. It shows in children who don't keep their rooms neat, don't obey happily the first time they're told, and are not reminded every day that their mother loves God and wants them to love Him, too. I make the effort to try to hug each one and tell them I love them every day, but it isn't enough.
God, help me to be a good mom. A mom who can realize when she's being selfish and give it UP! A mom who instead will be filled with the Holy Spirit and the urgency of training her children for eternity. A mom who shows her children that obedience really is the best way.
Tonight my 3yo begged me to go to bed with her. For a moment I was reluctant, and then I remembered that she is only a child for a moment, and how I treat her now will impress her forever. So I laid down with her, and cuddled with her. And i offered to tell her a story.
Because used to be is not something I want my God to say of me.