Scratched on my heart

A soft answer turns away wrath, a harsh word stirs up anger. I scratch the words on the window above the sink wishing it were as easy to etch them onto my heart.

Displayed at eye level, where I stand elbow deep in pots and pans, I pray God’s words sink deep. Soul achingly deep. Engrave them on my soul, Lord.

Tender hearts need a soft answer, a patient answer, an answer that points them to God. I serve God, by serving them. I serve God, by handling his children with tenderness. I serve God, by setting aside self and making each moment teachable – to them and to me.

I scour the pot wanting to scour away my tendency toward frustration and selfishness. I don’t understand my actions. I fail to do what I want and instead do the very thing that I hate. I desire good, but do not have the ability to carry it out.

And tender hearts suffer.

Oh, how I need more of God and less of me. Oh, how I need deliverance from the sin that dwells within. Oh, how I need to humbly seek forgiveness.

Lord, I get low before you, admitting my need for you. Parenting is hard. HARD. When the patience wears thin, when the lessons are hard, when the tears fall—teach me to lean into You. Your strength never fails.