"Oh hi. No, I haven't heard anything."
"Oh! No, I didn't know that at all."
"That is unacceptable and quite disappointing."
Not the phone call I was wanting. After dealing with this, I was hoping better choices would be made.
Dinner had just wrapped up; spaghetti to be exact. When I hung up, the Walnut was surprisingly missing. When he walked in, me with evidence in hand, the eyes went down. He knew I knew. He knew he had been caught. I don't know if he thought it was wrong until that moment, until he saw my face.
Anger. Disappointment. Feelings of worry. Brokenness as a mother.
Have I missed something? Am I not engaged enough? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere along this path called parenting?
The young little Mockingbird. Probably the same one we tried to save 2 days before. We put it in a bucket to keep it safe from ants and cats, hoping Momma Bird would come back for it. She did and what a wonderful site it was. Hop. Hop. Hop. Wings spread. Flying lessons that day; for one day, it was supposed to fly.
But today, it had perched on the side of the bucket full of water, a bucket that catches water from a dripping pipe. Balance lost. Life lost. The little bird didn't stand a chance to get out. It drowned in that bucket of water, water it was hoping would bring nourishment.
"Really. Do you know where the bird is?"
"Did he say anything else?"
"Right. No, he won't be playing anymore this week either."
"Thank you so much for calling. I will speak with him right away."
"I will. I'll call if I learn anything else."
The little bird. They found it, carried it to the front yard, and then smashed it-just because. Just to see what was inside.
Thoughts swirled inside my head. What does this mean? I think about young men that kill-so often, it started with animals. Was smashing a dead bird just one small step towards that? Maybe that is drastic to think, but the reality of what he had done was heavy on my heart. The Other Nut too. We just stood there.
Clean up soon happened. Proper burial. Spankings. Conversations. Discipline.
Tears fell on the Walnut's face. He was sad for what he had done, but also sad, because he thought I didn't love him anymore. How do you explain to an 8 year old that you discipline, that you let him feel the pain of his actions, because you do love him?
"Son, I do love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't care what you did. I would let you do things that are wrong and just turn away. I wouldn't want to teach you to love God, people, and animals. I wouldn't want to teach you anything. And so I discipline, I train you, I hopefully show you how to be like Jesus."
Long shower for the Walnut. I'm sure he was pretty dirty from his misadventure.
Jesus walks in, evidence in hand, eyes go down. We've been caught. And so Jesus too washes us; for we too are dirty from our misadventures.
"Mommy, I talked with daddy, and I'm glad that you and daddy discipline me."
If he only knew how it hurts this heart of mine to discipline, to have him feel the pain of his actions.
One day, he will. Lord willing, as he watches his own children grow and stumble, he'll know.
Hop. Hop. Hop. Wings spread. Momma teaching her little boy how to fly in this world. Flying lessons; for one day, he will be gone from the nest.
Today, little boy perched on the side of a bucket full of a world ravaged by sin. Balance lost. But life is not lost. The little boy stands a chance. He won't drown in this bucket. Jesus pulled him out and set his feet upon the Rock.
Hop. Hop. Hop. Wings spread. Little boy is learning how to fly.