"Kids are DYING, and people are too afraid to be honest even in obituaries...Please use my son’s story. Please help me warn parents this is out there. Please, please, please. It’s all I can do now."
I stared at her and she held out her arms for me. Me. The scary monster. She wanted me. The same person who frightened her, she was seeking comfort from.
I recently found myself feeling offense. Red, hot anger, that I felt was justified, righteous, even. But what I couldn’t understand was, if it was righteous and justified by God, then why did I feel so bad?
When I seek to punish or control my kids with harsh words just because they aren’t behaving exactly the way I want, I need to call my response what it is. It’s not a bad day. It’s not a mom fail. It’s not a joke. It’s sin.
