Thursday, April 25, 2013

Inheritance

We have imperfect children. Our children, have very imperfect parents. And aside from our vertically challenged genes, our kiddos have inherited (or learned) a few other things from us as well.
 
The eye roll. The shoulder shrug. The growl. Each one is signature Kit. But you know what? They are signature me as well. Uh-oh.

It's not just her either. Zak's sigh. The way he snaps suddenly. And the way both he and Grace set their jaw in the "I'm listening, but I'm not going to like it" mode. Grace's hands on her hips. Yeah, regrettably, all me to a T.
 
Not that they don't also take after their dad. It's just that my flaws tend to be a little bit more...um...
 
Loud.

If I'm lightning, then Victor must be coals. Steady, but still capable of shaping steel. Our kids have a little (and sometimes a lot) of both of us in them.

It's true, our munchkins are strong willed, stubborn, persistent, and crafty little boogers. But those qualities are not inherently negative.

These can be the recipe for very successful adults when tempered with strong faith, kindness, empathy, and self control. And that is certainly our hope and aim. Galatians 5:22,23

So, not everything they mimic is negative. They are funny, and clever, and like Salt and Vinager chips! (That one is definately from me!)
 
They are wonderfully affectionate. Even Zak, ten and a half, and up to my chin, doesn't think twice about holding my hand and leaning on my shoulder as we peruse the isles of the grocery store, or kissing his daddy good night. I definitely attribute this to his father's unabashed affection he pours out on his cherished ones.
 
No matter how much noise, chaos, or craziness, there is always one underlying current.
 
Love.
 
We mess up. We forget things. We yell at each other. We lose our cool. But then we apologize. We hug. We pray. And then we all pile onto the recliner and we read together. (Well, as close as we can get since we don't all fit :)
 
They fight. Over getting their own way. And about life's great unfairness. Or over whose turn it is to sit next to whom for movies or meal times. But they always make up. Forgive.
 
And they pray. Little voices revealing great big hearts. There is no more humbling experience than to hear those genuine praises and petitions, except seeing them answered.
 
They laugh. A lot. We all do. One of the biggest lessons we are all still learning is how to laugh at ourselves.
 
And how to cry. Both of the big kids are tender hearted, and each one has certain movies or stories they either won't watch or read because it's "too sad", or watch and read a lot because it is so triumphant!

Zak couldn't sleep the other night because he was upset that "someday Koda (our dog) is going to die". I cherish that innocence.
 
Yes, my children overwhelm me. What a gift, to still be privy to their hearts.
 
We have been granted the incomparable privilege of being entrusted with the care of some of the best people I have ever met. All of the credit for these remarkable creatures truly goes to He who gifted us, loaned us, this precious "inheritance", Jehovah God. Psalms 127:3
 
They are truly precious. And I am in awe of them nearly every day. 

2 comments:

  1. That was really a beautiful description of the simple joys and challenges we face as parents. I loved the part about your children's prayers getting answered!

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  2. Oh dear, I'm a-weepin' again...and have been up all night reading. What a combo. :')

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