“I love you. You are my child,” I insisted.
“But why? I am a pain,” my child asserted.
“You are young and it is my job to train you so you will love God and be a wise adult,” I replied. “Sometimes you say and do things that hurt my feelings. Sometimes I get irritated when you do not obey or you act disrespectful. But I love you and I learn from you.”
“How do you learn from me?” a doubtful tone edged these words.
“You are a mirror to who I am. . .” I began slowly. “You know when I ask you why did you do that? And you often say I don't know why?”
“Yes,” a meeker voice answered.
“Through you I am learning why I do the things I do,” my heart squeezed tight. “God uses you to make me more like Jesus. I also see your heart of compassion and desire for justice. Your heart challenges me to seek mercy and justice. . .”
This mothering thing is a bleeding and pouring out. It breaks me and brings me to the end of myself. Daily my children remind me I cannot do life without God's help. As I pour myself out to train them up in the way they should go I find there is more room for God. In my emptiness if I look to God He will fill me.
Those days when my nerves feel raw and I have nothing left to give, God is waiting for me to come to Him. I must come to Him empty so He can fill me.
And He never fails to fill me.
What do you do when you are dry and empty?