Sometimes you just gotta tell your kids about themselves…

Hello again Beloveds,

It has indeed been a minute. With school, a baby, a business, and just life in general I haven’t sat down to write like I wanted. But when there’s something you’re meant to do, God will make sure you do it. LOL!

on the East coast the snow has barricaded us indoors for the better part of the last couple weeks, so needless to say not only have I been on Mommy-mode like nobody’s business (which this blog is all about), but I’ve managed to accomplish a few things, so now I can write about those mom-me-adventures.

I’m not complaining; not by any stretch of the imagination.  In fact, quite the opposite is true: These past two weeks indoors with my little one have shown me just how much of I had been taking our time together I’d taken for granted.

We’d started homeschooling just before the snow, due to a decline in health and regression in behavior. Chronic infections of the ear, nose and throat made what used to be one of our most peaceful times, a hassle (that I started dreading by 4 p.m.).

About a week ago, it got really bad – with him screaming, kicking and crying for hours (which had me alongside him on the verge of the same). Prayer was the only thing I could think of to keep me sane.  I’m a firm believer that children pick up on the energy of their parents, and I know when I pray I am calm, cool and collected. Since that’s exactly what I needed him to be, I prayed….HARD.

I was mostly praying that my son would stop being a crybaby. My son has always had an incredible vocabulary and impeccable communication skills. He can articulate his feelings (sometimes to my dismay) better than some adults I know. But in the last few months he’s whined, whimpered, pouted and even thrown himself on the ground kicking and screaming when something is bothering him. (That last one only happened twice, he learned VERY quickly we don’t do that here).

So I prayed, I asked God in every conceivable way to help my child not be a crybaby. And then I thought of Samuel and Hannah. Samuel was a great prophet in Israel; he ordained Saul king and anointed David after him. Saul was raised in the temple by the high priest, Eli. His mother, Hannah, sent him to live there after she’d weaned him as a way to keep her promise to Go if He would allow her to conceive. Not only did Hannah conceive Samuel, but she had six more children after him. But still she loved Samuel and poured into his life until the day she died.

Every year, when Hannah went to the temple to worship, she brought Samuel a new epah – the robe of a High Priest. There is no indication that Hannah knew of her son’s future as a prophet and judge. Nothing suggests that he was going to be led to any highly acclaimed position within the temple. Yet, every year, from the time his mother sent him to the temple as a TODDLER, she brought him a robe fit for a high priest.

I believe Hannah told her son what he could be. I believe she didn’t know if he would be a high priest or not, but it’s likely that when others saw him walking around the temple with his robe on, they began to envision in their minds a future for Samuel that included him as high priest. Interestingly enough, when Samuel was called by God as a teenager to surpass the position of high priest, Eli – the high priest – was happy to guide Samuel on his journey.

Hannah may not have lived at the temple with her son, but she certainly sowed into him – even in her absence. I opened my eyes and looked at my son, who was still all tears. I stopped praying. I made him look me in the eyes and I took a page from Hannah’s book. “You can do this,” I told him. “You are a smart, strong and brave little boy.” I never uttered the words cry-baby aloud. I never said a lot of what I was thinking. I spoke life to my son.
And you know what? He was asleep within minutes.

I (re)learned an important lesson that night: speak life.

It sounds simple enough, but it isn’t always easy for parent. I know my son is young, and it supposedly gets harder as they grow up (I say supposedly because I’m speaking life to that now already, too) but speak life. Always speak life. Never mind what friends say or what they’re fighting. Never mind what has come against them. Still speak life. Tell them what they can do and who they really are, so they can see what they’re meant to be.

Speak life. Speak life. Speak life.

I’d love to hear from you. Where are you on your legacy journey?  Already seasoned? Just starting out? Are you leading a tiny dynasty or building your base solo for now? Let me know. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *