I stand at the sink and peel potatoes
I feel the hard grit and sand under my nails and the hot water washing over my hands. I peel and watch the skin skein back and the white flesh of the bulb appear. I peel and I hear my son from his back bedroom. He is a tornado of frustration and he screams for me after waking up from his nap, all hot and sweaty and angry.
But I know what will happen when I go to him. He will just throw a bear and climb under a blanket after slamming a door. I know because we’ve been doing this same dance for long minutes now.
So I stand and peel potatoes.
I listen to him wail and my heart rises up in its own cry of frustration and I’m so tired and I want to peel off all of last night’s grime and bad dreams and sleeplessness and stand for hours in the shower.
He cries and I listen and leave the water running and walk down the hallway to him. Again. And again it only makes him cry harder.
So I walk back to my kitchen. He lies in his bedroom. And I wonder at how desperate we all are to be held tightly while at the same time demanding we want to be left alone. But the loneliness just makes us cry all the harder. We want to yell and kick and scream and still have someone waiting on the other side of the door to love us.
The sink is full of potato skins. My hands are wrinkled from the water. I turn it off.
I wait. I tell him I am waiting. And then I go and sit on my bed and wrap the comparative quiet around my salty heart.
I do not understand what I do.
For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.
Romans 7:15.
He comes then; I hear his feet padding down the hallway.
He comes and melts a storm of tears into my lap, his three-year-old chest heaving with remorse and deep, drawn breaths. I slowly stroke his back, feeling him shudder under my hand as he tells me of the bad lion that leapt out of his heart. And I pat the angry beast, invite him into my own heart, hold his hot head.
This is what mothers do, I tell him. We tame lions.
What a tender, honest moment between you and your boy! We have similar scenes play over and over here in our house; sometimes it is all I can do to hug instead of scream, hold instead of hide. Grace… always reaching for it.
Oh yes we do, girl. Yes we do.
Beautiful reflection of Jesus you are to your boy…out-waiting his angry fit with your grace. Sometimes we just gotta hug the beast right out of them.
Oh, how I love this post.
Lisa-Jo, the stories you tell give me the courage to face the idea of being a mother some day. I’m so grateful for you.
This is a precious and beautiful story.
we tame lions, soothe savage beasts and love!
Chris
Awesome post. My own daughter in law has a three year old and a new baby… this so sounds like the dance that they do. Her exhaustion and fatigue from a new baby (he is 6 months old and very demanding) then home schooling the six year old and the 3 year old who feels a bit ‘left out’ but also very loved. Your writing is so beautiful. I loved it.
I love your honest soul-bearing mama moments all written out for me to see and live all over again. And I do. Live them over again. And even now that somehow, somewhere along the way we survived over a decade of diapers and lack of sleep; even now that my baby is 10 and my oldest 16; even now I still have many potato peeling moments. Maybe more so with almost 3 teenagers. The “I want you now-I don’t want you now” push and pull. I need grace. Grace for me. Cuz if I don’t have it full up, I certainly don’t have any to give. Thank you for reminding me and giving me perspective.
Oh, and those words “he tells me of the bad lion that leapt out of his heart” just melt my heart.
How in the world do you do this??? This is just INCREDIBLY beautiful writing. Exactly describing that hard/sad/wonderful place of mothering a small one whose personality is sometimes bigger than they are. Thank you so much.
Good golly. We tame lions.
Amen.
Yes, we do! Us mothers, we do tame lions.
Thank you for your honesty and willingness to be so beautifully transparent. I have these very same moments frequently with my own small Lion. It is comforting to know I am not alone in this wild, but lovely ride of motherhood. I appreciate you!
Very moving. I know I don’t always handle those moments with my own 3-year-old with the same patience and grace. But, knowing that it is something others are going through helps, a lot. Thank You
Kara
What a reminder to be patient with our kids. Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful. I am right there with you. I love this. We Do tame lions and wrestle little beasts and pour out the hard love all day long. Loved this so.
Bless you!
love this….so true how we want to throw our little fits and STILL have someone waiting to love us…so thankful for God to do that for us too because I know I give my own little crying and upset moments. =)
what a lovely word picture of the daily life of a loving mommy.
And isn’t it glorious when the savage beast becomes a pussycat that just wants to be loved? Motherhood is all about holding our heart out there, vulnerable, a target some days, so intent on Loving that it costs us everything. Over and over again. And still, He gives us the Grace to do it tomorrow.
As I read I remembered a small, angry toeheaded tike who to this day grasps my heart in his sweaty littleboy fists and squeezes until the mommy tears flow…never permitted to hold or caress…
We tame lions…I wish he could have described it then…I wish he could describe it now, as he continues to squeeze the tears from this ravaged mommy’s heart in his now firm man fists…
This mommy soothes the savage beast of a wounded boy in a man with words and prayers…when she is permitted.
Thank you…you give me another breath to love, unconditionally, my boy…my angry lion.
I have felt that way too. Interesting how we can desire to know that someone is there for us, but we want to be left alone at the same time. I guess we all have a bit of three year old in us. I understand how he felt, and you as well.
Beautiful.
And, by the way, it’s ok that you returned the video to the “wrong” library branch. If it is still part of Ffx Cty system, you can do that. Is baby girl sleeping better??????
My dear, you are completely and utterly lovely! Your honesty and transparency are refreshing. ;)
I wrote about this today – something very similar in myself. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to scream and shout. Yet, I also want attention. I want love. I want to be held. I so get you!
I’m so glad you hit publish.
I just read this as I am listening to my little one wail…waking up from a nap. And before I even read this post…I thought to myself….I might as well read this because he needs a moment to calm down. Now I am up and off to tame a lion with a nugget in my heart.
What a beautiful story. Sounds all too familiar. May grace abound to you.
Good gracious, your writing is amazing. I’m adding “tamer of lions” to my many titles as mom now. I need to keep going to God when the lions in my heart leap out, too.
Thank you, thank you for this post.
Absolutely positively the most beautiful post I’ve read today. How on earth do you create such masterpieces with a three week old baby? I couldn’t even function…:)
I have a six year old, a just turned four year old and a two year old. I so understand this dance. All too well.
And yet while we are taming these lions, I love knowing that God is gently leading us at the same time. (Isaiah 40:11) This mom (me) needs abundant grace.
Amen. You have beautiful words, Lisa-Jo. Thanks for using them to speak life into this tired heart. Between morning sickness and a sick 2-yo, I’m just worn through, but I know I’m not alone.