spare it not

Do you remember as a child being loved? The most vivid times in my childhood of knowing I was loved was those minutes before my mom/dad would walk into to spank me or my siblings. From really early on, I pitied my parents for having ME as a child. I was onery, rebellious and prideful. But, I knew that they loved me.

Once, in a moment of rare disobedience, my brother was going to get a spanking. Just my brother. This was unusual because, he usually only got into trouble because I told him to do something, or dragged him along on one of my crazy schemes. I can't even remember what it was he did...but he was in trouble and waiting for my mom in the bathroom. I was sitting at the dining room table and watching her face as she was washing dishes. She was breathing quickly and I could tell she was agitated with him.

Then, I saw it.

Her lip quivered and her eyes scrunched up for just a tiny split second. Her eyes went up to the ceiling and a slow breath was let out as her eyes got a red watery look to them.

It hit me, even though I was only 7 or 8 years old, that my mother did NOT want to spank my brother. I knew she loved him. She did. I even harbored secret thoughts that he was her favorite! I could see she was indecisive. I could see she was at war with her thoughts.

But, what did she do?

She grabbed her belt and marched off to the bathroom, where I listened in puzzlement to her hard tones, then her whacking, then my brother's howling. Then more talking.

My brother and her came out hand in hand. He was somber, but his eyes were bright as she and he talked about something in very cheerful tones.

It's things like that that remind me that it's so hard to be a loving, gentle woman to my children, but at the same time, show them that I love them, that God loves them and wants them to be good children.