It wasn't too long ago that my son went through a stage were he "hated" me. It seemed as though everything I did that upset him (of course) set off a set of emotions causing him to make sure he knew that he did not approve of what I was doing and that he "hated" me. As an individual, I can live with someone not liking me. As a mom, I have to say it hurt. I didn't even know my son knew what that meant, much less how to use it properly. We NEVER talked like that to or about anyone. I understand he's young and he doesn't know how to express his feelings, but as a parent that is raising her children to follow and know the Lord, it's not something I can tolerate and excuse. I knew his actions couldn't go unpunished, I just really didn't know what to do or how to handle it.
The first time it happened, my initial shock was anger and hurt. I honestly didn't know what I had done to someone that I loved so much to cause him to use those words towards me and at me. I can say now, that I don't remember my initial reaction, but I do know that we talked to him about what the word meant and how inappropriate it was to say it not only to me, his mother, but to anyone, in any circumstance. We explained to him that God loves others and those that have God, have love towards others. It didn't seem to work. I tried to ignore it, but it seemed as though he screamed louder instead of becoming silent when I didn't acknowledge it. For the next couple of weeks, the words of anger continued and the punishment became worse. It seemed as though the discipline wasn't working at all. The hurt I felt started to lessened only a little as his words of anger increased. We tried spanking, we tried scripture, we tried time-outs. Nothing seemed to work.
Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take the heartache anymore, I was reminded of something from my past and it hit me hard. When I was a teen, I once told my mother that I thought she was acting like a *particular explicit*. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I KNEW without a doubt that I had said something extremely hurtful and I knew I didn't mean it. Much to my surprise, even to this day, my mom amazed me with her simple act of silence. She said NOTHING! I didn't know what to do! How could she not be hurt, angry, or disappointed? I now know she was all of the above and that by remaining silent, she punished me even more. I couldn't stop apologizing because I knew I had hurt her. I knew I didn't mean it. I knew I loved her. How could I have possibly said something so hateful to someone that I loved, cared for, and cherished so much? I remember it almost like it was yesterday. I remember her reaction. I remember where we were when I said it. I don't remember why I said it, but I can almost remember what I was wearing. As I type this, all of the overwhelming feelings and emotions I felt that day rush back and it still makes me sick to my stomach to think I mistreated her in that way.
I NEVER would have even thought about talking to my dad that way and I didn't see him much because he worked out of town a lot. So, why in the world would I even consider, much less act upon the thoughts I had at the moment to hurt the one person that I knew loved me the most? The Bible is very clear about honoring your father and mother. For God said, 'Honor your father and mother' and 'Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.' Matthew 15:4. Although I did not die a physical death that day, a part of me did die emotionally. I know my mother forgave me. I finally forgave myself. My mom, in acting against every nerve in her body, did just as the Lord directed her to do and it impacted me in a way I will never forget and showed me a way in which I too should raise my children. 'But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also....' Luke 6:27-29.
K no longer tells me he hates me, but showers me with "I love yous" throughout the day. Today, in gymnastics, he stopped what he was doing a couple of times to sign "I Love You".
By remembering that one simple act of silence that my mother acted upon so many years ago, and putting it into action, not only as she did, but as the Lord instructs us to do, I was able to finally show my son how I should have been responding the entire time and it's made all the difference in the world. Now when he gets angry, he knows there's another way.
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