The Fruit of my Labour

Today has been an uplifting and oddly sobering day...

I have spent the afternoon dwelling on how deeply thankful I am that I am disciplining my children the way I am.

I know I don't always do it the right way, and I may not always say the right thing....but when you see the fruit in your children's lives: the life, the hope, the affirmation they get from knowing that you are disciplining them out of love...then it is well worth it. I am so thankful that healthy, involved, hands on parenting was modeled to me and that I started shaping and molding them early...because again, the benefits are just so worth it. All the days of consistency, the perseverance in repeating the same thing over and over, the patience, the tears....IT ALL PAYS OFF...eventually. And today, I saw a glimmer of that. A bright shining shimmering ray of hope.

And that glimmer makes me want to help other women who seem to be in the darkness, who admit to me with tears and gut wrenching sobs that they don't know how to do this. As mothers, we all need tools. We need to share with one another and carry one another. How is it that in mothering, we can too often be locked into our own silent cells?

And this evening...an old pupil of mine from my teaching days in Zimbabwe came to have dinner with us. Again, fruit of my labour - two years of inspiring this student whilst teaching her about geography has led her to be doing the most amazing work with the WWF (and no, not the wrestling acronym!) now. She has au paired in America, and pays me compliments on my children (what every mother loves to hear). But as I chat with her my heart is heavy...to hear how much I played a role in her life and yet how distanced and hurt she is from  her parents. My heart is heavy with prayers of hope, and of healing.

And again I am struck. This mantle of parenting is no easy task. But it is, beyond a shadow of doubt, the most important one...