Ties That Bind

If this whole homeschooling mom thing doesn’t pan out, I think I’ll take up hostage negotiation. Or maybe I’ll use this on-the-job training to join the Special Forces or Navy Seals.

Anything has got to be easier than raising girls.

When Maven and the Lone Ranger were younger they used to really take it to the mat. At one point, I considered just throwing mud on them and charging admission. Just imagine: “In this corner, we have Maven—armed with Mommy’s temper and Daddy’s muscle tone—and in the other, the Lone Ranger—ready with Daddy’s height advantage and Mommy’s righteous indignation.”

Over time their fighting has become less frequent, but their “passion” has intensified. Case in point: today, the Lone Ranger decided to sing The Lord’s Prayer in her highest, most enthusiastic voice. Of course, all my Vice Parents had to step up to correct and comment before we even sang “Amen.” Is it only at our house that people fight over prayer?

And over who sits beside Mommy…

Who takes a bath with M&M…

Who drank the most juice…

Who reached the swings first…

Who picks the family movie…

Who gets her hair washed first, second, or last…

Who gets the orange composition book…

Who read the Proverbs chapter yesterday…

Who sits in the second row on the way to the store and who moves to the third row on the way back…

And on and on and on.

But today, Hubby reached his limit. So, he created his version of the three-legged race, with a twist: a game that forced Maven and the Lone Ranger to work together as a unit, using only three hands instead of four. Did we both secretly envision them singing “Kum Ba Yah” within the hour, throwing off their binds, and running off hand-in-hand to take turns pushing each other on the swing? Probably. At that point, I think our record stood at Parents: 5, Little People: 1,489,723, so hope springs eternal.

What we got instead was the Lone Ranger dragging her prone, screaming sister across the kitchen floor; Maven, exhausted, crying herself to sleep in the armchair, still bound to the Lone Ranger; a groggy Maven stomping upstairs behind a bored, whiny, not-so-Lone Ranger to wage war on another battlefield. After more weeping and gnashing of teeth Hubby dried my tears, had mercy on us all, and waved a slightly tattered white flag.

Latest tally: Parents: 7, Little People: 1,489,723.

Yes, it was a win in our column. Though they fought before, during, and after we set them free, there’s no shame in our game; only glory. God’s glory.

Despite all their tears and frustration I know they’ll see the fruits of our labor—and I say “our” because at this age they want their own way without a vision of their future relationships. Maven doesn’t care if her children never have sleepovers with their cousins because she wants the syrup right…now…no matter if Brown Sugar is pouring it over her own waffles. Songbird isn’t worried about being maid of honor in her sister’s wedding in 20 years when all she can think about is her missing polish and the Lone Ranger’s rosy nails.

It’s not easy for Hubby and me to keep our eyes on the family flag when we’re down in the trenches ducking the bombs a-burstin’ in mid-air; even we have a need for instant gratification, to “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (Psalm 27:13) This time, I think we got both; while focusing on the eternal we got to enjoy the temporal. How? Well, this “game” pointed out a few things:

“Iron sharpens iron…” Proverbs 27:17

We need each other. “Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:4) Even today when they can’t stand each other, they had to work together just to sit down. God knew their needs and fulfilled them by giving them each other. Yes, they blend together like oil and water at times, but mostly they’re like fish and cheese grits—an uncommon, yet delicious combination.

There’s beauty in longsuffering. “But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:4) Physically, they had to be patient, even if they had to grind their teeth while doing it. We pray that suffering through these experiences today will grow them closer in the long term, as well as develop their spiritual, emotional, and mental muscles (no, not physical!) as they work through and accept their differences.

They are their first friends. “For whoever does the will of God is My brother and My sister and mother.” (Mark 3:35) I might not be their BFF (remember what I said in Who Loves You, Baby?), but God provided them a whole bunch of besties right under their own roof. They share clothes, toys, interests, and even other friends. Most important, they are connected by their faith in Jesus Christ. What a blessing! So, even if they treat each other like poop at times, reconciliation is just around the corner—and that’s comforting, because so is the next fight.

Blessed is the peacemaker. “Blessed are the peacemakers, For they shall be called sons of God.” (Matthew 5:9) The Lone Ranger exhibited grace under pressure as Maven stewed and slept beside her. She saw that it made her life easier to sit quietly, even for only 30 minutes. We hope they both realize the future blessings and wisdom in sacrifice, meekness, and simply keeping their mouths shut!

Daddy sees the whole parade. “He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments…” (Psalm 78:5-7) Our Abba Father blessed our family with a creative, loving dad who works to stay one step ahead of them (or hot on their heels). The loving discipline Hubby institutes strengthens today’s ties that will bind them together in the days and years to come. So for now, we’ll just enjoy what our little people have in common, stuff like:

Playing Minecraft…

Spending Friday nights sleeping together in a twin bed…

Love of Cold Stone, pizza, and any drink that’s not milk…

Hatred of broccoli…

Pulling weeds for extra money…

Swings, the jump rope, and bicycles…

The Crusader, Think Tank, M&M, Hubby, me…

And God, our Ultimate Hostage Negotiator, Who paid the blood ransom for my crew.