Have you ever received a “back massage” given with hands too small to palm a softball? I have. They don’t last long and relaxation is rarely the end result. Well, physically. Usually those very same little hands spend more time pinching than massaging, but well, when one is at the receiving end of compassion and pure service it is difficult to do anything but melt.
I realized today we are training husbands as I allow the boys opportunities to see me at not quite my best and my husband shows them how to respond kindly and gently. Even on bad days. Even when coping skills are as rare as a 3 headed goat. Even when there are no rational words or logical explanations. And I am learning to receive.
I told them today I look forward to seeing what kind of men they will become. I asked them what kind of men they would like to be. They giggled. Rolled their eyes and shuffled their feet. They are 7 and 9… As the chimenia poured sparks out the top they valiantly and purposefully rushed to defend me from the Heinous Ember. Without a conscious thought for their own safety. Very manly. Even if they can’t see it.
I was content. I can see what kind of men they are becoming. Silly, affectionate, compassionate, independent, intelligent men. Now, if I could get a grip on discipline perhaps we could all grow up to be that too!