Today was exhausting.  I have no doubt that yours was probably exhausting too, but let me just say that mine was the sort of exhaustion that comes from having been in a physical and emotional FIGHT!  Yes, the dramatic high-point (or shall I say low-point) today was trying to get my youngest down for a nap.  

As the third born boy, he doesn't takes naps as often as most three year old first-borns.  Today he desperately needed a nap, however,  Unfortunately he was so spent that he couldn't calm down.  He was so furious with me for asking him to nap that he got violent.  I'm talking frothing at the mouth and spitting at me, violent!  A swinging fist even landed smack dab in my eye.  

By God's Grace I endured; intermittently disciplining him, holding him, and trying again.... and again... and again... eventually winning when he succumbed to sleep in my arms over an hour later.  I came out to discover two eager boys ready for rowdy play outside.  I had a migraine from the battle I'd just come out of (not unscathed) and needed a moment's peace.  They went into a duet of complaints, whining and carrying on about how "not fair" I was being... after all, they had waited so long.

I lost it here.  It didn't take long for me to realize I needed a reprieve before continuing this discussion and sent them each to their rooms and me to mine.  ding ding ding... "fighters, to your corners!"

The problem for me is that I'm not a fighter!  Never have been, never will be, at least not naturally.  But I have three sons who are, and so I must learn to be stronger than they are.    Stronger boundaries, stronger endurance, stronger faith and reliance on God's Promise to be my rock and supply all I need for life and Godliness...  Stronger, each day stronger.

After taking a dose of Tylenol I walked into my first-born's room.  I told him of my afternoon and the quiet time I needed to have before we would go outside to play.  I asked him if he could play quietly without complaining anymore.  He said yes.  I went to my second-born fighter's room and started in on the same soliloquy, only to be interrupted by his tearful cries over how I'd forgotten to remind him to play with his Legos and how terrible it all is that he won't have time to play legos and action figures and go outside and, and, and...  

I held him as he ranted and raved, knowing that the boys had all reached the end of their Summer and were ready for the rhythm of Fall.  As I fell asleep by my sticky, sweet, tear-stained middle child this afternoon, my favorite Mama-verse repeated in my head again.  "Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap, if we do not lose heart!"  I thought as I cuddled my strong second born, that the opposite of weary is renewed, and so I prayed simply that God would renew me.  He answered with love, rest, and inspiration.  When we all awoke I suggested we throw a pancake party for dinner and invite all of our favorite stuffed animals.  

As we sat together at the table this evening, with the late Summer sun streaming into the kitchen, our conversation was filled with laughter.  Remarkably the boys remained seated and there was not kicking under the table or cries of injustice over legos.  Another verse came to mind as I watched on amazed:  "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."  

I teach the boys from this verse regularly as they deal with one another.  "Yes, your brother just grabbed your toy, he did wrong... are you supposed to do wrong back or overcome his wrong with your right action?"  They know the answer, and so do I.  

Today, by God's Grace, yet again, I was able to overcome their childish evil (it's their job, after all) with my good (for that's my job.)