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Thursday, March 10, 2011

The Sandpaper Is Getting Smoother

Once upon a time, there were two boys.

Brothers.

And there was a mother, who listened to them fight and argue and push each other's buttons and compete over every little, tiny, minuscule, unimportant thing.  And she thought, "What am I doing wrong?"

So she talked to her sons about loving each other, and she sent them to separate rooms, and she put them in the same room so they could talk to each other and work things out, and she read Siblings Without Rivalry, and she talked to every mom she could about how other families handle sibling conflicts, and she asked advice from the boys' daddy, and she prayed for wisdom from their other Daddy.  

And the boys grew, and gradually they learned how to cooperate more than compete, and peace slowly began to descend upon the household.

And the mother breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a hundred thank-yous.

The names of the boys:  Josiah and David.

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Once upon a time, there were two boys.

Brothers.

And there was a mother, who listened to them fight and argue and push each other's buttons and compete over every little, tiny, minuscule, unimportant thing.  And she thought, "What am I doing wrong?"

But then she thought, "We've been through this before.  These boys will grow up.  They will learn how to get along.  I'll keep trying to train their hearts, and I'll keep asking advice, and I'll keep praying for wisdom.  And the lessons they're learning now will help them someday as they deal with sometimes-difficult friends, roommates, coworkers, wives, etc.  We'll get through this."

But sometimes she wondered, "Will we?"  And sometimes she prayed, "How long, O Lord?"  And sometimes she called them The Sandpaper Boys.  And sometimes she wished that, with a snap of her fingers, she could make them grow up right then and there and MAKE THEM STOP FIGHTING.

But little by little, she saw her sons mature, and she watched them respond to each other with more humility and gentleness, and she caught them doing things like snuggling on the couch together, the older reading a story to the younger.  

And the mother breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a hundred thank-yous.

The names of the boys:  David and Tobin.

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Added on 3/11/11:  If you read this post yesterday, you might remember what I wrote here about prayer being needed for a certain situation.  For reasons I don't yet fully understand, I've been asked to remove that information, and I'm also going to hide the comments related to that.  If you have further questions, you may email me privately.  And if you've been praying, please continue.  Thank you, friends!