My kids fight. They argue and whine and plan ways to instigate fights with each other. It's that intentional sometimes, it really is. I can see it brewing in their eyes and I can read it on their faces and sometimes I nip it in the bud, but other times I wait. I wait and hope that I'm wrong. That I've "lost my touch" and really everything is as it should be.
But I'm never wrong. About those things at least.
One of the many blessings/curses of motherhood, if we allow ourselves to trust our intuition, is that we know when our children are about to make bad choices. And then, knowing full well that things are going to end poorly, we have to let them do it anyway. Because while it is certainly our job to teach and guide them, to praise and to reprimand, to know when to let them hold back and to know when to push them forward, it is definitely not our job to make all their decisions for them.
Oh yes, it would be easier that way. So very much easier. But would it be better? I think not. The lessons they learn through personal struggles, the ones that aren't detrimental to their health and well-being, the kinds we know they're about to have but we allow anyway, are ones that help them grow into the types of adults that can make this world great.
Sometimes it seems like it's all struggle. That it's all bickering and finger pointing, negotiating and disagreements, until you start to ask yourself if you shouldn't just separate them forever and never let them speak to each other again.
And then something lovely like this happens, and you know God is showing you the fruits of your labor....
So today, I am thankful.