The sound of it makes me cringe, and then my heart sinks. And today was no exception. I was doing the dishes, deep in thought and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was hearing glass break.
I focused on the fact that my children had been playing with a ball. And as I turned in the direction of the sound, it occurred to me what I had heard. I tried to pretend that it wasn't what I thought it was, but deep down, I knew.
As soon as I had turned and my eyes focused on the reality before me, my voice got that high pitched sound as I stammered, "YOU BROKE IT, MY CANDLES, THEY'RE BROKEN???!!!" It was worse than I had hoped. :(
But the look on my 9 year old son's face brought me back to reality.
I remembered an incident from when he was a toddler. I was very pregnant and cranky. One day while I was holding him, I let him get too close to some Christmas decorations, and he picked up one of my bells and broke it. It was a bell that my husband and I had received as a gift, commemorating our first Christmas as a married couple. I remember bawling like a baby over that bell as my 2 year old son stood there watching me. I am quite sure he thought I had lost my mind. I was pretty sure I had lost it too. I'm not sure I ever really found it again, but that is a whole other blog post.
So there I was, crying over a bell as my son watched, not sure what to do. In the middle of it all, I realized that I was crying over a bell. And it began to seem very silly. I thought about how that bell didn't make my marriage special, and it didn't make Christmas special. It was just a bell.
As I cleaned up the mess, God reminded me that my son was far more important than any possessions I may own.
So today, as I stood there looking at my pretty broken candle holders, I was reminded of that fact. I will admit that throwing a pity party for myself and crying like a baby did cross my mind. Although, I don't think the party would have been well attended. And even though my children had broken house rules by throwing a ball in the house, the candle holders are just stuff. They can be replaced.
What I couldn't get back was that teaching moment. The chance to show my children that they are more important than stuff. SO, I sent them to their rooms so I could calm down. And I used the time to think. I thought a lot about how I have been working so hard at teaching them that people are the most important thing. I am constantly helping them work through struggles over a game and toys and any number of other things. We talk about how nothing is more important than the feelings of others.
In this house, we don't fight over games, we don't use harsh words over the computer, TV or toys. Okay. . .reality check. . .it happens, and then we talk about how Jesus would want us to behave. We talk about using a soft answer instead of grievous words.
Sometimes even mommy needs a reminder. (hangs head in shame. . .)
I was excited to set my first Thanksgiving table for guests. I have never hosted before and it meant a lot to me to be able to do it. My candle holders were part of the decor. They helped make things intimate and festive.
May they rest in peace.
At some point I need to deal with it and clean the mess up. I just haven't been able to do it yet, because it makes me sad. Don't worry, the mess is behind my sofa and a table. The children know not to go back there.
Too bad the ball didn't get that memo.
I know that next year it won't matter that I found the only set of them left at Bed Bath and Beyond. It won't matter that the manager sold me the display set and I brought them home without a box. Next year there will be something else for me to desire. Somewhere I will find the perfect candle holders for the table behind my sofa. And I will remember today and smile.
Okay. . .maybe I won't smile. But at least I won't regret how I handled it.
My children remind me of my relationship with my Heavenly Father. I tell them over and over not to play with balls in the house. Sometimes they listen, many times they forget. But no matter what, I love them anyway.
I am so thankful that God loves me no matter how many times I mess up. He is gentle when helping me clean up life's messes. He loves me when I am unlovable. He loves me unconditionally.
Sometimes, broken glass is a good thing.