This afternoon, the girls and I retrieved a large package from the post office. When we returned to the house, we eagerly opened the box to discover mounds of new clothes, socks, and a beautiful handmade quilt. Erik and I are immensely blessed by all of our parents. They are God-loving, wise, and gracious. And they love to lavish good gifts on their grandchildren. I was flabbergasted and thankful for the new winter clothes for Elisa and Sadie (Elisa is rapidly moving beyond 2T size.) And the intricate, pink quilt represents many loving hours of patient stitching and (if I know my perfectionist mother-in-law) seam ripping. A labor of tender love for her one year-old grandbaby. We receive these beautiful gifts with deeply thankful hearts and an awareness of how blessed we are - materially and relationally - by our amazing parents.
Tonight, Elisa struggled with the gratefulness part. Erik and I want with all of our hearts to instill in our sweet daughters a sense of abiding contentment, and a constant gratitude for each gift handed to them from the Father of lights. We want them to live in humble thankfulness - not to feel that they are in any way entitled to any of it, but that all this abundant goodness is a gift from the One who made them. We want them to give generously to others, to understand that wants are not needs, that others live in situations far different than their own middle-class American luxury.
Elisa hurriedly tried on a pair of oh-so-soft brown jammies. For a few minutes she enjoyed them, and we talked about how she would sleep so well in her new, well-fitting, warm pajamas. Then we sat down to eat our dinner, and she snapped. She began to throw one of the worst fits I have seen to date (and we have seen some whoppers from our headstrong toddler!). She screamed that she did not like the brown ones, they were yucky. She wanted to change into some of her other new clothes. She wailed and ranted, and I held her tightly on my lap for nearly 30 minutes as she kicked and fought me. She never ate dinner, and we headed up stairs - still in the brown jammies - for bed.
My little girl's temper tantrum broke my heart tonight. I know she is two, and she is learning. She gets excited, and self-control is a battle she often loses during those moments. If she had graciously said, "Mom, when dinner is over, could I try on some of my other new clothes?" I would have said, "Sure, honey. Finish your rice, and we'll see how the blue ones fit." But, sadly, that wasn't how it went tonight.
How do you teach your children gratefulness when they live in a land of abundance? How do you teach them others-focus when the world is self-absorbed? (And so are we, if we are honest, a great deal of the time!)
My mail today also included a plea from Compassion for donations to their Unsponsored Childrens' Fund. The stories and faces of those precious little ones make me weep. We support a girl named Eri in Peru, and I cannot wait until Elisa is old enough to correspond with our "sponsored child" and learn about Eri's way of life, learn to love her and pray for her. Tomorrow for our preschool time, I am planning to show Elisa those pictures and read about each of those little children. I know she won't understand it all. But maybe, before she puts on one of her fuzzy new sweatsuits, she will thank Jesus for His good gifts.
