Parenting Redux

This is not me...but it's a good representation.

Today marks the day I begin my “no yelling” policy. I really want this to work.  Really. I do.  I had an epiphany this a.m., before church.  I can go from Beatitude to Attitude in sixty seconds or less.  I have to cut it out.  I don’t remember a single verse that reads “and Jesus yelled.”  Not a one.

I believe with all my heart that I am quite capable of raising my children and talking to my husband without yelling.  If I can sit here and type to you with all certainty that Jesus is my Lord and Savior, the model of perfect human temperament, then I can close my big, fat mouth.  My family yells.  I don’t want to anymore.  I. Stop. Now.

I know I will have setbacks, but that’s my goal.  Like it or lump it. But this kind of garbage:

Jesus then screamed at Peter…nope. Didn’t happen.

Jesus shouted across the room for James to get him something….uh-uh no way.

When Judas dipped the bread in the bowl, Jesus blew up at him and his neck veins stood out…again. no.

Jesus barked at the woman at the well, and used modified loud curse words like “friggin” at her….thankfully, no.

It’s about discipleship and grace.  Minus the hysterics.  It’s about modeling what is right, and wonderful about parenting, not passing on redneck crazy making.  I’m not talking about an environment with a total lack of rules and discipline.  I’m talking about helping my sons become the fishers of men they need to be in this broken world.  The yelling stops with me.

Praise GOD.

Thank You for Your grace and mercy that picks me up each time I fall.  I owe my life and all that I am to You.  Please help me succeed in this.  In the name of your precious Son, Jesus.  Amen.

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