{"id":118102,"date":"2021-09-25T17:49:57","date_gmt":"2021-09-25T23:49:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp-stage.familylife.com\/www\/?p=118102"},"modified":"2021-09-25T17:49:57","modified_gmt":"2021-09-25T23:49:57","slug":"teachable-moments-from-your-epic-parenting-fails-other-disasters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp-stage.familylife.com\/www\/articles\/topics\/parenting\/foundations\/character-development\/teachable-moments-from-your-epic-parenting-fails-other-disasters\/","title":{"rendered":"Teachable Moments from Your Epic Parenting Fails & Other Disasters"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

Let\u2019s call this Exhibit A. It was a phone call to my 4-year-old I wished I didn\u2019t have to make. It was also an unforgettable teachable moment \u2026 for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The whole situation had been so classically me<\/em> at that stage of my life. Surrounded by the paper-towel-commercial life of multiple preschoolers, I rode alternating waves of apple juice, laundry, and exhaustion. My emotional control swung low.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I\u2019d attempt to leave the house with the perpetrators, one of them would mess their pants or fail to produce matching shoes (the nerve!). I never seemed to have enough margin. So we were always late, and I was always yelling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Worse, after raging at my son that morning, I didn\u2019t offer a heart-level apology.<\/a> Whether he realized it or not, I\u2019d still been infuriated<\/em> and focused on his error. Hence, I picked up my cell to call him at my mom\u2019s and attempt something more Christlike.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What I\u2019ll always remember? His response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMommy, I forgive you. And I want to let you know that even when you do bad things, I still love you. And even when you do bad things, God still loves you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now I felt really<\/em> bad for yelling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The power of this teachable moment lay in my 4-year-old repeating the encapsulated gospel back to me. He not only got it; he applied it.<\/em> (Granted, that night after he spit on the bathroom mirror, his response felt less glorious: \u201cI want to let you know that even when I do bad things, I still love you.\u201d)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But God\u2019s underlined this theme through so much of my parenting life. Those moments that feel like sheer failure or loss or chaos? He seizes them as disciple-making, God-honoring moments.<\/p>\n\n\n

Exhibit B: The failed audition<\/h2>\n\n\n

My 13-year-old and I sat across a sticky table from each other at the local donut shop. He held this maple-frosted planet in hand, totally at my permission (unusual for my anti-sugar tendencies). His tears had dried, a whisper of salt on his cheeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just feel like I have more setbacks than wins,\u201d he shrugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the day that, out of the four saxophonists who auditioned for advanced band, three made it in. Being No. 4 stunk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s also my kid with learning disorders. But that means that out of my four kids, three find school relatively easy. One doesn\u2019t. (Sensing a pattern?) My son was becoming good friends with striking out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My heart wanted to scoop him up like when he was little and let him laugh out loud at Clifford the Big Red Dog.<\/em> (Maybe that would compound a teenager\u2019s sense of failure?)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But this was an open door to:<\/p>\n\n\n