Cleaning out the junk

As is often the case, my 7-year-old daughter Kate recently illuminated a truth to me in a way that opened my eyes and made me see this broken world a little bit clearer. 

She and her younger sister, Sela, had just had a total meltdown fight over something trivial and I separated them, sending Kate to a quiet spot in the den. I gave them time to cool down, then I went to Kate first to figure out what in the world had happened. (Little note about my stellar parenting skills: Since Kate’s the oldest child, I often expect her to act like an adult and I get exasperated when she does something to show that she’s still just a child.) 

I tried my best to sit quietly and let her say whatever was on her mind. Sometimes this backfires — she’ll just sit and wait for me to speak, not offering any explanation for her overreaction or otherwise errant behavior. Then other times, it does work and stuff comes pouring out. This was one of those times. 

“I don’t know why I was mean to Sela,” she said through tears. “It’s like I think of something and it sticks in my mind like glue and I can’t get it to go away.” Then came the kicker. “I’m a terrible big sister.” 

In those few words, I saw the downward spiral that was her mind: She did something she regretted, saw the bad thing as inevitable because it felt like she couldn’t not do it, and that made her a terrible person. I understood the spiral because it’s often how my mind works too. Funny how we can go from one bad choice to condemning ourselves as bad and hopeless and destined to continue doing these things we hate. 

Think of the vortex at the Homewood community pool: It whirls around with such force that it attracts junk —bugs, leaves, stray balls. The stuff just sits there in the center, swirling around, unable to make its way out of the vortex because the pull is so strong. That’s how I see our minds sometimes — it’s easy for the bad stuff to get sucked in, and once it makes its way to the center, it’s hard to pull it out. The bad stuff “sticks like glue,” as Kate said.

As the mom, hearing Kate say those things made me want to refute it all: You’re not bad, your heart is so sweet, you’re a wonderful big sister. But the truth was, she was right. Not about being a bad big sister, but about the gunk that clogs up our hearts. She hit the nail on the head and I didn’t want to make her feel like her analysis was wrong, because really, it was so smart. 

Later that night, I read two verses to her. I’m always careful about pulling out verses in a situation like this because I don’t want it to feel I can fix all her problems just by quoting a Bible verse, but these two immediately popped into my mind and I wanted to pour them into her soul so they soaked in deeper than the gunk. 

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.” (Or as The Message puts it, think about “the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.”) And the other verse was the most important: “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” 

Those words have been as much a balm to me this week as to her — “He will quiet you with his love, rejoice over you with singing.” Seven or 37, we both need someone to quiet us with love and rejoice over us, replacing the junk in the center with things that are right and true.

You can reach me by email me at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks, Twitter @LaurenKDenton, or on Facebook. My debut novel, THE HIDEAWAY, is available wherever books are sold.