“Mommy, You Broke My Spirit.”

Seems like I just wrote about this, so I guess I blew it again. Yesterday evening, Angelo and I were trying to get stuff together and out the door for music practice and Bible study. Tony, in the meantime, was delightfully telling us he finished all the food on his plate so, where’s his treat?

I’ve been dealing with this treat demand for a while now, so I turned to him and told him very firmly that treats are special, so they should not be expected. My voice was firm, too firm probably, and impatient. Tony’s tender heart was broken, not over my denial of a treat, but the way I spoke my words, and he started to cry.

“Mommy, you broke my spirit,” he stammered through his sobs. “It’s gone way to heaven and I can’t get it back again.”

My heart melted; how could it not, and I took him into my arms.
“Should we ask Jesus to send it back to you,” I asked not even caring we were supposed to be out of the house by then.

“Does Jesus know how to give it back to me?” Tony asked looking at me with sad, hurt eyes.
“Yes, Jesus knows how to give it back, especially if I ask him and you to forgive me,” I replied with a hug. “Do you want me to pray?”

“Yes,” Tony said emphatically. “You better pray, because I need my spirit.”

So I prayed a prayer of repentance, and I asked Tony to forgive me as well.

Then Tony prayed asking for his spirit to be mended and sent back to him, and “so Mommy will stop being a bad girl, and to love me like she’s supposed to.”

What a humbling experience, and a reminder that young children share the most poignant truths.