Home > Uncategorized > Give Them Grace when they poop on you

Give Them Grace when they poop on you

On Monday night my youngest son went to bed with a mild cold. But a mild cold for that boy instigates an explosive attitude that makes Mt. Vesuvius look chill and predictable. So I tried to be gracious with him though frustrated the whole time by his 2 yr old antagonistic disobedience throughout our bedtime routine. Finally, though literally kicking and screaming, I tucked him in to bed so tight he couldn’t move. or so I thought.

That napoleonic tyrant climbed out of bed, up the ladder to his older brother’s bunk, and proceeded to stoop to a new level of disgust. From downstairs I heard the 3 yr old cry “Dad, Ben needs you.” Why does he need me zeke? And as calm as if he was just talking about the weather the good son for the day said “Because he pooped on my bed.”

Yes. That’s right. I rushed up stairs to find what I can only compare to a chimpanzee exhibit. A 2 yr old mammal with poop in his hands rubbing it on the comforter, the bed frame, and once i picked him up….my shirt & shorts. (Pause for a great aside note: Downstairs was the couple courtney and I are ‘mentoring’ right now as they prepare for their wedding in october.) The only sound I apparently got out was a rapid fire succession of alarmed “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” Courtney came running to turn off my panic switch. I then evac’d the beast to the shower where I could properly clean him. And you better believe I took a shower once he was done. With the poop gone, and the commentating son’s sheets changed, we put them to bed again….

2 hours later…crying. The beast was awake. I go in to find him, his pants, shirt, and entire top half of his mattress smelling like a urinal. He’d wet the bed. SO I take off the second set of sheets for the night. Change him into his 3rd set of jambes for the night. put on a new set of sheets (our last clean set I think) and head back to bed…

4am…Napoleon has made it into our bed some time ago. Maybe midnight. He kicked me in the face so I white-flagged my way to the couch leaving he & his mother in the king sized bed. maybe I’ll catch some shut eye.

6am…Courtney brings this tiny terrorist down to me. He’s peed on our bed, my side of course. Out of beds for this child I am forced to be “up for the day” at 6am with him. And he sits down beside me and says “Hey daddy, I pee pee in your bed!” with a grin on his face.

I gotta be honest. I had nothing. Everything in me wanted to take revenge but social services definitely wouldn’t approve of that, let alone Jesus. So I prayed a little. Just a “Jesus I don’t want to kill my son so I’m gonna need strength and I’ve got nothing.” Soon after that my son, I KID YOU NOT, brought me my bible and asked me to read it to him. My bible. not even his storybook picture bible. In that moment I remembered God has set me as the shepherd of this boy. To train him in character and show him the love God has for him. And just like a shepherd, sometimes that means dealing with poop. God is our father, which means he’s dealt with far more manipulative adult sized rebellion than what I’m talking about. Yet he still responds over and over in love instead of vengeance. In the cross the wrath of God towards my sin was satisfied. So I am nothing except a recipient of grace.

One day I’m gonna tell my son about how he soiled every bed in the house, in one night, except his 4 mo. old baby sister’s crib. And I hope I will be able to tell him how God shaped me just a little through that. To show me just a shadow of the garbage he has loved us through.

My point in all of this? 1. kids make awesome illustrations. period. 2. Every frustrating moment in our lives is an opportunity to see and worship the God whose mercy & justice met at the cross as a gift of grace to me. Live in grace, even when the poop hits the top bunk.

Categories: Uncategorized
  1. July 4, 2012 at 11:08 pm

    You ain’t a real parent until you get a little fecal matter rubbed on you. Congratulations. Phenomenal post.

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