With enough kids, two usually does it, every parent has a mirror. The child that acts just like us, reflects our childish faults that we hide behind social filters.
Big one is mine.
I see that day in college when I realized how other people saw me. An ice breaker that I'd played before, so I took charge of the 20 man group and told them exactly how to beat the game. Everyone blew me off, and I didn't understand why. Days later, I introduced myself to a new employee who responded, "Yeah, I heard about you... You're the one who told everybody how to play the game."
I was devastated - I was bossy. I was cold and controlling. I wouldn't let other people use their skill and imagination to solve a problem. My way was the only right. I wouldn't be friends with me.
I'd like to say I've outgrown that side, but DH can quickly refute it. Even if I don't say anything, my face contorts every time I hear a word mispronounced. I might go along with his plan, but my attitude lets him know my plan was better.
Parenting is the same devastating encounter. The heartache my kids approach weighs heavy on my momma heart. The mirror child reminds me of the sins I managed for years without repentance. Of the heart change that still has to occur in both of us.
Big one and I snuggle at nap time. I brush her hair with my fingers and pray. Lord thank you for the way she... how she... Everything that comes to mind brings frustration. Frustration because I know how much sin and hurt those same characteristics have wielded in me.
God, is there nothing in her that doesn't have to be redeemed first?!
Softly I hear my answer, Of course not. I must make all things new. Her entire personality must be made over. Every part of her can glorify me or idolize herself.
The same is true of me, of small one, of all of us. Nothing is born perfect, until it is reborn.
My heart calms. He planned every part of her, every part of me. And when he makes new, he can use every part of her, of me.