Therapy

It finally happened. I knew the day would come when my kid would be on a therapist’s couch, talking about how my shortcomings have doomed him to a life of misery.

Actually, it sounds like it wasn’t quite that bad. 

Jed and Maddie apparently discussed how to deal with anger in one of their recent premarital counseling sessions, and the counselor—whom we know, who knows us, whose eyes we look into every week at church—asked them to describe how they witnessed their own parents dealing with anger.

The day of reckoning has arrived.

Surprisingly, although Jeddy could do an uncanny impression of me angry [“You would throw the books on the table and say WE ARE DONE WITH SCHOOL”], he then added that I never got angry unless he deserved it because he was being a pain. Which is very humbling and makes me give praise to God, because I know I was in sin many times, but what he remembers is his own sin.

He also did an embarrassingly accurate impression of me trying to cope with my anger when Caleb does things such as leave food on the couch—a frenzied two-handed face-rubbing that everyone, including Maddie, recognized and laughed at.

As far as I can tell, the counselor did not tell Jeddy that he is doomed to a life and marriage of misery due to maternal failure.

His mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23