Today was such a bi-polar day with Luke. It began with the rolling of his eyes, the huffing of his words, and ultimately -after I totally lost my cool- his leaving. I've never had a child run away from home. He didn't run. He walked. After I cooled off, or found my cool...whichever the case may be, I looked around for him and couldn't find him. My wounded heart began to palpitate just a bit as I wondered how far he would go. Had I run him off? Why do we have to do this EVERY day? Why can't he just obey me cheerfully? Why does he hate living here? with me? Is he coming back? Is he angry with himself or still with me?
He came back. And like usual, with few words, he just began to obey me quietly and diligently. Then, as we began to accomplish some things together, we slowly began to talk and laugh and work in harmony. Each of us too prideful or too ashamed to talk through the previous events.
The afternoon progressed without incident, then I took him to his friend's house for the evening. When the whole family was back together tonight, he whispered to me on the couch, "Do you want me and Landen to go back to our room for a while to give the girls a chance to talk to Dad and love on him since they haven't seen him much?" How sweet? How thoughtful? We worked harmoniously in the kitchen on the crock pot meal I had planned for tomorrow's lunch. Then in an enormous display of affection, he offered to finish alone and follow the recipe. He came in to my room a while later to show me the bowl of sauce. He wanted my approval before he poured it over the chicken. He put it in the fridge, and cleaned up his mess.
At odds in the A.M., evened out by the P.M. Really strange.
I know Luke needs my attention. And he has proven over the last decade that he is willing to get it at any cost...and on some level, it doesn't really matter whether it's good attention or bad attention. It's been this way for years. Philip says we're too much alike, but on this point, we are opposites. I can't stand negative attention. It makes me physically ill. Maybe he shares this feeling, but needs attention so badly, that a little sickness is worth it in the long run. I DON'T KNOW!
I LOVE HIM! I told him that today in tears. He doesn't say those words to me. The other children say it constantly. I tell them each and all that I love them all the time. He doesn't hear me. I want to get through to him. I want him to love me, but I loved him first, and I'm not gonna stop loving him - no matter what.
Dear Father, thank You for Luke. That's all I can say with out bawling. You know my heart. Forgive my outburst of anger. I know I need to ask Luke to forgive me too. Maybe I'll go wake him up. Thank You for never sleeping and for loving us first. You're a great papa! Please bring healing to our home.
