|Washing the "toilet toys"|
It's been a playing with bath toys in the toilet kind of week.
And dumping the salt shaker all over the floor THREE TIMES kind of week!
Rooster can now climb into our dining room chairs all by himself meaning nothing on the table is safe (hence the salt shaker problem).
He's earned himself a spot in time-out for taking the keys and running when his father clearly said, "Reuben, come here." It wasn't pretty. Weeping. Wailing. Gnashing of teeth.
He's whined and fussed all week when I refused to turn music on and throws an even bigger fit when I won't let him watch a movie.
Oh, and he bit my big toe! Although, I think that might have been more of a "hmm...I wonder what will happen if I do this" kind of thing.
But some weeks/months/years are just like that. You spend your day correcting, and training, and disciplining, and discipling, and for what? A really sore big toe.
But every now and then, in the middle of the mess, I see a ray of hope.
Rooster isn't allowed to carry his sippy cup all over the house. Drinks stay in the kitchen at the table or in his "milk chair". It's not a popular rule. He would much rather grab his cup and race off to more exciting things, usually leaving the cup growing mold in some remote corner of his room.
But every time he runs off with his cup, I bring him right back to his chair. Even though he cries and fights and locks his legs so I have to drag him to the kitchen, I bring him back every single time.
So today when I saw this, I just had to stop and take a picture.
It may look like a chair with a cup in it, but it's so much more than that.
It's the product of many hours of correction, patience, and perseverance. This is the result of what I do all day long. It's the light at the end of a very, very, very long tunnel.
This my friends is a picture of obedience.
Praise the Lord!