This morning I promise myself to be patient and loving. I will not yell. I want a peaceful home. I will not yell. Two minutes pass, and chaos surrounds me. Kids want this, and husband needs that. I just smile.
I am armed with ammunition of love. When faced with challenges of lost shoes or siblings arguing, I say nothing. Instead, I give a heart. Shooting a heart may be more appropriate in a house of boys, but there are enough projectiles flying around. On the heart is the message, whatever the message needs to be. The recipient reads it, thanks me kindly for the reminder, and we both move on. Tranquility…
Reality is different. If I give my kids candy hearts, they’d be on a sugar high. They’d also learn quickly to misbehave so they could get candy. However, this idea of candy hearts may not be all bad for me. It’d remind me to speak with love, to ensure whatever I say is spoken to encourage or teach. It could remind me to address just that issue and not drone on. Too often, I yell at those I love dearly. I react instantly instead of taking a moment to think. A message on a heart from me reminds me to speak from the heart—with love and make that my reality.
sherylscript 