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Thursday, August 25, 2016

I Don't Really Want to Hurt My Child

I'm delaying the fourth installment of "Restoring Love" so that I can let you know about my story, "I Don't Really Want to Hurt My Child" being featured on the Vision61 website. 

Vision61 is a ministry of hope for hurting people offering  practical help and the victorious stories of others. Here's my story....

Darcy's training pants were wet again. Again!

Marching over to my two-year-old daughter, I directed her into the bathroom. As I struggled to pull down the soaking pants, I felt a rush of frustration and a sense of failure.

"Darcy, you're supposed to come in the bathroom and go in the potty chair. Why can't you learn?" I continued to berate her. As I began spanking her with my hand, my tension and exhaustion found an outlet. Spanking changed to hitting.

Darcy's uncontrollable screaming brought me back to reason. Seeing the red blister on her bottom, I dropped to my knees.

"How can I act this way?" I sobbed. "I love Jesus. I don't really want to hurt my child. Oh, God, please help me."

The rest of the day I held my anger in check. The next day started out pleasantly. I watched my happy daughter. How could I ever be angry with you or want to hurt you?

But as the day progressed and pressures closed in on  me, I became impatient. I look forward to a few moments of peace while Darcy and two-month-old Mark took their naps.

Telling Darcy to play quietly in her room, I rocked Mark to sleep. Just as I laid him carefully into his crib, Darcy burst into the room shouting, "Mommy, I want to color."

Mark woke up crying. I grabbed Darcy by the shoulders, shook her, and screamed, "Shut up! Shut up! I want him to go to sleep!"

Both Darcy and Mark credit as I shoved Darcy aside, rushed out of the bedroom, and walked through the house, banging walls, and slamming doors. Only after I kicked a kitchen cupboard and dented it did my anger subside.

As the weeks turned into months, my anger habit worsened. At times I grew so violent that I hit my toddler in the head. Other times I kicked her or slapped her face.

As a Christian for ten years, I was ashamed. "Oh, God," I prayed over and over again, "please take away my anger." Yet no matter how much I prayed...

...Read the rest of my story here


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