“But I tell you that every careless word that people speak, they shall give an accounting for it in the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” (Matthew 12:36-37).
Growing up, school has always come easy to me. I always excelled in my classes. At one point they wanted to skip me in elementary school. My parents never questioned my homework, did I study for test, was there a project due., ect. They just knew that I would come home with honors. I wasn’t celebrated, it was just expected.
My twin on the other hand, always struggled in school. I would watch him sit at the table for hours after school attempting to complete the work that I breezed through. It just didn’t come as easy for him. He would constantly get in trouble regarding his school work. My parents both worked full time jobs and neither had the patience that he needed to complete his assignments. So, he continued to struggle and literally JUST passed each year.
When I gave birth to my son I noticed various similarities that he and my twin shared. One of the biggest was his struggle with school. Now, I’m going to be honest. If as a young mother I was busy reading to him, and working on his numbers and math with him instead of chasing after his father, and playing detective, he would have certainly been further along and struggled a lot less, BUT, I didn’t, so here we are. He is now a freshman in high school and he is behind his grade level. I must admit, I saw this progressing from middle school, but I was in denial. I made excuses for him instead of really pushing him to work harder. A few weeks ago, God began to speak to me through visions. He brought back to me the memories of my twin, struggling at the table. I could vividly see the tears in his eyes and the anxiety that plagued his mind. Behind him I could see what was actually not there, and that was the support from our parents. It became clear to me that God was showing me what could very well happen to my son if I didn’t step in and cut off that generational curse. So I jumped into action. I began calling the administrators, and requesting meetings. Really talking to my son and seeking God in prayer for direction. As I laid before God one evening last week he placed on my heart the spirit of conviction. I mean this thing tore me up. He began to show me the various parts of my son’s struggle that I needed to own. He showed me the time I rang the door bell of my son’s father’s home, and then ran to my car down the street, and watched the door until he came and picked my son up out of his car seat. He showed me how I wouldn’t answer the phone none of the ten times his father called me because I felt like I was justified since he was slacking off as a father. He showed me the times I cussed his father out in front of him or refused to send him clothes for the weekend because I felt his father needed to spend some money on him. Now don’t get me wrong, my son never lacked of anything materialistic. He was well taken care of, but for the first three years of his life my main focus wasn’t on him like it should have been, it was on making his father miserable for hurting me. God showed me all of that AND some and then asked, “Now did you think you wouldn’t be held accountable?”.
See, we think that those actions don’t affect our kids because they were so young. We convince ourselves that they couldn’t possibly remember that, but the truth is they do. When we hurt, they hurt. When we cried, they cried. When we screamed, it scared them. The anxiety they feel, that’s because of the situations that we placed them in the middle of. When we used them as a pawn in the games we played, we planted rejection in their spirit. We did that…I did that. So now 14 years later, I am trying to repair damage that I did physiologically, that is manifesting it’s self through his school work, and his behavior and I feel like as his mother, the person who carried him within her womb, who had such great plans for his life and even had great intentions, has failed him. What now?
God sent me reassurance through one of his servants. He said that my son will be okay, but as for me, this is not a storm that he will pull me out of, this is a storm that I must weather and it won’t be easy. In fact it will be hard. It will hurt. I’m going to cry. I’m going to scream. I’m going to be angry, but in the end, my son will have the victory.