I had one of those parenting moments this week where you say something to your child and realise you’ve never believed it about yourself.
My daughter had a bad day at school.
She made a bad choice, got in trouble, and ended up with detention in year 1 - brutal, I know.
In the grand scheme of life, detention isn't exactly life altering but if you've ever met my sweet, sensitive firstborn girl, who desperately wants to do the right thing all the time, you'll understand why this completely wrecked her.
She was devastated.
She was ashamed that she’d done the wrong thing, pretty embarrassed at being called out for it, and scared about what detention would be like.
She asked if she could stay home the next day, begging me not to make her go back.
And then, quietly from the backseat of the car, I heard her say: “I’m a bad girl.”
And honestly, it broke me, bcause I knew exactly what she meant.
She wasn't saying "I made a bad choice" she was saying “I am bad.”
I was shocked at how early we start doing this and how quickly we attach our mistakes to our identity.
She had one bad moment, made one bad call and suddenly it was her whole identity.
I love my daughter so much.
And one of the strange things about parenting is how often you end up seeing yourself in your kids, some days it feels less like i'm parenting them and more like God gently re-parenting me through them.
Because while she was spiralling over one mistake, I could see so clearly what was true about her.
She is kind.
She is tender-hearted.
She is thoughful.
And above all else, she is deeply loved.
Detention didn’t change any of that.
Her worst moment was not the truest thing about her and I remember looking at her (in the review mirror) in that moment thinking:
There is absolutely nothing this girl could do that would stop me loving her. absolutely nothing. She could get ten more detentions and I would still adore her, because she’s mine. She's my kid, my girl.
So I told her: “Everyone messes up sometimes, everyone makes mistakes but that does not make you a bad person" and while I was saying it to her, I felt this deep sense that God was saying it to me too.
I think a lot of us spend our lives relating to God based on our performance; If we’re doing well, we feel close to Him, If we fail, we pull away.
We disqualify ourselves from His closeness as though God’s affection rises and falls depending on how well we behave.
But God is a Father. Our Father. And I wonder if sometimes He looks at us the same way I looked at my daughter in her carseat; not disappointed but full of love.
Because your worst moment is not the truest thing about you either.