God, Give Me

More than once (much more, in fact) during my childhood, my parents wondered if they'd actually raised a good daughter. I was always seemingly picking fights with my siblings. Especially my younger brother (I couldn't stand him). I was called sassy and snarky, rude, impertinent, bossy (that was a favorite), and if they'd known the word incorrigible back then, I probably would've been called that too. I am sure there were moments when they doubted I would ever be able to get along with the rest of the family. My dad repeatedly mentioned (casually, but intentionally in my presence) that the thing that makes parents saddest is watching their children fight. 

He was talking about me.

I know, I know. It's crazy to imagine. Sweet little silent Esther was sassy and rude? What can I say? I knew how to win arguments with my siblings. I knew how to get them to give me what I wanted. But more than that, I had this little miniature mom, rule-following, obedient heart that wanted to parent my siblings more than they wanted to be parented. I was trying to make the house a more peaceful place by getting everyone to do what they were supposed to do, follow the rules, and finish their chores. Sadly, I usually made things worse, but... I was trying?

Unfortunately my parents couldn't see the good intentions behind my terrible actions so they lamented my behavior, lectured, punished, and tried to teach good values. What they couldn't see (and even I couldn't see it most of the time) was the little girl who was trying to be kind but just couldn't figure out how and kept messing up and kept getting it wrong or kept trying new things but fell back on old habits. A girl who wanted nothing more than to be nice and sweet and obedient but couldn't understand why her siblings didn't seem to want the same things. 

That's the girl who wrote this poem.

 

God, Give Me - August 2012

God, give me patience with my siblings today.

The siblings I love, I supposedly say.

God, give me patience when they are unkind.

When I scold and I plead but they don't seem to mind.

God, give me kindness when I want revenge--

A sweet understanding that will not avenge.

God, give me goodness that I don't destroy fun

With uncaring, thoughtless words spoken to them.

 

God, give me grace to forgive when they're rude.

When they don't do the dishes or make a mess in my room.

God, give me long-suffering as I try not to complain,

Knowing full well that I'll mess up again.

 

And, God, if Thou bless it, someday they'll comprehend

All the things that I did out of great love for them.

All the quick-tempered words I choked back in a fight,

And the times that I prayed for the strength not to smite.

 

God, give me love for my siblings always.

They're so different from me, much to my dismay.

Help me remember this is your design—

Unique people, varied knowledge, yet all divine.

 

God, give me the strength to obey when You say

To love all I meet because this is Your way.

Though they sometimes seem strange or hurt me, I pray,

God, give me love for Your children today.

P.S. I wrote most of this at age 12, but couldn't quite figure out how to finish it back then. 10 years later, I rearranged the order of some lines, changed a few words to enhance the rhythm, and added the final stanza. Everything else was written in 2012.