Today, shortly after Henry collapsed on the floor in a fit of rage/despair because I put his French toast on the wrong plate, I smiled at him and said:
“I know what this is. I have seen this before. THIS is the Terrible 2’s.”
“Henry, you are going to make it. You cannot tantrum loud enough to phase me because I know from whence this comes. Chances are you’re going to come through this at least relatively well-adjusted.”
I said, out loud:
YOU GUYS. Every grown person needs someone to tell them this. “I am not afraid of your tantrum. You cannot tantrum loud enough to scare me away. I love you when you are a raging, despairing, irrational hot mess."
Having kids helps me to love grown ups better. When someone is difficult to love, look for “whence it comes.”
And do you know what I just love about God? That He is big enough to handle my rage. That I cannot be irrational enough to phase Him. God is like, "I know what this is. I've seen this before. THIS is your Terrible Human Condition. Bring it on, man. Let me show you what immovable, unyielding, patient, forever-love looks like. Just rage 'til you're tired, and when you look up, you'll find me right here." God's love is bigger than my irrationality, and every time I look up, I see that I've been loved all along.