Pleading Insanity

I am raising a spicy little three-nager.

I love her to the stars.  She is smart…too smart.  She is hilarious.  And she is hard to discipline because of that equation.

The other night she threw a toy up and it hit something on the wall almost causing it to break.  I looked at her and asked her to not throw her toy again.

She looked at me dead in the eyes and threw it right at me, which I dodged, and it struck a picture hanging on her wall.

Glory be…I had to cling to the grace in that moment.

I pointed to the corner, she hung her head and walked the walk of shame to take a seat.  She had a few fake sniffles (she didn’t really care that she had thrown the toy…at all…so she had to fake it…smart) as she sat with her head shoved into the corner.

In our house, during time out (which makes up large quantities of time these precious days) we have a policy.

You can not get up until you can explain what you did, why you did it and how you are going to “make wiser choices” in the future.

(hold the applause…don’t give out that parents of the year award just yet)

After a few minutes my spicy one called me back into her room.

“I’ve worked it out mama.”

“Ok.  Whatcha got?”

“Mom….I was confused.” (she motioned her hands towards her head)

“No you weren’t Liv.”

“I was confused in my MIND mama.”  (now pointing to her head with both hands)

“What do you mean you were confused?  Did you throw your toy?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Did I tell you to not do it again?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Did you do it again?”

“Yes ma’am.” (and she dramatically hung her head down in shame)

“Then you weren’t confused.  You knew what you were choosing.”

There was a long pause and my little baby-love looked at me and said:

“Mom.  Listen. I was confused.  I didn’t know who I was when I did that…I didn’t know where I was or what was happening …I didn’t know how cuckoo I really am.”
(all of this said while wildly waving her hands in the air)

I had no words.  I could feel that inner giggle beginning.  The corners of my mouth threatened to rise up and ruin this very important teachable moment.

My three-nager had just literally plead innocent on the grounds of mental insanity.  

Mental unrest.  No knowledge of herself, her surroundings or how cuckoo-capable she was.

“Turn around,” I said.

I only said it so I could bury my face in her pillow in hysterical laughter.

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Sometimes we need to practice the old fashion art of fessin’ up.

How often do we look our Father straight in the eyes and do, again, the thing that He has gently warned us against?  How many times do we choose to repeat the same behavior that is causing us stress, anxiety and drawing our hearts away from Jesus?

Sin is affecting us.  Sin may be eating us alive.

We need to own up to what we’re doing.

No more excuses.

No more pleading mental insanity to the one who knows our minds better than we do.

We need to step out into the light, to the feet of Jesus, and simply ask forgiveness.

IF we admit it…raise our hand in confession…HE IS FAITHFUL to do what He said He would do.  He gives us a clean slate, a fresh start, a break from our sin.

Confession, fessing up, is the key.

Jesus cares more about our owning up to, and being forgiven from, the junk in our lives than He does about the actual junk.  Isn’t that so freeing?

He’s all about the process… the humbling ourselves and admitting we need Him type of process that ultimately brings us closer to Him and teaches us the most about His one-thousand chance heart.

There’s no need for us to come up with a story, wave our hands wildly and excuse ourselves from needing forgivingness.

Excusing sin, for any reason, or justifying it, only makes us feel better for a moment. But it is a BIG OLD GREEN LIGHT to keep right on doing that very thing.

The only way off of the merry-go-round of repetitive and crippling sin is confession.  Owning up to sin, making it known, snatches the power right out of the hand of the devil, who wants nothing more than to keep that merry-go-round spinning, keeping us dizzy and stuck.

We serve a forgiving God.  A God who leans in to our confession and heals our broken spots as we bring them to Him.  He can free us up.  He wants to free us up.

No matter how cuckoo we are.