Being a parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I find it incredibly disturbing that I can love a little boy so much and be equally as frustrated with him a few minutes later. I know who I want each of my sons to become and when they fall short, I feel disappointment because they don’t measure up. I teach them that obedience is quickly and cheerfully following the direction that I give them. They are hardly quick and are rarely cheerful. I get so disheartened when they treat their friends better than they treat each other. I know it’s typical sibling stuff, but I don’t want that for my boys. I don’t want them to wait until they’ve matured and are entering adulthood before they become best friends. I want their love and respect for one another to begin now. But no matter how many “hold on” comments I get after I’ve given a “command” to them, no matter how many fights they pick with one another, no matter how many times their character proves to be less than I desire it to be, no matter what, I still love them. I’m their momma. And my relationship with my Heavenly Father is similar. I imagine he’d love for me to walk with Him every day without fail asking for His guidance in this world. But when I don’t, which is more often than I care to admit, He is still there with arms open wide ready to receive me. Just like a parent should. Oh, I have so much to learn.