Do You Still Love Me?

I have a four year old son. Not just any four year old, a very mischevious, light hearted boy. One who has won his way out of many moments when he should have been reprimanded by flashing his winning smile, shrugging his shoulders and skipping away. He is incredibly social with a multitude of friends, imaginary and otherwise. He is my youngest and loves to be the center of attention. Always.

He goes to preschool four mornings a week. His teachers have adopted the current method of classroom discipline using the stoplight as a monitor for behavior. If the children are good, they remain on 'green'. If they begin to misbehave and need a warning, they are moved to 'yellow'. On the rare occasion the child will not listen and requires the highest degree of preschool discipline, they are moved to the 'red' portion of the stoplight. If they have stayed on 'green' with an occasional 'yellow' warning, they get to choose a small toy or treat from a treasure box at the end of the week. However, if they are ever relegated to the red zone that week, they are restricted from taking part in the ritual of the treasure box, watching as their friends who have behaved choose their treasures. The ultimate tragedy for a four year old.

Santa came to visit my son's preschool this week. What should have been an exciting and happy day turned into chaos for the preschool teachers and by the time the parents arrived to pick up the children, half of the class had been moved to the red light. My son, even though being told he would not receive his treasure the following day, was not concerned. He had received two new books and an entire bag of candy from Santa that morning. He was more than content to misbehave, get his Santa goodies and not receive his treasure the next day. When his teachers expressed their dismay at his lack of concern over his misbehavior or the consequences, it was my turn to intervene. I knelt in the hallway outside his classroom and talked to him about the importance of having respect for his teachers. I told him about the privileges he had lost at home and we established consequences for any future misbehavior. As we drove home, I reminded him of his older brother's 'no red' good behavior streak which is now in its second grade year. Still relatively unfazed, when we arrived home I told my young son that he could only have his Santa treats once he had written a note apologizing to his teachers. It took him quite some time to form the letters in his crude handwriting and write out the words in the short letter. At this point he finally started to express some remorse for his behavior. He told me sincerely that he was sorry and that he would listen better at school. Relieved that I had finally made some headway in my 'sorrow for the stoplight' campaign, I set him at the kitchen table with his now earned Santa treats and went to work on the computer.

A few minutes later, as I was busily typing away, he crawled up into my lap. He gave me a huge hug and then pulled my face in front of his. His eyes were large and questioning as he asked, "But Mom, do you still love me?" Tears quickly filled my eyes as I hugged him tighter and said, "Of course. I will always love you, no matter what you do." Instantly reassured, he ran back to the table to finish off his chocolate kisses. I sat quietly staring at the computer screen. I couldn't get my tears to stop for some time. I felt so guilty that in my desire to discipline this ever mischevious boy, I had forgotten to teach him the most important part. That even though I didn't like his behavior, I would always love him. I am his mother. Nothing he could do would ever change that. Ever.

I then realized how grateful I was that he had asked the question. Rather than feeling that he had infinitely disappointed me, he asked for love, for forgiveness, for compassion. I sat in the quiet of the afternoon, picturing a loving Father in Heaven, waiting for me to come to him. Seeing my heart filled with guilt and remorse for my behavior, waiting for me to ask the question, "But Father, do you still love me?" I saw Him patiently waiting and wanting to shower me with love, forgiveness and compassion. Because even when He doesn't like my behavior, He will always love me. He is my Father. Nothing I could do would ever change that. Ever.