That Mom

I've become "that mom."

The one that gets the look from random strangers in restaurants.

In grocery stores.

At the park.

The one that is helpless to do anything about her child's behavior.

The one that doesn't know where to begin to explain what is really going on.

Why her child is screaming and completely out of control.

Why her child just pushed another child when that child accidentally (and barely) brushed against his shoulder.

Why her child is cowering in the middle of the gas station - screaming and plugging his ears with his fingers.

Those looks cut right through me.

But not because the judging hurts me.

What hurts is knowing that I was once the one giving the looks.

I was the judge.

And I was so wrong.

Now when I come across the path of that mom I feel a surge of compassion.

A sense of solidarity.

I want to reach out and hug that mom.  Tell her I understand.

And I want to repent.

Being "that mom" has made me a better person.
Because it's made me turn to "that ONE."

The ONE who sees "that mom" and "that child" and reaches out His arms to us.
And loves us.

And then "This Mom" is forgiven and changed.

And new.