I love to read but you will probably never see me reading an instruction booklet of any sort. I might google the condensed version using the words "kids learn about..." to begin my search. Like my digital watch. Couldn't set an alarm on it to save my life. Googled, "how to set alarm on Timex Ironman." Too many words.  So I asked my 8th grader to do it for me. Did I have the little instruction booklet? Sure.The millions and millions of words on the page of an instruction booklet begin to blur together until a dull ache begins at the base of my skull creeping over my brain like a dark veil. I can't think or even see clearly. Death. Instruction booklets are death to me.Overdramatic? Maybe. Need medication? Possibly.Today, however, there is one instruction manual that I would read from cover to cover.  You would see me highlighting and taking notes.Unfortunately, my children did not come with one. Six walking, talking, eating, growing kids in my house and not one instruction book. Did I mention that three of them are teenagers? THREE. Two are tweeners. One is a walking hot mess of hurt and anger.I caught myself today questioning the irrational behavior of children who argue and fight the people who love them most in this world. Their parents. As a mother, I try to shop healthy, limit screen time, send them outside for vitamin D. You would think that when they look at me they see an alien monster trying to suck out their brains for breakfast. Nevermind that I buy them gifts, drive them where they need to go, bandage their boo boos, snuggle them often, watch every animated movie they choose, and cook their favorites as often as I can.I had this idea. I wanted to bring in a wheelbarrow of junk food and dump it in the middle of the living room. Then I would turn the TV on Disney XD as loud as possible. I would then tell the children that they could stay up as late as they want and skip school if they wanted. Indefinitely.  I might say something like, "go ahead, let your brains turn to mush and work at Subway the rest of your life. Let your teeth rot out. Diabetes might be fun too. Stare at a screen until you go blind. You can always get a guide dog. Oh, and Tall Girl, feel free to state out as late as you want with whoever you want, driving as fast as you want in your car that you didn't pay for."Of course, I would say all of this in a big dramatic huff and then walk out because "I quit!"Bad idea. I know that, but don't you ever get tired of trying to love and care for someone but fighting them every step of the way? Parenting is not for sissies and I totally get why moms quit. They give in to the whines and the tantrums and the disrespect. My children can make me feel like I'm not doing "enough' for them. They can leave me feeling used and taken for granted. Master manipulators, they are. So why bother?Love. Love must keep going, seeking the good. Encouraging, protecting, nourishing, instructing.When my sweet adopted son had an abscessed tooth and needed a painful shot of antibiotics, I held him down. I fought him. He screamed in his limited English, "No Mommy! No Mommy!" Love would not let him run out of the examining room, cheek swollen, eyes full of fear. Love held him down for medicine that would bring healing.I'm tired. Weary from the fight. I walked out of my house tonight unable to hear one more "no Mommy!"As I sit in a quiet place, music playing through my headphones, writing this, a whisper makes its way to my heart. It is the whisper of one who loves me most. My Father.He gently reminds me of times he had to hold me down, the days I fought him, the choices that I made that grieved him. He told me which way to go. Told me what might happen down the path I was headed, but I walked it anyway.So thankful that he never threw those days in my face or walked out in a huff saying, "I quit!"Love is patient...Love is kind. It always protects...always perseveres. Love never fails.We are battling for our children. For their health, their education, their futures, their souls. We can't give up and neither can we expect them to say today, "Wow! Thanks for making me whole wheat muffins instead of those poisonous poptarts!" Not today. We cannot expect it today.We can hope that one day they will see our efforts for what they were. We hope that that the way we loved them will one day shape their parenting, that they won't let their children live on Cheetos and Dr. Pepper. That their sons won't live in the basement until they're 30 playing X-Box and waiting for the perfect job.They may be screaming "No Mommy!" now, but we must continue to parent with the love of our Savior who has a plan for their lives. Plans to prosper them, not to harm them. Plans to give them a hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)Don't give up. Don't give in. Love never fails.So sister, put your combat boots back on. ;) You're the mom! Be the mom!  You know what's best for them. Each child is different and none come with an instruction manual, but we have God's word to us, his love living in us. His word says that we have everything we need to be godly mothers. His promise says that he will finish what he begins in our little monsters. He tells us to be slow to anger, to guard our hearts, to let our gentleness be evident to all, to forgive them as he forgives us.He loves us relentlessly. Let's love our children like he loves us.You're not alone. We are better together.I would love to hear from you this week as we walk this way together girl! I'm going back home to kiss them good night and tell them that when they move out, I hope that they don't live on junk food and stupid TV shows.Jesus tells us "Come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest." Whew!