Someday, she'll thank me for this.

Today was one of those days when God says:

"THIS is why you have kids. You have kids because they're more effective than a mirror."

I opted not to be Eden's piano teacher for a few reasons. Mainly, because, I didn't want to be her piano teacher. I desperately want her to learn, to embrace the gift that is music, to be able to connect with her soul and communicate the beauty inside of her to the world outside.

I just didn't want to be the one fighting with her. I didn't feel like "because I said so" would motivate her as well as "because Dr. G said so." And that part was right. Those words, like they did with me 20 years ago, hold some serious weight.

But the fighting? Oh, it's epic. I don't have to be her teacher. I have to be her practice buddy. Turns out, that's harder than being the teacher.

Daily, I sit with her on the bench, patiently pointing out mistakes, counting along, singing the words. We talk about louds and softs and tone quality and rhythm. It's pretty heady stuff for a 5-year-old. And she can handle it. She plays beautifully. Until she doesn't.

At some point during every practice session, there is an explosion. Usually she blows first, and I am not far behind. She gets frustrated or bored, and flips her lid.

I try to put my finger on what it is that gets at me, and what I usually land on is "unmet potential." Now I know there are a whole host of factors to consider here - mainly, that she is FIVE YEARS OLD. But I am here to tell you that fighting with a 5-year-old is brutally exhausting. As I've written before, part that is the most exhausting is restraining myself. You know...being the parent.

The easy thing to do would be to decide that this is not for us, and that we are going to "head in another direction" to keep the peace. But I know that I would be doing my daughter - and the world - a terrible disservice. Learning to play the piano is hard, that's all there is to it. Harder, still, to learn correctly. Near impossible to learn beautifully. Her teacher and I have the opportunity to mold this little child into an incredible musician. But it would be easier to give up.

As I was thinking about how to blog this today, God hit me with that thing above, about kids being little living mirrors. I thought about how Philip Yancey pointed out that Jesus's frustration with the disciples wasn't because they kept saying dumb things, but because he saw what they could be, and wanted so desperately for them to become that. And I think about how that's probably how God feels about me. About us.

And yet, in his infinite patience, He never gives up. He never "heads another direction," or finds the easier path for me. He doesn't sign me up for ballet because that's what all the other little girls are doing. If He wants to mold me into a pianist because that's where my gifts are, He's going to mold me into a pianist. And wouldn't it be easier if I just went with it?

I'll thank Him for it someday.