I grew up going to the Broward County Fair. Every year my best friend Morella and I would look forward to the Friday night when we would put our lives in danger on roller-coasters that were likely not meeting safety standards and overpay to play games that would win us life-sized stuffed animals. And for some unknown reason, which now feels like foreshadowing, my favorite game to play was whack-a-mole.
Recent months have shown me, in an entirely new way, how much I need God to help me parent the children He has entrusted to me. I need to know the power of God in my parenting. I cannot do this alone. And when I attempt to do it alone, which I don’t do intentionally but it is part of my human nature, I find myself far more exhausted and discouraged and overwhelmed than when I am parenting in the power of God’s Spirit—the Holy Spirit.
There is so much pressure in our culture to pretend we are sufficient enough and strong enough to face what this life throws our way. But as Christians we enjoy the benefit of having the supernatural strength of the Spirit., Paul wrote about a handicap in his life that kept him ever aware of his human limitations.
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