The Fruits of the Spirit and the War Within

My parents' main form of discipline for me when I was a child, was a mixture of yelling, name calling (mostly "stupid") and disappointed looks, sighs and grunts. It has become clear to me that it is so true what they say about how a child learns. A child learns by watching the behavior of the people they spend the most time with. Like it or not, I learned how to treat young children, from my my parents, even though I hated how I was treated. To this day, I hate to be yelled at, and I hate using the word stupid. It is one of the non-curse words that my kids are not allowed to say in any context (not even when referring to an inanimate object like a rock.)
Despite my dislike for how I was disciplined as a child, that is what I learned. It is ingrained in me, and what I know. It's how I naturally operate as a parent, and I hate myself for it. It's like I can see the damage occurring to my children as it happens, but I am powerless to stop it. Now, please don't think that I just absolutely fly off the handle and scream at them until my voice is hoarse. What happens is, I raise my voice to tell them something. My yelling doesn't last long, usually just a sentence or two, but it is wholly unnecessary and way too frequent. I don't want my children to talk about how their mother yelled a lot. "She was really loving," I can hear them saying sometime in the future, "but she yelled a lot for things that were not a big deal." Don't my children deserve to have the best parent possible? Yes! The thing is, it's in my heart to treat them more kindly and with more fairness, (they are kids after all), but something in me, the side of me that is naturally drawn to sin and evil, just keeps flaring up when my kids show their imperfections. I know God wants what is best for us, and I was losing the battle to do right over wrong. I needed to change something.
I had begun getting up before the kids, or at least trying to. Sometimes they get up at an ungodly hour, and there is no hope of recovering my morning. On the days that my plan works though, I am able to get up, and do some Bible study while having a cup of decaffeinated coffee. (I look forward to have caffeine again some day, but the wee one is very sensitive to it in the breast milk, so for now, it's decaf. Somehow, it's still comforting and helpful.) For a long time, doing just that was enough to help keep myself even tempered and prepared to face the battle within. I noticed myself yelling less at my children, even though the urge was still there. I was able to keep it together just enough to not yell for the moment. But as of late, I've needed more than that. For years I have asked God to help me be a better parent. With the recognition that God gave me these children, I would plead that I showed them who Jesus is, and be loving like Jesus. The problem is, I am  already loving. As a "feeler" by nature, loving my children was never the issue. As intense as the yelling can seem, I love my children even more fiercely and they can tell. I needed help. I needed a new prayer.
This is one the things that I will remember as God working in my life, without my knowledge, just to bless me. I think the Holy Spirit went to God on my behalf and spoke about my need for change. The reason I say this is because, I did not think of praying for the fruits of the Spirit on my own. It just came to me, and I am so thankful that it did.
I began to pray fervently for the fruits of the Spirit. Not just in general, "Lord, fill me with your Spirit." No, I prayed specifically for gentleness, kindness, patience and self-control. On the very first day of this prayer, I saw God working in me! (I don't know why I still get surprised when I see God doing work in me.) The yelling ceased almost completely. The exasperated eye roll and heavy sigh, a usually hourly (at least) occurrence was gone. The bad attitude that was my constant companion, was replaced with gentleness, kindness, patience and self-control. Instead of yelling, "What did I just say?" in answer to a question that was just asked, I would respond with, "I've already answered that question." There are many examples that I could give to demonstrate the turn-around, but suffice it to say that I was astonished and so thankful for the gift that was clearly given from God. I continued to pray throughout that day and the next. But over the next several days, it slipped my mind to pray specifically for those things. The results were not good, and that is why I call it a battle, a war.
On one side is myself, and the devil whispering to me, "you're a great mom. You're not as bad some parents are, that's for sure." Trying to convince me that asking God for help is not necessary and a waste of time. Isn't that just like the devil. He speaks to us where he knows we can easily falter. Since I want to be the best mom I can for these amazing children, he lies to me and tells me I am, when clearly, I need some work. On the other side, is God. He desires to fill me with His Spirit, and He has given me a way to have that. But I must first deny myself. I deny that I am a "good enough" mom and especially that I am a "great" mom. I deny that I can do this by myself, that it is in my nature to be awesome. Instead, I seek God's strength, perfected in me. I ask for His Spirit where I am weak.
My prayer alongside of this transformation is that it's not too late. My oldest child is only four years old, maybe she won't remember much about the yelling. Maybe she will only see God working in me, and my dedication to asking for that help and remember it when she is tempted to treat her children unkindly. Maybe she and my boys will know that I must have struggled, but will praise Jesus' name that He is faithful to do good works in us, for those who love Him. I pray that my children will see Jesus more clearly, and will learn to earnestly seek Him in all their endeavors. I pray the my children learn from my behavior as a daughter of Christ, and not from behavior as a sinner.