My Personal Mountain

When choosing names for our sons it was always important to us that their meanings be significant. I named Aron, Aron, because I thought it was a strong name and because I liked the meaning. Aron is the Hebrew spelling of Aaron, and translates as, "light". Recently, I was looking at names and their meanings and discovered that Aron has another meaning. It also means, "mountain." I cannot help but see the irony in naming our son so appropriately. Apart from his light, almost white hair, he has proven to be thus far-- my own personal mountain.

Aron from his first breath has seemed uncomfortable in this world. As a newborn I knew right away that this boy was going to make his mark in this world by force. His first three years with us have reaffirmed this notion, and this notion has never been quite as evident as it was last night.

Richard and I took the boys to the mall. The plan was Rich would take the older boys to get a treat while I took Abe to look for shoes. As soon as Aron sensed his father and I wanted him to go in one direction, he immediately wanted to go in the opposite. Defying all logic, and reason, he insisted on giving up a treat in order to come with me. I honestly believe for no other purpose than to foil his parents' plans. So Richard and I set off in opposite directions. I with Aron and Abe in toe.

Aron made it to the furthest most part of the mall really well. Running around gibbering, and playing with his brother. Then IT happened. The one thing I have feared in 6 plus years of parenting, happened. The mother of all temper tantrums, in which I was completely unable to reason with him or physically win. In public, in full view of all prying eyes, my parenting skills laid raw for the world to see.

It started in Bass Pro Shop, in the very back. Complete anarchy. Screaming that would make glass shatter, (in fact I thought for a split second the huge fish tank would). I tried to talk to him, but his eyes just shut, face red, wet, head thrown back, and then his entire body on the floor. I then tried, the mommy is leaving with or with out you technique. He called my bluff. It was now clear I had met my match, and any help was at the other end of the mall; completely oblivious of my plight. I had to do this. I had to regain control, had to not lose my other toddler, and get us safely to the car.

I made it to the door of the store, with Aron screaming at me the entire way to, "Stop!" Then, overcome with emotion, he slipped and fell. Abe by this time is squirming and wanting out of my arms. I can only imagine how desperate I must have looked, but I tried to calm my face and retrieve my fallen child. By the time I had gotten to him, he was in a stranger's arms. A tall, business man had picked up my son and looked as though he wanted to help me, but as though he honestly feared the now possessed child I had come to claim as my very own.

I thought my only way of gaining any ground now, was to just walk. To make sure he was in a safe distance behind me, but to just keep going. This worked for a while, then he figured me out and stopped dead in his tracks. He has never stopped screaming at this point. The same repetitive screams that would make onlookers believe he was mentally challenged. I had no choice but to pick him up with brute force. Now carrying both he and Abe in my arms, I trudged onward....Then he threw himself to the ground in one smooth acrobatic move. Thump. he hit hard. I grabbed his hand and began to pull him forward. We gained some ground until the ramp.

He somehow reached out and got hold of the hand rails along the ramp. Yanked himself free of myself and wrapped his arms and legs around the rail. Hanging like a rabid monkey from the rail, he continued to scream. I saw people's disbelief, I saw their judgements of me as a mother flicker across their faces, but I had more to worry about. Is this really who my son is? Could he possibly have this fire within him, and if so what does this mean for his future? I could feel the tears welling up, but I pushed them back. He looked pathetic, he needed me. I went to him and forced his hand from the rail one finger at a time. I got a firm hold of him and hoisted him up into my right arm. Struggling and fighting the entire time to his father, and then screaming the entire way home in the car, my Aron was exhausted.

At home when I went to get him out of his car seat. I heard a faint sound from him. Could it possibly be?? Was he really aware of what he had done, enough to feel shame? Then again, head bowed, eyes down, I heard him say it...there was no mistaking it this time. "Sorry mommy!" My heart broke in two, and all anger dissolved.

That night I tucked him in and prepared to leave as I do every night. For this is my child that has never allowed me to rock him, never allowed me to lay with him, and pushes away from hugs. With heavy eyes shut he said, "No leave me mommy, lay right there!" Now the tears were flowing freely. He slipped his little hand under my neck and pulled me closer. I laid next to my baby, with my head on his tiny heart and listened to the rapid beats slow steadily. He was asleep now. Finally at peace. His face relaxed.

As I laid there and looked at him I could not help but praise God for my mountain. My greatest challenge in life thus far. How much this mountain has taught me..He lays my own flaws open for me to see. How often have I treated my Heavenly Father the way my Aron had just treated me. How often I have disobeyed, and thought my way is better? How often do I feel shame in the presence of my God because of my own actions? Now my son has offered me the opportunity to feel a fraction of the pain my Father in heaven must feel when I behave contrary to His word.

So today I am thankful for the mountain I climb with Aron Elijah. The way is steep, long, and the path is narrow, but I cling to the belief that at the summit of this mountain the view will be glorious.