Amanda Erickson is passionate about helping moms thrive in their motherhood and build a family that flourishes. Amanda’s journey is one of transformation—being captivated by the perfect love of Jesus while navigating postpartum anxiety and anger amid the challenges of early motherhood. Now she helps families find peace in the middle of chaos, have purpose in their parenting, and make discipleship the goal of discipline. Her story and insights are sure to inspire and encourage you today. It’s a joy to welcome Amanda to the farm’s table today…
Guest Post by Amanda Erickson
Whether by a stroke of luck or incessant prevention on our part, somehow my husband and I managed to make it through the toddler and preschool years without any coloring on the walls or furniture.
Naturally, we thought we were in the clear, and for a few years crayons, markers, and pencils stayed neatly in their arts and crafts spot on the shelf, easily accessible to busy, creative, little hands.
That all changed when our youngest was in first grade.
Yes, you read that correctly, and to be sure, we were as surprised as you may be. Because we’d kept all writing utensils out of reach when our children were small, we’d never had an actual conversation about keeping art on paper, not the walls.
By the time Elijah was in first grade, it had completely escaped us that maybe we should have a chat about our expectations for artistic expression.
One night just before bedtime I was sitting on the boys’ bedroom floor talking with Elijah while he got into his pajamas. We were following our normal bedtime routine: lights low, soft voices, steady movement toward being ready to snuggle and read before lights out. As we talked, Elijah pointed at the bottom drawer of the boys’ dresser. “Mommy, look! It’s a smiley face!” he said with so much pride and excitement, watching me closely to see my reaction.
“My response would reveal to my son which was more important, him or the family heirloom.“
In a split second I felt the gentle nudging of the Holy Spirit in my heart. See, Elijah hadn’t drawn on the cheap plastic shelves in their closet or the easily replaceable furniture elsewhere in their room. No, he had etched a tiny smiley face on a sturdy, well-made chest of drawers that’s been in the family for generations. That was his chosen canvas.
If this had happened earlier in our parenting, I would almost surely have lost it. And if not lost it completely, I know I would have reacted very sternly by “laying down the law.” But this was many years into purposefully pursuing peace and gentleness with our children.
I instinctively knew I had a choice in how I reacted, and the stakes were high: My response would reveal to my son which was more important, him or the family heirloom.
Of course my child is more valuable than treasured furniture that had been passed down to me. And yet standing there in the heat of the moment looking at this well-loved antique that had just been damaged, it would have been easy to send an unintended message that the antique dresser was more important than my child.
“If we’re going to be able to face such situations with supernatural peace, we must have a foundational understanding of why children are so valuable. They are so treasured and loved by God because they are made in His image. “
If we’re going to be able to face such situations with supernatural peace, we must have a foundational understanding of why children are so valuable.
They are so treasured and loved by God because they are made in His image.
When our artistically inclined son took his creativity and artistic prowess to that chest of drawers, recognizing his inherent worth and dignity helped me keep perspective so that I could respond with grace and kindness.
I took a breath and gave him a soft smile. “Thank you for showing me your art, Elijah. Your art is so important to me. I’m surprised you drew on the drawer, though. I’m curious about that.”
He looked at me, confused. “Oh, that’s because I didn’t have any paper in here,” he said, as if he was stating the obvious.
Of course.
While not the most mature or informed decision, I had to admit that coming up with an alternative canvas was not entirely unreasonable.
“I see. You know what, your art is important to me; it’s why we have so many pictures hung up and saved. You decided it was time to draw, but you didn’t have any paper—that makes sense! I don’t think we can hang this up, though, because it’s not on paper. Hmmm!”
I could tell that I had his attention and that he was following every word I said.
I shifted my tone from curious to slightly more serious, trying to shy away from being harsh or shaming.
“You know, these drawers are special too. Did you know they belonged to my grandma and grandpa?” Elijah’s eyes got big, a new connection and understanding dawning. He shook his head and looked at his smiley face.
“Here’s the thing, bud,” I said, a hand on his shoulder. “You know your art is special to me. But these drawers are special to me too. And they were not meant to be special together. Where does your art belong?”
Elijah’s exuberant pride had turned to quiet introspection (or at least whatever a seven-year-old can muster late in the day when he’s less than an hour from being asleep). He looked at me and then at the drawer. “Paper,” he said quietly.
“You’re right. And now that I know you know this, that’s where I expect it to stay. If you want to practice carving or etching on wood, we can find a way for you to do that with wood that hasn’t been made into furniture. For now, we’re going to keep pencils on the art shelf, not in your room. And I’ll work on making sure there’s paper there, too, so that whenever you want to draw, you have everything you need.”
I can honestly say that my family heirloom is even more precious to me now.
Not because I wanted a tiny smiley face in the bottom right corner of the bottom drawer, but because I was able to navigate that conflict with Elijah with peace and purpose, gentleness and grace.
It’s now a beautiful reminder of how far we’ve come.
Amanda Erickson is wholly and completely captivated by Jesus. A recovering perfectionist, she has found peace and purpose in the perfect love of Jesus. She’s passionate about helping moms be less stressed and angry so they can flourish in their motherhood. A former foster mom and pastor’s wife, Amanda is an artist with a free spirit and can often be found watercolor painting, sipping coffee on her front porch swing, making up silly songs for her kids and dogs, and hiking the woods near her home in East Texas.
In The Flourishing Family, Dr. David and Amanda Erickson offer a transformative parenting perspective deeply rooted in Scripture and backed by modern neuroscience. This book equips Christian parents to cultivate peace, gentleness, and confidence, aligning their parenting approach with the teachings of Jesus. By showing parents how to lead with compassionate discipline and honor the image of God in their children, The Flourishing Family helps change families and homes from the inside out.
{ Our humble thanks to Tyndale Refresh for their partnership in today’s devotional.}