When the Real “Sister Jacq” Wants to Emerge

A Moment of Honest Parenting and the War Within

Ever had an interaction with your child that made you want to explode? I mean really explode—the kind where you can feel your pulse in your ears, and your mouth is ready to deliver a monologue that may scar more than it solves?

I had one of those moments in the early days of living the Christian life.

I sat in silence, head bowed low, heart raging high. I knew what had been said. I knew what I had heard. And I could feel the old me—“Sister Jacq,” the one who doesn’t take nonsense—rising to the surface like lava ready to blow. My daughter looked at me and, in that tender, childlike way, asked, “Mom, what’s going on?”

And so, I decided to walk it out for her.

I said, “Well, I just heard something from you that made me stop cold. And right now, I’m trying to figure out my next move. Do I let you meet the fallen version of me, the REAL sister Jacq—the one who throws words like knives and has no patience for disrespect? Or do I resist that urge and choose a better way?”

I continued, “You see, I don't want to let my flesh tempt me into sin. I know I don’t always do this well with your dad. I’ve raised my voice far more often than I care to admit, and sometimes I act like I’m trying to win a courtroom argument instead of love my husband. But with you, I don’t want to just react. You’re a child. You don’t know how to process sinful anger when it's coming at you like a storm. Even if I apologize later, those words would already be etched into your memory. You won’t hear the sorry—you’ll remember the hurt.”

I told her, “That’s why I’m quiet. That’s why I’m not looking at you. Not because I’m ignoring you, but because if I see your little face—especially if it's scared—it will make my heart melt. And right now, my heart doesn’t want to melt. It wants to erupt. But I know that peace is better. I know that self-control is fruit from the Spirit. And so, I’m sitting here, warring with myself. But this war must be won.”

When Love Looks Like Restraint

Parenting in anger is easy. It’s natural. It comes without effort. But parenting in love—that’s the battlefield. That’s the call.

All too often, we find ourselves swinging between two extremes: enslaved to our children’s desires or ready to end their existence (okay, not literally… but you know the feeling). But neither approach is right, and neither conveys the kind of love our children truly need.

There are hundreds of parenting books out there. They teach us how to be gentle, how to foster deep connection, how to raise emotionally intelligent kids, how to be their safe space, and how to be their best friend. And while some of that has value, Scripture cuts through all the noise with a much clearer charge:

“Train up a child in the way he should go…” (Proverbs 22:6)

“Discipline your children, and they will give you peace; they will bring you the delights you desire.” (Proverbs 29:17)

“Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:4)

The Bible doesn’t emphasize how to make them like us. It emphasizes how to lead them to fear and love the Lord. And from there, closeness and friendship may come—but they are not the goal. Obedience to God is the goal. And in that obedience, we learn how to love well.

The Challenge of Seeing Each Child

Loving our children is perhaps the most complex assignment we’re given as mothers. Because love isn’t one-size-fits-all. Every child is different. Each one requires something specific—discipline in one moment, tenderness in another, a hard conversation today, silent companionship tomorrow.

And when a woman has many children, she faces an even greater challenge. It can feel nearly impossible to meet every need with individualized attention and spiritual wisdom. So, naturally, we default into survival mode: routines, rhythms, group discipline, bulk encouragement. This helps the whole family keep moving forward, but it can unintentionally overlook the unique heart of each child.

Now, I admit, I only have one child. So I can’t pretend to understand the complexity of having many. But I do believe this is why Titus calls the Christian woman to be a keeper at home. Because parenting isn’t just about management—it’s about discipleship. And discipleship takes time.

Not perfection.
Not performance.
Just presence, patience, and prayer.

Final Thoughts

Sometimes the most powerful act of love is the one that no one sees. The choice to be quiet. The moment we lower our voice instead of raise it. The decision to explain instead of accuse. The silent prayer we whisper when our fists are clenched and our heart is pounding.

In those moments, when we’re tempted to erupt, let’s remember: our children are not the enemy. Our sin is. And our Savior is strong enough to help us master it.

May we be mothers who walk in the Spirit—even when our flesh wants to scream.

- Jacqueline, the Unimportant Homemaker