there comes a time

It's no secret: my daughter and I struggled as she was growing up. Yelling (both of us). Screaming (both of us). Tears (ditto). From age three until oh, say 17 ... Katie and I loved each other but many days didn't much like each other.

I questioned my ability as a mother, despite my husband's support and encouragement to the contrary. I prayed for wisdom and grace. I came to the end of myself and trusted God to grow my child.

Now, the time has come. Katie has shed the tantrums, the willfulness, the screaming defiance. She has grown up. Well, almost. And maybe I have, too.

I think of good mothering like crock-pot cooking: you're not going to have a good pot roast if you wait until 5 p.m. to start. Start early, use the right ingredients, be patient.

And there will come a time ... maybe not a perfect time, but a new one of greater peace and friendship.