I sit. Desiring to help. All I get in return is grief.

Great grief that is heaped on a woman's soul as she watches her son verbally flip her off.  It's worse than when he was 10 and actually flipped me off.  He thought my back was turned.  Oh he ran from me for his life fearing death was eminent. What came was the loss of everything he had in his room including blankets.  Every privileged, every perk of being a kid, GONE! I would have thought lessons over the years would train the disrespect out of him. It's almost as if as he grows, it's worse.

NOW, the verbal disrespect is gut-wrenchingly painful.Often there are curse words. I feel helpless.

I picture God. I do the same thing to him. So I am patient with my son. There are times though, like tonight, where I must weep.  He breaks my heart.  I know he was raised better. I know he knows better. I know he will be sorry.