One of our children is a firecracker.

Ever since she was very little, she’s been prone to explode. Her fits would last for hours. It wouldn’t matter if it was Christmas, or we were at a restaurant, at the grandparents’ house, or having a family photo, she could turn on screaming like a broken facet and spew unrelentingly.

She suffers — we all suffer — from her obstinate defiance disorder. Often it feels like walking in a combat zone.

Every few months, my husband and I pick one another up from what feels like a lost battle.

I look fearfully into our daughter’s future and see her life in chaos. But after the embers have died out, my husband reminds me of the goodness in her stubborn determination.

It’s true.

Together, we list her amazing accomplishments: the things she pushed herself to learn on her own simply because she wanted to, her strong leadership skills, her unwavering convictions, her confidence.

When we list our thank-you’s, her hard-heartedness begins to look like a blessing. She makes us pray. She turns our helpless hands to God time and again.

Our daughter doesn’t know it, but her fires grow our faith. I hope that one day she will let God use her fiery spirit for Him.