I was raised around some extremely conservative folks. Of the Christian variety. When it came to parenting, the models I witnessed were fairly simple. Respect and obedience were paramount. If a child didn't respect or obey (with a glad heart) then spankings ensued. I didn't analyze this model too closely as a child or young adult. I merely took it's truth for granted. In my own home, there was a lot more talking and a lot less spanking. Yet, almost mystically, my mother and father exuded authority. I remember honestly and earnestly wanting to be respectful and pleasing to them. In the security of my insulated bubble I felt certain that this was the way everyone was brought up. Yet, I knew that some of my friends seemed better behaved than I was, and they certainly got more spankings at home. I was never quite sure about these differences but at the same time I didn't care to analyze them too closely.
None of us remained children of course. We are all adults now. And it was with that perspective that I began to form some conclusions. It seemed that the best behaved among my childhood peers, did not actualize into well behaved adults. Some of my friends, held to the highest standards as children, in fact ended up becoming rather sneaky and dishonest. Yet, sometimes the system worked. There were those among us who actualized into humble and honest adults living life with integrity and purpose. So, I wondered, was it all just one big toss up? Was there a point to such hard parenting work if the results were all mixed? I wondered this for years, but it wasn't until I became a parent myself that these types of questions became important to me. I've read books about parenting. I've observed a lot of different family models. And I think (and I say this with much trembling) there are a very few things I know to be true.
The first true thing I know is that the heart attitude of my children is much more important than their behavior. If I can grab hold of their heart, their behavior will fall in line. And children's hearts are really so accessible. They don't have all the built in defenses that we adults do. This has been a tricky thing for me at times. I go through cycles where all I'm doing is addressing the fact that Samuel leaves his toys in the living room. It's exhausting for both of us. I tell him over and over and over. I spank. I punish, and still there are toys in the living room. Yet, if I can communicate to him, with much grace and often some consequences, that leaving his toys all over the house is selfish and inconsiderate toward me and everyone else in his world...if I can reach his heart, then something clicks. And I have a responsibility to grab my children's hearts while they're still accessible. I know that the home is a sacred place in so many ways and what they learn here will echo within them far into adulthood.
The second true thing I know is that perfect behavior should never be the indicator of holiness in my children. That is against the model I read in Scripture anyway. King David sinned up and down and all the way to Sunday and still God said he was a man after God's own heart. David's heart was one that was quick to repent. He listened to instruction. He sinned and suffered consequences, but he knew God. I never want to place the burden of perfect behavior on the shoulders of my children. I believe that's wrong. I ask that they obey. I show them consequences for disobedience. I want to raise future adults and that means they need to learn respect and manners and selflessness and other principles. However, I'm much more interested in their heart towards me and towards God than robotic responses and grade A behavior. I want to see honesty and quick repentance in my children. I want tender hearts toward others. I want servanthood and integrity.
The third thing I know to be true is that children are naturally legalistic. They don't understand that in between solid answers there are varied and multiple opinions and interpretations. They like it simple. If they were in politics they'd be Republicans. Ha! Total joke. I just HAD to throw that in. Seriously though, they like clear cut boundaries and definitions. No means no. Yes means yes. As much as my children are little power mongers, they really don't like power when they get it. They are happiest within a structured little world. Yet, I understand that it is a necessary phase, and also that this legalistic phase is one that they will grow out of. Their world will expand and they will grow up, and with each passing year they will understand that all they thought they understood before was a drop in the bucket in the expanse of the unknown. I didn't even begin to grow out of that legalistic phase until college. And honestly, it wasn't until I suffered Andy's death that I came to the end of myself and realized that there are sometimes simply no answers at all. There is mystery and grace and goodness, but there are not always answers.
This is probably why I'm distrustful of just about anyone, Christian or otherwise, who claims to have the answers sealed tight in a weather proof box. How perfectly appealing though. It reminds me of my childhood, a place I sometimes want to return to. How comforting it is to have every answer formed and labeled....but it's comforting because it's childish. I no longer want childish things. I want meat and not milk. I want to look at my faith and my parenting and be courageous enough to say, honestly, that I don't have it figured out and never will. I want to embrace the mystery, run with the truths I do know, and hold on to faith. Because another thing I know is that God is faithful and He delights in turning every paradigm on it's head. He delights in redeeming the un-redeemable.
The one last thing I know, even if I'm wrong about everything else, is that I love my children like there's no tomorrow.
So insightful!
ReplyDeleteYou have a wisdom beyond your years, my friend. I cannot tell you how excited I am at the prospect of finally living *somewhat* close by to you :)
ReplyDeleteI've often tried to describe what I think my parents did so right in raising us. They were far from perfect, and had a troubled marriage to boot. They weren't always patient or kind. They were occasionally irrational, and as a teenager I thought, absurd. Some of their rules felt arbitrary - such as going to church three times a week when most normal fundamentalists only went twice (kidding, well, kind of).
ReplyDeleteStill, they were fantastic parents. We've all turned out reasonably well, are close to mom and dad and very close to each other. We love getting together for holidays, birthdays, and 'just because'. We're all fairly thoughtful, considerate individuals who are attempting to follow Christ.
I've wondered a lot recently, was it the fact that I felt like they really listened? And that I could ask "why" and they'd give an answer beyond "because I said so"?
We knew we were loved, deeply, no matter what. But it was more than that too. They were also THE authority, but not scary. All three of us respected them a great deal. Respected them so much that it kept us from a lot of danger, I think. I remember my brother once talking about how he decided not to do coke when it was offered because he just knew it would 'break mom's heart' if he ended up getting hooked. I was way too much of a goodie-goodie to even be around people offering the hard stuff. But I felt like that too. Even though I knew their love was unconditional, I never wanted to disappoint them.
You've hit the nail on the head, though, Susanna. That 'something' I've been looking for to describe just what it is that my parents did so right. They grabbed hold of our hearts from a very early age. We understood 'why' things were wrong because they took the time to explain how our actions impacted others and ourselves, and grieved God also. We didn't want to hurt others, or them. They taught, and lived, kindness and compassion, and we were allowed to make mistakes - though there were consequences.
I remember my mom saying to me once that she was going to extend grace to me, because God had extended grace to her - after I'd engaged in some particularly selfish high school antics.
That one stuck with me. And still does.
Grace.