Let’s talk about parenting. Because parents can be enormously damaging. Or enormously life-giving (but those can be more rare – just stating the facts, ma’am).
I think that the general purpose of parents has been greatly lost in recent years, so here’s my take on 2 secrets about parenting that will bring clarity to your overall perspective and hopefully remind you of the truth while giving you some hope!
On the parent’s part:
Parenting is about being parented. That’s it.
It’s not actually supposed to be about the child/ren much at all, especially as an end. It’s really about coming to terms with one’s own relationship with the Ultimate Father – God – and being found in a situation where one is constantly forced to face their own inadequacies, sinful selfishness, and humiliating lack of understanding and control. (Ask me how I know this.)
It’s about coming to a point of reliance on the great and merciful supply of daily wisdom and strength that God alone can give. It’s about surrendering pride and appearances and being willing to endure pain and possible rejection for another’s highest good.
On the child’s part:
Parenting is really about being stewarded, discipled, and trained toward an understanding and belief in this same Ultimate Father as their true parent – because any sort of replacement of the human parent for reliance on their Father God is going to be a letdown.
Human parents are going to disappoint their children, fail them, and hurt them – probably often, hopefully mostly unintentionally.
(If you are feeling reactive to that last statement, check your pride – those of us who are being honest with ourselves are nodding in rueful agreement.)
In spite of their inherent imperfection, the parent’s true role is to provide loving care and physical, mental, and emotional nourishment in such a way that the child has no impediment to seeing their heavenly Father’s love and care reflected by the parent.
By doing so, parents are creating the opportunity for children to begin their own relationship with him, with the hope that they love Him far more than they love their parents.
This is the ultimate goal of parenting.
(And yes, teaching them to say please, brush their teeth, and wear deodorant is also helpful – but not the ultimate goal.)
Why we fail is because we keep forgetting who we are and our true role: stewards, managers, and tutors serving an all-powerful and all-knowing King. We are in charge of raising HIS children with their eternal souls to become valuable, purposeful and reverent royal citizens in the King’s eternal Kingdom – not ours. And each person who parents another will be held accountable for our stewardship to the Father-King.
We were created to find our deepest joy and richest purpose in our Ultimate Father, not in flawed human parents.
And that’s why so many well-intentioned, loving parents get it wrong.
Because it’s not about us or our children – it’s about our King. If that clarity of focus is lost – no matter how loving or “religious” or protecting – that parent has become an impediment to the child’s greatest good.
The overwhelming love and protection we feel for our children is only a microbial drop compared to the deep sea of love our Father has for us – allowing us to get a glimpse of his heart and love, enabling us to persevere in our work of parenting while rejoicing and comforted in our own relationship with him.
And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children...
- Deuteronomy 6:6-7a
Wear Your Crown, Carry Your Sword. – Maria Miller
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Dinner was steaming on the table. Anger was shimmering in the air.
It had been a long, hard day, and the afternoon had dissolved into an evening mashup of bickering, belligerent selfishness, snotty remarks, and defiant disobedience.
My husband wasn’t even home yet, since it was another long work day, and the eight kids and I were eating later than I had hoped. A sense of helpless discouragement over my inability to keep on time stabbed me mercilessly, even as the seething anger at my kids rose like an acidic heartburn.
“Everyone, sit down and be quiet!” I snapped, trying to quell the unending verbal antagonization.
As the kids settled into a sullen silence, with one last glare at siblings before closing their eyes for the blessing on the food, the ugliness of the hypocrisy was not lost on me.
How could we pray and ask God to bless our meal, our time together, when we were holding so much anger, hurt, and offense?
Unwilling and unable to pretend to God or my kids that everything was fine and carry on as usual, I declared:
“OK. We all need to apologize to God, and to each other for all the things we’ve done and said today.
We’ll each go around and pray, asking Godto forgive us, and then we’ll ask the people we’ve wronged to forgive us.
I’ll go first.”
And I prayed out loud, telling God I was sorry for my impatience, my anger, my harsh words and my quickness to react when I needed to be calm. I asked Him to forgive me.
I then turned to the children I had been sharp and angry with, and asked them to forgive me as well.
Startled at the departure from our usual method of praying before a meal, my kids hesitatingly opened their eyes, looked into mine, and each told me they forgave me.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now, it’s your turn,” and pointing at the child sitting next to me, I indicated they needed to start talking.
And the amazing thing is… they did.
With the exception of the three-year-old, all seven older children first quietly prayed aloud, asking God to forgive them, and then spoke to the siblings they had offended, asking forgiveness for specific things they had said and done. Several of them apologized to me for various moments of “selective deafness” or snarky back talk.
All of them knew how they had wronged each other. All of them knew when it was they had done or said something hurtful.
Granted, we did have a few bumpy moments… One kid was suddenly struck with severe amnesia about the entire day, especially pertaining to their own behavior (too bad there were too many witnesses.) Eventually the memory was fully restored in an apparent miracle, with an acceptable apology stated at last.
There was also the child who, whenever someone else paused in their apology, would helpfully pipe up with a reminder of another item they should be sorry for as well.
But in spite of these little snags, by the time we had circled around to the last child, the tension and anger in the room had totally gone. Some kids had wept while apologizing, and the sincerely uttered “I’m sorry for…” statements had been accepted without hesitation by all the others. Often, when seeing the contrition in the one apologizing, the offended siblings would spontaneously jump up to rush around the table to give a comforting hug.
When I finally prayed to ask the blessing on the food, there was true peace and a softness in everyone’s face where there had been anger and hardness before. Genuine smiles and kindness lingered, even as we cleared the table and got ready for bed later.
It was an entirely changed atmosphere.
It scared me to think of how the evening might have turned out if I hadn’t said those three words: “I’ll go first.”
Sometimes, to bring back the softness, the repentance, the kindness, and the love – to repair relationships that have cracked or broken – it takes gritty humility to make that hard initial move and acknowledge our own wrongdoing FIRST.
Our kids and spouses and the people closest to us aren’t shocked by our imperfection. They relax in reassurance when we courageously apologize and admit our errors and wrongdoing, since it means that they, too, aren’t expected to be perfect.
They find comfort knowing there is humility and grace waiting to meet them when they share their own lackings and failings.
It takes a lot of strength and courage to lead in reconciliation and repentance. But the rewards are sweet and entirely worthwhile.
“I’ll go first.”
Will you?
God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God.
Matthew 5:9 (NLT)
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This may come as a shock to you, but I’m not a perfect mother.
I’m not even terribly patient – which seems counterintuitive for a homemaker with a slew of eight littles.
Wait for it: My children are also imperfect, as incredible as that may seem.
And sometimes after a “situation” erupts, the child who has done wrong and is clearly at fault often becomes hard.
It’s like a grim, defiant varnish falls over their face, mind, and heart, and they stand there, refusing to apologize or make things right. They are clearly miserable, but unwilling and apparently unable to make the move to the safer, higher ground of repentance and reconciliation.
Often the initial problem is actually overshadowed by their belligerent attitude while being corrected – to the point where they experience the interesting phenomenon of a receiving a consequence for their ongoing attitude rather than the initial wrongdoing.
It’s difficult for me to fight a natural justice-driven instinct: I want to remain hard and cold to the one at fault, as if I think any softness on my part will seem like an encouragement or a reward for the bad behavior or choices.
The worrier in me anxiously frets that the child will have some kind of permanently flawed character if I don’t react with appropriate, cool sternness. I fear that if I don’t address their error in an appropriately punitive way, they will become a shallow, entitled, willful adult who mocks at upright living. And I will be seen as a weak, capitulating parent unworthy of respect or attention, world without end, amen.
Yet most of the time, any hardness, harshness or strict reproach from me, even if totally justified, usually tends to bring outonly more hardness in my child.
In fact, it often escalates the situation, igniting more conflict rather than bringing any sort of resolution, much less the kind of heart-change I hope for.
One time I found myself again confronting a defiant, unrepentant and stone-faced child – but this time, by God’s grace, the usual Molotov cocktail of anger, bewilderment and fear in my own heart wasn’t there. Instead I felt an unexpected peacefulness, and a loving tenderness toward my child which startled me.
Looking down into the little stony face, I reached out and enveloped my child in a warm hug, gently rocking back and forth, stroking their hair. And the stiff little body suddenly melted into softness with relief. Arms were thrown around my neck and a little voice choked out very sincere apology while tears streamed down.
My undeserved gentleness and kindness brought on a sudden softening – a genuine repentance that I could never have forced or manipulated.
Can you relate to the child described above? I sure can.
When I’m angry, hurt, embarrassed, sorry but too ashamed and proud to admit it, sometimes I am my own worst enemy in being able to find the peace and comfort I long for and the reconciliation that brings it about. But an unexpected kindness brings swift softness and acknowledgement of my wrong.
What we really need in those moments after we screw up (and realize it) is grace: Someone to extend undeserved kindness and mercy and provide a place of safety in our brokenness, because we yearn for acceptance and reconnection in our repentance, and mourn because… We know we don’t deserve it.
In our hardness, defiance, rebellion, anger, pride, and shame, our God reaches out to us with loving arms, showing us stunning mercy and kindness. Especially when we have done nothing to deserve it.
Being responded to like that melts the hardness, coldness, and shameful fear away. And we find the courage and safety to know we will be held and loved and forgiven without harshness or shaming (even though we might still face the consequences of our actions).
The Apostle Paul says it this way: “Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin?”
Romans 2:4, NLT
The times I have experienced the most kindness and grace when I have done wrong often are the times I react with the greatest contrition and true repentance.
I have seen the same happen in my kids again and again.
Let’s ask God for the courage and ability to gift His loving kindness to our children and those around us, to show His glorious grace and stunning tenderness even when it seems undeserved and counter-intuitive.
And we’ll know that it’s a way to most closely resemble God Himself, and to represent His love to a broken world desperately in need of reconciliation with Him.
We speak for Christ when we plead, “Come back to God!” For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.
2 Corinthians 5:20-21, NLT
– Maria
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Your child is an eternal soul in a transient body.
Pardon my bluntness, but from what I understand, as a human, there is a 100% chance of death.
This may seem like a grim thought, but it really needs to be considered. Because how else will we decide how to live, how to spend the life we have been given, if we do not first understand that we only have it for a relatively brief span of time?
How else would we recognize the immense precious worth of the moments we have been given now to impact not only our children, but through them, their children and children’s children?
A common current way of thinking is to work to establish a ‘kingdom’ in one’s own lifetime, of things, money, and a reputation that will bring a sense of success or value while one is alive. But a far more reasonable and worthwhile mentality is that, while recognizing our own mortality, we deliberately aim to produce value and lasting impact for when we are no longer here.
The best way to do this is to invest in our children’s character and relationship with their Creator-King.
As immortal souls, they truly will be one lasting thing that we will have had the privilege of helping create while on earth. Businesses may close, wealth may be spent and pass to others, reputation and significance will fade. But to impact another person’s character – to help imprint them and shift them from one aspect into something different – that is to bear the weight of co-creation, in a way. It’s working to build up a Kingdom that is going to last through eternity – God’s Kingdom.
That God has seen fit to allow such a flawed and imperfect person as myself the exquisite honor of using my time and efforts to guide my eight young children’s minds and hearts on a path that leads towards Him is something truly incredible. How I choose to steward my time with them impacts their minds, hearts, and lives. I have the opportunity to shape these eight little people like no other human will.
So how am I using this season I am assigned to this work? How are you using the time you have?
Once we recognize our limited time given for this task, not only because we are all mortal, but because there is only a relatively short span when we have the undivided attention and respect of our children when they are young, parenting becomes (rightfully) something we should look at with seriousness and earnestness.
And probably a little something akin to a holy panic.
Because how in the world are we actually supposed to do this?!?
Exactly.
Again to be quite blunt: We’re not. Our job is to enable God to do His in the hearts and minds of our children, while allowing Him full authority over our own.
We are to be the under-gardeners. The under-shepherds. The teaching assistants, the mentors, the stewards, the butlers and housekeepers. None of it is truly ours to hold in the first place.
It all belongs to the Great Overseer of our souls, our Good Shepherd, our Teacher, Master Gardener, High King and Lord of all. We can find comfort knowing that our children are ultimately not our responsibility, but our Father’s.
He is the One who will plant the seeds – we are to help keep the soil soft and as weed-free as we can, watering and fertilizing, building fences and staying vigilant to keep marauders and pests out.
He is the One who the sheep listen to – we are to help guard the lambs and teach them to know His voice and follow Him quickly to find life-giving food, clear water, and nurturing care.
He is the Teacher – we are to help with the lessons and homework He gives, provide encouragement and pointers during hard tests, and cheer and congratulate when successful learning takes place.
And in that knowledge, we can find the galvanizing reality that we will answer to Him for how we have spent our time with the littles in our charge, whether they be our own children or anyone in need of guidance and discipleship that He has brought into our lives in the season we’re in now.
He has chosen each of us specifically for good works that He has planned out for us before time began (Ephesians 2:10). So, we can find the strength, hope, wisdom, love, and courage to walk in those works only as we daily seek direction and help from our Father.
There is a saying that God has no grandchildren. Our faith is ours, and our children must grow and develop their own faith-relationship with Him. Our job, then, is to enable and encourage and guide that relationship, not to try to be a representative or surrogate for them to God. It would perhaps be more accurate to say that God wants you to represent Him to your children!
We should disciple and teach our children while holding the idea that eventually they will become mature adults and followers of Christ – and as such, will become our brothers and sisters in God’s kingdom. This means we should behave toward them with the respect, kindness, and grace we would give others outside our family, and not grow careless or lazy in how we treat or train our children, even when they are young.
“Who then is adequate for such a task as this?” (2 Corinthians 2:16). As stunning and overwhelming as it may seem, if you are a parent or a caregiver of young children, God has chosen you to carry out this awesome task. And He promises to give you everything you need for it:
“And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”
(2 Corinthians 9:8, NIV)
“We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” (2 Corinthians 4:7, NLT, emphasis mine)
Our children don’t need us to be perfect. They already know we’re not. They just need us to keep shining out the Light through our broken places so that they can see the path toward our perfect God for themselves.
And the brighter the better.
We are not promised tomorrow. Let’s make the most of the time we have today.
Make a commitment to yourself and to God today to be the parent He has called you to be. Pray and commit yourself and your kids to Him entirely. Want extra accountability? I would love to hear your story! Send me a reply, and I will read it and pray for you. Parenting is a high and challenging calling, my friend.
How can you get these beautiful printable parenting reminder cards? [In both English and Spanish!] I’ll send them to you – free – in your email! Sign up below or in the toolbar on the right and I’ll get them to you ASAP!
If you were a swim coach, told that you had four weeks to teach a class of newbies how to survive being thrown in the deep end of the pool, what would you do?
You would design a strategic plan to teach those people the essential skills they would need to pass the test! You would review the plan daily, making sure you covered and carefully taught all that they needed to know!
All along, you would know you had a time limit to complete your task, so you wouldn’t waste class time on showing them the best way to spread out their towels, or how to match their swim cap to their bathing suit. You would get them in the pool and get cracking on the important things!
So in the arena of parenting, what is your deepest hoped-for outcome in parenting your kids?
What, in your mind, is equal to the deep end of the pool?
Being a good and kind person?
Is it getting (and keeping) a successful job?
Paying for their own college degree, car, or mortgage?
Marrying someone who loves them?
Finally learning how to do their own laundry and cooking?
What is it that you would consider to be your benchmark goal of “success” in parenting?
Does it have anything to do with knowing, loving, and pursuing God?
If you have any children, you have been given the calling of parenthood. This means that far beyond just ensuring they survive to adulthood, you are also called to be someone who speaks into their lives with intention and purpose, teaching them diligently how to follow God and obey His Word.
Sounds like “Preacher” is part of the job description that falls under “Parent”… doesn’t it?
We have been given the task of influencing, directing, wisely counseling, and deliberately discipling our children, whether we have one or twenty-one of the punks.
“Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it,” Scripture says (Proverbs 22:6, NLT).
“We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the LORD, about his power and his mighty wonders,” Psalm 78:4 (NLT) declares.
The protégé of the Apostle Paul, Timothy, was reminded: “You have been taught the holy Scriptures from childhood, and they have given you the wisdom to receive the salvation that comes by trusting in Christ Jesus,” (2 Timothy 3:15, NLT). That is the essential aim of parenting as a believer – that our children would whole-heartedly trust in Christ Jesus and receive His salvation. Beyond this, all else is secondary.
Do we live like this is true? Do we parent like our to-do list each day includes: “And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ThesewordsIam commanding youtodayare to beuponyour hearts. And you shall teach them diligently to your children and speak of them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.…”? (Deuteronomy 6:5-7)
Like the hypothetical swim coach, we have been given a time limit for achieving our goals for our children, whatever they may be. Our children will not be at home with us indefinitely.
So are we shaping our time with our littles in a way that demonstrates our commitment to our goal of teaching them diligently? Are we speaking about the commands and righteous living outlined in the Scriptures as passionately and frequently as the passage above directs?
We are called to be preachers of God’s word in our own homes, not only to our children but to our own hearts as well. “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength,” the Scripture states, as a directly personal command.
The truth of God’s Word is to be upon our own hearts – or else how can we presume to pour it out into the hearts of our children?
The way to gain our children’s respect in teaching them this love for God is if we are first modeling it ourselves in integrity and truth. This means daily intentional pursuit and committed, persistent choices to turn our hearts and thoughts to Him.
Let’s decide to deliberately plan out and actively teach what our children will need in order to effectively pursue and love God on their own – letting our parenting goals be shaped by the truth of His Word, not our world.
Let’s decide to seek Him fiercely and fervently for ourselves and our own often- feeble hearts. He gives strength to the weary, and increases the power of the weak (Isaiah 40:29), and He also generously gives wisdom to those who ask for it (James 1:5). Jesus Himself prayed for us, that we would have the same love for God that God had for Jesus (John 17:25), so we can have no fear of repeating such an audacious request to Him. (I do, often!)
Let’s choose today to be the intentional, faithful, and sincere preachers of the Word to our children that we have been called and chosen to be.
If you are a tad weary, a little worn, feeling stretched, depleted, and often discouraged by how often you are discouraged, I can absolutely relate.
Being the bedrock of a little person’s life is draining. Being the foundational piece of how they find comfort, sustenance, information, regulation, and rest is hard work.
Multiply that number by however many children you may care for, and the flat-out truth is that parenting is a significant, important, and often utterly exhausting enterprise.
The raising and care of little people can be bewildering in the immense variety of needs and areas of focus. You are one person and the work is so much.
So guess what? Admitting and accepting that you can’t do it all is the first step in walking straight into the peace our own Father gives.
Parenting is often more about being parented.
Each challenge, each struggle, each situation, each interaction, each new need you face in your day is an opportunity for you to become childlike yourself and press into the loving, huge arms that are held out to hold you and to nestle your head on the broad, strong shoulder you can fully rest on and trust in.
Psalm 68:19 exclaims, “Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms.” (NLT)
Another cherished verse from Scripture for me is Isaiah:
“He will feed his flock like a shepherd. He will carry the lambs in his arms, holding them close to his heart. He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young.”
Isaiah 40:11 (NLT)
One of the best things about this verse is that the mother sheep is not alone, guarding her young by herself out in the wild. She’s not trying to scavenge for her food and the food for her littles, defend everyone from predators, and be ever vigilant and all-knowing about every disease or difficulty that the flock will face.
She’s under the shepherd’s care right along with her lambs. She’s not the one ultimately responsible for their well-being and met needs: He is.
This gives me peace, like a sigh of relief. It’s not all on my shoulders. I can walk each day, doing the best I can with what I have been given, and know at the end of it I am not the final answer. The final answer comes from Someone infinitely more capable, wise, gracious, patient, kind-hearted, tender, and loving than I am.
My job is to manage and care for the little ones I have been given. As a mama sheep with my own littles, it’s as if I’m an under-shepherd.
My calling is to teach them to listen for and follow the voice of our Shepherd. I am to demonstrate complete trust in His faithfulness and ability to care for all my needs.
Children hear what you say but they are more likely to imitate what they see.
My children should see me run to the Shepherd joyfully and quickly for safety, comfort, and sustenance each and every day so that when they also require those things, they know what pattern to replicate in their own lives.
1 Peter 5:2 was written to pastors and overseers (i.e. “shepherds”) of groups of believers in the Early Church, but this also makes it applicable to a mama like me:
“Care for the flock that God has entrusted to you. Watch over it willingly, not grudgingly—not for what you will get out of it, but because you are eager to serve God.”
1 Peter 5:2 (NLT)
My littles are in my care. They have been “entrusted” to me, and I am charged to watch over them with a willing heart and an eagerness to please my Great Shepherd, to whom I will answer for my work.
My prayer for you today is that you will find solace and peace in knowing His tender, watchful care for you. I pray that you will know the deep joy that comes when your heart is soft and quick to turn and follow His guidance.
And I pray that you will walk courageously in the love He gives you each day, willing and eager to pour it out on the little ones you watch over.
I was gritty with frustration last night. None of my punks were listening to my directions to stop fighting and please clean up messes. My house looked as if a daycare, an elementary school, a grocery store (I had just gotten home from errands), and a laundromat had a head-on collision. There were no survivors.
Dinner wasn’t ready.
I was getting snarky attitudes from the older kids and whining tears from the littles while my middle kids ignored house rules and raced each other up and down the halls shrieking.
The burning anger was rising. The exasperation in me was roaring toward all-out irrational irritation and picking up sarcasm and sudden outbursts of yelling along the way.
Here’s a relatively frequent experience:
When the throbbing starts in my temples and my jaw starts aching a bit from the clenching, it’s a good sign that I’m a leetle angry and close to my frustration limit.
Too much more and the harsh words come much too quickly, the cupboard doors start getting shut a bit too hard, and the onions get chopped as if I were a teppanyaki chef with a personal vendetta against vegetables.
Then the kids start looking up at me with slightly wounded, pouty expressions, even as the whining ratchets up a notch and the bickering takes an uptick.
“When mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” (Who decided that brilliant axiom, anyway?) It doesn’t really seem fair that the household generally seems to find me the emotional thermostat, following my stress levels, hovering equally near to my cheery high moments or my discouraged lows.
And yet this is the case. We mamas wield a lot of power as we captain our own little crews, trying to avoid the shoals while being rocked by waves and splattered with storms. It’s hard to maintain perspective that my children are learning how to navigate life based on my example, even as I sometimes just try to survive the day.
This is a lot of influence to hold! And often it feels like something far beyond my capacity and understanding. And yet: Here at home with my children is the place where I have the opportunity to be the leader God made me.
I can exert my choice to impact my family environment in a way that will benefit everyone, or I can decide to follow my acidic angry mental churnings and end up with figurative heartburn. (And sometimes literal heartburn too, now that I think about it.)
So. Since parenting is a calling which God has entrusted to me, it helps when I stop, take that deep breath, and quickly ask Him to come in and join me in the moments of deep frustration, raw aggravation, and exhausted irritation.
I usually think/pray a line from an old song, “Holy Spirit, thou art welcome in this place,” and just the acknowledgement that I need something – no, Some ONE – greater and more able than myself brings a pause to the anger. It’s not that I need the old-fashioned English, it’s that I’m usually so desperate that I’m kicking into autopilot and often the old songs I heard as a child are the ones that rise first.
I can choose to invite Him to come into this moment, this home, this heart, where I feel so tired, so weak, so overcome with frustration and overwhelm and stress.
And He does. Every single time. Like a cool breeze on a hot, breathless day, I sense His peaceful presence, and my heart unwrinkles a bit. (He’s so kind to tired, frazzled mamas.)
My mouth, open before with sharp words, closes. My breathing (and heart rate) slow. I usually take a deep breath, then if I need it, a drink of water (it helps! Swallowing stimulates the vagus nerve and that aids relaxation and stress relief – fun fact).
Then the conviction kicks in and I feel ashamed of myself and my lack of kindness. So then the prayer of Brother Lawrence comes to mind: “How can I but fail unless You enable me to stand?”
Because my first way back from the other side of that chasm of burning anger and exasperation is firstly to make it right with the One I’ve truly wounded with my sin: God.
Asking His forgiveness is easy. Accepting it is humbling, because it means that once again I’ve proven my inability to cope well on my own. Pride gets another zinger and that’s never an enjoyable feeling. (Especially when I get to feel that zinger a lot. Parenting keeps me humble.)
Calling my kids (or maybe just the ones I’ve been angry and impatient or irritated towards, so… that often means almost all of them…) to me, I wait till they’re all quiet(ish) and listening, looking at me.
Then I apologize for my angry reactions and the things I did and said that were wrong. I ask them to forgive me.
During last night’s situation, even before I could finish my sentence including the words, “I’m so sorry for being angry,” one child was up and gently head-butting me for a loving hug and another was interrupting me with their own remorseful apology. All of them said they forgave me. All of them meant it.
The ones who had done things I had been frustrated at (and suddenly much of it seemed petty and just childish, not worth the amount of angst I had poured into my reaction) apologized sincerely, simply, sweetly.
The tension in the air deflated like a leaky balloon, and a soft tenderness filled the space between my children and me. I was again startled and almost speechless at the speed and wholehearted grace my children give me with no hesitation when I express regret or sorrow over the things I have done wrong.
The relief on their faces that I had initiated in guiding us all back to place of peace and connection again was so clear.
The feeling of reparation and restoration was wonderful.
Choosing the humility and softness of a genuine apology always makes a stunningly swift and stable bridge over what initially appeared a deep and burning gorge between us – as long as I don’t put off the reconnection from a sense of pride. I choose to maintain short accounts, and that builds their trust in me.
I can’t change them or make them sorry for their own part of the situation, but I can definitely choose to make it right on my part. And I often find that when I am vulnerable and courageous to admit my faults, they tend to reciprocate because they see I am no longer setting myself as their opponent.
My vulnerability creates a place of safety for them.
And by showing them my willingness to admit fault (it’s not like they are shocked that I’m not perfect) and my humility to ask their forgiveness, I am showing them the beauty and peace that lies in a life lived with short accounts. I am showing the courage and strength it needs to be the one making that first step back together. And by my quickness to accept and forgive their mistakes and wrongs, I am showing them the loving grace our God gives when we tell Him we’re sorry and return to make it right.
By God’s grace, they will grow to be quick bridge-builders themselves in the relationships they have later. Because that’s what this world needs more of.
May He fill you and me with the ongoing courage and humility to make peace with our children, remembering that as His children He makes peace with us.
(Do you find it difficult to apologize to your children?)
Talking back, back-talk – it should be some kind of clever palindrome. In reality it’s aggravating, exhausting, and bewildering behavior from one’s children as they verbally challenge whatever it was their parent (usually me, the mom) just stated, requested, or commanded.
I have discovered that if not dealt with decisively and quickly, talking back becomes a long, ingrained habit that only deepens and solidifies its hold in interactions between me and my children, leaving me angry, defensive and (if I’m being honest) somewhat resentful.
I am in the trenches of this draining aspect of parenting, as I often face it daily from at least one (or more!) of my eight children.
(Side note: If any of you know of an amazingly immediate and certain method to eradicate back-talk completely, please share it with the rest of us!)
Meanwhile, without taking this one on directly, my children seemingly become unable to obey without a major negotiation and a round-table discussion first, as if they were my equals.
Please note, I am not someone who endorses a “seen but not heard” approach to parenting, and I truly long to raise children who feel valued, respected, and cherished. I am delighted by my children showing confidence and independence in appropriate ways. What I am not in favor of is when my young, immature child feels entitled to question my direction, challenge my authority, or seek to amend my parenting in some way. It simply is not their place.
As a parent, I have been given authority over my children by God. Not only has He instituted the family unit as the ideal basis for raising and training children to adulthood, His Word makes it clear that the parents are unequivocally in charge – regardless of whether or not they are perfectly wise, even-tempered, or even right (gasp!).
So long as the parent is doing their best to humbly pursue God and lead their family in righteousness, the children are told to “Obey [their] parents in the Lord, for this is right.” (Ephesians 6:1)
By my children learning to grow up under my authority and cheerfully obey me and their dad, they are learning cheerful obedience and submission to God. This is one of the main purposes of parenting: discipling children to become disciples of God. By actively, intentionally training them to respond to parents in respectful obedience, regardless of their feelings on the subject, I am laying down a solid foundation for a healthy relationship of joyful obedience with their Eternal Father.
Remembering this helps me recognize that when my young children are challenging my authority, they’re actually rebelling against a governance that God put in place, and as such, this is a serious concern that warrants time and effort to correct.
Here’s What I Do to Take on Back-Talk:
1. First, I tackle the area of the problem which I have complete control over: ME.
I pray for God to show me what it is that needs to change in my own heart and mind.
Is there anything on my part that is adding to the problem when my children are challenging my authority and direction?
Am I reacting from fear or insecurity, not wanting to be seen as rigid and domineering? Am I coping poorly from tiredness or lack of energy from not getting enough sleep? Am I being negligent from laziness or unwillingness to cope with the effort and time it will take to address and retrain my children?
Is it something else?
I pray so that I can humbly ask for help and listen – the Holy Spirit knows exactly what my specific area of trouble is, I just need to be open and accepting of His diagnosis. (There may be a situation where I am not in error, but this, sadly, is not usually the case as I often discover there is something skewed with me before even starting to address the kids’ side of the issue.)
Then I repent and ask for strength, wisdom, and obedience to correct the issue: What do I need to shift in my thinking and speaking? Do I need to change my habits and go to bed earlier so I am better rested? What is it that is coming to my mind that I should put down (my phone) or pick up (the Bible, communication with my husband or a friend to hold me accountable)? And, sometimes the most convicting question: How do I speak to my husband and children? Am I demonstrating respect and using kind, courteous speech to them?
2. I plan ahead.
I decide before I am involved in a back-talk conflict what steps I will take to respond and correct. That way when it actually goes down I have a plan and am better able to stay calm and collected, rather than stressed and reactive.
Any ongoing challenges will be met with a consequence, moving of course from a gradual, small scale to larger, more significant consequences. The most important part is not the size of the consequence, but that there is one without me becoming angry or engaging as my child’s equal. I am demonstrating that the behavior they chose to exhibit is not permitted and will be met with negative feedback.
3. I have a family meeting for a general overview, and a one-on-one conversation with the main offender(s).
In the meeting, I remind the child(ren) of the family policy on back talk and why it’s not allowed in our home. I point out that God has placed parents over children until they are able to be responsible for themselves, and that talking back is challenging this authority. It is disrespectful to parents and it is disrespectful to God. Should they choose to pursue this way of communicating, there will be consequences.
I do, however, provide an opportunity for them to present their opinion or alternate idea in a respectful, honoring way: They may politely ask for a compromise. If the situation is appropriate and I am able, I consider their request. By recognizing that it is still ultimately my decision, I have more flexibility to include my children’s input without feeling like my authority is undermined. This way my children also feel heard and their opinions honored. And sometimes the things my kids suggest are quite brilliant!
For a quick overview:
1. I deal with my own heart and attitudes first, bringing them to God.
2. I make a plan when I am not emotionally compromised.
3. I communicate clearly and respectfully.
Finally, even if it goes without saying, I pray for my children (and me!) to have soft, teachable hearts. I firmly believe that parenting is really about being parented – as a child of God, I need to check to see that I am also demonstrating the humble, joyful obedience to my Father that I long to see in my children.
May your heart be encouraged and strengthened today as you do the good work of discipling your littles to be disciples of Christ. “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” (Galatians 6:9, NLT)
“Wow! Busy mama!” folks exclaim as we come into sight, before they even stop counting heads.
“How do you do it?”
I hear that question relatively often, from other moms or people who see my large family, with eight kids ranging in age from eleven to two, and think that it equates an unimaginable amount of work and stress only overcome by superhuman abilities.
While it would be fun to reveal I have some kind of super power or divulge a magical secret formula for how to manage life with many young children, the honest truth is I don’t.
I’m truly not even that patient. (Shocker, I know.)
Every day usually brings at least one moment (or many) where I tell God in exasperation that I just can’t do it, I don’t want to do it, and I have no idea how to keep going.
Then I keep going.
Beyond any sort of efficiency tips, parenting ideologies, logistics or systems I implement, deeper than the homeschool curriculums and methods I employ, deeper even than the energetic, strong personality I’ve been blessed with, these are the two main factors that form the foundation of how I do my life:
1. I turn to God.
2. I don’t quit.
While I am humbly honored by anyone wanting my thoughts on the actual practical ways I operate my home and manage the humans in it, I have to start with the baseline of these two practices. And the best part is, if I can do this, I absolutely believe anyone can do them as well!
I am fully human, very flawed, prone to frustration, exhaustion, insecurity, and a frantic need to control. The great news is I don’t have to rely on this part of me, because as a follower of Christ, my Bible tells me that I am loved by God, chosen, holy, and free from sin. I have been showered with kindness, wisdom, and understanding. I have been made a new creation, a masterpiece of God, made to do the good things He planned for me long ago. And I am brought near to God through the sacrifice of Christ. (Ephesians 1:4,7-8; 2:10, 13)
I am not a superhuman. But I trust and know a superbly supreme Super-Being who fills me each day with the ability to live in a way that is not based in my human nature (when I allow Him to).
I can only make it so far on my own strength and ability to control my temper and adjust my attitude. I am unable to be endlessly patient with whining and bickering. I lack the endurance to patiently teach and re-teach a stonewalling, snarky child how to find the greatest common factor, or the right way to fold clean laundry, or to speak respectfully to a younger sibling. I am quickly bewildered by how to get an obstinate toddler to stop spitting on the carpet, or help a frustrated child cope with ongoing eczema outbreaks.
Multiply all that by eight, add a cluttered, dusty house and three daily meals to prepare, and on my own steam I don’t have a chance.
So.
1. I turn to God.
My relationship with God is the dearest thing I possess. Thus I make it a priority to haul my often-tired self out of bed each morning and spend time reading His Word, talking to Him and (here’s the hard part) staying quiet enough to listen to Him. But He meets with me in those quiet morning moments, and His presence brings a solace, joy, and strength to my soul that nothing else gives.
I would be a fool to skip out on this essential, life-giving interaction, because this is the secret fuel that gives me the power to make it through each day.
I don’t stop eating physical food or drinking water during the day, or I would crash in exhausted lack of energy. In the same way, my time in the Bible and in prayer and meditation is the food that feeds my heart and gets my mindset on track for each situation I may encounter.
Whether it’s ten precious minutes or a delightful hour or more, time with my Father fills me up to carry on my current work of being a mama, wifey, and Household Executive of a family of ten needy, wonderful, imperfect people.
Even just deliberately choosing to turn my thoughts toward Him throughout my day, whispering a prayer in my heart, and deciding to be thankful for something in the midst of the noisy mess has a way of refilling the joy and peace that only He can give.
2. I don’t quit.
My second “secret” is just to keep going. My God is faithful. I want to be like Him. He doesn’t quit on me – ever. So I know He’ll give me the ability and strength for each new day to put one foot in front of the other on this journey of mothering and homemaking.
And He’ll hold my heart and give me peace when I want to scream, smash a glass dish or two, burn the dinner, and fly away to an isolated Caribbean island for six months. I know because He has done it – and His peace is priceless and incomprehensible.
So basically, my second foundational aspect of how I do my life – not quitting – is also centered in God.
There you have it, the big secret of “how I do it”: God. He’s the “how”. He’s really the only “how” ever. Other things can be helpful, but for me He is the essential.
The Bible states that those who have Him have everything they need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). And God always keeps His promises. Especially to busy, easily overwhelmed mamas like me.
Parenting is often more about being parented. I say this because knowing who you are as a child of God and learning to be parented by Him will so deeply impact you that it will spill over into how your raise your children.
(A Letter to My Children)
My darlingest Doodledobs:
To care for a young child, or a younger person, or any person in need, really, is a bit like roaring in the dark. To choose to show love when you take the time, give the work, and enter in the cost of another’s weakness or helplessness by tending to their needs… well, that’s being a little like Jesus, right? It’s a way of declaring strongly: “This small thing has great import. This little one is significant. There is hope and greatness here that must be nurtured. I declare by my actions that this one has a purpose and a future that deserves my attentions and respect.” And that declaration goes out like a roar in the vast distance of a darkness where many believe they are unloved, untended, forgotten, abandoned, unwanted, and unclaimed as valueless.
This is why I think parenting is the work that most closely resembles what our Father God does, and therefore is possibly among the greatest acts one can ever choose to perform while on Earth. He too has “brought us forth” (James 1:18, 1 Peter 1:3, 23), claimed us, named us (Revelation 2:17, 3:12), and lovingly teaches and raises us to our calling as a nation of royal rulers and priests (Is. 61:6, 1 Peter 2:9). He delights in us (Zephaniah 3:17, Ps. 41:11, Deuteronomy 30:9), disciplines us (Hebrews 12:5-7), and cares only for our highest and greatest good – which is to be made holy and to know him fully (Hebrews 2:11, 12:14, 2 Timothy 2:21, 1 Corinthians 6:11).
When we raise up small, initially utterly dependent, largely helpless children to become sentient, purposeful, independent adults who are capable of elevating and increasing benefit to others in turn, we are Godlike. And so we should be, as His children – we should be resembling Him in the work that most closely reflects His main purpose for us.
I hope you never look at a frazzled, embarrassed, clearly worn parent holding a screaming toddler in the aisle of a grocery store with amusement, distaste, or contempt. I pray you do not judge the parent who seems merely complaining and exhausted, even as they do another load of stained and smelly laundry they did not wear, dig through the garage for needed athletic equipment which they personally have never used, or turn the house upside down to find a homework assignment which they have not lost.
Weary parents who work hard all day only to come home and throw together a special birthday dinner, celebrate a lost tooth, or mourn a scraped elbow with a kiss and a bandage do not acknowledge the truth of their actions: They are the heroes of our world, because they are acting like the most amazing Super-Being ever. They are reciprocating the love of their Father God, even if they don’t realize it, by enacting it out on fragile, faulty and fallen fellow humanity.
As such, they are worthy of tender honor and esteem. As you will be when you take on this enormous, impossible and deeply shattering challenge of parenting – whether it’s through raising children, being a mentor, or in whatever way God leads you to pour into the needy lives and hearts of others around you. (The Apostle John fathered churches! 1 John 1)
A frequent prayer of mine has been that God would mercifully mitigate my parenting with His own. I have asked Him many times to filter me to you so that He would block anything coming from me that would turn you away from Him or give you a wrong impression of His love and character. It is only through His great mercy and kindness that He has allowed me to be your mom, and it takes my breath away to think about it.
Parenting is often more about being parented. I say this because knowing who you are as a child of God and learning to be parented by Him will so deeply impact you that it will spill over into how your raise your children.
For example: Remembering how He patiently reminds me again and again about an area where I need to grow (like being quick to get angry!) helps me calm down and also see that I need to be willing to give you a more patient and loving reminder instead of making every single mess-up a major deal. His grace to me shows me the rightness of giving it to you.
Knowing who you are in your heavenly Father’s eyes and knowing how you are held close to His heart can only grow you and equip you in being able to see your own children properly, and loving them truly. There is no manual or how-to guide on parenting that is flawless or fitting for every child. Each person is so unique and fascinatingly varied! It would be impossible to write a guide that would apply perfectly in every situation.
And that is exactly why we need to be holding tightly to our own Father’s hand and listening carefully to His voice as we parent our own children – because He is the most wise, loving, perfect Parent who created our children and knows each of them intricately! Only by carefully walking each step with Him and humbly seeking His counsel and help for each situation, just like little children, can we hope to navigate through the uncertain waters and sometimes deep waves of parenting.
Parenting is often really about making disciples. We parents are quick to forget this – and it’s an easy thing to do! – because there is so much that seems to yell at us from the sidelines as we run this marathon (mountain trek?) of trying to raise kids well. Our family, friends, culture, and the world all want to give us helpful information on how to successfully keep our children alive, thriving, happy, and smart. There are many good things to learn from these sources. But unless we have an initial and primary focus on something, the way can become very confusing, cluttered, and overwhelmed very quickly. So who are you going to train your sight on as you raise your children?
If our focus is already on Jesus for ourselves, our choices that really truly matter in how we raise our kids become more clear, even from infancy – regardless of whether or not their spinach is organic or if we decide to forgo pacifiers or if we co-sleep. (For the record – I feel organic is nice but not an essential over just getting green veg down your throats; you all hated pacifiers and acted like I was trying to make you gag to death whenever I tried in desperation to give you one; and I was a sleepless, hysterical mess when I ever tried co-sleeping… I was too hyperaware and paranoid and never got a restful night, then turned into a raging emotional wreck during the days. But that was me.)
When we walk as disciples of Jesus, parenting becomes a long discipline of creating more disciples, even as we ourselves learn to follow Him.
I recently took a class on setting and achieving goals. We started by listing many big dreams we would love to reach one day, but then we were required to choose only one. From that dream we had to break down various things that must happen in order for us to reach it, and then from that short list we again were required to choose only one to focus on for a specific time frame. If raising children who are followers of Jesus is the big goal, then I think that likely the shorter list of ‘must-happen’ things would be topped by: “I must be a close follower of Jesus myself“. Then by pursuit of this, the way to the big dream of raising followers of Jesus will become clearer. (I didn’t say easier. You know I have always tried to be truthful to you.)
When Dad and I flew to visit our friends recently, we saw them lovingly, thoughtfully, and wisely interact with their daughters for the duration of our stay. I commented to my friend how impressed I was by her patience and calm parenting of her children, and her response was to thank me sincerely. But then she also reminded me that she was parenting in front of others and therefore it was the best version of herself as a mom coming out.
I thought about her comment for a long time, and I saw how it was true for me, too. If any other person is present who was not a member of our immediate family, even a child, my words were more measured and my tone more kind. I was more thoughtful and patient, less quick to become exasperated, and more inclined to use humor. I smiled more. I used my phone less. I listened more carefully.
It became very startling to recognize that I obviously had great self-control and a large capacity for excellent parenting… when I knew someone else was watching. So where was that control and kindness when no one else was present? Wasn’t it a tragedy in some ways to only give you children the best of me when others were around?
And here was the kicker: As a child of God, with the Holy Spirit living in me, the irony of it all was that there WAS Someone there all the time! The greatest, most important, significant and impressive Someone in the world! If I could see a physical manifestation of Him, I would likely parent better than if all the honored dignitaries, world leaders, and acclaimed celebrities were there packed in our kitchen carefully watching me in my interactions with you. And yet I somehow struggle daily to hold that fact in my mind and live like it is true.
Part of a common phrase came to mind, and I amended it to suit my thoughts: Dance like no one’s watching, parent like Someone is. Now I often ask that my Father reminds me that He is present, that He is worthy of my best behavior toward you, and that you are only in my temporary stewardship for a short season of life.
How I pray that I will keep remembering that you ultimately belong to Him, and you deserve the best version of me, too. I truly desire that you will see me grow deeply in practicing His presence in this area.
Being your mom is probably the greatest privilege of my life. Also probably one of the greatest challenges, the greatest struggles, and the greatest joys I will ever have. Parenting you all has been in turns exhilarating, infuriating, bewildering, and always, always humbling. I have been made increasingly aware of my own failings, limitations, weaknesses, and the areas I need to grow in. And I am deeply sorry for any wrongs I have done to you, the many times I was too harsh, so quickly angry. Please forgive me for the times I did not make time for you, did not listen well, and did not reflect Jesus to you, in spite of my best hopes and intentions.
Thank you for your deep and tender love to me, wholehearted and unreserved, your quickness to forgive, your openness to my instruction. You each have been among the greatest, most precious gifts of my life, and I love you so dearly.
May the life I live being your mom be a pleasing offering, bringing the best I am each day, and may our Father be so precious to all of us that we live our lives always delighted by His nearness.
