It was bound to happen. I mean, they’re pretty much going to be in each other’s company for four days (you could say in each other’s face). I had warned them, warned them again, and then even gave them practical steps to avoid getting in trouble (i.e., move away from the sibling, move away from the chair, and move away from the stuffed animal). In the end, there was shouting, whining, tattle-tailing, and even physical confrontation.
I have to admit, I haven’t read many parenting books. I tried reading a few when the oldest was on her way, but it was all theory-based and detached. It was all future-based and hypothetical. I knew my world was going to be turned upside-down. I didn’t need to read 200 pages telling me that my world was going to be turned upside-down. I always meant to read more parenting books after the kids came, but really, who has time, especially if you’re reading 10-15 other books for seminary at that period of time. So I don’t know what parenting experts think about what I’m going to share next.
I don’t necessarily like to scare my children, but when they disobey me and discipline is-a-coming, I want them to know it’s-a-coming – I want there to be no shadow of doubt in their eyes that they just tested fate and lost. I don’t mind being a little dramatic, I don’t mind raising my voice, and I certainly think I’m doing something wrong if there aren’t a few tears shed on their part. It’s a delicate balancing act. I don’t want my children to fear me, but I want them to understand that there are consequences for their disobedience. I want them to know that grace is not the only godly attribute afforded parents. Discipline and correction also come from God.
So there they were, both startled when I raised my voice to biblical proportions (I generally like to think of my “discipline voice” to be akin to Jesus’ voice when cleansing the temple or calming the sea; translation – godly gravitas). I then proceeded to physically pick them up, transport them into their rooms, and closed their doors. They were already crying by then, but the door closing elevated their weeping toward wailing. I wished my children didn’t need disciplining, but I didn’t feel the slightest regret in doing so. They had been warned. They choose to disobey what they knew to be wrong. And now they had to pay the piper.
In both immediate terms and in the long run, my children should be the better for such intentional parenting and understanding the cause-effect nature of rebellion in the face of their father. While both were extremely dissatisfied with the results, there really was nothing they could do about it. I am their father. They answer to me. Step out of line and it’s my responsibility. I take that responsibility very seriously. They understand and accept it (even if they don’t like it – what, are they going to try a coup-de-ta?).
It’s universally accepted that involved parenting increases the chances of “normal” and “stable” children and eventually “normal” and “stable” adults. I believe one of the chief reasons for this is because children with present, active, and involved parents are accountable to authority figures in their lives. I have, from time to time, thought about Jesus’ statement in Matthew 18:3-4, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” The first impression I have of this passage is that Jesus is imploring us to have the simplistic trust that children can have in all matters, believing and trusting those above them. But lately I’ve also had this reoccurring thought and it’s really been a conviction of my own heart. I wonder if Jesus was exploring how children are also accountable to others above them here on earth and they receive instruction, discipline, and guidance better than the average adult accepts them.
If you’re an adult, here the question: “Who do you answer to?” If you’re a Christian, I know the first answer is “God, and Jesus”. Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m more concerned with both accountability and rebuke on a day-to-day basis. So I’ll rephrase the question differently: “When you are wrong, or living in ungodly manners, who has permission in your life to call you on it?” Who are you accountable to? Now, from a vocational angle, I am accountable to many people. But who has license to rebuke me when they notice I am not living in a godly manner, when my marriage is not exhibiting godly characteristics, when my parenting is missing the mark? Who has that right? I’m floored by the fact that I really have no one in my life that has that task, responsibility, or privilege. Do you?
With that in mind, I must also make one side remark. My wife is my best friend, but they generally make lousy accountability partners. For one thing, it limits the relationships you have where you open yourself up to scrutiny and answerability. But the real reason is that, at least for me, I don’t take instruction or criticism well from my wife. Luckily, I’m the only living person with this problem, so you’re probably better off than me.
Who has free reign in your life to “parent” you when you are acting like a “child”? It’s funny, but I’ve notice a trait in many adults, which is the only person who can inform them when they’re wrong is themselves. We’ve replaced accountability to another with self-actualization. We’re only wrong when we ourselves recognize we’re wrong. And we’ll only change once we’ve told ourselves we aren’t living right. And no one else gets to call us on it.
Imagine if we trusted our children to mature and grow primarily through “self-actualization, empowerment, and ownership”. I must admit, those terms were pretty significant in my youth ministry philosophy, because most teens do not respond to any devotion or message until they personalize and internalize it. But that doesn’t necessarily make it right. In fact, aren’t the teenage years some of the most boundary-pushing, rebellious years of someone’s life?
Are we as adults teachable? A part of being teachable is receiving instruction and constructive criticism. In all honesty, I need to develop intentional relationships where I give authority to others to speak up when they recognize sin and error in my life. I cannot pin my spiritual growth and development on my own self-actualization. At this very moment, I wonder if much of my spiritual immaturity is a reflection on how little license I’ve given others to join me on this journey or sanctification. What do you think?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment