As a parent I feel like a driving force in my heart is "I just want to do the right thing." The trouble is that often, I don't know what the right thing is. I tear my hair out as I analyze each option (feeling as if their entire life hinged on this very moment), weigh it out in my mind, see problems with all options, either react out of frustration or become paralyzed with indecision, try something, decide that was definitely not right, and then despair of ever having civilized grown children. A bit over-dramatic?Allow me to insert here: what if I prayed first? My instinct is to figure it out on my own. God is gently lifting my eyes to Him- to help know what to do but also to trust Him when I have done the wrong thing or when the immediate result wasn't what I hoped. God, help me! So often I want the result and I forget that I am called to follow Him as I parent because He is my God, not because it produces the result I desire.
In Christian circles we often talk about how as children grow, their view of God is largely shaped by their parents- not just what their parents tell them about God but as we grow we generally feel (and it may be mostly subconscious) that God relates to us the way our parents related to us. As a parent, my initial feeling is- that is a lot of pressure. We are all sinners and, as an adult, I feel all people will surely spend the rest of their life discovering that God is not what they thought, so much more than they thought, and that He relates to them in a much better way than even the best parent on the planet. As I mull this over there are two things at play in my heart. First I think, Oh God, Let me have more of You and then they can see You for who You are- help me relate to them in loving and truthful ways. There is a real and good desire to love my kids well and to pray that the good things would translate to their relationship with Jesus. Ah, but then, there is something else at play. Something stemming from this good place but taking it somewhere else. My pride. It wants me to be God in their lives. To save them from all things, always have the right answer, to have them turn out gloriously amazing as a trophy on my shelf. This pride has so much more to do with me than my kids. Sometimes it's hard to see the pride through the good part of the desire and only He can drive a knife through the two, killing the sin and allowing the desire to live. As a parent, I'm finding I need to trust Him to be God in their lives.
One of our children is more of challenge than the others. Tantrums. Epic tantrums. Tantrums that make me want to throw a tantrum. It's happened less and less as they have grown a little older and as we have figured out how to keep the tantrum train from leaving the station in the first place: simple things like routine, getting enough sleep, not getting too hungry or thirsty. Recently we were traveling for the weekend and, inevitably, a tantrum was thrown. It's especially hard to deal with on the road and in front of our friends. I just want to do the right thing! (When others are watching, it's mostly for my reputation as a mother and less for the good of my child- ugh). So there we were, I had no idea what the right thing was. I'm getting punched and kicked and it makes me angry to be treated like that. I put the child in a room and shut the door. In the midst of it I felt something stir in my heart. Something Deep and Full and Present.
"When you are like this with Me, I can take it. You can kick me and punch me and scream at me. I can handle it."
Something breaks through in the depths. Tears. Freedom. I cannot lose His love.
I still don't know what to do. I don't feel like I can take it from my own child. I have limits, I anger quickly in these situations.
"I can take it from your child too. You can abide by your limits here. I can make up your lack."
This is deeply humbling for me. It kills my pride. He will show up in the holes of my child's life, even (especially?) in the very holes made by my sin or even just my limits as a created being. I don't need to be God for them. He is their God.
So I wait outside the door and pray. The child begins to tire. I go in and embrace them. It is a sweet moment of love and connection.
God, be their everything. Fill up the holes in their lives. Give them soft hearts that allow You access to their deep places. Heal their wounds. Meet the needs of their hearts.
In Christian circles we often talk about how as children grow, their view of God is largely shaped by their parents- not just what their parents tell them about God but as we grow we generally feel (and it may be mostly subconscious) that God relates to us the way our parents related to us. As a parent, my initial feeling is- that is a lot of pressure. We are all sinners and, as an adult, I feel all people will surely spend the rest of their life discovering that God is not what they thought, so much more than they thought, and that He relates to them in a much better way than even the best parent on the planet. As I mull this over there are two things at play in my heart. First I think, Oh God, Let me have more of You and then they can see You for who You are- help me relate to them in loving and truthful ways. There is a real and good desire to love my kids well and to pray that the good things would translate to their relationship with Jesus. Ah, but then, there is something else at play. Something stemming from this good place but taking it somewhere else. My pride. It wants me to be God in their lives. To save them from all things, always have the right answer, to have them turn out gloriously amazing as a trophy on my shelf. This pride has so much more to do with me than my kids. Sometimes it's hard to see the pride through the good part of the desire and only He can drive a knife through the two, killing the sin and allowing the desire to live. As a parent, I'm finding I need to trust Him to be God in their lives.
One of our children is more of challenge than the others. Tantrums. Epic tantrums. Tantrums that make me want to throw a tantrum. It's happened less and less as they have grown a little older and as we have figured out how to keep the tantrum train from leaving the station in the first place: simple things like routine, getting enough sleep, not getting too hungry or thirsty. Recently we were traveling for the weekend and, inevitably, a tantrum was thrown. It's especially hard to deal with on the road and in front of our friends. I just want to do the right thing! (When others are watching, it's mostly for my reputation as a mother and less for the good of my child- ugh). So there we were, I had no idea what the right thing was. I'm getting punched and kicked and it makes me angry to be treated like that. I put the child in a room and shut the door. In the midst of it I felt something stir in my heart. Something Deep and Full and Present.
"When you are like this with Me, I can take it. You can kick me and punch me and scream at me. I can handle it."
Something breaks through in the depths. Tears. Freedom. I cannot lose His love.
I still don't know what to do. I don't feel like I can take it from my own child. I have limits, I anger quickly in these situations.
"I can take it from your child too. You can abide by your limits here. I can make up your lack."
This is deeply humbling for me. It kills my pride. He will show up in the holes of my child's life, even (especially?) in the very holes made by my sin or even just my limits as a created being. I don't need to be God for them. He is their God.
So I wait outside the door and pray. The child begins to tire. I go in and embrace them. It is a sweet moment of love and connection.
God, be their everything. Fill up the holes in their lives. Give them soft hearts that allow You access to their deep places. Heal their wounds. Meet the needs of their hearts.
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