I’m not a huge sports fan, so when I go watch one of the kids’ teams play, I spend much of the time watching the spectators – the moms and dads, grandparents, aunts and uncles. There are no casual bystanders. No, they’re active observers. Focused entirely on the game. It’s not enough to scream at the top of their lungs and to clap and whistle. Oh, no. They sit on the edges of their seats, or jump up, and when the soccer ball approaches their child, the parent kicks. Hard. Falling out of the chair. When a tackle is imminent, the parents twist and contort to help keep their child out of reach. Watching them, you can see how badly they want to help. To see them succeed. To be the best and the fastest and the smartest.
I think our Heavenly Father does the same thing. God isn’t sitting up on His throne, quietly, calmly watching. No, He’s on the edge of His seat, jumping to His feet, eager and excited and encouraging. He wants us to do well so badly He can’t hold still. When we need to jump, He jumps. When we need to duck, He ducks. And when it’s apparent that we’re out of our league, that our opponents are stronger and faster and more skilled – then He does for us what we can’t do for our kids. He comes off the bench and rises up inside us. Then He runs, sprints, kicks, dodges – and scores. Within us. For us and through us. And then I realize I've been an avid spectator all along, one of His biggest fans, unbelievably proud to be on His team.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
setting them up for success
I went to the bank to cash Christmas checks my kids got from their grandfather. The teller looked at me like I was crazy when I asked for each check to be broken down into certain, specific increments. Why complicate it that way? Because I wanted each child to have, readily available, the exact bills needed in order to tithe. They would do so anyway, but it would be much more complicated. Tim and I would be frantically trying to make change and come up with the necessary amounts ten minutes before church started. It would be chaos, so I decided to take things into my own hands and simplify the process.
Driving home, I was thinking about the ways in which we, as parents, try to equip our children for success. If we want our children to carry down their dirty laundry, we have to give them laundry baskets and a deadline. If we want our family to eat healthy, we have to have appropriate foods available, easy to get to, and already prepared. Sometimes I have to do similar things for myself. In order to make sure I will read and study the Bible, I have to put it in front of me. I moved a big soft chair into my office and spread out my lovely, shiny new concordance and my study Bibles. When they’re sitting on my shelf, I don’t remember to use them. But now, every time I walk into my office, I see before me a cozy, comfy spot that already has everything I need. All I have to do is sit down. I don’t do it often enough, but it’s all there for me when I am ready.
Just as we take care of our kids, God wants to take care of us, to give us every opportunity to succeed. He has already given us every single thing we need, as He’s done throughout time – He provided manna in the wilderness; He put a lamb in the bushes for Abraham to sacrifice; and He prepared a manger to receive a very special baby. And He instituted the dispensation of grace, knowing that we would never be able to meet all the requirements of the old laws – and declaring that we didn’t have to. Showing His wisdom, knowing our weaknesses, He took matters into His own hands. He stepped off His heavenly throne and came to us in the form of a tiny infant, then allowed those very same hands to be nailed to the cross. He rose again to show us nothing more is required. There is nothing else for us to do. It’s not about our ability to do the job. We can’t. But we don’t have to. He took the burden off of our shoulders and set everything
in place. Our part of the job is simple. All we have to do is say. “Thanks for your help, Daddy. I couldn’t do it without you.”
Driving home, I was thinking about the ways in which we, as parents, try to equip our children for success. If we want our children to carry down their dirty laundry, we have to give them laundry baskets and a deadline. If we want our family to eat healthy, we have to have appropriate foods available, easy to get to, and already prepared. Sometimes I have to do similar things for myself. In order to make sure I will read and study the Bible, I have to put it in front of me. I moved a big soft chair into my office and spread out my lovely, shiny new concordance and my study Bibles. When they’re sitting on my shelf, I don’t remember to use them. But now, every time I walk into my office, I see before me a cozy, comfy spot that already has everything I need. All I have to do is sit down. I don’t do it often enough, but it’s all there for me when I am ready.
Just as we take care of our kids, God wants to take care of us, to give us every opportunity to succeed. He has already given us every single thing we need, as He’s done throughout time – He provided manna in the wilderness; He put a lamb in the bushes for Abraham to sacrifice; and He prepared a manger to receive a very special baby. And He instituted the dispensation of grace, knowing that we would never be able to meet all the requirements of the old laws – and declaring that we didn’t have to. Showing His wisdom, knowing our weaknesses, He took matters into His own hands. He stepped off His heavenly throne and came to us in the form of a tiny infant, then allowed those very same hands to be nailed to the cross. He rose again to show us nothing more is required. There is nothing else for us to do. It’s not about our ability to do the job. We can’t. But we don’t have to. He took the burden off of our shoulders and set everything
in place. Our part of the job is simple. All we have to do is say. “Thanks for your help, Daddy. I couldn’t do it without you.”
Sibling rivalry
I have three children. My oldest, Katie, was the center of everyone’s world for two and a half years. The first child. The first grandchild. Who needs TV? We would sit in a circle around her and marvel at the brilliant things she said, laugh at the funny things she did, and give her pretty much whatever she wanted. Then, when she was nearly 3, her sister Anna was born, and it rocked her world. Suddenly I was busy with the baby, and didn’t have time to focus exclusively on her. Anna became our focus for a while, because she was so little and cute, and had such curly hair and little shiny yellow boots and a feisty personality. Eventually, just as both girls were getting self-sufficient, along came Bobby. The first boy. Silly and chubby and then diagnosed with food allergies, we ended up paying a lot more attention to him than to the girls.
As parents, we don’t do it on purpose, but it seems to happen more than we want it to. We take care of whoever needs us most at the moment. We don’t want your kids to feel left out, and we don’t love them any less than you did before. We still know exactly where they are and what they’re doing and we’re just as interested in them. But we spend more time with the baby, whose needs are urgent, because he is helpless without us.
This could explain why sometimes, as “mature” Christians, we feel like God has left us. Or, not “left”, exactly, but that He just isn’t paying us as much attention as he used to. The love He has for us is just as strong as ever, and although we know that, we’re struck by moments of jealousy. We watch someone new to the faith, and see how closely they’re walking with the Lord, and we feel left out. Maybe it’s because we’re no longer babies; we’re children, teens, adults, even – spiritually. We’ve become a little more self-sufficient. We know how to feed ourselves the Word. We know who to hang out with, and who will be a bad influence. We think we know what He would tell us to do in a given situation, so sometimes we don’t even ask. We may not even go to Him unless we’re in trouble. When we can no longer fix things on our own, or a situation becomes dangerous, He’s the first one we call. But other times, we forget to even ask.
Consequently, sibling rivalry may flare up, with resentment and envy creating a wedge between us and the “babies” in the family. I think sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are loved just as much as ever, and that the little ones look up to their older brothers and sisters for direction.
God told us to come to him as little children. I always thought that meant to come innocently, openly, without doubts to cloud our faith. But perhaps it also means this: we can’t delude ourselves into believing we don’t need Him. He’s still our source and our provider. He’s our Creator and He adores us and marvels over every single step we take, every new thing we discover, and all the stages of our growth. When we venture out into the big, scary world, He still wants to hold our hand in His large, comforting one. He is still our loving Father, and He’s never left. Maybe He’s just waiting to hear us cry, “Daddy!” before He picks us up again and
cradles us in His lap.
As parents, we don’t do it on purpose, but it seems to happen more than we want it to. We take care of whoever needs us most at the moment. We don’t want your kids to feel left out, and we don’t love them any less than you did before. We still know exactly where they are and what they’re doing and we’re just as interested in them. But we spend more time with the baby, whose needs are urgent, because he is helpless without us.
This could explain why sometimes, as “mature” Christians, we feel like God has left us. Or, not “left”, exactly, but that He just isn’t paying us as much attention as he used to. The love He has for us is just as strong as ever, and although we know that, we’re struck by moments of jealousy. We watch someone new to the faith, and see how closely they’re walking with the Lord, and we feel left out. Maybe it’s because we’re no longer babies; we’re children, teens, adults, even – spiritually. We’ve become a little more self-sufficient. We know how to feed ourselves the Word. We know who to hang out with, and who will be a bad influence. We think we know what He would tell us to do in a given situation, so sometimes we don’t even ask. We may not even go to Him unless we’re in trouble. When we can no longer fix things on our own, or a situation becomes dangerous, He’s the first one we call. But other times, we forget to even ask.
Consequently, sibling rivalry may flare up, with resentment and envy creating a wedge between us and the “babies” in the family. I think sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are loved just as much as ever, and that the little ones look up to their older brothers and sisters for direction.
God told us to come to him as little children. I always thought that meant to come innocently, openly, without doubts to cloud our faith. But perhaps it also means this: we can’t delude ourselves into believing we don’t need Him. He’s still our source and our provider. He’s our Creator and He adores us and marvels over every single step we take, every new thing we discover, and all the stages of our growth. When we venture out into the big, scary world, He still wants to hold our hand in His large, comforting one. He is still our loving Father, and He’s never left. Maybe He’s just waiting to hear us cry, “Daddy!” before He picks us up again and
cradles us in His lap.
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