10 Commandments for Parents: Forsaking All Others

OK, with all of the other commandments it is easy to see how they can be specifically applied to parenting, but the one against adultery stumped me for awhile.  I really don't want to get into anything icky, although the creepiness of father-daughter patriarchy teachings is worth noting.  But I believe that adultery is about more than sex--it is about breaking covenant and giving someone else a place that doesn't belong to them.  It is choosing someone else over your spouse.  In that context, there are some important parallels with parenting.

Image credit: Terence Yim on Flickr

The parents that I know love their children dearly and value their relationships with their kids.  Yet it is so easy fall into the temptation of allowing our desire to please other adults to edge out our covenant to our kids. 

Why is it assumed that we should always side with any adult against our children if there is a conflict?

When our children are born, most of us are filled with tenderness and compassion for them.  We want to meet their needs, even if it means sacrifice.  I don't know of any parents who enjoyed letting their babies cry it out.  Most of them tell me that their own heart was sobbing right along with their little one.  But they listened to someone else who led their heart to be hardened against their baby.  Others faced similar situations with weaning, circumcision, vaccination and other issues.

Samuel Martin has done some interesting research and found that many mothers have a heart that was inclined to gentle discipline, and that they felt uneasy or distressed at the thought of spanking their children. Ultimately, if they did go on to spank, it was often because of pressure from others, whether family, friends, church or society in general.
 
What parent of a toddler hasn't been in a public situation where the child is having a meltdown and we feel temptation to parent for the crowd?  Recently a missionary friend was visiting, and described a church service where she was on the platform with the eyes of the entire congregation trained on her.  Just at that moment, her three year old began to act...well, three.   She could see the expectations on some of the faces to punish him into relative quietness (my snort here--like you can really punish a three year old into being quiet!  The ones I have seen typically get louder).  Instead, she smiled and took him in her arms and comforted him.  She politely expressed to the congregation, "My first ministry is always to my family."

It is hard for some parents to choose between their children and protecting their image of a perfect family.  I have seen some of my dear friends be rejected by their families in favor of their abusers once they decided to get out of their marriage.  Some of those parents were seduced by the manipulation of the abuser or bribed with promises of more access to their grandchildren.  Other friends were abandoned by their families when they came out.  All of those parents broke their covenant to their children because they placed a higher priority on their own rightness.

Marriage vows are pretty well defined, but we don't have the same ceremony when we become parents.  Honestly, though--shouldn't our commitment to the our vulnerable, helpless children who are a part of our family because of our own choices entail just as much love, and promises of faithfulness, to cherish them?  And shouldn't our responsibility to them come before our choice to please people outside of our family?

It is difficult to forsake the parenting book gurus, the callous opinions of preachers, doctors, friends and more to be faithful to our own hearts.  But it is still worth doing.  As a daughter, grand daughter and daughter in law of pastors, I echo my friend Femke.  Our commitment should always be to our family over pleasing anyone else.  As Eli learned, very little matters if you haven't been able to reach your own children.  There will always be judgmental stares and disapproving sniffs over our parenting.  Our covenant is to our families, and our choice should always be for them. 

The 10 Commandments for Parents: Thou Shalt Not Kill

Image credit: Mykl Roventine on Flickr

Well, this one sounds like a no-brainer, right?  Agreeing that parents should not kill their children is pretty universal.  The challenge is to look a little deeper and determine how this applies to people who are far more than their physical bodies.

What is it that really makes you *you*?  When do you feel most alive?  When I look at my four children, each of them have traits that are unique.  Ariana is a dreamer, Joel a teacher and strategizer, Elena always seeks to help someone else, Amaya loves to get us giggling along with her.  They are each their own person, born with a God-given spirit and personality.  And I will admit, there are times when I have to guard against killing them.

Not the exasperated-end-of-my-rope-and-they-just-made-a-huge-mess-thing that is meant as a joke (although, yes, of course I have been there many times--it is just that my mom did such a strong job of teaching us to never use hate, kill or stupid in reference to another person that those words don't even come up in my thoughts.  Except sometimes stupid, when it seems especially accurate, but never about my kids, who are of course brilliant.  Anyway, I digress.)

I think that there are two ways of killing kids that we must watch out for: killing their individuality (they are not meant to be the same people we are, or the same as anyone else) and poisoning their souls with shame.

I am obsessed with love reading.  As a child, I memorized the ingredient lists on shampoo bottles because I couldn't even go the length of time in a shower without reading something, anything!  Even as an adult, reading is as much a part of who I am as eating.  My oldest daughter also learned to read easily and enjoys it.  My son hates it.  He won't do it at all unless he has external incentives.  Yet he is able to spot obscure and complicated patterns, adores any math game and excels at spatial reasoning.  He is not me, and that is OK. 

Sure, reading is important and I want him to have the tools he needs to be successful.  But I have to acknowledge to myself that if he never fantasizes about being locked into Barnes and Noble for hours at a time, that is OK, too.  I don't want to try to squeeze him into my mold.

That is an easy example, but so often adults are conditioned to ignore individuality of temperament, personality, ability and any other trait in a child.  "Don't be so shy!" "You don't really mean that."  "Why can't you be more like your sister?  She never/always..."  We take things like a child's energy level, need for solitude/interaction, interests and pressure them to conform to what is most convenient for us, trying to rub off God's fingerprints on them and instead shine them up to reflect best on us.

This goes hand in hand with shaming our children.  Whenever we try to control someone through shame, we are aligning ourselves with the Accuser.  Parents do it because it works.  And perhaps because that is what was done to them.  The cost is never worth it, though.  Have you ever felt your own soul shrivel under someone else's disapproval or dislike?

People talk about breaking a child's will or spirit.  Somehow, an abundance of life is uncomfortable for many of us.  We squirm at too much enthusiasm, too much love, too much noise, too much exuberance, too much grief, too much feeling, too much daydreaming, too much laughter, too much color--too much life.   It feels safer to have things tightly under our decorous control, even if that means killing just a tiny bit to get it.

Can you ever recall sharing a dream or excitement with someone, only to have them crush you with mockery or "cold, hard facts"?  Do you ever remember trying to change part of yourself to attain approval?  The casual callousness behind so many of those seemingly small interactions can be a deadly thing.  I want our home to be a safe place to imagine and dream, to make mistakes, to be goofy, to be silly, to be exactly who we are and have that welcomed and celebrated.

Finally, the way that we present God to our children affects their spiritual lives. Do they associate God with love and security?  Or with fear and shame?  We made a choice when our children were babies that we would not leave them alone in the church nursery if they cried.  A lot of people thought that we were being ridiculously indulgent, but we didn't want their associations of church to be abandonment and fear.  We don't tell them that "You will make Jesus sad if you do that," even when we explain why something is wrong, because toddlers don't need the weight of responsibility for the moods of the Almighty.   We tell them about grace and acceptance, His overwhelming love for all His creation, and how much He desires them.

All of us take daily safeguards to protect our children's bodies: we feed them healthy foods, try to avoid toxic chemicals, stay up to date on the latest in car seat safety, and so much more.  All these things are important.  But let us not overlook the importance of emotional and spiritual safety for our children.  We need to protect their souls, and safeguard all that makes them unique.  Let us do all in our power to keep their joy and confidence, tenderness and excitement, dreams and individuality alive and thriving!

The 10 Commandments for Parents: Honor Your Father and Your Mother

The commandment to honor our parents gets a lot of attention.  Not surprisingly, most of the emphasis comes from parents, even though it isn't written to them.  I wholeheartedly believe that the Bible commands that children obey and honor their parents.  But I also believe that we as parents must be exceedingly careful with this commandment for two reasons:  it is a commandment to children, not to parents, and our perception of obedience is often skewed.

It seems obvious, but the commandment is not, "Parents, demand honor for yourselves."  Read the Gospels and look at Jesus' response to the disciples when they started trying to grasp honor and position for themselves.  Arrogantly demanding that others honor us goes entirely against the nature of Christ.

Consider this other example of Biblical family relationships.  Husbands and wives are commanded to submit to each other, but they are certainly not commanded to coerce the other into submission.  We are responsible to God for following His commands to us.  We are not responsible for exacting revenge against those who do not soothe our pride.

Another important point is that obedience is far more than compliance.  Compliance is just outwardly doing what is required.  True obedience means that they hear with their hearts, they understand, and they choose to obey.  It is a heart response of united purpose.  It cannot be forced.  If it is done out of fear, it is merely compliance, not obedience.   And nowhere are parents given the authority to judge the hearts and intents of their children.  To attempt that is to try to usurp power that belongs to God alone, and a far more serious thing than any childish mistakes our little ones might make.

There is incredible power and beauty in a family that is united in their goal to love and glorify God.  So how can we help our children to hear, to understand, to obey?

To help our children to hear us, we have to have their attention.  Yelling from across the room while our own eyes are glued to the TV or computer doesn't cut it.  If it isn't important enough to me to get off my bum and take a second to focus, why should it matter to them?  We need to go to where they are, gently touch them, make eye contact, and then state the request.  It is also very important that we think through our wording.

Once we have their full attention and have clearly stated our request, it may take a few seconds for them to process it.  That is OK.  It may also mean that we have to help them to follow our instructions.  GOYB parenting teaches our children that our words have meaning because we are there to prevent them from being ignored.

Remember, they won't be able to hear us if their emotions are shrieking so loudly that they drown us out.  Research shows that children who are scared or angry aren't physically capable of reasoning and understanding well.  Entirely different areas of the brain are involved.  So if they are upset and we truly want them to hear and understand, we have to help them to calm down, not just outwardly, but inwardly.  That may mean that we have to listen, validate and comfort before we can teach.

Transforming instruction and teaching so that a small child can truly understand it is one of the best things we can do.  It can clarify and strengthen our own sense of purpose, or it may cause us to reevaluate our instructions.  If there really isn't a good reason for it, or not one we can understand and explain ourselves, then perhaps it isn't a good instruction.

I hear a lot of  "I'm the parent, that's why!" and objections to explaining things to children on the grounds that in an emergency there won't be time for explanations.  I think the progression is backward on that, though.  If we explain so that our children fully understand, it builds trust so that eventually, the past history of the relationship, and the confidence that has developed from that, will help them to comply when it is necessary.

Although ultimately, the choice to obey is between our children and God, there is much that we can do to enable them to want to obey.  We can courteously get their attention, speak clearly when they are able to listen, and we can focus on building the trust and connection that will help them want to share our vision.  Only then will they truly be able to obey and honor us from the heart.

The rainforest path was treacherous and slippery.

But they carefully followed and obeyed because they understood and shared the vision.

The 10 Commandments for Parents: Remember the Sabbath

Sit down with an iced coffee.  Breathe.  Know you are loved.  That it is going to be OK.

Deep in the center of my heart, I know that this is my calling.  This is what I am supposed to be doing.  Yet, there are so many moments (hours, days, weeks, even) when I feel overwhelmed at this responsibility, this delight, this joy, but sometimes this burden, to be the best mom I can be for my kidlets.

One of my favorite passages from Anne of Ingleside describes Anne's rival mocking her for placing her writing career on the back burner to mother six children.  Anne replies that she is writing Living Epistles now.  We are, you know.  The messages we write on the hearts of our children will be known and read by all.  And I fear that I am not enough--not patient enough, not loving enough, not wise enough.  Too broken to mother them the way I want.

The loaves and fishes weren't enough.  They were broken.  But a miracle happened when they rested in the hands of Christ and He blessed them.  It happens with us, too.  As we remember the Sabbath, (Rest. Grace. The breath of God on us and in us.  Redemption.  Jesus.) He transforms us and our relationships.

Reading through the book of Hebrews, the Sabbath stands out as a time of grace.  Relying on God instead of our own efforts.  We know that salvation isn't about us and our own strength being enough.  It is about accepting Jesus and the work that He has done.

"And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me." II Corinthians 12:9 NASB

"Cease striving and know that I am God..." ~ Psalm 46:10 NASB

"This is the confidence that we have through Christ in the presence of God.  It isn’t that we ourselves are qualified to claim that anything came from us. No, our qualification is from God.  He has qualified us as ministers of a new covenant..." ~ II Corinthians 3:4-6 CEB

My children don't earn relationship with me by never making mistakes.  That isn't the basis of my relationship with God.  And it isn't the measure of my relationship with them.  Just as I trust in God's incredible grace to be sufficient for salvation, and I allow grace to be sufficient for my children, I believe that grace is the only way to be sufficient as a mother.

When I was a child, remembering the Sabbath meant a frankly boring afternoon between church services while I was supposed to take a nap and generally whiled away an hour or two staring at the ceiling or sneaking a book. Now I wish I could take a nap!

A physical day of celebration and rest is important.  We need it.  Our bodies need it, our minds need it, our spirits need it.  (And as an aside, I have started feeling a stirring to look more closely at the ways my Torah observant friends observe the Sabbath.  There is a richness there that is drawing me, although I haven't done anything about it yet.)

Most of all, we need to remember the Sabbath in our hearts.  To let go of our striving and inadequacies, our fears and shame.  To rest in the everlasting arms.  To lay our heads on His chest and breathe in grace and the confidence that He will take our brokenness and transform it into something that still gives life.

For all of you beautiful moms and dads who are bleary eyed from being up most of the night with a sick tiny one, who are still feeling guilty over the grouchy words you snapped off earlier this evening, who are fighting to juggle the needs of your family and jobs and home and never-ending laundry, who have pored over so many contradictory articles about education/vaccination/insert topic that your thoughts are chasing each other's tails like tireless puppies, who are sinking into a quicksand of loneliness because your spouse doesn't understand, who are afraid that you just aren't enough:  Rest.  Enter into the Sabbath.

Photo credit: oliverkindall on Flickr

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Note:  For any of you who are interested in the relationship between gentle parenting and the Sabbath, Samuel Martin has a fascinating article (over 9,000 words!) that delves into both topics.  For information on how to get a copy, please email info@biblechild.com and don't forget to check out his blog.  :)

The 10 Commandments for Parents: Taking His Name in Vain

The single greatest cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable. ~ Brennan Manning

Taking God's name in vain, in my mind, is far deeper than the words we exclaim in intense moments.  The real heart of this commandment is about how we live.  If we are called by His name, we need to act like Jesus would.  We color our children's perception of God, and the weight of that responsibility leaves me gasping some days.

As I have mentioned before, I grew up in the ministry.  Parents, grandparents and parents in law were all pastors.  I've seen the good, the bad and the ugly.  My husband and I have heard all the jokes and stories about preachers' kids.  We know about hypocrisy and how damaging it can be.

But I stumble.  So many days (every day?) I slip into self-centeredness.  I feel that tightness at the corners of my mouth, hear the voice of the Accuser in an angry sigh from my own mouth.  I fight to cling to gentleness when the littles are arguing, interrupting again some task I am desperate to finish...

Our youngest daughter's name means "true image".  That is what we want to be to our children.  A true image of love and grace, so that their vision of the Father won't be horribly distorted and clouded.  I rail (justly, I think) at the hypocrisy of religious teachers who claim mercy and forgiveness through the cross for adults, but insist that children pay for their sins through spankings and punishments.  Yet there are days when I want vengeance, too.

That mocking voice that jeers, "Who are you to write about parenting?" gets disturbingly loud sometimes.

The truth is that the only way to escape taking God's name in vain is to dwell in Him.  To abide in the vine.  That looks like relationship.  Spending time together.  Not in an oh-no-on-top-of-everything-else-obligatory-spiritual-quiet-time-that-I-would-look-forward-to-if-I-were-a-better-Christian way.  (Shudder).  Not another way to fail.  It looks like the evenings when my headache eases because I am resting against Carlos' chest.   Like when we laugh together and carry on a conversation despite a zillion interruptions because we know each other enough to follow along anyway.  Like the times that our eyes meet and we can't help but smile.  Like that.

I am convinced that if we spend enough time with Him, our clothes will start to smell like God's house.  "So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience..."(Col. 3:12)


I breathe in grace and put on compassion and kindness, even if they fit a bit awkwardly.  

And I can trust in His power at work in my life that is helping me grow into His image and likeness.  

Taking someone's name is about becoming family.  What I want my children to see is that relationship.  Jesus said that we would be recognized as His because of love.  As a daughter of God, a mother to my children and a sister to them in Christ (why isn't this aspect talked about more in Christian parenting circles?), I want love to permeate every aspect of our days, to clothe all our interactions so that they never have to wonder if I have taken that name in vain. 

Because I can't be the only one who gets this song stuck in my head whenever I read the opening quote to this post. ;)

The 10 Commandments for Parents: No Graven Image

I suspect that Jesus had colic.  That He didn't sleep through the night at 12 weeks, and probably not even at 12 months.  That He made messes and spilled things.  That He tantrumed some days.  It wouldn't surprise me a bit if He had difficulty meeting all the milestones that parents obsess over and struggled in school.  The Bible doesn't say, of course, but I am reasonably sure that He was not an easy baby, or even an easy child.  Nothing else about His life was easy.

I also believe He never sinned.  But for some parents, reconciling that statement with the previous paragraph is hard, because our society has created a graven image of the perfect baby/child.  A *good* baby or child is one that is convenient.  Who doesn't bother you or take away attention from more important matters (the more important matters being the parent's interests, free time, and above all, sleep).  Who only garners attention for cuteness and excelling in academics and athletics.  Who is quiet and plays independently, but is still socially sophisticated.

Um, I make muffins?  Does that count?

My mental models weren't limited to my children.  I was sure in the beginning that I would be a together mom.  You know the kind (well, maybe you do--I have never actually met her, but I have heard of her and seen pictures).  I would make sure to keep myself, my child and my home looking nice.  I would maintain the same level of availability and energy for all of my pre-motherhood relationships.  My child would always be perfectly behaved, and sleep through the night in her own room, because I would be the practically perfect in every way Mary Poppins mom who never tilted the wrong way from the perfect balance of kindness and firmness.   As she grew older and we had more children, I would competently make sure that their behavior was above reproach, and that no child ever felt left out. I would delightedly homeschool with creative and enjoyable lessons, always prepare delicious and healthy meals, and my darlings would never fight amongst themselves. I would be able to do it all, do it all well, and do it consistently. :laughs to the point of wiping tears. 

The other graven images I had?  That the Bible instructs parents to spank, that we must vigilantly guard against defiance and backtalk, that we must always be consistent and always present a united front.  That we are all sinners in the hands of an angry God.  They were all based off of popular opinion in our culture, but not real Truth.

Graven images are deadly.  They destroy relationships, leaving behind only an atrophied, hollow, wooden shell of the life that they are supposed to represent.  We are cautioned not to allow the world to squeeze us into its mold, to not conform to the graven images of our culture.   Trying to force ourselves or our children to fit into the little boxes we have created only brings shame and heartache.  But what about ideals?  What is the difference?

For me, the problem was in the priorities.  Relationship always needs to come first.  That usually involves a lot of stripping away of the outer things that we look at and measure by.  Another thing?  Convenience and long term goals are rarely compatible.  So we have to get rid of our little household gods and decide what (and Who) truly is worthy of our allegiance and our energy.

Knocking down those graven images is tough.  Nobody likes to admit that they were wrong.  But it is still worth the effort.  They need to be replaced with reality.  For religious misconceptions, it means examining the Scripture, studying to correctly handle the word of truth (which requires delving more deeply than a passing glance to make sure that it confirms our own biases.  A Hebrew lexicon--not concordance--can be very helpful.).  For other things, it may mean research into child development and mental health.

The beautiful thing?  Despite the messiness, the lack of airbrushed perfection of real life, it is just that:  real.  Not fake, hypocritical pretense.  Life.  Not a cold, empty statue of a false god.  My kids shattered the mold that I had envisioned for them.  I never attained all the standards I set for myself.  But that is OK, because it turns out that God is far bigger than the stern, tiny box I wanted to confine Him to.  He is full of mercy and grace upon grace.  He is a God of restoration, who lifts us and heals us.  A God of abundant Life.

The 10 Commandments for Parents: No Other Gods

Image credit Maxwell Hamilton

One of the best things about becoming a mom is finding new depth and riches in Scripture.  I have thought a lot about how the Beatitudes apply to parents, and last night I began to think of how important the ten commandments are in our relationships with our children.

The very first says, "You shall have no other gods before Me".  But idolatry is still alive and well within the Church.  When we hear about it, it is usually in reference to possessions, greed and general priorities.  That is important.  But there is another form of idolatry that many in the church actually encourage: setting up parents as idols to children.

There is a teaching that pervades Christianity that essentially teaches that children will never learn to follow God unless they first see their parents as gods.  Under this reasoning, children are expected to obey without question.  Worship Respect for parents is paramount, and even mere thoughts that might be out of line are considered defiance.

Some, like Tripp and Pearl, take it even further: by spanking a child, they are able to remove the child's sin and guilt (Jesus could have saved Himself a lot of hassle if He had just gotten more parents to hit their kids!).

Stated this way, it sounds kind of extreme.  But I have heard countless parents use these very arguments.  Children must learn to obey parents so that they will someday be able to obey God.  That a spanking absolves guilt, and that in fact, a child will ask for a spanking or punishment to relieve his conscience.  Not to mention all the times that I have heard parents claim omniscience and assume that they know exactly what is going through the heart, mind and emotions of the child.  I believe that this is setting ourselves up as idols for our children--taking a position that should only belong to God.

It goes even further.  Most parents are far more harsh and demanding than God is.  First time obedience with a happy heart is very popular with them.  God, on the other hand, was more concerned about real, from the heart obedience, even if it took awhile.  Read the parable of the brothers in Matthew 21.  Consider times when Abraham and other heroes of faith argued with God and it was accounted to them as righteousness.  God actually had some pretty strong things to say about those who complied outwardly but whose hearts were far from Him.  I believe that there is even a blessing in wrestling with God, in holding tight until we can choose Him without any reservations.

When we tell our children that they cannot be forgiven without a spanking or other punishment, we are clearly violating Scripture.  We are forgiven through grace because of faith in Jesus--not because someone else punishes us.  Yes, I know that many have made God into their own image and claim that He spanks us.  I don't buy it.  And, even if He did, my point here is that we are not God.  He is all-knowing and just.  We aren't.  Vengeance belongs to God, not us. And He said and shows us that mercy triumphs over judgement.  What message are we sending our children?

This applies to shaming, as well.  It is one thing to teach our children about the consequences of their actions.  It is quite another to try to induce feelings of guilt and repentance.  Conviction comes through the Holy Spirit and leads to a wholehearted desire to make amends and change.  If I try to heap shame on them and make them feel bad for mistakes, to force them to be sorry, I am not only getting in the way of that, but actually taking on the role of Satan--the Accuser.  That is a sobering thought.

Another way that parents set themselves up as idols is through a pretense of perfection.  I struggle.  I make mistakes.  And I need to be honest with my children about it.  I apologize when I do something wrong (much more often than I wish!).  I let them know when I make mistakes, and do my best to make amends. 

Finally, we have the progression all wrong.  Obedience is a result of relationship, not a prerequisite.  As our children grow in grace and wisdom, the relationship and trust will produce the desire and confidence to listen to our instructions.  Demanding compliance in the hopes that it will eventually allow them to earn a relationship with us is backwards.  God lavished love on us even while we were sinners. 

I want my children to worship God, not me.  I don't want them to see me as the intermediary between them and God.  I want them to know Him for themselves.  To follow Him out of hearts full of love and trust.  To repent from wrongdoing because they desire to do what is right, not because I have burdened them with shame and fear.  I cannot, must not, set myself up as an idol to my children.