Kristen Anne Glover

Five in Tow

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: The Good {Day 12}

New here? Click here to start at the beginning of the series.

Based on the roar coming up from the downstairs bedroom, someone had to be dying.  Except that I was pretty sure people die more quietly than that.  Someone was being torn limb from limb or was being eaten by a wild beast.

Or.

Or, one of my twins had a toy the other twin wanted.  Sure enough, a peek downstairs revealed Paul flailing on the floor while Micah played nearby, contentedly pushing a “weally, weally cool” Matchbox car, oblivious to his brother’s agony.

“MI-CAHhhhHHhhhhHHHHhhhhh!”  Paul wailed.  “I WANT THAT CAR!”

“Hum,” Micah said.

Great.  Here we go, I thought.  We have a million Matchbox cars and they have to fight over the same one?

Paul gritted his teeth, making the little dimple under his eye stand out.  “Arrrrrrrrrrgh!” he said through clenched jaw.  His frustration was palpable, probably because he was biting his tongue.

Micah looked at the prized car in his hand.  “Hum,” he said again.  Then, he shrugged his shoulders and handed the car to Paul.  What. Just.  Happened?

“Micah!” I said, stunned.  Even Paul looked stunned.  “Micah, you shared!”  Micah grinned sheepishly.

I had practically given up on the fact that those boys would ever share anything but flu germs.  It seems to me that I spend an unthinkable amount of time breaking up arguments and reminding them how not to act like savages.

Then God gave me that moment.  It stood out in the middle of our mess like a giant orange construction sign that read “God at Work.”

God was at work in my children!  Who would’ve thought.  Sometimes, I think the construction project has stalled out and we’re not making any progress.  Haven’t we been over the sharing thing a bazillion times?  And why do you still pick your nose?  Can’t we be done with that nasty habit already?

There are days when I feel a little bit like an Israelite, wandering around in the same sand pit year after year after year.  For forty years, Israel didn’t seem to be getting anywhere either.  They weren’t, as a matter of fact.  And even though God provided for all their needs in the most astonishing ways, they didn’t really notice.  Most of the time, they just grumbled and complained about all the things that weren’t going right.

But God was at work that entire time.  When they finally reached the Promised Land, a big, nasty river stood in their way.  So God parted the waters of the Jordan just like He had parted the waters of the Red Sea, and Israel walked over on dry ground.

I bet the Israelites noticed that.  They had seen that before, far away in Egypt when God redeemed them out of slavery.  It was like a great exclamation point on the end of forty years of discouragement.  He had been working all along.  He had been faithful all along.

Before they could even go about collecting some of that much longed-for milk and honey and enjoy the fruit of the promise, God told them to get back into the mud of that riverbed and dig up 12 stones.  Why?  Because God wanted them to set up the stones as a reminder.  He wanted them to remember not how relieved they were when they finally got there, but how the mighty hand of God had been at work the entire time.

There will be times with your children when it seems like you’re wandering around in circles.  But God is at work.  The problem is that we tend to focus on what our kids do wrong rather than what God is doing right.  We get discouraged because they are so far from where they need to be.  We forget to notice how far they’ve come.

When Jonathan was little, he had an issue with lying.  Everything that child said was a lie, even if the lie didn’t benefit him at all.  If you asked him, “Jonathan, is your name Jonathan?”  he would answer “No.”  It was that bad.

My husband and I worked and worked and worked with him on it for years.  Years.  We couldn’t understand why he did it, and we couldn’t get him to stop.  Every time Jonathan told a lie, I felt like I had just taken another lap around the desert.  Here we are again, fighting the same old losing battle.

Then one day, Jonathan told me the truth.  But I didn’t notice it that day.  He told me the truth again, and I still didn’t notice.  Finally, one day, Jonathan looked at me and said, “Mom!  I’m telling you the truth!”

Sure enough, he was.  I hadn’t noticed because it was gone, out of my sight.  God had taken it away, and I had already moved on to some other habit to break him of.

“Jonathan,” I said, “do you know what this means?”

He shook his head.

“This means God has been working in your heart!”

His eyes got big, and mine got teary.

“That is a good thing!  He has been working in your heart to help you not to lie.  Isn’t that awesome?”

God was at work.  Behind the scenes, where I didn’t always notice, God was doing what God does: changing hearts, convicting of sin, drawing my children near to Himself and bestowing grace upon them as members of His covenant family.  That is a work I cannot do, and when I see it happening, I need to grab onto it like a big old rock and set it up in my mind so I don’t forget, so I am not like Israel, grumbling under the blessings.

If you want to enjoy your children more, notice the good that God is doing.  Rejoice when you see the hand of God in the lives of your children.  Dig up some stones, even if you have to look long and hard for them, so you are always reminding yourself of the good.  Even when you can’t see it, the truth remains: God is at work. 

For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.
Philippians 2:13

Please join us on Monday for Day 13: Affirmation.  This post goes hand-in-hand with today’s post, so don’t miss it! 

For further thought:

1)      Philippians 4:8 says, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”  What happens when you take that Scripture to heart and put it into practice in your parenting?

2)      Make a list of all the ways you’ve seen God work in your family in the past week.  Name each child and give specific instances of how God has been faithful to work in his or her heart.  Remind yourself of it throughout the day.

3)      Read the account of Israel crossing the Jordan in Joshua 3:5-4:24.  Why did God tell them to go back into the river and pick up 12 stones?  What were the stones supposed to remind them of?

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Praise {Day 11}

Welcome to our series! Find Day 1 here.

The outer gates had already been locked for the night when the doorbell sounded.  The five of us looked at each other, startled by the interruption.  A second ring quickly echoed the first, followed by a frantic pounding on the gate.  Something was wrong.

The missionaries I was visiting rushed to the entry.  They found one of their parishioners standing under the street lamp, tears running down his face.  His fourteen-year-old daughter had run away from home.  Mario and his family had been searching for hours, but they could not find her.  Now night was falling on the streets of Mexico City, and despair was rising.

We gathered back inside and began to pray.  Members of the small house church began to arrive, pressing themselves into the circle and taking up the burden that was too much for any one of us to bear.  Fear reigned.  We all knew what could happen to a girl who gambled with a night on the streets.

Then someone started to sing a song of praise.  It was almost as shocking as a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night—praise in the midst of despair, praise in the midst of fear, praise when it was hard to be thankful at all.  “Tu fidelidad es grande, tu fidelidad incomparable es…”

Your faithfulness is great,

Your faithfulness is incomparable.

Something in the room began to change.  Our focus shifted from the hopelessness of the situation to the awesome sovereignty of God.  Hope began to drive out fear.  Light began to penetrate the darkness.  It was as if God came down to meet us there and turned the bitter stuff of earth into holy ground.

It took my breath away.  Never had I seen praise used like that before.  In my experience, praise was mostly confined to Sunday mornings or an occasional “Way to go, God!” when something particularly great happened.  But praise in the midst of darkness?  Praise for despair?  Praise when there was so much to ask for?  That was new.

The psalmist said “God inhabits the praises of His people.”  (Psalm 22:3)  I had never seen that verse come alive like I did that night in a small house in a barrio of a dark city.

When we praise God, God fills up our praises, dwells in them, and reigns on them.  Darkness cannot stay in a room filled with praise—it has to flee to make room for God to come down.  When we lift our lips to praise, God bends to receive it.  He comes into the midst of us.

If God is here in my midst, then this place where I am standing, this Mexican house or this home filled with sippy cups and board books, of broken promises and heartache—this is holy ground.  Neither Satan nor any of his mercenaries can stand on holy ground.  The darkness that threatens to undo me must go.

Some days, I feel too broken to praise.  Then I remember praise is God’s gift to the broken.  It is an anecdote to the hopeless.  It is power to those who have no advocate because it speaks the very essence of God into darkness.

Perhaps that is why King David spent so much time lifting holy hands in praise.  His wasted his best years running for his life.  His beloved friend died.  Two of his sons died.  His daughter was raped.  He had blood all over his hands.

Yet no one in the Bible praised God as much as David.  In the middle of the desert, in the dark of a cave, with enemies all around him, David had faith, and David found holy ground.

How I need God to come down on the days when I don’t feel any joy for my calling or any delight in my children!  How I need to praise Him.

Not just thank Him—praise Him.  The two words are not the same, and they do not hold the same power.  It is the difference between saying, “Thanks for the pie!” and “You make the best pie.”  One is thanks.  The other is praise.

Thanks, or thanksgiving, is temporal.  It can be new every day just like the mercies of God.  And it is a good thing to give thanks to the Lord!  We should always acknowledge His gifts to us.  But one day, all the gifts will have been given, and all that is lacking in us will have been filled up.  There will no longer be any need.

But when the needs have all been met, and the thanks have ceased, the praises will have just begun.  Praise is eternal.  It is not temporal because it acknowledges the unchanging attributes of God.  Praise affirms and proclaims God’s character.  It says something about Him, not just what He has done but who He is.

That is what we were created for, not just to respond to God, but to recognize and declare the truth about God even before His hand moves to bless us.  That makes praise an offering of faith.  When we praise God, we are saying, “Though I have not seen you, I know you.”  Thanks is remembering.  Praise is believing.

When we step out in faith and praise God even when our circumstances make it difficult, God always meets us there. 

Do you want to enjoy your children more, even when it is difficult?  Do you want God in your living room, giving you strength in the midst of the struggle?

Praise Him.

Please join us for Day 12: Focus on the Good

For further thought

1) Open your Bible to Psalms.  How far do you have to read before you come to a command to praise?

2) How can thanks become man-centered?  Why can praise never be man-centered?

3) Activity: The next time you or your kids are particularly cranky, put on some praise music and dance!  Did God meet you there?

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Appearances {Day 10}

New here? Click on the photo to begin at Day 1.

Ollie Baba was my first 4-H lamb.  He was a triplet, but his mother was not particularly excited about the novelty of triplets, so I adopted him.  I delighted in giving Ollie his bottle and watching the warm milk dribble down his chin while I scratched his wooly ears.  Soon, he learned to recognize my voice in the barn and skipped happily up to the fence to greet me.

For at least three weeks, I loved him.  He was so easy to tame, I knew we were going to win a blue ribbon at the fair.

Then my grandmother opened the fences and let the sheep out to pasture for the first time that spring and everything changed.  Ollie Baba kicked up his heels and sprang about on all fours.  He nibbled sweet new grass and pretended to buck his brothers.  When I came out to visit him, he shook his head and ran the other way.

Every day after that, I walked out to the barnyard and tried to get Ollie Baba to come to me.  He responded by stomping his feet and dashing away and getting his head stuck in farm equipment.  I was not amused.  We had training to do if we were going to win some awards.

Putting a halter on him might help, I reasoned.  That way, I could secure him with a leash.  I sloshed through ankle-deep mud and hid behind the chicken coop so I could sneak up on him.  Ollie Baba saw me coming, waited until I was almost close enough to grab him, then he dashed away at the last second, splattering mud all over my jeans.

“That is not cute!” I yelled at him and started chasing him with the halter.  “I should have named you Ollie Dodo!  If you don’t learn to behave, I’M GOING TO SHOW A RABBIT!”

My grandpa, who was on the other side of the electric fence working on the John Deere, watched the whole thing with amusement.  “It’s not how he’s behaving that’s the problem,” he said, “it’s how you’re reacting.”

That is so completely not true, I thought.  He knows better.  He’s just not doing it.  ButI was too angry to want to talk about it.   Leave it to me to pick the most bone-headed sheep in the flock.  He was incorrigible, and because of him, I was going to look like an idiot on fair day.

“The judges are used to sheep acting like sheep,” my grandpa continued, as if Ollie’s infractions were not the point.  “He can’t make you look any worse than you are.  But if you handle him well, it will just make you look better.”

Also not true, I thought.  I was unwilling to take any responsibility for the impending fair mortification.  This disaster is totally Ollie’s fault.  I sulked all the way into the house and hung up the muddy halter.  Stupid sheep.

Of course, Grandpa was right.  I didn’t learn it that summer, and I didn’t learn it in time for the fair in the fall.  But God has a way of repeating failed lessons until we learn them, I’ve had this one on auto-replay ever since God gave me children.

Children are like sheep.  They are cute and cuddly, and I want them to behave perfectly so I can keep up the appearance that I have it all together.  Is that too much to ask?

But like sheep, they are completely incapable of making me look better than I really am.  It is not their nature, and it certainly isn’t their job. 

They act out.  Kids will misbehave and throw temper tantrums at the least opportune moments, like right when the neighbor lady shows up unannounced.  They will shout out, “Are we done yet?” in the middle of your husband’s sermon and admit to a crowd of people that you did not brush their teeth the night before.

Worse, they will lie, cheat, and steal.  They will act out of anger and vengeance.  They will be defiant, rebellious, and prideful.  They will get their heads stuck in all sorts of awful places.

And, oh!  How I hate to see this, not just because it is destructive to my child but also because it reflects badly on me.  That’s not something I  readily admit to people but it’s true!  I become frustrated because I feel like I’m standing in the judges’ circle and everyone is giving me marks on how well my children behave.  No one wants to be the parent with the screamer when the judges are taking notes.

But sin is never the end of the story.  It is only the beginning.

All children, myself included, start with the same story.  We all start with a complete inability to do good, much less make anyone else look good.  If I expect my child to be my walking achievement award, I will be frustrated because he will always fail.  He simply cannot live up to that expectation.

Neither can I.  I certainly don’t always act in a way that makes my Father look good.  In fact, the only thing about my actions that makes my Father look good is the way He responds to them.  It’s what He does with my incorrigible, willful heart that testifies to Who He is, not what I did in the first place.

No matter what my actions are, God is always loving, patient, forgiving, and restoring.  He does not treat me with contempt or say things like, “I can’t believe you did that!”  He does not count to three or yell.  He does not threaten to leave me behind.  He doesn’t air my sins in front of the entire universe so everyone will see how hard He has it.  Nor does He ignore my sin.  He never shies away from righteous discipline.

God always responds to me rightly.  And that makes Him look good because God is good.

The same thing is true of sheep, as my grandfather pointed out, and the same thing is true of children.  Your child’s behaviors do not reflect badly on you; your reactions to their behaviors reflect badly on you. 

It is when I chase the sheep around the barnyard that I look foolish, not the fact that the sheep ran away.  It is when I yell for my child to come inside right now that makes me look impatient, not the fact that he didn’t come the first time I called.  It is when I ignore sin and stay on the couch instead of disciplining ungodly behaviors that makes me look like a bad mother, not the fact that my kid developed a sinful habit.

But if that child acts out, and I know he will, and kicks and screams and refuses to climb down from the curly slide at McDonald’s, and I respond to him firmly and quietly, discipline in a loving way, and forgive him immediately, doesn’t that make me look good?  Of course it does, because that is a supernatural love shining through a broken moment.  That is not the appearance of good.  That is good.

And that is exactly what my grandpa was trying to tell me so many years ago.  The day after I had given up all hope of training my lamb, I saw my grandmother leading Ollie Baba around.  She had the halter on his head, but she wasn’t using it.  She had one hand under his chin and one under his tail, and she was directing him wherever she wanted him to go.

I was astounded.  Uh-stoun-ded.

“How did you do that?” I demanded, pulling on my coat and slipping into my barn shoes.

“You just have to be patient,” she said, “and it doesn’t hurt to bring him some grain.”

Ollie tried to turn at the sound of my voice but Grandma held him steady.  “Now Ollie,” she said calmly and tightened her grip on his chin.  Ollie quieted.  It was remarkable.

I knew the heart of that beast was willful beyond measure.  Just the day before, he had made me look completely incompetent.  I could see now that I was completely incompetent.  But under the hands of a loving shepherd, Ollie’s willfulness only glorified her skill.  Grandpa was right.  Ollie could not make anyone look worse.

But when my grandma responded to him rightly, she looked very good indeed.

Join us tomorrow for Day 11: Praise

For further thought

1) As parents, we are in the unique position of being both parents and children.  How did your experiences as a child impact the way you parent?  Were you expected to make your parents “look good”?

2) Think about specific instances in the past week where your child’s behavior made you cringe.  How could your response to that action have changed it from a shameful moment to a glorifying moment?

3) Sin is never the end of the story.  Have you taken the time to reconcile your sins with God?  Have you allowed Him the opportunity to respond rightly to your disobedience?  It’s never going to be any easier than right now.  Take a moment to confess your need to God.  Trust in Jesus for the forgiveness of your sins.  Your Father-God will hear and answer!