Kristen Anne Glover

Five in Tow

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Constancy {Day 7}

Click here to begin at Day 1

It was a cool fall night in Massachusetts.  The northern lights danced as my husband and I sprawled out on an old quilt on a dewy hillside and looked up at the deep night sky.  We had set the alarm and crawled out of bed to look up at the stars.  They hung in the sky the way they had for all the years since the universe was born, brilliant like jewels in the dark of the night.

Suddenly, a star fell out of the sky, like a wish.  Then another, and another.  We watched as one of the most brilliant meteor showers of our lifetime unfolded before our eyes.

It was breathtaking.  The constancy of the stars stood in direct contrast to the spontaneous streaks of the meteors.  It seemed as if the very heavens were coming down to play.

How different the experience would have been without the order and dependability of the stars!  If the entire universe was nothing more than a spinning mass of erratic suns and planets, the meteors would go unnoticed.  Without its constancy, we could not enjoy the spectacular creativity of God and the wonderful diversity of His creation.

Constancy gives us the security we need to enjoy our world.

Even as infants, we cry out for it.  We long to know that we when we are in pain, we will be comforted, when we are hungry, we will be fed.  We feel most secure when we are surrounded by a certain level of sameness.  Order.  Predictability.  It is as if God instilled in us a need for His very character.

And He is the one who fills that need perfectly.  The sculptor of the universe does not change.  He is not unpredictable like meteors but is constant like the stars.  He is a refuge, a rock, and the only place of strength in this world.  Even though the mountains tremble and fall into the sea, He is there.  Constant.

What a comfort that is to me when it seems like everything is falling apart.  I cannot be certain of health, employment, or even the very ground beneath my feet.  But when everything else fails, His love endures.  I never wake up and wonder if God is going to love me today.

I want my children to be able to say the same thing of me.  I want them to feel like this is the one place in the world where they will always be loved, nurtured, and accepted.  This is a place built on a rock, and it will not be blown about by the storms that come.  Inside these four walls, my children are secure in the knowledge that some things will always remain the same: faith, hope and love.

They know that when they wake up in the morning, I will be holding fast to the One constant in this world.  I will look to God to set the standard for my conduct in our home, and I will look to Him to set the standard by which their needs will be met.  When I do this, security and joy fill my home.

From this place of strength, creativity and spontaneity can shine.  Order sets the stage for the beautiful and unexpected.  If my children are secure in my love for them, they will be free to exhibit their own unique personalities without fear of rejection.  As parents, my husband and I will be free to be impulsive or imaginative without fear of degenerating into complete disorder.

But constancy must come first.  If we reverse the order and put creativity first, as I am so tempted to do, it doesn’t work.  Creativity before constancy is chaos.  God ordered the universe before His imagination filled it.  His eternal attributes gave birth to the temporal stuff of this world.  There is something to be learned from that.  Constancy is not the opposite of spontaneity.  It is the basis of it.

Constancy is the foundation of our relationship with God, and it must be the foundation of our relationship with our children.  God planned it that way.  In showing our children constancy, we show them something of God.  We build trust and security in them from which they are able to take on the uncertainties of the world.  I do not do it perfectly, but I do it better the more I keep my eyes fixed on the One who does not change.

And the more focused I am on the constancy of God, the more my children feel secure in my love, and the more I can enjoy their wonderful diversity.

 


Photo credit: NASA

 

Please join us tomorrow for Day 8: Freedom

 

For further thought:

1) Countless times throughout the Bible, God is called our refuge and strength.  Psalm 46:1-3 is one of those places.  How does it help you to know that God is unchangeable?
2) Sometimes, it helps to do a little self-evaluation.  Do you think your children feel secure in your sameness?  Have you created a pattern of trust in your home, or is this something you need to address?  Ask God to help you be more constant in your relationship with your children.

3) If you are creative like I am, you might feel claustrophobic by the words constancy and order.  How does it help to think of constancy as the starting point of creativity?

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Discipline {Day 6}

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

When we purchased our first home four years ago, we inherited a renegade grapevine that sprawled across an insufficient arbor in the backyard.  It had become wild, consuming the trees along our property line and devouring at least three different fences in neighboring yards.

The grape clusters were sparse and grew so high up in the trees, my husband had to borrow an extension ladder from a neighbor just to reach them.  Worse, the vine was in danger of killing itself.  The roots couldn’t produce enough energy to support the out-of-control branches.  Without drastic intervention, it would slowly die.

This was a shame because the grapes on this vine are particularly tasty.  The person who planted the vine and built the arbor probably knew that.  He had great intentions of harvesting bountiful fruit.  But that’s where his interest in the plant ended.  He did not care to prune or fertilize it, and he never trained its willful vines to grow where they could be strongest.

Whoever planted the vine did not love it enough to help it reach its potential.  As a result, the undisciplined vine was not healthy, productive, or even enjoyable.  In fact, it was downright annoying.  It was growing all over the neighborhood in a tangled mess, and I didn’t know how to begin to bring it under control.

So I did the only reasonable thing: I ignored it and planted two new grape vines.  The first year, the little whips needed little attention.  But the second year, things started to happen and I had to do something.   It had not occurred to me before that I knew nothing about growing grapes.  I searched the Internet, read books, and consulted diagrams.  My shoots don’t look like the diagrams.  So I evaluated each one, looking for strengths and weaknesses.  Finally, I had to clip things that might or might not grow back and tried to compensate with an extra layer of compost.

I began to understand why the first grapevine was left to nature.  Discipline is tricky business.

It is true of grapes, and it is true of children, only more so.  You cannot have truly healthy, productive, and enjoyable children if you do not practice discipline.  Notice, I didn’t say “if you do not practice punishment.”   Discipline and punishment are two different things.   Punishment is one aspect of discipline, but so is praise and encouragement!  Proper discipline includes both.

We are accustomed in our society to interchange the terms discipline and punishment, which is unfortunate.  Because of this, “discipline” often has a negative connotation.  You may even have felt angry, defensive, or anxious when you read the word.

But discipline is anything but negative.  It means to teach or train with the intention of developing or improving a desired character or skill.  Discipline is the process of weeding out weaknesses and encouraging strengths.  It always keeps the best interests of the object in mind.  The result of discipline is that a child is able to become more fully himself.  That’s something you don’t always see in the books on discipline, but it is a vital truth.  

Imagine how different our homes would be if every child was considered a unique and special member of God’s creation.  What would happen if each mother and father looked at each child and thought, “I wonder what treasures God has given you that I can help to polish and cut?  I wonder what kind of light you can shine if I help you?”

And instead of corralling behaviors and doling out punishments and rewards, as necessary as those things are, each parent made it his or her first intention to seek out the gifts and calling of that child so that the child could pursue it, become equipped to do it, and then delight in it for the glory of God?

What a rich and beautiful world it would be!  Instead of rows and rows of perfectly cultivated apple trees growing along perfectly tidy streets, ours would be a world of winding paths through glorious orchards bursting with every kind of exotic specimen ever created.  Each and every plant would be grown and trained to reach its fullest potential, each one disciplined to achieve its best, each one trained to be beautiful and productive.   Not a single tree would be made to fulfill a purpose for which it was not intended.

How delightful it would be to live in a world like that!  How delightful it would be to raise children like that!

If the cultivator of my overgrown grapevine had loved the vine enough to discipline in that way, it would have been pruned so the best vines could strengthen and grow.  Instead of wasting energy on unproductive greenery, the roots could have produced and sustained glorious fruit.  It would have been trained to grow over the arbor where the beauty of the plant and the abundance of the fruit could be enjoyed.   A vine like that would be more fully itself than the one that was left to die in my backyard.

Isn’t the same true of our children?  When we seek to cultivate our children in the way they were created, they are healthier, happier, and more enjoyable for it.  They get to be the best them they can be.

Our world was formed by an infinitely creative God to be rich and varied, and so were our families.  Disciplining our children allows the spectacular individualism of their God-given natures to shine through.   If we fail to train them in the way God intended them to grow, or attempt to train them to be something they are not, they will suffer, and we will miss out on the joy of God’s workmanship.

My grandparents raised eight children.  Four became missionaries or dedicated themselves to full-time ministry.  One became a chiropractor, another a fireman, and another a businessman.  And one became a race car driver.

The last one is not like the others, and that is the fun of it.  If you ever watch my uncle race, you will see that he is most fully himself when he is out on the track or under the hood of a car.  His passions, which have been disciplined into a life-long pursuit, are the part of him that most clearly communicates who he is and what he was made to do.  They are the part that shouts out to God’s infinite creativity.

When we discipline our children to pursue the passions put in their hearts by God, they become more fully who they were intended to be.  They get to be themselves, only better.  And we get to enjoy them as they were meant to be.

Discipline produces good fruit!

Join us tomorrow for Day 7: Constancy 

For further thought

1) How is discipline a loving act toward your children?

2) The Bible says God disciplines those He loves (Hebrews 12:6).  How is God’s discipline of you a loving act?  How does it show His father-heart toward you?

3) Think about each of your children.  Write down the good and godly qualities you see in them.  How can you discipline those things to bear more fruit in their lives?

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Forgiveness {Day 5}

Looking for the beginning of the series? Click here!

It was not the best day to go to the pumpkin patch.  The clouds hung like furrowed brows over the sullen fields.  Everything was brown, except the things that were gray, and anything that wasn’t gray was about to be because it looked like rain.

But it wasn’t raining yet, and you can’t very well stay home on a chance of rain when you live in the Pacific Northwest or you’d never go anywhere.  Besides, I wanted to fill our Saturdays with memorable activities to help pass the months while my husband was away on Army duty.

Despite the chill in the air, the kids and I donned our fleece jackets and boots and headed off.  All of us were happy to muck about in the fields and look for the craziest pumpkin.  All but one child.  One child did not want to go to the pumpkin patch, or watch cannons shoot pumpkins into the woods, or go on a hay ride.  One child chose to be sullen and mean like the clouds over the field.  One child rained all over our fun family outing.

I was not prepared for that kind of weather.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t trying so hard to make sure my children were happy and well-loved during their father’s absence.  This child was fighting against all the good I had planned for them, and it hurt.

That night, after I put the kids to bed and the house was finally still, I shut myself in to the bathroom and succumbed to the heaviness of my heart.  I felt sad and wounded.  The evidence of ugliness lingered, like a bruise on my skin.

I turned the water as hot as it would go and stepped into the shower.  It’s easier to think in the shower, and to cry.  Words tumbled out into the water, words of sorrow over these sins lurking in such a young heart.  It seemed silly at first, like it shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did.  Kids do stuff like that.  I was probably being too sensitive.

But that childish choice had brought a division into our home.  It had taken the beauty of the day and marred the fellowship we shared.   It stood between my own child and me and threatened the closeness we enjoyed.  It wasn’t just immaturity.  It was sin, and I hated that it was here, in my home, in my child.  In me.

It was the same old struggle in new flesh.  How I wish I could have spared him from this awful inheritance!

So there, in my little earthly temple, I pleaded to God for forgiveness for the one whose heart had been so hard that day.  “Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy…”

The bitterness of the day vanished.  I found myself called to the place of Christ, not as a servant, but as a faithful high priest, earnestly interceding to God on behalf of my children.  It was as if I was standing in the gap between my children and God, clothed in Christ, asking for forgiveness for their weaknesses.  In the pattern of Christ, who prays for me, I prayed for my children as one who understands them and loves them.  I know them because they are mine.

It is an awesome thing to be a kingdom of priests, and nowhere is the reality of that calling more pronounced than when I come before the throne of God on behalf of my covenant child.  How I understand their weaknesses!  How I desire for their good, for their reconciliation to their Father!  When I grieve for the sins of my children, who often are unable yet to grieve for them themselves, it moves the heart of God.

It moves mine as well.  It is difficult to enjoy a child who hurts, offends, and disobeys.  It is hard to want to be around a child who selfishly ruins a perfectly good day by his actions or attitudes.  Even a very small person can inflict a great deal of pain.

But when I take on a ministry of reconciliation and stand in as a priest for my children, I am reminded that their offenses—as hurtful or annoying as they may be to me— are ultimately sins against God.  They are not just childish rebellions to be dismissed.  They are real sins with eternal consequences.   When my toddler refuses to obey, it is sin.  When my daughter treats her siblings harshly, it is sin.  When my son lies, it is sin.

What an awful reality.  Speaking the truth of it back to God and asking for forgiveness acknowledges the fact that my children are sinners in need of repentance.  Hearing the words spoken brings my awareness into the situation.  I cannot ignore their weaknesses when I am confessing them aloud.

It is a truth that turns my heart for my children back to God and renews my purpose to teach and train them in the way they should go because I know the consequences of sin.  I am weak!  I am prone to wander just as they are.  I see their weakness and I have compassion on them.  I understand.

But I also know the solution to the problem.  That is the beauty of the priestly role.  It allows me the opportunity to point my children to Christ, the true High Priest, the true Sacrifice.  Struggling with my children’s sin is one of the hardest parts of parenting.  But leading them to the Source of all forgiveness is truly the greatest joy.

I am writing to you, little children, because your sins have been forgiven you for His name’s sake.
1 John 2:12

Thank you for reading!  Please join us tomorrow for Day 6: Discipline. 

For further thought

1) Have you thought about yourself as a priest as we are called in 1 Peter 1:9?  Why or why not?

2) How is your role as a priest different than Christ’s role as a priest?  How is it similar?  See Hebrews 4:14-5:10.

3) Can you have a ministry of reconciliation in your home if you are harboring bitterness or taking offense at the sins of your children?  How can t help to recognize that their sins are ultimately sins against God?