Why brokenness is a blessing…

“Nap time, babygirl! Come here, please.” From across the room I could see her stiffen, prepare to protest. I gave her fair-warning. “Make a good choice. Will you say ‘yes’ or ‘no” to Mama?” There was no need to remind her of what a ‘no’ response would earn. She knows.

She stiffly, and slowly, walked over to me. Her mouth said yes and she made her feet move, but her face and demeanor were “no-ing” all the way. I picked her up, took her to the potty, and told her to go before her nap. She sat down, didn’t go, said she was done.

Outwardly obedient but deep-down defiant.  

I took her into her room for the rest-time routine. Rock, snuggle, sleep. I pulled her up on my lap in the rocking chair, but she pushed away. Again, silent, but stiff as a board and at arm’s length.  I carried her over, crawled under the quilt at her side. She lay still for a moment, then a mischievous look came across her face.

“I need go potty.” I knew it. Kids will use anything to control. To defy. I was choosing this battle and wouldn’t lose. She’s beautiful, but manipulation is not a beautiful quality when it’s all grown up.  I kissed her cheek and looked her in the eye.

“No. Mommy already told you to go and you didn’t. You’re not getting back up.” She fussed again, insisted she has to go, begins to pitch a fit. I think to myself how I don’t want to change wet sheets.

But I’ll change her sheets in order to change her heart.

“No.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes it’s a lost cause. She can’t win because I won’t budge. And almost visibly, right before my eyes, I can see the cracks, then the crumble. I can see her break.

She’s broken. She sobs.

And almost in the same breath-sob she reaches both arms out, wraps them around my neck.

She clings hard, pulls me close, and cries,

“Mama, I wan’ keep you.” 

She wants to keep me. These are the words she uses at night when she longs for me to linger. She squeezes me tight round the neck and holds on, says she wants to keep me. Won’t let me go.

I, of course, don’t pull away.

I draw her even closer into my arms. 

She’s soft. Pliable. She rests, relaxed in my arms. I hold her, my arms all the way around her little body as she rests in her bed. Even though I’m crouched over, quads burning, I stay there, my head on the pillow next to hers, kissing her cheeks.

Within two minutes she’s sound asleep. 

That’s me, I think. That’s me.

Why often do I stiffen, proud? Willing my feet and mouth to say yes to God but protesting no within my heart? Every time I choose myself, my own way, I push Him away, hold Him at arm’s length. He seeks to rock me gently, I stiffen and push Him away. He draws near to hold me. I talk to Him perhaps but my prayer is still just grasping for control. But then something jolts, cracks, crumbles.

This is how we break. This is why brokenness is a blessing. 

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. (Ps. 51:17)

Of course He won’t! Of course He never will. The same way that I hold my broken-spirit daughter, envelope her completely, engulfed in my love until she falls sweetly asleep. Until she rests in my love. 

Why do we push Him away? Our pride, the God-repellent, it stiffens within us, incites us to rebellion, but we must make it bow. Must make our feet and mouths and hearts say “yes” to God.

Then, no matter how far away He feels, He will envelope us in His love and let us rest secure. And resting secure we discover the truth:

Brokenness is the only path to wholeness.  

{Remembering this from last year. Praying blessed brokenness–and wholeness–for you and me this week. Can you let go and rest in His arms? He loves you so!! Thank you for reading.}

Parenting with Love and Logic

Right now I’m finishing up a book called Parenting with Love and Logic by Foster Cline and Jim Fay.  I feel like I have an amazing privilege in that I’m currenting taking a class on Biblical Perspectives of Family Ministry.  Well, we spend the majority talking about marriage and parenting…uh yes please!  These books are underlined, highlighted, and dog-eared not because I’m hoping to get a really good grade on the final.  I’m right in the thick of the battle!  With an almost-two-year-old who daily pushes the limits, I’ve found the information we’ve encountered invaluable to say the least. 

(The other excellent book, called The Family: A Christian Perspective on the Contemporary Home, by Drs. Jack and Judith Balswick, who both teach at Fuller Theological Seminary, is probably the best overview of biblical family perspectives that I’ve read (although that’s not saying much, I haven’t read a ton).  I will review that book once I finish. It’s more of a book on theory, however, comparing and contrasting secular theories with biblical perspectives.  More on that later.)

Parenting with Love and Logic is all about teaching children responsibility through choices.  They assert that “beginning at about 9 months of age with very simple choices — the parent must make a gentle, gradual transition to allowing their children the privilege of solving their own problems.”  One thing that both family books have emphasized is that kids develop their self-image based on what they think their parents think of them.  In essence, they think, “I don’t become what you think I can, and I don’t become what I think I can. I become what I think you think I can.”  By allowing our children to make choices, we are in essence empowering them and communicating that we think they are capable of making successful decisions on their own.

The idea of choice has stuck out to me for awhile. Our dear friends Adam and Grace Poole, probably more than any other phrase, say to their children, “Son, make a good choice” (they have 4 boys under the age of 5).  They are always emphasizing that their children, at each moment, have a choice to make, that they are not victims, and that they as parents are giving their children the freedom to make that choice.

What Fay and Cline would say is that by allowing the children to choose, and therefore to fail at times, we let the natural consequences teach the lesson, rather than our annoying nagging voice.  At times, artificial consequences may have to be created if a certain behavior doesn’t have immediate consequences, but as much as possible, they suggest parents provide controlled choices, and let the consequences speak for themselves.  It sounds a bit fishy huh? I mean how can that really work? They then go on to provide 41 real life scenarios, ranging in age from 11 months to 18 years, and give examples of how to put this principle into practice.  I’m already finding myself thinking through how I talk to Dutch, giving him opportunities rather than barking orders.  Obviously at his age the choices are still pretty limited (yogurt or banana, which book to read, which toy to take to the park, play nicely with us or play by himself in his room).

The thing that strikes me as so powerful about this concept is that this is how our Heavenly Father parents us.  Who is a better example of loving perfect parenting than our Father?  He does not force us to obey. He doesn’t even outrightly punish us.  He let’ the natural consequences of our actions (and the hindrance to fellowship with Him), drive us back to obedience.  It is through the painful consequences of our actions that we see the error of our ways.  Yes, He reveals His will to us through His Word, the same way that we as parents reveal our will to our children, through expressing (not nagging) what the best choice would be. But does he turn the hammer into a noodle right before we smash our finger?  No, he let’s us smash our finger.  He does step in occasionally, as He sees fit in His infinite wisdom, to protect us from harm, but in the everyday things of life He lets the natural laws of nature run their course.

This is connected to so much more than parenting. I just graded 25 Theology papers on “How can a good God allow so much evil in the world?”  Theodicies abound, but the parenting principle above really sums up the answer.  True choice necessitates the possibility of evil. It is not evil in itself, but it requires an alternative to what is good.  By allowing evil, God is acting as a good parent, allowing the natural consequences of our actions to draw us to Him.  Yes, it’s not that simple … but it almost is.

So, I’d recommend Parenting with Love and Logic.  It’s available at most libraries, so go check it out.  Although, I’m not telling you to…the choice is yours.