For some time now, I have been asking the Lord about some roots that have taken place in my life. I've been trying to figure out why I behave in certain ways, and why I think the way I think. Some of those roots are quite unhealthy, namely my not-so-stellar track record in the dating/relationship department. All of the men I have been in serious relationships with have had one thing in common. They would tell me they loved me, cared about me, didn't want to hurt me, etc., but then they would act in ways that were definitely not loving, and sometimes not even kind. I stuck around in each relationship far beyond what any emotionally healthy person would or should. I would get hurt by their actions, confront them, then they would apologize, profess their love, and we would make up. I believed their words, and I refused to believe their actions. Obviously, I was the common denominator in these relationships, but in the two years since my divorce, I've been searching for the root of why I would stick around in these unhealthy relationships.
The other day while I was talking to Mikayla, God seriously hit me up the side of the head with a truth so real that I was left speechless.
"Mommy?" Mikayla's sweet voice asked as we drove in the car.
"Yes, my love?" I responded.
"Dylan is really mean to me," she confided in me.
"Oh, honey! I am so sorry he is mean to you. What does he say to you that is mean?"
"He tells me that I'm ugly and no one wants to be my friend," her sadness was evident as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Oh, honey, You know that you're not ugly, and did you know that most boys say mean things to girls because they secretly like them?" I comforted her.
And there is was. I was stopped in my tracks. That - right there - was the lie I believed my entire life: Boys who are mean to you secretly like you.
My mind raced as I thought about all the boys who were mean to me since I was five years old. Every time I would come home crying because some boy made fun of me or teased me or pulled my pony tail, my mom would comfort me and tell me that it was because they thought I was beautiful, or they had a crush on me, or they liked me and didn't know how to show their true feelings. Obviously, I release my mother from any responsibility, because she was doing what any mother would do: comfort her crying and hurt daughter the best way she knows how. And she wasn't the only one who unwittingly helped perpetuate this lie of the enemy. Teachers, school administrators, youth pastors, friends all have told me very similar things about boys who were mean to me growing up. I was even telling my own daughter the same thing.
But it's a lie! Boys are mean to girls because they don't know how to treat a girl. And perhaps they are just jerks. That's the bottom line. Boys aren't mean to girls because they like them, and they aren't mean to girls because they think they are pretty.
After realizing all of this, I thought about how this seemingly small "comforting" line that mothers across the globe tell their daughters is creating a foothold for the enemy to set up young girls for a string of failed relationships. Then I thought about how it applied to my life.
I believed the lie. I believed that a boy's actions don't matter. I believed that if a boy was mean to me, that meant he secretly liked me; he just didn't know how to express his true feelings. And it suddenly all made sense. It made sense why I stuck around. It made sense why I continually forgave and forgot their transgressions against me. It made sense why it was a continuous cycle. It made sense why I kept repeating the same mistake in each relationship. I thought their actions didn't matter. But they do.
"You know what, Honey?" I started to correct myself. "Some boys are just mean to girls, because they haven't been taught how to treat girls."
"Yeah," is all Mikayla replied.
"How do you think you could show Dylan some kindness tomorrow?"
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Friday, January 2, 2015
Preparing You for the Path
One of my favorite parenting and teaching questions is, "Are you preparing your child for the path, or are you preparing the path for your child?" When I first heard this question, I envisioned this path through a thick jungle that is full of rocks, tree branches, and tree trunks fallen over onto the dirt path. As it winds through the dense mass of trees and vines, I see parents stopping their children every few steps and picking up a boulder and tossing off the path for their child. Or maybe the parent has a machete in their hand, and the parent quickly cuts the branches away from the path, so that when the child walks the path, it is free and clear of any obstacle.
Will this create a happy child? Most definitely. A child with a cleared path can frolic and play to his heart's content along that path. However, he will also grow up with the belief that the path should always be cleared for him. He will believe that life is easy, and that it isn't his responsibility to clear his own path. And when the path isn't clear for him, it will be confusing and upsetting. Clearing that path for your child will create a miserable and frustrated teen and adult. Life simply is not a free and clear path. There are bumps, and rocks, and logs, and sometimes there are lakes we have to swim. And sometimes, there is no path at all.
We only have 18 years to teach our children, then that's it. Our reach on them is over. Once they are an adult, they are theoretically on their own. But many parents (the path-clearing ones) usually find that their children are poorly equipped to enter the world as adults.
Why is it so hard to teach our children to clear their own path? Because we hate to see the struggle. It's heartbreaking to watch my precious daughter drop that huge boulder she's trying so hard to clear out of her path. I know that I can just go over there and grab it for her. It would be so easy for me to clear the path for her. It's not that big of a rock to me. But does God do that for us? Does he take away our struggles and just “fix it” for us? Sometimes, yes—God gives us miracles. But the vast majority of the time, there is a reason for our struggles.
Romans 12:12 tells us, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” We are refined and made whole through our struggles. God never promises us a clear or easy path. He actually says in Zechariah 13:9, “This third I will put into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The LORD is our God.’”
Sometimes those struggles bring us to a place in life that is more joyous than we could ever imagine—precisely because of those struggles. Removing struggles from our kids’ lives isn’t the answer, because how can we possibly teach our children who God is, if we don’t model how God is?
Preparing your child for the path is a completely different concept. I walk the path with my child. As a boulder comes up in her path, I'm there with her, but I empower her to move it herself. "Wow. That's a big rock in your path. What do you think you could do to get it out of your way?" The responsibility is now hers. She can respond how she sees fit. Maybe I know her suggestion won't work. But I still let her try. "That didn't work well, did it? What's another option you could use?" I'm not giving her answers, nor am I clearing the path for her. The next time she encounters a similar boulder, she will know what to do without having to ask me.
This is not unlike God in our lives. He gave us free will—and He will let us fail again and again. God is ok with us choosing the wrong path. It grieves His heart, but He knows He is still God. Do we do the same thing when giving our children choices? Are we truly ok with them making the wrong decision? Or do we intervene with a mandate or ultimatum? Again, how can we teach our children about who God is, if we aren’t ok with them making the wrong choice? I’m not saying we condone the bad choices, and I’m definitely not saying there shouldn’t be consequences for wrong or bad choices. But what I am saying is that I have to be ok with who I am and who my child is—and allow her the freedom to make those choices on her own, then deal with the consequences—or blessings—of those choices.
Obviously, there will be times where the tree trunk in her path will be entirely too big for her to move out of her path on her own. I will be there to partner with her. She will come up with the plan; I will help, and we will clear it together. Similarly, God tells us He will “never leave us or forsake us,” Deuteronomy 31:6. He never tells us we won’t have troubles.
All too often in teaching, I see students whose parents have been clearing the path for their child their whole life. When confronted with boulders or tree trunks in their path, the students are clueless as to how to clear the path. They look at me as their teacher, and they get upset with me for placing a boulder in their path. They get frustrated that I don't clear it for them. It breaks my heart that some of these kids are so helpless and powerless to forge their own way.
It takes more time; it takes more patience, and it takes more grace to allow your child to clear his or her own path. But in the end, it's undoubtedly the most loving thing to do.
Will this create a happy child? Most definitely. A child with a cleared path can frolic and play to his heart's content along that path. However, he will also grow up with the belief that the path should always be cleared for him. He will believe that life is easy, and that it isn't his responsibility to clear his own path. And when the path isn't clear for him, it will be confusing and upsetting. Clearing that path for your child will create a miserable and frustrated teen and adult. Life simply is not a free and clear path. There are bumps, and rocks, and logs, and sometimes there are lakes we have to swim. And sometimes, there is no path at all.
We only have 18 years to teach our children, then that's it. Our reach on them is over. Once they are an adult, they are theoretically on their own. But many parents (the path-clearing ones) usually find that their children are poorly equipped to enter the world as adults.
Why is it so hard to teach our children to clear their own path? Because we hate to see the struggle. It's heartbreaking to watch my precious daughter drop that huge boulder she's trying so hard to clear out of her path. I know that I can just go over there and grab it for her. It would be so easy for me to clear the path for her. It's not that big of a rock to me. But does God do that for us? Does he take away our struggles and just “fix it” for us? Sometimes, yes—God gives us miracles. But the vast majority of the time, there is a reason for our struggles.
Romans 12:12 tells us, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” We are refined and made whole through our struggles. God never promises us a clear or easy path. He actually says in Zechariah 13:9, “This third I will put into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The LORD is our God.’”
Sometimes those struggles bring us to a place in life that is more joyous than we could ever imagine—precisely because of those struggles. Removing struggles from our kids’ lives isn’t the answer, because how can we possibly teach our children who God is, if we don’t model how God is?
Preparing your child for the path is a completely different concept. I walk the path with my child. As a boulder comes up in her path, I'm there with her, but I empower her to move it herself. "Wow. That's a big rock in your path. What do you think you could do to get it out of your way?" The responsibility is now hers. She can respond how she sees fit. Maybe I know her suggestion won't work. But I still let her try. "That didn't work well, did it? What's another option you could use?" I'm not giving her answers, nor am I clearing the path for her. The next time she encounters a similar boulder, she will know what to do without having to ask me.
This is not unlike God in our lives. He gave us free will—and He will let us fail again and again. God is ok with us choosing the wrong path. It grieves His heart, but He knows He is still God. Do we do the same thing when giving our children choices? Are we truly ok with them making the wrong decision? Or do we intervene with a mandate or ultimatum? Again, how can we teach our children about who God is, if we aren’t ok with them making the wrong choice? I’m not saying we condone the bad choices, and I’m definitely not saying there shouldn’t be consequences for wrong or bad choices. But what I am saying is that I have to be ok with who I am and who my child is—and allow her the freedom to make those choices on her own, then deal with the consequences—or blessings—of those choices.
Obviously, there will be times where the tree trunk in her path will be entirely too big for her to move out of her path on her own. I will be there to partner with her. She will come up with the plan; I will help, and we will clear it together. Similarly, God tells us He will “never leave us or forsake us,” Deuteronomy 31:6. He never tells us we won’t have troubles.
All too often in teaching, I see students whose parents have been clearing the path for their child their whole life. When confronted with boulders or tree trunks in their path, the students are clueless as to how to clear the path. They look at me as their teacher, and they get upset with me for placing a boulder in their path. They get frustrated that I don't clear it for them. It breaks my heart that some of these kids are so helpless and powerless to forge their own way.
It takes more time; it takes more patience, and it takes more grace to allow your child to clear his or her own path. But in the end, it's undoubtedly the most loving thing to do.
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