Archives for August 2009

Lee was out until late last night taking care of a sick baby in the hospital. You would think I would have taken the time to write one of the ten posts I’ve been thinking of. Maybe cleaned the kitchen better? Or gone to sleep at a decent hour? No, I did none of these things. However, I have had a cup of coffee and a good quiet time with my Bible this morning, and since the children are not awake yet, I am ready to write before getting started on the rest of my day.

Here’s the question I’ve been pondering, and it rather relates to a conception I had before I became a mother, that the best mothers use a gentle tone of voice for any reprimand of their children, no matter how serious. Is there any occasion where a godly mother will righteously and effectively raise her voice when reprimanding her children? I imagine Caroline Ingalls saying in a slow voice, “Girls…” and knowing that on the outside at least, all the Ingalls children quickly stepped back in the line of good and right. On the other hand, my own mother, whom I hold in deepest regard, did on occasion raise her voice. I remember clearly that for at least some of those occasions, it served to demonstrate to me the seriousness of my offense, even though I didn’t completely understand exactly why it was a problem. In other cases, I remember thinking about everything except the lecture. Perhaps the intensity was appropriate, but it was not necessarily effectual.

Here are a few scenarios:

• Several children are making a great deal of noise in the car and cannot hear a normal tone of voice instructing them to be quiet.
• A young child is swinging a metal chain around a group of children.
• A young child has impulsively run out in a busy street to get a ball.
• A young child accepts candy from a strange adult at the park.
• A young child is biting offensive peers in retaliation.
• A teenage girl has stayed out late innocently chatting with her coworkers after work, while mom and dad sit at home worrying.
• Parents find out that a teenage son has been accessing inappropriate images on the computer.

Here’s what I’m thinking. In many, if not all of these cases, children may not truly understand the gravity of the offense. To them, the offense is the same as a relatively minor infraction even though in some of these cases, the offense has grave potential consequences. An occasional raised voice can be very helpful in signalling to them the importance of obedience and trust in a particular matter. We sometimes say that there are no differences among sins, but beyond a basic acknowledgement that Christ died for all sins equally, it is not biblical to suggest that God does not dislike some sins more than others or that all sins have equal consequences.

In fact, passages such as Proverbs 6 lose their meaning if we suggest that the writer’s use of abomination is hyperbole when refering to God’s attitude toward certain sins. Knowing that God HATES a proud look does help me understand its importance to Him, especially since I don’t readily see this sin as something of significant destructiveness in my life.

My tendency as a mom is to be intense (raise my voice) too often. I do struggle sometimes with selfish anger at my children’s sins. Because of my tendency to be self-deceived and selfish, I desperately need to be walking in the spirit, to be seeking for wisdom in my dealings with my children. Yet, it does not follow that it is impossible or undesirable to raise a voice or be righteously angry with our children on occasion.

There are six things that the LORD hates,
seven that are an abomination to him:
haughty eyes, a lying tongue,
and hands that shed innocent blood,
a heart that devises wicked plans,
feet that make haste to run to evil,
a false witness who breathes out lies,
and one who sows discord among brothers.

Proverbs 6:16-19

When Laurel turned two, in a fit of self-righteousness, I threw away an odd assortment of  sippee cups. The children really didn’t need them. Besides, I’ve always held that children who never drink out of regular cups never learn how to drink out of regular cups. So we primarily used some wide-bottomed juice glasses for their drinks. They got their juice, and I felt like an enlightened mother, especially when I saw school-aged children toting those cups at restaurants and at the park. Shocking, isn’t it?

I can see the Type A mothers smiling, because they’d much rather have a child with a sippee cup than spilled milk or broken glass, right? Well, in case you were doubting, I am not a Type A mother. I do not cry over spilled milk.

But I do have pride in my life.

My girls have been asking for new sippee cups for about six months. I’ve been resisting, Scot that I am, to spend money when they obviously had no need for sippee cups. (Haven’t they been using regular cups with only ocassional spills?) Actually, it was pride, not stewardship. Last week I finally bought two sippee cups, much to the delight of my daughters, and still I’ve been annoyed that they use them. That’s also pride, even though I didn’t call it that.

Sippee cups are not the reason for this post. Really, a mother is no more or less spiritual for choosing a particular cup. Pride, on the other hand, is insidious. It creeps in our lives, even as we are wailing about our inadequacy in one breath, and congratulating ourselves  for our good sense, exclusive understanding, or great spiritual maturity in the next.

Pray with me today that God reveals our pride, because God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.

Yesterday was a good day. We took a long drive to visit the Smokey Bear Park, and the kids had fun and did well. We talked all the way up the mountain, and they slept all the way down. Laurel has been asking questions about God for awhile. Why did God die? Why did God make us? I gave her a one-sentence answer, and she complained. Mom, tell me more. It’s good for the older kids, because then we talk about things that they are interested in, but have forgotten to ask. I am thankful for one child who asks spiritual questions out loud.

We talked about angels. Bethel wanted to know if people became angels when they died. (We read a book where the children told each other that their dead mother was an angel, and even though we talked about it then, she wanted to hear it again in the context of our discussion.) I think David even asked a question.

On the way home, while the children slept, I had awhile to think and pray. It was good, enough to make me think a mother should take a long trip by herself every once in awhile. At least she should take a trip to the local coffee shop! We sometimes feel suspicious of mothers who have to “get away,” but it’s not entirely a bad idea on occasion.

Today has been a day for whining. By nine thirty, I have sent one child to play in her bedroom. One child is riding his bike (excess energy = irritibility and irritating). One child is much improved without any other children to interact with. Even Mollie the dog has been restless and whiny.  School will have to wait until naptime.

Me? I need to get my Bible out again and try to read it.