Early in 1977 I began to grow a human and on October 27th, she was handed to me with the expectation that I would be able to continue to grow her into adulthood with minimum casualties. Five months later, the process began again and in January of 1979 the second human was handed to me to nurture and train and keep alive until he was able to manage life on his own. Neither came with a manual and both spoke a foreign language, called CRY. That was their sole method of communication. And we were left to sort out the meaning.
Eventually we were able to teach them our language and our
communication improved greatly. There were still glitches, however, that would
cause us to revert to our separate, native tongues so, of course, we would speak louder and
they would cry louder and nothing would be resolved. Then we would remember that the most effective way to communicate was with the language of LOVE.
Almost a decade after the first baby, we were handed a beautiful 9 month old baby girl and
given the opportunity to learn yet another dialect. It happened again in 1989
when a tiny 13 day old baby boy was placed in my arms. We were more experienced
in the language of love by then and were speaking it fluently, so we set aside
our native tongue for the time being and simply spoke the language of love.
That was necessary, I reasoned, because these two came with scars and hurts and
heritages that were not ours. They could not learn our language until they experienced
our love.
As precious as that sounds, I have to be honest. Although I
do speak decent LOVE, because that was my Dad’s first language, I am also fluent
in guilt and shame, disappointment and fear. This was my mom’s
first language because she learned it from her Dad. I used her language too, reasoning
as she did that if I poured on the guilt, they would feel shame and turn from
their wicked ways. And disappointment? Who doesn’t crumble under the weight of
that? Once they are a pile of rubble, you can rebuild them into the child they should
have been. Right? If the kids didn’t respond to GUILT, SHAME, or DISAPPOINTMENT,
there was always the authoritative language of FEAR. It is a humbling thing to look back at all
those wrongs I committed against my wonderful children, truly thinking I was
taking the high road, helping them to get back on the right path.
Sunday Chris shared an awesome parenting message from 1 Kings 19. It
is a beautiful demonstration of God caring for Elijah like a loving father.
Elijah was exhausted and hungry and discouraged and scared out of his mind. His
life was being threatened and it didn’t matter that he had just witnessed the
power and might of God in a miraculous way. By rights, God could have pulled out the
DISAPPOINTMENT card and crushed his servant for so quickly forgetting all God
had done and failing to put his trust in Him. He could have poured on the SHAME
for walking away from the faith that had carried him through so many difficult
situations. But. He. Didn’t. Rather, God ministered to him in his brokenness
and allowed him to rest in the cave that was his physical refuge and when he
awoke, He sent an angel to prepare a meal for him, after which he allowed more
time to rest.
What a wonderful parenting lesson we can learn from God’s
gracious kindness in this story. God could see that Elijah had physical, mental
and emotional needs. God accepted the fear that was real to Elijah. He
recognized the exhaustion from constantly having to stand against all the wickedness
of his people. And He spoke to Elijah in His native tongue. LOVE. There was no
condemnation. Just a nap and a snack.
We all have a choice in how we parent and in the language we
choose. If you aren’t fluent in speaking love, spend more time with those who
are. Listen. Observe. Take notes. Learn to speak with loving kindness to your
children and your spouse. Home is where it matters most. These are your people;
your tribe. These are the people with whom you have the greatest influence, so...
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