A Mother-Daughter Testimony: Part 1 (aka “God is Enough”)

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My oldest daughter is preparing to go on a mission trip to Mexico this coming spring break.  As she is preparing, she is supposed to write out her testimony of God’s work in her life.  Through the discussion of God working in her life, she shared with me the time when God shifted from being my God, to being HER God.  As we shared both of our sides, we were both astonished at the hand of God at work in our family.  Tears streamed down both of our faces as we saw God’s handiwork on our relationship with each other and with him in a way we had not seen before.  

After that, I started sharing with some of my mom-friends what came of that difficult situation with our family, and the response was overwhelming that it was so encouraging for moms with preteen daughters and I asked my 13 year old if she was comfortable with sharing on this blog both her side and my side of this testimony of God at work.  We discussed the exposure possibilities in that, and she agreed, because she just wants to shine a light on any scale of what God has done for her.  So here’s the first side of the testimony.

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From the mother’s side:

My daughter is a type-A, list maker.  She’s the good kid.  She’s the kid you want to be friends and a good influence in your kid.

Our family went through some hard years.  Her younger brother, 15 months younger than her, had been a colic-y baby.  He was a high maintenance toddler.  While she did everything right, prim and proper, reading books, helping others, he was destroying something, was dyslexic, and struggled to even sit still.

Around the time that Silje was 9 years old, our family was in a car accident.  The kids were fine, with some minor medical follow ups.  I was left with chronic pain.  It was an invisible injury.  Most people had no idea how much pain I had constantly.  I had limited options with pain medicine.  I feel like I asked for a lot of help, and I ended up being told by quite a few people that I just wasn’t trying hard enough, wasn’t organized enough, or I just needed to suck it up for my family.

This season of unmanaged, chronic, debilitating pain left some major gaps in our home, and started a cascade of panic attacks for me.  At that point, my husband stepped up and almost put a fence around me and guarded me from many obligations and opinions so I had a chance to catch a breath and figure out how to manage this pain.  But for those months with little help, and lots of judgment, my little Silje, my oldest child, took a lot on her little shoulders.  She took on way more than a child her age should take on.  She wanted to help.  In all honesty, she was a huge help.  She was amazing.  She was an old soul.

When my pain started to get managed, 1-2 years after the accident, her younger brother’s health started to spiral.  All of a sudden, there were psychologist appointments, pediatrician appointments, dermatology appointments, naturopathic appointments.  He had to be put on a special diet that was all brand new to me.  I was busy managing him, his doctors, and trying to collaborate efforts.  In the mean time, he was a scary person to live with.

When all the diagnosis’s were in, and his health got under control and we started to see drastic improvements to his health, Silje started to falter.  She was no longer “the good kid.”  She had to share the “good job” compliments from her parents.

She started to be angry all the time.  She started to lie, and cover up things that weren’t even worth covering up.  She started acting scared, frustrated, and just plain mean.

The first thing I did was attempt to remove a lot of the jobs from her shoulders that should have never been hers.  Instead of relief, she felt like it was a slap in the face.  Had I not thought she had done well?  Am I just saying that she’s a failure?

I read a lot of books.  My 2 favorite were Parenting is Heart Work and Age of Opportunity, and I still recommend those 2 frequently.   Older mothers advised me to pour lots of conversation with her, and I listened.  We talked, and talked and talked.  I used many of the techniques in the above mentioned books, and sometimes, it felt like she was really getting better.  We’d stay up until midnight many times, just talking about who she is in Christ, and how much she is loved, and how grace also means rest.  Rest is not a punishment.

But then the next day, she would be cruel again.  Whenever her younger brother started to succeed in something, she would spit words at him that were like turning a knife in his autoimmune-dyslexic-ADHD-sensory processing wound.  She hated him at every milestone he passed and would cry if he did a good job.

She was supposed to be the good one.  She couldn’t stand him getting better.  She knew that wasn’t right, and she would then turn the cruelty inward and beat herself up.

What’s a mother to do?  This grew into her just despising all of her younger siblings.  She hated sharing a room.  She hated sharing me.  I responded by giving her even more of my time. We were having these long, 2-4 hour conversations 4-5 times a week after everyone else went to bed.  My husband was missing seeing me.  I was all-in to reach her heart.  We went on dates during the day.  I would do things with her on the weekends.  We did a little weekend trips together.  I spent probably 1/2 my time as a mother with her, and the other 1/2 with my other 4 kids (at that time).  I would ask some older women for advice and got “she’s probably jealous that you spend so much time with the younger kids” or “if you sent her to public school, she’ll get over this.  She probably just needs space.”  I struggled through all these thoughts.

The more time I gave to her, the more she felt entitled to.  The more treats or dates I gave to her just upped what she expected to be the norm.  She started getting angrier and angrier as I could not keep up, nor could my marriage handle me devoting my life to this one, very angry child. 

We started doing a Bible study together.  We started memorizing scripture together.  We talked about how God wants us to love our neighbor, love our enemy.  Every time we talked about loving others, she would get defensive and combative, like she wasn’t going to fall for it.  Stand up for herself.  That’s what she thought she had to do.  Be #1.  Somehow get to the top again.  We started a journal of writing to each other back and forth of letters and feelings.  I hoped that would control the time-sharing issue so I could spend time with my other kids.  I tried absolutely everything to reach her heart, and I just couldn’t seem to touch it.

I started praying for her using the prayer system a friend of mine told me about.  One morning, I told God in exhaustion in my heart that I can’t seem to be enough for her.  I’m finite.  I have a finite amount of time.  I have many people I’m responsible for, not just her.  I’m just not enough to go around.

“You’re not supposed to be enough for her.” Was the thought that came to me when I was praying.  “If you were enough to heal your daughter’s heart, than she wouldn’t need me [God].  You’re not enough on purpose.  It’s so that she can see that I’m enough.”

I went back to the tools that I learned after lots of counseling and saw that I had some bad boundaries with my daughter.  I needed to back up and ask what God, in his Word, required of me to do.  I needed to rest in the fact that I had planted the seeds that God had asked me to plant, and it was time to wait, step aside, and let him have his turn.  I continued to have conversations with her, but I cut her off at 9pm, and told her to go to bed.  I started spending more time with my other kids.  I started writing less.  I started spending more time with my husband.

I explained to her over and over again that I am not the person to fix her heart: God was.  I started clearing her schedule so that she would have time alone in her room to spend with the Lord.  Pretty soon, almost every time that she came to me with fire and anger in her eyes I would say, “I can relate to what you are feeling. I feel that way a lot myself.  But I’m not the person to talk to about this.  This is a problem for God.  Go up to your room.  Give it to God.”

“But MOM! I don’t feel like praying! I’m mad!!”

“Then tell God you’re mad.  Yell at him even.  He can take it.  I promise you he can take it.  He’s not asking for your prim and pretty prayers.  He wants your gut-wrenching honest prayers.  If you’re ready to get real with God, go pray about it.”

There was one argument in particular, when I opened my big, fat mouth and said probably too much. The conversation haunted me for a long time.  I usually apologize quickly when I lose my temper, but I didn’t even know if what I said was right or wrong.  I felt so lost.  This is my first teenager; I have no idea what I’m doing.  I told her I didn’t see any evidence of Jesus working in her life.   With tears brimming in her eyes, she said “Do you think I’m not a Christian?  Is that what you’re saying?”

I said, “I can’t see your heart, and that’s something that is between you and God.  But I’ll tell you what.  The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control.  I haven’t seen that fruit in you in a long time, and whenever we study Scripture together you bristle and feel like you’re being manipulated, rather then fed the good bread of his Word.  You take no joy or nourishment from it.  Honestly, I’m scared.  I’m really scared that you’re not just pushing me away, but you’re pushing God away.  It’s like I can visibly see your heart hardening.  Run to Jesus, Honey.  Run into his arms; you are safe there.  You are looking for me to fix your broken heart, but I’m not able to do that, only he can.  You can’t get that from me, as much as I love you.  You can trust his Word, Honey.  You can trust it with your life.”

Then I told her to go to her room to read and pray about it.

I sent her to her room, over and over again over the next several weeks.  Not as punishment, but as an opportunity to spend time in prayer and reading her Bible.  Sometimes I would have her sit in my chair in my room where I prayed, and I would have her read my prayers for her.  That always softened her at least temporarily.  Sometimes I would pray with her, or for her, or over her.  But taking it to God consistently was the new plan.

Sometimes she would say, “But Mom, aren’t you going to…?”

I would respond: “Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ll pray about it.  If God wants me to get involved in that situation of yours, I’ll let you know.”  Then I would address her problem in the next day or two.  But I wouldn’t address it until she had brought her situation to God first.

Go to God.  Give it to God.  Talk to God.  That problem is for God, not me.  It’s too big for me.

REPEAT

This became my mantra.  She hated me for it at first.  She felt like I was pushing her away.

In a way, I was.  I was pushing her to God.  I could no longer be her god.  I think there comes to a point in every child’s life when they have to transfer bringing everything to their parents, to bringing everything to God.  Perhaps it can look more graceful than this, perhaps not.

When Silje started writing out her testimony, she pointed to this time of me pushing her towards God as when she really started seeing God work on her own heart.  She remembered that haunting conversation, and how it was like a slap in the face, and at that point, she had no idea what to do other than pray to God about how much it hurt.  She said it started slow.  She said it was really gradual.  But gradually, she started to see her family through the eyes of compassion.  Gradually, she learned that she can make a mistake, and she’s still loved.  Gradually, she learned to relax, and give grace to others.  It was that daily, chipping away, time with God when her view of God wasn’t through my eyes, but through her own.

Mamas, when you feel like you aren’t enough, maybe it’s because you are trying to be too much.  Maybe you are trying to play god instead of trusting God.  Everything I was doing were “good things.”  Good things done in fear can become bad things.  Were those the things that God had called me to do?  Was I fixing my eyes on Jesus?  Well, eventually, I did.

God is enough.  He is enough for us.  He is enough for our kids.  He makes our enough, enough.

Learning Dependence

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We took the month of December off of school, and boy did I need it.  We got through about 5 days of Advent readings.  I really dropped the ball in that area this year.

This year of tight schedules, running around, feeling like my new job was that of air traffic controller to these 6 kids and a husband in my house.  The margin available for error is small these days.  My errors, though, stay the same, and I’m constantly in catch up mode.

So I did what a lot of introverts do when they are over-spent.  I retreated, became introspective, reflective, and pretty much became a horrible friend.  I let commitments that meant a lot to me drop.  Through all that, one of my dearest friends was moving to the other side of the globe, and I could barely make myself return calls to her, because I knew those calls were setting up our “last goodbye” for a few years.  I didn’t want to say goodbye, so I retreated.  (We did eventually say goodbye, and I’m still recovering.)

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As I took the month to pause, and regroup, I found myself terrified by what I saw in me.  Writers block hit with greater force than it has in years.  I started to question God about some big things, and then I stopped showing up to hear his answers, because I figured I already knew what they were, and I didn’t like them.  I went into avoidance mode.

God, in his goodness, still pursued me.  He even still worked through me.  As I timidly walked into obedience in one area of my life, and started ministering to some other women, as well as my own daughter, I started having these amazingly deep conversations and was able to encourage people to seek Jesus’ face, as he is the author and perfecter of our faith.  Through these acts of ministry, God was relentlessly preaching to me, using the words that I was speaking to others.

I don’t think God gets angry when we quietly back up with timidity.  He is patient.  I find that with many of the women I speak with, they are afraid to pray what is really on their hearts.  They want to present their best to God, and appear before him unblemished.  They want to get their act together, and show God that they are listening and obedient.

Everything changed in my spiritual walk with God when I learned to present to God my ugly.  When I tell God the truth about my feelings.  When I show God my hardness.  When I question him out loud.  When I tell him that I’m stuck in this trap of feelings and fear, and I can’t get out.

Because he always gets me out of the trap.  And I never have done so on my own.  Hiding the fact that I get trapped in fear and self-sufficiency is just an act of pretense, and God wants intimacy.  My real father is an alcoholic, and our relationship over the years has it’s bulk in pretense.  He pretends he’s fine, for my sake.  I suppose he feels he is protecting me.  What he never seems to realize is that our relationship would grow if he would just share his struggles, instead of hiding them.  I see no point to a relationship based on lies.  I don’t like to pretend to have a relationship, with pretend information.

But in order to be honest with me, he has to be honest with myself.  I continue to find myself in his shoes, as I face God.  If I want to be honest with God, I must face the truth of the ugliness within myself.  And that is easier said than done.

I think God feels the same way.  I think sometimes when I avoid spending time with God, it’s because I’m weary of pretending that I’m good, or having the right words or the right attitude.  It’s just the lie that I have to be good, and show my good to God.

We don’t go to God to please him, but to be changed by him.  

If we go to God to present this person that we wish we were, then the relationship lacks depth.  It has no intimacy.  We must come out of the darkness, into the light, and share the parts of our heart that we’d rather not.

The ugliness in my heart that I was struggling through, and God wouldn’t let me hide, no matter how much I tried, was on the topic of dependence.  I’ll likely be writing about this a lot in the new year.  It goes back to when I was beginning to have good days after my car accident, and I prayed to God the silly prayer, “I’m getting better.  Pretty soon I won’t need you so much anymore.” Then I heard my pride, and my stupidity, and instantly repented.

So the question I’ve been asking for the last several months is “What does dependence on God look like when there is no crisis?” When I’m in crisis, I’m on my knees.  I’m asking God for the practical.  I can only handle the present.

But when the crisis is past, we take joy and pride in “getting our life back in order.” We work hard to make sure we aren’t put in a position of dependence again.

And it felt like God was asking me to step out in faith.  He wanted to use me for his purposes, and I knew, I knew that would mean trouble.  I know that would require dependence.  I was thoroughly enjoying “handling stuff” myself.  I was in a pattern of self improvement and taking steps towards independence.  I was failing, but not failing bad enough to really reach out for God as much.

Praying “Whatever you want, Thy will be done” when I was a preteen was fine and dandy.  It changed my life and God brought me into a world I had never even imagined.  As a teen, young adult, and even a married woman, I have learned to pray “Thy will be done” and open my arms to whatever God wanted to do through me.

But now I have 6 children.  They depend on me.  They hold such extreme value.  They are more precious to me than I could have imagined.  Must I also hold them up to the Lord and say “Thy will be done?” God turned my life upside down every time I have prayed that.  He turned it upside down in such a extreme, but life-giving way.  He changes everything.

But these are my children.

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And if I pray “Thy will be done” now, will he catch me?

I no longer wanted to be a writer.  I no longer wanted to reach many for the gospel.  I started turning inward, and it scared me.  I just wanted my quiet family to be safe and secure.  I didn’t want to become big, and live under the criticism of others.  I didn’t want my words overanalyzed, and mis-taken.  Being misunderstood through my writing has happened before, and it’s one of the most painful things I’ve lived through.  I’m not a good enough writer to avoid it.

I began to believe that if I were to hold my family, my writing, my all to the Lord, and say “Thy will be done” that one of my children would die.  I know that sounds crazy, but let’s be honest and let the crazy all hang out.  I saw so many people telling stories of God’s faithfulness during the hardest of trials, and if I wanted a big ministry, it would mean God would show up big, and the biggest way he could possibly do that is through the deepest hurts.  And that’s the greatest hurt that I could imagine.  Stories of mothers losing their children, and how God showed up started flooding my ears on a daily basis, taunting me.

So I stepped back.  I asked God for promises that if I gave him just me, he wouldn’t touch my children, and he gave me none.  He reminded me that my children are already his to do with as he wills.  He just asked me to trust Him, and his goodness.  My imagination paralyzed me.

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I know God is good.  I know he loves me.  I know he is present with me always, because his presence is so thick and gentle in the midst of my home that he cannot be avoided.  He continued to let me speak to others.  He continued to let me speak truth to my friends and women around me.  Every time I encouraged one of them, I was preaching the gospel to myself.  Every time I shared with them a verse, it was one that God was giving to me.

Faith is sometimes declared as a resolution. I have only experienced that in an emotional state, but from a spiritual-real-life-gritty perspective, I have learned that faith is never something that I can conjure up within me.  It is a gift that God places within me, and I slowly yield to it’s goodness.  Sometimes I feel like a hardened child, who slowly relaxes within the strong embrace of her Father, and when I take that shaky deep breath is the moment of faith.

My word for 2016 was Abide.

I think I could easily use that same one this year.  Though from a slightly different angle, the word I cannot escape for 2017 is it’s synonym: Dependence.

The last few months, I’ve joined a writing group called Hope*Writers.  It has become a huge new source of encouragement and iron sharpening iron.  I haven’t felt so supported in my writing and crafting well since I was in college.  One of the dear friends I have met there, Heather, who is also a writer, encouraged me with these words over our Voxer group.  I replayed them over and over, and wrote them down: “God gives us the grace to walk through hard things, but he does not give us the grace for our imaginations.”

We can live in the “what if.” But truly, living there is not living at all.  God gives grace for hard and concrete situations.  He will be with us in the dark, and in the pain.  But God will not give us a pretend-relationship. He will not give us the answers to all the “what-ifs.”  He simply says “follow me.” It’s faith.  Faith not that everything will be perfect, but that God’s grace will be greater, sweeter, and more sustaining than anything Satan can throw at us.

I’m going to be learning this year what dependence looks like in all circumstances.  It will be the focus of my personal study this year.

As you, dear friends, walk into the New Year as well, and examine resolutions, goals, and this past year, I’ll leave you with this quote shared I happened across yesterday:

“God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible.  What a pity we plan only things we can do by ourselves.” -A.W. Tozer.  

Full Bloom

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These harvest days are long.  Do you ever feel like parts of your to-do list gets squeezed out consistently?  I have made some very intentional decisions regarding my family in the last year or so in regard to how we homeschool, and have laid out all of my goals.  I knew going into this year that I would have to sacrifice more, and it would cut deep.  It was not thrust on me.  I made the choice.

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These harvest days, Knut is not often there to support me at home, and in addition, needs support from me more than he usually does.  (I’ve actually been horrible at supporting him this harvest.  I’ll blame it on having a little infant, but really he’s not the issue.)  This year we are doing Classical Conversations for a homeschool co-op.  It’s all day once a week, and for a few of my kids, it requires more focus and time-sensitive assignments into their education, which was sorely lacking.  It’s brought me into contact with some wonderful new mom-friends.  It’s one of the best decisions we’ve made for our kids’ education, as I feel like I have the support, inspiration, and accountability I need to really thrive in this area right now.

Last year my kids’ activities grew with such speed, that I was floundering, and this year I’ve decided to embrace this season and stop fighting it.  I’m glad I did, because the focus and attention they have demanded from me these last few months bloomed into this enormous job that at times overwhelms me.

My writing has suffered.

I have been praying many times that I would keep my writing in correct priority to all the other work God has prepared for me to do.  As writing feels like it is getting squeezed out of my daily life, I’m praying so hard that God would keep me sane.  I miss writing like a dear friend.  I miss writing so much it’s suffocating at times.  My writing life isn’t gone.  It’s just that part of the daily list that is consistently getting squeezed off.

As I’m writing this right now, I’m sitting on the floor, at the end of a hall in the YMCA, listening to an aerobics class blaring on the other side of the door.  My big kids are doing their Tae Kwon Do.  My little kids are in child watch.  I’m trying to get my brain settled since it feels like I had at least 3 kids speaking to me at all times, since I woke up this morning.  It wasn’t 3 kids fault.  They all participated in “Operation Overload Mommy.”  They took shifts.

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I’ve asked God, in my not-so-quiet-times, if I shouldn’t be writing right now, and if I need to let go of the blog, to give me a peace about that.  However, just the opposite has happened.  Every time I pray about it, ideas just keep flowing out so fast that I’ve actually gotten a notebook to quick notes to come back to and expand.  It happens whenever I dare approach the throne of grace on this issue.  Ideas keep flowing for a group Bible Study book that I’ve been attempting to write.  I have ideas for a podcast, and spend some of my time trying to learn the software for that.  Learning new technology is painfully slow for me.  I sense God’s calling on my life even stronger in this area than ever.

So I just keep living each day, and reminding myself of my priorities.  I have gotten more organized than I have in my entire life…entirely by survival necessity. I’m aiming for excellence in so many areas, and as I see this writing dream of mine get squeezed out of my days, the vision for what God wants me to do gets bigger.  I can’t quiet explain it, other than to assume that not every day will be like right now.

12 years into this mothering journey, I’ve learned one main thing: the rhythm is constantly changing.  

There are seasons of naps, seasons of no naps. I’ll have seasons of loneliness and seasons of overwhelming fullness.  There are seasons of full schedules, and seasons of lazy days around the house.  There are seasons of awe, and seasons of frustration.  Sometimes the seasons are years.  Sometimes they are days.  Sometimes they feel like mere hours.

It seems I’m not allowed to give up my dreams, even though they’re not fitting so well in my current season.  As many times as I offer them up to God, he keeps growing them.  He keeps reminding me that he has not forgotten, and it’s not time yet.

So friends, the writing is coming slow, but I still relish in hearing from each of you.  I do try to pop over on Facebook and Instagram when I can.  Waiting on God is ridiculously simple right now as I’m too busy to wonder when I’ll have time for something.  But it’s just the season.  I’m not quite sure how long this season will last, or how quickly I should expect to switch gears.  Thankfully, I don’t need to know.  All I have time to do is to try to do the season in which I find myself as well as God’s grace allows.

Don’t give up on me, friends.  Feel free to email me or touch base on social media if you need to reach out to a friend.  I’m not always able to write back, but I always say a prayer for you.

6 Ways to Get your Kids to Do Their Work

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It is literally the hardest part of homeschooling.  Sometimes you have a child who just loves schoolwork like it’s chocolate.  They are delighted to sit at a desk, sharpen those pencils, and neatly write out their assignments.  They are eager and say, “Yes, Mommy.” or “Yes, Ma’am.”  They like things to look as school-ish as possible.

Then there’s the kids who look up at you, after you give them a fun and enthusiastic introduction to their assignment and they say: “No.  I don’t want to do that.”  They stare up at you with daring eyes that say: “Make me.”

Ever been there?  Ever have that child?

I have been there more times than I can count.  I have blamed it on curriculum and changed a billion times.  I’ve tried every method in the book.  Here’s what works.

1) Pray.

Pray for wisdom for both yourself and your child.  Remember, the Holy Spirit has access to your child’s heart that far exceeds your reach.  Pray for the right words, the right attitude, and a prepared heart.  Pray for eyes to see every situation as an opportunity to teach what needs to be learned that day, (whether or not it’s on the lesson plan).

2) Rule out learning problems.

I have learned that 90% of the time, when one of my kids says something is dumb, or I’m being mean, there’s a problem they are facing that I can’t see.  “The issue is not the issue” is a phrase I learned at a camp where I used to work.  It’s usually dyslexia is rearing it’s head, or they can’t see the page and need glasses, or they just plain forgot how to do it and don’t want to get into trouble and will misdirect.  Learning disabilities often look like laziness, because the kids don’t always know that the problem they are facing has solutions if you just knew about it.  But they get ashamed and will hide it.  Give them the benefit of the doubt and rule this out.  Doing this also helps you grow as a teacher, as you research left-brained vs. right-brained learning techniques, or exercises you can do together to get over humps in learning.

Edited to add:

Also take into account the maturity of your child.  I think among my circles, the most frustrated moms in this area are attempting to get 4 year olds to spend 5 hours in school to “get them ready.”  School is something fun and optional in our house until about age 7.  That’s the way Finland does it, it’s the way that some of the best minds in education recommend.  So in the early years we focus on quality play and character building.  With this system, some of my kids were reading chapter books before age 7, and some started reading just then, but built some pretty stellar Lego creations in the meantime, and started math 3 years ahead of their peers.  Please, please, please don’t force a little 5 year old to sit at a desk all day long, and when it falls apart say that homeschooling isn’t for you.  Let the kids play, and take into account the amount of work the maturity of your child can handle.  Maturity is one of those things that cannot be forced.

3) Think outside the box.

Do math in the treehouse, and jumping jacks during spelling.  Hold contests, set timers, be silly.  Sitting and writing all day is about the most boring way to learn, and unless your child is that unique one that is wired that way, don’t do it.  There are a million games out there, a million ways to learn and do things, don’t restrict yourself to the most boring, and consider that good teaching.  It’s not doing anyone any favors.

4) Let consequences fall.

This is my personal least favorite, and yet, I find myself back here over and over again.  Let’s say that you started your day with prayer and you’ve worked through the learning issues.  You bought the kid glasses.  You have a fun lesson planned, and the child looks up and you and says, “No.”

It’s times like this that I want to send my child to public school, just to show them that they MUST do school, and all the other kids HAVE TO do school, and while they can do it in a box or with a fox, or in the house with a mouse, they will do school one way or the other.  I have not yet done that, but I’m not ruling it out.

However, this isn’t something you are doing wrong.  This is your child’s choice.  He or she is making a bad choice.  Choices have consequences.  One of the common things our kids miss is the morning snack time.  If their morning work isn’t done by 10am, then they don’t get their snack.  Turning in your work is your meal ticket.  The same goes for lunch.  Sounds mean, but if you don’t work, you don’t eat.  If your afternoon work isn’t done, you have to stay in your room until it’s done while the rest of the family gets to go outside and play.  Family movie night?  That stinks.  Your work isn’t done, so you’ll have to be in your room while the rest of us who did our work enjoy the movie and eat popcorn downstairs.

Nothing gets me worked up as a mother, and flares my temper more than my child feeling entitled to all that is around him/her.  

I plan lots of fun things.  I want us as a family to work hard and play hard.  But when you don’t work, you don’t get the reward.  Plain and simple.  School is their job, just like teaching is mine.

I have found that the child will quickly shift blame to me when this happens, as though I’m just being mean.  The more in control I am with my emotions, the more I can get the message through that they have bad consequences from their bad choices.  The more you remove bad consequences, the more entitled they will feel.  Let the punishment fit the crime as often as possible.

This is hard because it will effect the whole family.  Sometimes the family has to stay home from a field trip because one child is making a bad choice.  Sometimes you miss out on date night because one child is acting up.  Sometimes you miss out on your down time because they finally come to their senses when you finally sit down with a cup of tea.

The fact is, it’s not just a bad choice, it’s sin.  Sin hurts other people.  Their sin is hurting you, and others, and as a family, we have to pray for a forgiving spirit.  You can try to contain that hurt as much as possible, but the fact remains: sin hurts others and yourself.  It never just hurts yourself.  When your child sees that, it will make a lasting impact as well.

5) Grab a leadership partner, outside the home.

Our kids’ Tae Kwon Do instructor is amazing.  I have sent her desperate texts more than once, and she has spoken with my kids more than once.  Other parents have a Sunday School teacher, or baseball coach or piano tutor that their child really respects.  When you and your spouse are pulling out your hair, wondering if you are actually crazy, and why can’t you get through to this kid, grab another adult that your child respects to chime in.  Whether it’s a psychologist or pastor, let them know that work is not optional is a universal concept, not just one in your home.  Concepts like respect should be consistent in all of your child’s activities.  When your child sees that work is not only necessary to get the perks in your home, but it will start effecting their baseball, their dance, or their gymnastics, they often snap out of it.

6) Weep with those who weep.

While movie nights and participation in sports is conditional in our home, love is not.  It’s so important that my kids know that my love for them is unconditional.  However, they will try to convince me that love means that I will do whatever they want and make their life easy and perfect.  That’s not love.  We must teach them the definition of love from a Biblical perspective, not a feel-good (feelings) perspective.  When my child is crying because he/she doesn’t want to do something, I will come beside them and hug them, saying I know it’s hard.  When they have to stay home from something because they couldn’t get their work done on time because they refused to do it for 3 hours, I will cry with them.

I remember what it felt like to realize that I failed a test, or I didn’t get my homework done in time.  It’s this pit in your stomach, and you feel awful.  When what you did sinks in and the shame is overwhelming, it’s amazing to have someone next to you, with their arms around you saying “This stinks.  But I will walk it with you.”

This is will make blaming you for their choices nearly impossible.  It solidifies in their mind the fact that their choices produce good or bad consequences.  It also solidifies that you will love them and be there for them through thick and thin.  You will be there with them in the movie nights, and you will be there with them when they are grounded in their room.

Once, a child of mine was sent to their room after mouthing off to us after they realized that their misuse of time would prevent them from going to a birthday party.  There were many tears.  I brought them up their supper on a tray, with a little flower on it.  I brought them their food, and said at the door, “I thought you might be hungry.  I know this is a huge disappointment.    I’ll be available downstairs to help you finish so that tomorrow can be a fresh day without you being behind.  I hate it when I realize that my laziness has cost me something too.  I know what you’re going through.”

Weep with them.  Comfort them.  That’s completely different than removing all consequences.  It’s walking through consequences with them, and takes them completely off guard.

Walking through it with them will cost you something.  It will hurt sometimes.  Let’s not forget that love = sacrifice, and laying your life down for another takes many forms.  However, this love and compassion is one of the most powerful forces on earth.

No education would be complete without it.

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