Thoughts on Grace and Parenting

I read an amazing article on how the grace of God pushes us toward righteousness. I have ruminated on the thoughts presented in this article for several days. Today, it hit me like a bolt out of the blue, that I saw that exact principle played out by my aunt and uncle when I was a child.
I grew up, like many of us, in dysfunctional home. The grownups in my house had too much heartbreak and disappointment to affectively love the little motherless mess that I was when I came to live with them at three years old.
As I grew, my own pain and sense of rejection manifested itself in all sorts of anger, rebellion and sneaky behaviors. This caused my adoptive mother to try to tighten the reins by controlling every aspect of my life. This did not achieve a desirable result.
Something very different was happening right up the street. My aunt and uncle were raising four kids of their own, and one very damaged nephew. For a long time the small, three bedroom house had four teenage boys, and one slightly high maintenance little girl. It occasionally included the wild nephew’s alcoholic mother. Logic would dictate that chaos would reign supreme in that tiny house. One would think that four teenage boys, large, loud and athletic, would overrun one loving mother and one funny father. But that house radiated peace and joy. There was a complete absence of tyranny and control on the part of the parents.
The rules in that house were not set in stone, but rather, carved in sand. There was no curfew; instead there was “Call if you’ll be much later than midnight.” There was no “You must get straight A’s” instead there was, “Do your best and we’ll be proud.” There were never commands given. It was “Would you mind?” instead of “Do it now!” The amazing thing? The kids did it. Dishwashers got emptied, rooms got cleaned, and homework was done. The tremendous love that was poured out on these kids made them want to obey. Oh, there were consequences for bad behavior, but they were appropriate, and short-lived. My aunt corrected and moved on with lightening fast speed. “What do you think you’re doing?” bellowed at full volume could be followed within seconds with, “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you a sandwich?” If I were to ask my aunt what someone got in trouble for the day before, she would say, very believably, “I don’t remember, it wasn’t important.” When the kids made mistakes, as kids do, she was careful not to punish them more than they punished themselves. She never heaped shame on a child who was ashamed, wrath on a child that was angry at himself, or judgment on a child who already saw the error of his ways.

As an adult with four kids of my own, and the occasional wild teenaged relative thrown into the mix, I have thought often of how my amazingly aunt and uncle parented. I have called my aunt for advice more times than I can count. My cousin and I have spent hours on the phone discussing their brilliant parenting style. In fact, my cousin wrote a book about it.
In spite of all of that thought, today is the first time that I realized that my aunt and uncle parented their kids the way God desires to parent us. They bathed their children in love and acceptance. They let their children know what was right and what was wrong, and let the child choose for himself.
It worked. The four children grew up to be four faithful, loving generous beyond reason adults. My four cousins are four of the greatest people I know. The wild nephew took a little longer, but he too is living a life of love and peace. The grace poured out on those five children was not wasted, even though at the time it seemed so abundant, and so wasteful.
I now strive to wastefully pour out grace on my own four kids. Now that I am beginning to see God’s grace so wastefully poured out on me.

This World is Not Our Home

This world is not our home. We would not go to a stranger’s home and rearrange the furniture to make ourselves more comfortable. We would hesitate to suggest that the wall colors should be changed, or that the carpet should be pulled out in favor of hardwood. If you were a guest with a very important life or death mission, I’m sure you would be even less likely to comment on the state of the person’s home.
This world is not our home. This is a fallen world, waiting to be redeemed by a savior. As Christians, we are to be a fragrance of Jesus to this world. We should not be surprised when the country at large turns away from our value system. Of course they will.
It is my belief that Christians should not try to force everyone to conform to our values and sense of morality unless lives are at stake. I am not sure how we can simultaneously love people and protest them.
I have heard many people say that gay marriage will somehow harm traditional marriage. I believe divorce is what harms traditional marriage, as does adultery, abuse, and addiction.
For reasons unknown to me, some Christians think that homosexuality is the ultimate sin. That is not how God sees it. In fact, Sodom, oft referenced to point out God’s disgust with homosexuality, was in fact destroyed because of their lack of care for the poor, and for rampant greed and arrogance. As followers of Christ, can we say with certainty that we care for the poor, and that we lack arrogance?
Instead of focusing on political issues, perhaps we should remember that people see Jesus when we are like Him. Instead of trying so hard to legislate morality, maybe we should model it. How do we expect to reach a world that needs grace? Do we reach it holding picket signs condemning entire groups of people, or with humility, and grace? The same grace that was poured out on us, regardless of our sins. Have we collectively forgotten who we are? We are salt, and light. But I fear we may be a bit bland and dim.
My prayer is that we Christians would remember the mercy that was so abundantly poured over our sins. We should remember that God never tires of forgiving us. We should remember that the whole world needs the grace that God gave us. And we should stop trying to make ourselves comfortable here. This is not our home.