Learn Like a Child

Four-month-old Anna sat in an exer-saucer for the first time a few days ago. She was so excited to see all these things she could touch and play with within her reach that she had what I call a “happy seizure.”  Her eyes widen, her mouth drops open, and she kicks her feet and bops her head. Teachers of young children have seen some version of this, too. I’m not talking about the instant delight a new toy or a special effect cause; but the satisfaction that comes from feeling your brain working and stretching around a new concept, one you know is important. For Anna, colors and textures are all she needs to excite her brain.

We need to reclaim our childlike delight in learning, to seize learning moments whenever we see them. It is so neat to watch Anna reach out for a stimulating toy: she focuses intently on it, flings her arms out wildly a few times, and then slowly gathers the toy to her, where she continues to study it, feeling it and tasting it. Proverbs 4:13 says we should take hold of instruction, and don’t let it go, for it is our life.

God’s Word is one source of wisdom, but once we are immersed in it with daily Bible reading and meditation, we can also learn from observing God’s world: nature, people, even seemingly mundane processes and things can reveal metaphors and insight into God’s wisdom. I’ve delighted in seeing God’s presence in Claire’s TV shows or toys, laundry and dirty dishes.

Open up your eyes, and reach out for all the wisdom God has for us! Delight in His Word, and in seeing His wisdom all around us.

A Spectacular Swan Dive of Faith

Ah, the leap of faith. It’s been written about many times, by writers much more accomplished and insightful than this one. But in my morning Bible reading, I came across a beautiful example of a spectacular swan dive–straight into God’s protective care. In 1 Samuel 1, we see the favored wife of Elkanah, Hannah, praying fervently for her deepest desire, a child. When it was granted her, in the form of her son Samuel, she did the unthinkable: she gave her child away. What a sacrifice! For a time after she gave Samuel up, I’m sure she was sad and lonely, and perhaps even unsure of her decision. Shouldn’t I be the one to raise my own child? He can still serve God at home. What if he’s acting up for the priests? What if the priests are too hard on my little boy? What if he was my only child, and I just gave him away? And then, glory to God, she conceived again. And again and again and again and again! Five more children God blessed her with, and the gratification of seeing her son rise to become a great tool for God’s kingdom. All because of Hannah’s leap of faith.

Not many of us can think of a sacrifice of similar magnitude. Once, I made what would be called perhaps a hop of faith in comparison to Hannah’s spectacular swan dive: I ended a romantic relationship with a young man who treated me like a princess, and required very little in return. He was shocked, and it was hard, but I knew that he was not the man God wanted me to be with. And three days later, I met my prince! (That gassy guy snoring on the couch? Yeah, that’s my prince.) I truly believe that was God’s reward for my doing His will. It’s a lesson I return to over and over, and one that has probably prepared me for grander leaps in the future.

Take note: reading this blog entry just might be God preparing you for your own leap. Are you ready?

The Mom Race

On your marks. Get set. Be a mom! And they’re off! Audrey emerges right away, she’s a stay-at-home mom with a good schedule and lots of parenting books. Oh, but Amy is closing in; she dances and plays dress-up with her girls almost everyday. Dark horse Kim is lagging; that inflexibility is really getting to her, Bob….

And so goes the never-ending race to be the best mom. This race is a figment of my imagination, but it is very real to many mothers. We see how other children act, and think, “Why can’t my child be that good?” or conversely, “That kid is a heathen; my child would never do those things!” Both types of comparison are equally counterproductive. No mom is perfect, and all kids are different. If an observer saw Claire and me when I’m hungry, she’s tired, and Anna’s cries cannot be soothed, the observer could be tempted to think, “Thank God I’m a much better parent than her!” While on a good day, I might have cooked a healthy, homemade breakfast, lunch, and dinner, welcomed my hubby home to a clean house, and played happily outside with my girls all afternoon. A friend who visited me on one of those rare Super-Mom days might think, “Good grief, I’ll never be able to measure up to this!”

We all do it: competition is in our nature; judgment is a part of life. Many times in the New Testament, the Christian journey is compared to a race, and Christians instructed to run with endurance, with purpose, with discipline, and without distraction from worldly matters. It is also part of our growth as Christians to learn to discern right from wrong, that we might keep ourselves from the wrong path, and help our brothers and sisters do the same. It’s easy to try to apply the same concepts of competition and judgment to motherhood.

But this is a dangerous trap, sisters.

I find myself competing on things that don’t even matter, becoming wrapped up in winning the coveted Best-Dressed Daughter award, or the prestigious Best Birthday Party trophy, or the highly competitive Best Report Card (I actually haven’t entered this realm yet, but will all too soon!). These things somehow come to represent being a good mother. It’s at least something tangible that we feel like we have some control over.

Unlike our children’s style, parties, and grades, many parenting decisions we make are extremely important in training them up. The ways we choose to discipline our children, the way we talk to them, the way we reward and punish them are all crucial to their behavior and character. These are the decisions that we see other parents making, at church, at playdates, at restaurants, in the grocery store. We don’t, however, usually see how other parents play with their children, tuck them into bed at night, bathe them, and feed them at family meals. We only see a small part of the way they parent, and yet we often think it’s enough to make a judgment on what kinds of parents they are.

I can sometimes picture myself just like the praying Pharisee from Jesus’ parable (Luke 18:9-14): “Oh Lord, thank you that I am not like this mother, who ignores her child’s whining, and then lashes out with anger and bitterness. Thank you for making me a mother who bathes her children three times a week, and gives them three home-cooked meals a day.” When really, we should be like the humble tax collector, who looked down and said, “Father forgive me, a sinner.” This tax collector did not look around at the sins of others, or gloat in his own righteousness. Christ said that he who humbles himself will be exalted. Likewise, Solomon said there’s more hope for a fool than for a man who believe he is wise (Proverbs 26:12).

If ever we believe we’re wise mothers, that means we’ve stopped trying to learn. God still has much to teach me about being a good mother: He builds my patience, wisdom, and gentleness daily through my attempts to parent a preschooler and an infant. My daughters can also teach me how to best parent them, for they are after all individuals, totally unique creations of God who need my own unique personality, love, and affection to set them on the right path. And yes, other mothers can also teach us how to be better parents. We can discern good from evil to pick up on good parenting tactics we can try with our own children.

But we should not berate ourselves for not measuring up to another mom, or congratulate ourselves for far exceeding another mother’s abilities. We can learn from other mothers, but we must love them first. If we see a mother in dire straits, we can offer a helping hand, a prayer, or a welcome distraction, whichever we discern is appropriate. But we should never adopt the attitude of the self-praising Pharisee. His own sins, unconfessed, were unforgiven, while the humble tax collector received forgiveness for his errors, and in effect, beat the Pharisee at his own game. Forgiveness and humility: that’s true victory in Christ.

Leave the Mom Race behind. Focus instead on loving and helping other moms, while striving to raise our children the best we can.

The Iron Standard

Jane Austen is a kindred spirit. Her novels shape my internal life in ways that I don’t even realize. When I’m at a loss as to what would be proper in a situation, I ask myself, “What would Jane do?”  Friends, family, and even my poor husband have been subject to my dreamy verbal strolls comparing Austen’s  observations on communication, relationships, financial strata, and of course, notions of propriety, to their (lesser) modern-day counterparts. My sister, the beneficiary of most of my romantic advice, always gets a healthy dose of Austen’s wisdom to help guide her through the minefield that is contemporary dating.

Well, I do have a point, dear readers. And it does actually relate to the Bible, as that is the point of this little blog. I just get a little carried away when I start paying homage to my favorite fiction writer.

Solomon’s description of the virtuous woman in Proverbs 31 predates Jane Austen by almost three thousand years, but I truly believe Austen’s works have some lessons for the virtually virtuous woman.

How about this little gem: True friends are the people who hold you to a higher standard, not indulge and flatter you.

Austen’s scoundrels are usually the men who make the heroines absolutely giddily liberated: free to indulge their weaknesses for gossip, criticism, exclusivity, etc. I won’t get into the particular examples here, as I know that would probably drive many of my readers into a mini-coma. The heroine’s liberation would increase until she said or did something that explicitly crossed the boundaries of propriety, and finally she would have a moment of clarity: she was wrong about this man.  Despite the ease with which they conversed, the unrestrained laughter they shared, and the fervent anticipation she always felt when she expected him, he was in fact, bad for her. Although she felt at her best when she was with him, he was actually bringing out her worst.

I’ve had friendships and romantic relationships like this, and it’s often difficult to realize your excitement and enjoyment from being with this person is impure. We must measure our friendships by what I call “the iron standard” (Prov. 27:17)  Does a relationship give you strength and purpose in God? Or does it make you feel invincible, as though you can do no wrong?  That’s a good feeling, but it’s not one that leads to growth in the Lord. The way of the fool is right in his own eyes (Prov. 12:15)

Let’s not choose friends based on who makes us feel good about ourselves. Who will sacrifice their own safety for us, like Jonathan would for David? Who will encourage us when we’re weak, rebuke us when we’re wrong, hear our sins to help us heal, and share not only laughter, but also tears? These are the people whose company we should keep.

Wickham, Willoughby, and Churchill certainly don’t pass the iron standard. To do the good works God has in store for us, we must forge friendships that will strengthen us.