My children were young in the nineties. The wisdom of the day on parenting, via the latest headline, newspaper or magazine article or television talk show suggested that we keep our kids busy. The thought being: “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” There were other nuggets of wisdom: put them in sports, keep them active in clubs at school, choose this school or that school, eat dinner together as a family, go to church together. While there may be some wisdom in these suggestions, I would later learn that there is a bigger truth to learn.
I think that I tried each of those suggestions. I was looking for the panacea for raising healthy, happy, successful children. The problem, I later discovered is that I was looking for answers in the world. At the time, I thought that I had gone to God for guidance…but, I didn’t get an immediate answer from Him, that was to my liking…
So, I kept my kids busy (ie crazy) in activities that they may or may not have enjoyed, we ate dinner together, went to church together and we put them in really good schools. And yet, things didn’t go as I’d planned. In fact, our world fell apart. My children were not safe or happy. While my intentions may have been good, I did not go to the right source for information.
God calls us to only love. That’s it. It is as simple and as difficult as that. But, how do we love? Shouldn’t that come natural? Do we pick up ‘how to love’ from our parents? That’s what I did. I tried to discourage bad behavior first and foremost. I took actions that would change their behavior. To me, this kept them safe. It taught them right from wrong. I did not understand the difference between punishment and correction. I didn’t even think about it. It’s what my parents did with me and I turned out alright…right?
When my world cracked open, the light began to shine through. I started going to twelve-step meetings where I met a wide variety of people who had all suffered something closely resembling my life. These folks whose kids had fallen through the cracks began to teach me about love. They helped me to see that a stern look is really an effort for me to control a behavior. They taught me that anger can be a manipulation. They showed me how to put up a boundary that doesn’t look like a wall. They told me stories of hope that showed me that when I can love my kids until they can love themselves, I will see that they are healthy and happy because they want to be.
In a little room in the basement of a church, with women that the world would see as misfits, I learned that I could not do this parenting thing alone. I had to plug to God (the source of Love) in order to be capable of giving love. Then, I learned that I had to take stock (inventory or examination of conscience) and clean out my temple so that I can regularly keep company with God through prayer. I also learned that I needed to learn to pray only for His will for me and the power to carry it out. Last of all, I was taught to give it all away.
I give it away no-matter-what. If my kids use words that offend me or dress in clothing that makes me cringe or have so many tattoos and/or piercings that remind me of something that makes me scared, or listen to music that I do not understand, I have learned to look beyond. I look deeply into their eyes and remember that these are my gifts from God. I remember that they are His children too. He loves them more than I ever could imagine. And then, I trust their journey to Him.
And, that is what I have discovered love to be.