My mom and I had a good conversation last week–one of those “Oh, that’s how it went down on your side of things” talks.
Groove back with me to around 1993. I’m growing out my formerly-birds-nest bangs. I have braces. Both are just as becoming as they sound. But though there at 13, I’ve been a Christian for eight years, I haven’t been baptized.
Reading Time: 4 minutes
Months ago, I stumbled upon what I thought was an epiphany: silicone scar strips…which promised, with 4.5 stars on Amazon, to fade stretch marks, people.
My heart lifted. My first child ballooned my belly like a watermelon, complete with stripes. When another mother asked to glimpse my stretch marks after I mentioned their severity, she gasped aloud with some equivalent of Good golly.
Y’all, four kids later, my stomach is still not what one would call attractive.
I thought, Who would’ve thought they’d develop a technology to fade scars? To fade this trail of where my body has been?
So I handed over the $20 and slapped on the strips, vigilantly wearing them for admittedly only half the recommended three months. (Yet conveniently past any return date.) It’s super-cute to one’s spouse, I will add, to cover your body in what look like giant bandaids, particularly as the sticky edges start to curl up and attract fuzz.
A handful of my stretch marks faded to match the silver of the rest. But mostly?
Mostly this was a gimmick, fed by my longing for my former smooth, non-corrugated skin.
After my oldest was born, I stood in my mother’s kitchen talking with my sister, who was at that time still childless. We discussed things that didn’t work quite as before since I’d had a baby. There were more than one. That conversation was even before a C-section scar frowned beneath my abdomen.
Let’s just say I lack some physical functionality, some beauty, some parts that will never bounce back to their taut little selves.
(And that’s just the physical side of having kids.)
My sister asked, her face a mixture of horror and disbelief, “Why would you do that to your body?”
She was asking the right question.
My oldest is now 16. I actually looked forward to all that teenagers have to offer–the complex thought patterns and conversations and identity development and sharing all the movies and books I’ve loved. Part of me cherishes this season.
And part of me feels so ragged, friends.
My soon-to-be-released book, Permanent Markers (c’mon, October 5!), appeared on pre-order on Amazon this week (yes! For the second time!). Most of me exults!
Yet my heart is so world-weary from the greatest and most fearsome journey of my life. (That would be parenting.) The realities of raising children in this season threaten to bring me low. They cut deeply and leave marks on my heart.
(If I lift up the tail of my shirt right here, I have a story.)
Chapters of my parenting double my soul over in pain and loss. Sometimes these moments are nothing short of sacred, birthing God’s life into my family via pain.
But with many of my parenting questions, I’m still just trusting in God’s long game. I’m waiting on him. I believe he gives more than he takes; that he searches diligently for my kids when they wander (Luke 15); that for his own honor (not mine), he does “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20).
Lord, we pray we never find ourselves without hope, without a glimpse of the empty tomb each time we happen upon a cross. Help us begin our daily journey expecting both crosses and empty tombs and rejoicing when we encounter either because we know you are with us.
Some of you, like me, tread through dark days of parenting right now. You understand how people could arrive at old age a little hunched and lined, wizened and shrunken–if not physically, on the inside.
Even if you’ve been working hard to do it in all the right ways, doing the right thing in parenting can feel as if your insides are being pushed outside your body.
(Wait. That’s happened once before…)
But here is what I know.
Having my old body, my old self back could never be worth the trade. (It wasn’t that spectacular in comparison anyway.) My scars mark where God has led me into love.
But more than that, when we choose God’s will, we follow a God with scars.
One of my favorite verses has been this one:
Can a woman forget her nursing child,
that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you.Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are continually before me. (Isaiah 49:15-16)
My name was engraved with spikes on those palms that hold the world in his hands.
Even after Jesus rose from the dead, he didn’t lose the scars (see John 20:27
). And in Revelation, we know Jesus appears as “a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain” (5:6).
If you asked him, he could tell you a story of a good King, betrayed and disbelieved, of a Son given as ransom for many. Of blood spattering, and neatly folded linen.
Put your finger here. See my hands.
In parenthood, we invite scars because of the Savior we follow and the way he loved.
Mark my words: Parenting will not leave you the same. In loving, there will be pain.
But in eternity, I doubt your scars will mask much, if any, regret.
Reading Time: 5 minutes
I imagine there’s some parent out there like me right now. Spring weather finally crooks a finger, beckoning our kids outside…but as the end of the school year looms, there’s unfinished schoolwork (or just today’s chores) you’re not actually sure your child will accomplish. Like, ever. Tasks are colliding like an interstate pileup. How do you motivate a child without losing your ever-loving mind?
Well, I left my magic wand in my other computer. But in short, you’re searching for your unique child’s motivation DNA. As you consider how to motivate your child, here are a few thought’s I’m typing for my own sake.
So here’s a question oddly relevant. With tasks you both want to do and don’t, what primarily motivates you to raise your bum from a chair and get ‘er done?
I’m guessing some of your answers, dear readers, fall into categories like these.
Observation: For a long time, I’ve attempted to motivate my kids using the same ways I’m motivated.
Personally, I’m an Enneagram 2 with a huge 3 wing. (IYou may have conflicting feelings about the Enneagram. It’s all the rage lately, drawing both legitimate Christian praise as well as concern. I’ve written about how I personally have employed it as a faith tool to expose some of my core motivations…and sins.)
This means pleasing/serving others, along with achievement, are highly motivating for me.
Let’s take my eldest, who at his core, is quite different from me. When I try to convince him people will just love something! Or energize him with a goal! ...Well. He turns and walks out of the room.
If writing a handbook for him–an Enneagram 8, partly driven by his need to be against something–I’d title chapter one, Respect His Autonomy. As my mom used to put it when he was little, “He’s a lot more willing if he thinks it’s his idea.”
So for him, I emphasize his adult choice on whether to do the right thing.
Does this mean I abdicate teaching my oldest an obedient heart? That I’m always on the make for how to manipulate him and his desires?
No way. That doesn’t deal with a core heart issue of rebellion in his heart.
…Just like manipulating me as a kid through parental delight would have ignored my heart issues of being a wee little Pharisee, who basks in the praise of men: “They do all their deeds to be seen by others” (Matthew 23:5).
In the same vein, distracting a preschooler from their Oscar-worthy fit in the housewares aisle at Target (or worse, giving them candy or a screen, which could act as a reward) doesn’t actually help deal with their heart.
And BTW: Our kids don’t need to be constantly motivated by something other than obedience or doing what’s right or loving. Sometimes they just need to do the hard thing, like the rest of us have learned to do as adults.
This is a tool for God’s kingdom–to continue to woo our kids toward His ways. It’s a way to raise our kids according to their unique bent (Proverbs 22:6), working with their natural momentum rather than constantly uphill.
For my artistic daughter, art and creativity are natural ways to draw her into God’s Word or serving people or a thriving prayer life. My energetic last-born dives into The Action Bible and the outlandish humor of What’s in the Bible with Buck Denver?
Finding out how our kids are motivated isn’t a tool to use for our kingdom, our will be done.
And that’s why it’s key to know how we as parents are motivated. Because our own goals to motivate a child aren’t always pure.
We might feel shame if our child doesn’t achieve or look the right way. It might be disproportionately embarrassing if our child has poor social skills. We might feel fear if they’re struggling with anxiety or depression, causing us to be reactive rather than helpful, compassionate, and wise.
As parents, we rarely want things entirely for the good of our child and the good of God’s Kingdom. It’s great to want our kids to achieve or be classy or be healthy. But those need to fall in their proper order, not swelling into shame (on us, or cast on them) or inordinate anxiety.
We need to tease out our real desires. Then we can offer those longings to God’s control–and they’ll possess less power to manipulate us from behind.
Take time to prayerfully observe what makes your child want to do things. If they love cheerleading, why do they love it? Does your daughter love the precise, controlled outcomes of science? Does your son value speech and debate because he wants a unique opinion?
Try this two-column list.
How can you wisely (and prayerfully) tie a motivator to a behavior?
Obviously, keep an eye to emotional health. If your child lives for his 45 minutes of screen time at the end of the day, taking it all away to get him to chew with his mouth closed, for the love of Mike could seem unjust, making your child feel misunderstood.
Or is it truly wise to take away time with friends for your homeschooled child?
As you can, talk to your child–and ask questions–about how they’re motivated, and what you perceive. All of us need to know how to get our own motors running.
When we first have kids, God gives us a kindness–the understanding we can have some level of control, some ability to shape our kids. We understand there are clearly ways to motivate a child (taking away consequences, giving rewards), and we possess a lot of them.
But as they inch closer to adulthood, kids undergo that healthy process of differentiation; of becoming someone different than we are. As a veteran missionary once told me,
When your kids turn about 11, you really start hitting your knees. You realize you really can’t change their hearts.
And that’s been my own critical lesson in this season of teens. (Sometimes this lesson feels like fear galloping through me like wild horses.)
I can and should do everything in my power to shape my kids toward God. But as Paul reminds me,
I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. (1 Corinthians 3:6-7)
It’s God who ultimately changes my kids’ hearts. I remember the ancient story of Ruth, who
No, there’s no promise that if we parent well and trust God, we’ll have motivated, phenomenal kids. (Remember, God is the father figure in the story of the prodigal son).
But continuing to seek God on how to motivate them toward him and his ways? That’s worth my effort.
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