Every Moment Counts

The other day my first grader stayed home from school with a cold.   She looked and sounded terrible.   She was up and about, not really sick enough to be crashed on the couch all day and well enough to be bored by 9:30.   Sick and bored, with only half her normal energy level.  I had thought I would escape the bug, but by the afternoon I knew I hadn't.      

After a movie, a craft, games, a napless toddler, someone always asking for food but never eating much, constant running of interference between sick child and napless child, and a box of Christmas stuff dragged out of the closet as a desperate attempt to keep them occupied, I was ready to call it a day.   Before dinner.      

By 8 pm,  the girls were clean, fed, and snoozing soundly.   While breathing in as much steam as possible in a hot shower, I pondered the day.   I've had much harder times as a parent, but for some reason I wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment, some kind of tangible result from a day's work.   

Wouldn't it be nice if someday, years from now, my older daughter would say, "You remember that day when we all felt like crap but you did a fantastic job anyway?  Thank you for being such a super awesome workhorse parent!   I will treasure the example you set for me forever."  Realistically, she probably won't remember this day because nothing of any significance happened, at least not in an earthly sense.   

Then suddenly I was hit with a thought:  every moment counts.   Every.  Moment.   "God?  Is that you?   So if every moment counts in your eyes then I have to be a perfect parent and we both know that's not gonna happen."  

If God was sending a little encouragement my way, and I believe he was, then the basic message is not perfectionism but this:  Love is never in vain.   Every loving thing we do for our children counts, no matter how seemingly mundane.  No one else may see, but God sees and this love is impressed on their young hearts.    

A long while back I had an insight about love.   If the ultimate example of selfless love is Jesus dying for mankind, then warm fuzzy feelings have little to do with it.    He did not feel warm fuzzies when he died.   

Its easy to love my adorable girls with warm fuzzy feelings but there are times when parenting does not feel like this at all (some vomit memories come to mind).   In such times, we can look to Jesus' sacrificial attitude as the foundation of how we love our children.  Not out of drudgery, but from a  heart full of grace.  


  

Parakaleo Hugs

We have a very happy little girl.  Most of the time.  It seems there are two conditions that turn our joyful child into a miserable one:  hunger and tiredness.    The combo of these is especially powerful.    Many times I've picked up a smiling, laughing person from school only to witness an amazing transformation.   Over the slightest disappointment,  the smiling girl becomes weepy and inconsolable.   Her range in this state is anything from whining to outright sobbing.   This can happen any time but I've found that the minefields are before school, after school, dinnertime, and bedtime.   

After a few years of parenting these intense moments, I've learned both wise and unwise ways of responding.   She is pretty much beyond reasoning in that state so the reasoning strategy is out.   And if she hasn't disobeyed in any way there isn't much of a discipline option.   So what to do?   

I avoid getting swept up into an emotional state myself (esp. if I'm tired and hungry too) and keep my voice low and calm.    I tell her to take deep breaths and to try to speak without whining.   These MOs are helpful but they don't solve the problem.    

My child needs rest.  Or food.  But the best medicine is neither.    What is most helpful is simple:  a hug.   Not just any hug but a hug that demonstrates humility and unconditional love.   

Noutheteo and parakaleo are Greek words used in the Bible.  Noutheteo means to admonish, warn, or exhort.   It is generally used in the sense of trying to correct a person's wayward behavior.  Paul used it often to describe how Christians should hold one another accountable.   In 1 Cor 4:14 he says to the church,  "I do not write these things to shame you, but as my beloved children I warn you."  It is also essentially what parents do when they correct their children.   

Parakaleo can also mean to admonish but the meaning is a little different.   More than outright rebuke it means to call to one's side, to entreat and console someone who is struggling.   It is an encouraging, comforting attitude toward another.    1 Thess 1:11-12 says,  "For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging [parakaleo], comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory." 

Being able to tower over your child when you mean business is a handy advantage, but in these times we've found that the wiser approach is to get down on your knees, be eye to eye, and offer an open-armed embrace.    Our precious little girl always accepts the invitation by crashing into our arms.   This simple, humble hug has a profound impact on her little heart because it demonstrates God's unconditional love and grace for her.   

As imperfect people ourselves, it is good to remember that sometimes we, too, need this same embrace from God when we become a blubbering mess.