Parenting

Parenting.

Last night we spent several hours helping our younger son to bring his vision of the Underworld from the Aeneas to life in a board game.  I'm proud of him.  He planned it -- drew the game on paper, designed the parts, planned the use of his time well, and stuck with it until it was done last night.  I think his efforts show that he is maturing in his ability to take responsibility for his work.

And the ghosts dancing on wires are cool.  As is the fortress.  And the names each ghost has.

Anyway, I was listening the radio the other morning, and the talk show host said that everyone agrees that the ultimate goal of parenting is to raise happy kids.

Is that the ultimate goal of parenting?  I don't think I agree. 

For me, the ultimate goals of parenting might include ideas like raising a child to an adult who can use the gifts he has been given to serve others and God, who can demonstrate maturity and responsibility, who can lead a fulfilling life, who has found his niche in the world where his greatest desires meet God's greatest needs, who finds love -- both ways to give it and receive it, who can develop a relationship with another human partner, who can place the needs of others above his own, who can fulfill his potential.

I think all of this will lead to a happy and joy-filled adult.

Moving a child toward these goals does not always lead to a happy child.  An unhappy child is sometimes the temporary consequence.

Having said that, as I raise children, along the way, I want them to feel safe, secure, comfortable with themselves and happy.  It's just that temporary happiness is not my ultimate goal.

Anguish

A couple of days of ago I was reading the flood story in Genesis 6-10. As God looked as his creation, he sees that sin is increasing.  Genesis 6:6 is a terrible verse:

And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.

It's terrible to think that God regretted his act of creation.  He had such joy -- saw such goodness in the beginning, and now he wishes he had never created humankind.

It grieved him in his heart.  I wonder if the grief was because of the state of man or if it was the sorrow that caused the grief.

What was interesting to me is that the word for grief is probably translated best as "anguish."  It's the same word used in Genesis 3 to describe the pain women will have in childbirth and the grief man will suffer to till the earth.  The result of the sin in Genesis 3 -- the consequences -- are experienced by God as well.

Isn't that part of parenting?  Don't we experience the anguish of our children?

Moments

Marigolds.

When I was very young, Mom always grew marigolds in a planter at the front of the house. I say "always," although I don't really know how many years she did it.

I remember going out front with an envelope and watching as she collected marigold seeds. We put them in the envelope, and she said we would plant them the next year and grow more marigolds.

I don't know if we did or not, but I remember collecting the seeds.

Isn't it funny the things that stick in your mind? I probably wasn't any older than four years old at the time. Do you ever wonder what your children will remember when they grow older? What moments they will carry with them?

Forget the pain?

I attended another funeral today. One of the scriptures read was from John 16:

When a woman is in labour, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. John 16:21

I hesitate to disagree with John, but what does he know? After childbirth, when you hold your newborn baby, there is great joy, and love and life transforming feelings. You do not, however forget the pain. You remember the pain, but you decide that the child is worth the pain.

I think that way of thinking about it is more loving. It describes a sacrificial love, not one of convenient memory lapse.

Do we forget suffering and grief? Or do we, at some point, see God at work through it all? God's grace doesn't make the pain disappear, or make us forget it, but his grace does surround us with reassurance and comfort.

I think that's different than forgetting the anguish.

What kind of job?

There is a song by Mark Harris called "Writing on the Wall." Some of the lyrics:

Cause I could see the writing on the wall
It seems no matter how I tried
To stop the roller coaster ride
The pages just kept turning
Even though deep in my heart I knew we had it all I could see the writing on the wall

It's a song about his children growing up, and how quickly that seems to happen

It's right. Our boys keep growing; we turn around that they are visibly older.

Being a parent is such an important. I wonder sometimes, how I'm doing. I'm so busy with so many things in life, am I failing at this very important job? It worries me

Image: Our church's Chrismon tree.