Seasoned Words
There's been a lot of talk about respect around our house these days. My boys are just learning the art of talking back, and they've been lectured pretty extensively on the topic of speaking appropriately to adults. I hear myself saying it all day long, "You don't talk to me like that. That's disrespectful." And then I hear the same voice answering them harshly, foregoing the "pleases" and "thank-yous." I know I'm the adult and they are the children. A certain amount of respect is a reasonable expectation from them. But, as I often say to them, my "words do not say, 'I love you'."
It was time for a change. Some weeks ago, when our days were long and especially filled with spiteful encounters, I challenged myself (not that I needed an additional challenge, but it was more of an experiment). I started each day with a simple prayer, "Dear Lord, please be with us today. Be in the words we say to each other; season them with love and respect. Guard my mouth, especially, so that the words that come out of it are words that build up and encourage and model the proper respect for others. And be with our interactions with each other. Help us to remember we are all on the same side. May there be peace between us today."
They're not magic words, but the first day I noticed a difference. It was subtle, perhaps, but it was there. I hesitated before I answered harshly. The kids fought just a little less. Hmmm... I thought, maybe there's something to this. I prayed again the next day, and the next, and the next. Slowly, gradually, our interactions softened, our days were more peaceful. At the same time, those mornings when I chose a few extra minutes of sleep over prayer, or neglected to pray altogether, I noticed a difference. The kids picked on each other, I reacted (and over-reacted!), and by lunch I was eyeing the door, hoping to make some kind of escape.
The truth is, I don't know how to speak to my children. I don't know how to stay engaged so that my interactions with them are intentional and not reactionary. I don't know how to make them get along with each other. I never will. But when I stop at the beginning of my day and acknowledge, "God, we are a mess without you--please, come and save us from ourselves!" He is more than happy to answer! We don't do it perfectly, and my neighbours could surely attest to the fact that there is still a certain lack of civility around here at times (ouch--that fact absolutely stings!). But we are recognizing our need for help, and He is faithful to provide it.
I've taken a somewhat new approach to parenting in these few weeks. I've been completely upfront with my children about my morning prayers. They know that I stop at the beginning of the day and pray that God would fill my lips with respectful, loving words. Henry has begun to do the same. I've admitted to them that I, left to myself, say things that hurt them. But I am teaching them--even as I learn it myself-- that there is no shame in recognizing our failures and asking God to cover them. When they are struggling to obey, I remind them that there is a God who wants desperately to see us obedient, and who stands ready to help us. We're learning together, and I hope, day by day, our interactions and words are consistently, clearly saying, "I love you."
It was time for a change. Some weeks ago, when our days were long and especially filled with spiteful encounters, I challenged myself (not that I needed an additional challenge, but it was more of an experiment). I started each day with a simple prayer, "Dear Lord, please be with us today. Be in the words we say to each other; season them with love and respect. Guard my mouth, especially, so that the words that come out of it are words that build up and encourage and model the proper respect for others. And be with our interactions with each other. Help us to remember we are all on the same side. May there be peace between us today."
They're not magic words, but the first day I noticed a difference. It was subtle, perhaps, but it was there. I hesitated before I answered harshly. The kids fought just a little less. Hmmm... I thought, maybe there's something to this. I prayed again the next day, and the next, and the next. Slowly, gradually, our interactions softened, our days were more peaceful. At the same time, those mornings when I chose a few extra minutes of sleep over prayer, or neglected to pray altogether, I noticed a difference. The kids picked on each other, I reacted (and over-reacted!), and by lunch I was eyeing the door, hoping to make some kind of escape.
The truth is, I don't know how to speak to my children. I don't know how to stay engaged so that my interactions with them are intentional and not reactionary. I don't know how to make them get along with each other. I never will. But when I stop at the beginning of my day and acknowledge, "God, we are a mess without you--please, come and save us from ourselves!" He is more than happy to answer! We don't do it perfectly, and my neighbours could surely attest to the fact that there is still a certain lack of civility around here at times (ouch--that fact absolutely stings!). But we are recognizing our need for help, and He is faithful to provide it.
I've taken a somewhat new approach to parenting in these few weeks. I've been completely upfront with my children about my morning prayers. They know that I stop at the beginning of the day and pray that God would fill my lips with respectful, loving words. Henry has begun to do the same. I've admitted to them that I, left to myself, say things that hurt them. But I am teaching them--even as I learn it myself-- that there is no shame in recognizing our failures and asking God to cover them. When they are struggling to obey, I remind them that there is a God who wants desperately to see us obedient, and who stands ready to help us. We're learning together, and I hope, day by day, our interactions and words are consistently, clearly saying, "I love you."
