I lift my eyes to the hills…

It keeps coming back to me lately…this persistent wondering about the final goal of parenting.  I want to work my way backwards, so to speak—beginning at a goal, figuring out how to get to that goal.  What exactly IS the goal?  And if I start with the wrong goal, then I will surely miss true priorities in the process.  And how much does culture play into what our goals are?  Do I want, as I often read in missionary material, “children that are well adjusted to their home culture”?  Well, I really don’t want children that “fit” in any culture.  But I understand the point.  However, I am fairly certain that aiming low will not produce high results.  And aiming high with standards that are not biblical will just result in the child’s frustration and feeling like they are never good enough.  Truth be told, they aren’t good enough.  And neither is their mother.  Isn’t that the point?  If I really am a Christ-follower, like I claim to be, shouldn’t His wisdom be enough for me?  And doesn’t faith grab hold of His promises and walk into the unknown, unsure, with confidence that their Maker is bound to know more than I am?! 

So in our process of figuring out “school” for the year, our goals come back to the same thing as last year and the year before.  If “he who desires to be an elder desires a good thing,” then doesn’t it go without saying that aiming for elder qualities and character traits is a safe bet….and if Titus 2 is supposed to teach women how to live in a wise way, isn’t it more than adequate to train our little daughters in those things as well?  And if “the wisdom of the world is passing away, but the man of God lives forever,” then my strategy for raising “successful” children, and even the definition of “success” should look radically different than my worldly counterpart. Every day I make a choice to listen to the “wisdom” of the world or God’s wisdom from above.  We can take these moments of frustration and anger and hard words and turn them into opportunities for grace, or we can get angry ourselves because the math lesson doesn’t get completed and someone is interrupting grammar, again.  The value of having this many personalities to learn to get along with can get lost in the ever-sharpening blade of sanctification when I resist His will for me, which happens to be that very same blade.  Lord, can’t you make me more like Jesus any other way?  But, truly, “before I was afflicted I went away, but now I heed your word. (Psalm 119:67)”   
  If my goal is that my children cry out for a Redeemer and Savior, then I will not resist the hard things for them either, wanting their lives to be always happy and without trials.  In fact, I will embrace those things for and with them, as I encourage them to pursue Someone greater than themselves.  And if my goal is that they would live more than “safe” lives, spending their time and money and resources and energy on others instead of themselves, then I have to lead them towards those ends now.  Which will come at a great cost to me, because it means I have to look at my own life and my own lack of willingness and beg God to change me first, let me lead in mercy and service.  Which is often what I don’t feel like doing.  

Oh God, use my tiny seconds of a life to raise these children in a way that honors you.  So much is at stake—if our children have seven of their own, I will be reaping what I have sown in 49 little lives in one generation.  Sobering.  To have other little ones, no matter how many, be bearing the fruit of your life is humbling.  Let me not grow weary in well doing.

  Show me what that looks like in each moment….another spilled cup of something (I think we might have the record!), a hurt, a joy, everyday conversation.  This is your idea, this business of sharing life together with little people, and ever-bigger ones.

Your words are not just empty words for me.  They are, quite literally, my very life (Deut. 32:47).

Strengthen my heart with grace (Heb.13:9). 

“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.” II Cor. 12:9