Sunday, December 1, 2013

Crazy kids in the Church basement.

          As my children ran rampant thru our Church basement and I chased, cajoled and threatened them to stop and stand still , what went thru my mind was my own Church going experiences at their age. We walked in, dipped our fingers in Holy Water, made the sign of the Cross ,genuflected before entering the pew and kneeled.
         We did a lot of kneeling. Children were to be micro-adults. If you squirmed too much or laughed at your brother, a smack on the head was a fairly appropriate response from one or the other of your parents. It would not go unnoticed by the Nuns either. You would see them again at Church school Thursday afternoons. You WOULD be reminded...
          Discipline. You did learn discipline.
              In my mind I feel like I should have that type of control over my kids. I was raised that you speak when spoken to. Above all else in school, Church and your own family...
                           You know your place.
                   Fast forward a couple thousand years. My kids don't fear me. They do not fear their Church. These boys feel completely loved and at home with their Mom and Dad, Pastors and Church family. If they get too rambunctious, there are a half dozen people who will lovingly slow them down and let my Wonderful Wife and I know.
                           I would dare not talk back or question my Dad. He was raised in the camps in WW2 and the accepted child rearing philosophy then was that kids were beat every day, whether they did anything wrong or not. The logic was they must have done, said or thought something wrong and if they hadn't that particular day, it would still be good for their constitution. You can never have to much discipline.
                       My Dad did not follow that course with us, but corporal punishment was present, frequently.  He did an amazing job in diluting the parental skills he was taught. He had his children's respect and like his parents, he had our fear also.
                         I love my Dad and have very real respect for him. The fear is long since passed.
       He is the most gentle person I know. Somewhere long ago he made peace with his upbringing and changed. This is one of Gods great blessings in my life.
                            My children enjoy the gentleness that is in me. They do respect their Mother and I, although their reaction to our directions are not neccacarilly instantaneous.
         It may take repeating something more than once. Neither of our parents ever had to do that..
                We have found that we love the child that is in them now. That means the distractions, excuses and infrequent defiance also. We deal with it and address it but it is still a part of the child they are. They will become adults. Our style of guidance and teaching and discipline is a bit more taxing. (understatement). But we will guide them thru this,  with Gods help.                                                                                                                                                   It would be so much quicker and easier to break their spirits.  Like our parents did. But the cost..
             I tell my children I love them more on most days than my father told me in my life. The flip side is also true. I have told him I love him about the exact same amount of times...
                                               Did I mention the cost?
                 I hear it less nowadays, but they do say they love me. Comfortably and naturally when they do. I envy that. This is a great gift God has given us and I treasure it over any material possession I own. I wish I had that with my own dad. 
             So I hear them laugh at Church and be loved by their silly Pastor. I watch children run thru the sanctuary to get a hug from him, Pastor Duke.. They are welcomed and encouraged in this. He knows them all by name.
    When the service starts the atmosphere does change. If a child gets rambunctious, they are brought out to another area. The Service is respected and Holy. We worship and often children are part of it.
         I have no issue with the Church I was raised in. They taught me much and for that I am grateful.
                Jesus said to let the children come to him. My children and many others have come to him in our Church.Not out of fear or duty. They went to him with love. 
         Jesus is raising us all in the same way, regardless of age or experience. He loves us exactly where we are at, regardless of our distractions, excuses and occasional defiances. For some of us he let us live a life that would break our own spirit. Like a good father, he stands on the hill, waiting for his prodigal sons and daughters to come home, robe and ring ready.
                  

                    

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