Transformation
This past weekend was Community Camp and Amy led us in our devotion about transformation. We talked about if we really believe God is who he says he is and how we can be patient with God and with ourselves as he refines us more and more into the image of Christ and how being active in our sanctification really looks like surrender.
I brought up a point in the discussion that I said was maybe unfinished (and it was), but I've since had time to think on it some more and I wanted some space to flesh that out.
A year ago when I was in counseling with postpartum depression and a lot of anger at my children who refused to be controlled or considerate of their mother's sadness/angst/frustration/despair, I was complaining about Asher's defiance when it came to every day ordeals.
"Asher, go to the bathroom."
"No."
"You need to use the bathroom before bed."
"I will not."
"Asher."
"NO!"
Cue him lying down limp on the floor and flailing and crying and a big, big ordeal that ended with me dragging him down the hall, both of us frustrated, and no one going to the bathroom.
My counselor started by affirming my feelings:
"Of course. It's the end of the day, you feel like you've been working constantly. All parents want to lie on the couch and tell their kids to go to the bathroom and get their pajamas and put them on and then have them go to bed without a fuss. But maybe instead of thinking: Asher should do exactly what I say when I say it, try instead to think: Asher needs to use the bathroom. What can I do to help make that happen?"
My first instinct was, "Mmmm... Lady, pretty sure I just need him to do exactly what I say when I say it!" And I don't feel like that's TOTALLY off base. Our children have to trust us to some extent so that when they are about to run into traffic and we scream, "STOP!" they know enough to listen.
Also, can I say that parenting that way is a million times harder. I have to get up off the couch and plan ahead and say, "Asher do you want to run or hop to the bathroom?" And then I have to say, "Do you want to pee sitting down or standing up?" And then he'll say, "Neither one!" And I'll have to reevaluate again. And he will have to come up with some of his own options. And we'll have to work together to solve the problem. And I'll have to be resourceful and kind and patient and on-my-toes, and I'll have to really think about my son--his emotions, how his brain works.
It was hard for me to wrap my mind around at first and even knowing the principle, it's still a mind-boggling way to parent. But the goal hasn't changed. The goal is still obedience, even if we've shifted our perspective. How can I help Asher to obey? How can I help him do what he needs to do without us ending in a fight? Most of the time I still don't have the answers to these questions, I still flounder daily and feel like I'm drowning. But at least I can see the other side.
While I was listening to Amy talk about transformation, I couldn't get this out of my head. I kept thinking, God is that way with us. And I think that's true.
God isn't lying on his heavenly couch barking out orders at me:
Kristen, be patient!
Kristen, read your Bible!
Kristen, be kind to your children!
Kristen, why are you complaining yet again?!
Instead I think we can trust that God is walking beside us, using whatever circumstances we are in. God kindly walks us to the bathroom, so to speak. :)
So often I imagine God presenting me with a checklist of things I need to be doing or not doing, and I imagine his disappointment with my failure. Which belies my underlying belief that I can earn his approval.
God's goal doesn't change. His goal is still to transform us, to make us more Christlike. It always will be. And as Amy suggested, we can be patient with him and with ourselves during this process. Because instead of God telling me to be patient and me working really, really hard, he's probably using my children to teach me that. And sickness for the entire month of October.
Instead of telling me to read my Bible and becoming angry when I didn't, God inspired me to start reading it in small chunks, alongside my husband. He renewed the desire. It wasn't calamity or tragedy that brought me back. Some discipline, yes, but it was sweet.
Maybe God is teaching me to be kind to my children by being kind to me. By having friends who bring me meals when I am sick. When I forget my blessings, he doesn't always slap me with a reminder of how good I have it. Maybe he blesses me even more.
And maybe God will help me to complain less as I become more dependent on him, as I trust him more.
It's hard for me to believe that God loves me just as I am. That there's nothing I could ever do to make him love me any more or any less. It's easier for me to believe that God knows me. And I trust that he knows what I need, when I struggle, when I balk at my circumstances, when I try and fail and try and fail again. I'm trying to think of God not saying, "Kristen should..." But instead, "Kristen can be more like Christ. How can we make that happen?"
I brought up a point in the discussion that I said was maybe unfinished (and it was), but I've since had time to think on it some more and I wanted some space to flesh that out.
A year ago when I was in counseling with postpartum depression and a lot of anger at my children who refused to be controlled or considerate of their mother's sadness/angst/frustration/despair, I was complaining about Asher's defiance when it came to every day ordeals.
"Asher, go to the bathroom."
"No."
"You need to use the bathroom before bed."
"I will not."
"Asher."
"NO!"
Cue him lying down limp on the floor and flailing and crying and a big, big ordeal that ended with me dragging him down the hall, both of us frustrated, and no one going to the bathroom.
My counselor started by affirming my feelings:
"Of course. It's the end of the day, you feel like you've been working constantly. All parents want to lie on the couch and tell their kids to go to the bathroom and get their pajamas and put them on and then have them go to bed without a fuss. But maybe instead of thinking: Asher should do exactly what I say when I say it, try instead to think: Asher needs to use the bathroom. What can I do to help make that happen?"
My first instinct was, "Mmmm... Lady, pretty sure I just need him to do exactly what I say when I say it!" And I don't feel like that's TOTALLY off base. Our children have to trust us to some extent so that when they are about to run into traffic and we scream, "STOP!" they know enough to listen.
Also, can I say that parenting that way is a million times harder. I have to get up off the couch and plan ahead and say, "Asher do you want to run or hop to the bathroom?" And then I have to say, "Do you want to pee sitting down or standing up?" And then he'll say, "Neither one!" And I'll have to reevaluate again. And he will have to come up with some of his own options. And we'll have to work together to solve the problem. And I'll have to be resourceful and kind and patient and on-my-toes, and I'll have to really think about my son--his emotions, how his brain works.
It was hard for me to wrap my mind around at first and even knowing the principle, it's still a mind-boggling way to parent. But the goal hasn't changed. The goal is still obedience, even if we've shifted our perspective. How can I help Asher to obey? How can I help him do what he needs to do without us ending in a fight? Most of the time I still don't have the answers to these questions, I still flounder daily and feel like I'm drowning. But at least I can see the other side.
While I was listening to Amy talk about transformation, I couldn't get this out of my head. I kept thinking, God is that way with us. And I think that's true.
God isn't lying on his heavenly couch barking out orders at me:
Kristen, be patient!
Kristen, read your Bible!
Kristen, be kind to your children!
Kristen, why are you complaining yet again?!
Instead I think we can trust that God is walking beside us, using whatever circumstances we are in. God kindly walks us to the bathroom, so to speak. :)
So often I imagine God presenting me with a checklist of things I need to be doing or not doing, and I imagine his disappointment with my failure. Which belies my underlying belief that I can earn his approval.
God's goal doesn't change. His goal is still to transform us, to make us more Christlike. It always will be. And as Amy suggested, we can be patient with him and with ourselves during this process. Because instead of God telling me to be patient and me working really, really hard, he's probably using my children to teach me that. And sickness for the entire month of October.
Instead of telling me to read my Bible and becoming angry when I didn't, God inspired me to start reading it in small chunks, alongside my husband. He renewed the desire. It wasn't calamity or tragedy that brought me back. Some discipline, yes, but it was sweet.
Maybe God is teaching me to be kind to my children by being kind to me. By having friends who bring me meals when I am sick. When I forget my blessings, he doesn't always slap me with a reminder of how good I have it. Maybe he blesses me even more.
And maybe God will help me to complain less as I become more dependent on him, as I trust him more.
It's hard for me to believe that God loves me just as I am. That there's nothing I could ever do to make him love me any more or any less. It's easier for me to believe that God knows me. And I trust that he knows what I need, when I struggle, when I balk at my circumstances, when I try and fail and try and fail again. I'm trying to think of God not saying, "Kristen should..." But instead, "Kristen can be more like Christ. How can we make that happen?"
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