Clarifying “Stepping Back”

My conversation with Fizzledink continues. Her half of the conversation can be found here.

I think I may need to clarify what I meant when I said “step back for a year.” I realized that we had a miscommunication when I read:

I do not see prayer, Scripture study, praise music, or any of the other ‘outward expressions of an inner faith’ happening in my home if I simply stop doing all of those things and wait for him to begin them.

You are still responsible for your personal walk with the Lord. You need to be extra vigilant to continue your personal prayer and study times, to listen to praise and worship music and to make every effort to walk daily with our God. In doing so, you will naturally end up exposing Smooch to those things, and that is a good thing.

When I (and then Jonathan) suggested you step back, we meant from leading your family in those things. When you get up on a Sunday morning, by all means shower and prepare for church, just don’t expect Gruff to do the same. I would suggest that on a morning when Gruff looks as though he is not inclined to attend church you ask him if he minds if you attend and if you bring Smooch with you. You have just submitted. Do you see?

If you’re at home alone, of course you will pray over your meal, and it would be natural to include Smooch in that. When Gruff is at the table, that should be his decision, with no prompting from you. When you are listening to music, you’ll choose praise and worship. if you’re with Gruff, you ask him if he minds if you play praise and worship music. By all means read Smooch bible stories and teach him scripture and sing with him, but don’t institute family worship,

I am certainly not advocating that you take a year off from church and scripture reading and prayer! That would be contrary to scripture. I am saying that you should do all of these things “with your head covered” as it says in 1 Corinthians 11. Do it all with the assumption that Gruff is the boss on these things, and act accordingly. One Sunday, he may look at you and say “I have worked 60 hours this week, and I would really like to put some fried chicken in a basket and take you and Smooch to the park and have some family time.” I would submit that you say “I love that you love us enough to want to spend the day with us,” and go and enjoy yourself.

This is the same counsel I would give the wife of an unbeliever, because I don’t believe you can submit in some things, and not in others.  So does that help or hinder?

Life as a TugBoat

On Monday, my mac had a fun first. She was in my arms as I spoke to our school administrator. Clearly bored with our conversation, she was making eyes at our school secretary, who was very willing to oblige a baby seeking attention. The second our secretary spoke to her, my mac took her binky out of her mouth, and offered it to Patty. Patty took it, pretended to suck on it and passed it back. My mac grinned, and took it back.

It was her first “game!”

I loved watching her learn to “share,” but as I think about it, and as I watch her play more and more independently, I am learning that being a parent is like being a tugboat. Our job is to gently guide our children through the harbor of childhood into the open waters of adulthood.  The trick is maintaining that tow rope between us.

If the rope goes too slack, the children sail out of the shipping lanes, bang up against the shore line and other vessels, and get stuck in shallow water.  If the rope is too tight, the children bang up against us as tug boats, and run the risk of never learning to navigate for themselves.  If we let loose of the rope while the children are still in the harbor, they’ll either never make it out, or they’ll end up in open water well before they’re ready.  If we never let loose of the rope, we’ll end up both being tangled in the rope by the ocean’s waves, and dashed against each other repeatedly and uselessly.

As a tugboat, I’ve got to gradually lengthen that rope without letting it get too slack.  I’ve got to teach her to navigate for herself in the safety of the harbor, and not just make a path straight for the ocean and cut her loose.  But I can’t keep her in the harbor; eventually she’s got to set sail.

Even now, I’m trying to learn to keep an even tension on that tow rope.  My gut wants to keep her tied to my keel for the rest of her life.  but i know that neither of us would survive that.  I think, in the end, I’ve got to spend a lot more time listening to the Harbor Master if I want to do this thing well.

Wordless Wednesday: Did Someone Say Vogue?