A Transforming Love
Finding grape vines, heavy with clumps of sweet, juicy fruit would be an indescribable joy for a weary desert traveler. This is the way God felt when he reclaimed his people from Egypt: When I found Israel, it was like finding grapes in the desert. But God wasn’t content to leave this vine in the desert:
You brought a vine out of Egypt;
you drove out the nations and planted it.
You cleared the ground for it,
and it took root and filled the land.
The mountains were covered with its shade,
the mighty cedars with its branches.
It sent out its boughs to the sea,
its shoots as far as the River. (Ps.80:8-11)
What a task! God had placed his tender nation in the sheltering soil of Egypt 400 years earlier. But now its roots had been tunneling and intertwining with the economic roots of Egypt for so long, that the Pharaoh thought he owned the vine and clung tenaciously to it. But God was resolved—the grip of Egypt was not strong enough to resist His uprooting power. Eventually the Pharaoh relinquished his slaves.
God then potted this fragile vine in his nurturing arms, bearing it through the desert to its new home. After he cleared the ground by driving out the host nations, he planted his vine in the welcoming soil of Canaan. The transplant was a smashing success: it took root and filled the land, covering the mountains with its shade.
The Great Gardener's goal has always been to transplant his seedlings into the fertile soil of his garden where they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon. (Ps.92:12) These cedars of Lebanon are the sequoias of the Middle East. They tower to a height of over one hundred feet and span forty feet or more. God's persistent desire is to produce lives which mirror the strength, durability, and beauty of those giant evergreens.
Two summers ago I brought home a discarded pack of seedling broccoli plants—as my wife knows, I am a sucker for anything marked "Free"! They were root-bound sticks with only two or three small, dusty-green leaves at the top of each plant. I had a vacant spot in my garden so I tossed them in the ground. I didn't pay much attention to them but did notice that once established, they began to fill out. By October I was stunned by a harvest of ten or twelve very large, dense, blue-green heads of broccoli.
As we enjoyed that astounding harvest, those plants reminded me of Paul's words to the Corinthians: God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. (1:27-29) God delights in selecting nursery rejects—the weak, the lowly, the despised, and transforming them into monuments to his grace—the cedars of Lebanon. You may fear that you are too insignificant or have snubbed God's call for too long or have made too many immoral choices. But God delights in transforming your frail, fruitless life into a fruitful marvel. Give The Master Gardener a chance—He is very experienced!
2010/04/01
Gardening the Soul: The Father Loves His Garden, Part 2
Jesus’ parable about the landowner who paid workers the same wage for varying amounts of work (see previous post), teaches us that God treats the seedlings in his garden fairly but individually.
My three boys learned that God doesn't treat his children uniformly through a college trust fund generously established by their grandparents. Since the assets were invested in an expanding stock market (remember the 80’s & 90’s?!), the longer the money remained invested, the more it grew. Thus, there was a distinct advantage to the younger boys as their funds grew while the eldest was paying for his education. By the time our third son entered college he had twice as much money in his trust fund as his eldest brother had when he began college—and then he received a tuition-free scholarship!
Some children are blessed with grandparents who treasure their grandchildren. Others endure self-absorbed grandparents. Some are born into wealthy homes. Others grow up in poverty. When we observe these disparities, we are tempted to covet others' blessings: A higher salary. Healthier children. An available father. A close friend. An effective pastor. A vacation home. A beautiful body. A spouse. A milder climate. Etc. Etc. Etc.
This parable teaches that the Gardener will treat each of us fairly, but distinctly: Friend, I am not being unfair to you. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous? God plants each seedling in a dizzying diversity of environments to accomplish a unity of purpose—fruitfulness. Did the all-day workers understand why the short-day workers were shown such generosity? No. Did I know why God wouldn't provide a mentor for me? No. Did the Bible’s Jacob understand why he was staring at the face of Leah, and not the promised Rachel, on the first morning of his marriage? No. God's workings are often mystifying:
As you do not know the path of the wind,
or how the body is formed in a mother's womb,
so you cannot understand the work of God,
the Maker of all things. (Eccl.11:5)
My job is not to understand God's work, but to trust it. God has a marvelous plan for my life. This isn't a generic, one-size- fits-all plan. It probably won't be what I want or expect. But I know it will include all the nutrients I need to grow to full fruitfulness. "Lord, help me trust your specific, gracious—though sometimes confusing—cultivation of my life."
My three boys learned that God doesn't treat his children uniformly through a college trust fund generously established by their grandparents. Since the assets were invested in an expanding stock market (remember the 80’s & 90’s?!), the longer the money remained invested, the more it grew. Thus, there was a distinct advantage to the younger boys as their funds grew while the eldest was paying for his education. By the time our third son entered college he had twice as much money in his trust fund as his eldest brother had when he began college—and then he received a tuition-free scholarship!
Some children are blessed with grandparents who treasure their grandchildren. Others endure self-absorbed grandparents. Some are born into wealthy homes. Others grow up in poverty. When we observe these disparities, we are tempted to covet others' blessings: A higher salary. Healthier children. An available father. A close friend. An effective pastor. A vacation home. A beautiful body. A spouse. A milder climate. Etc. Etc. Etc.
This parable teaches that the Gardener will treat each of us fairly, but distinctly: Friend, I am not being unfair to you. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous? God plants each seedling in a dizzying diversity of environments to accomplish a unity of purpose—fruitfulness. Did the all-day workers understand why the short-day workers were shown such generosity? No. Did I know why God wouldn't provide a mentor for me? No. Did the Bible’s Jacob understand why he was staring at the face of Leah, and not the promised Rachel, on the first morning of his marriage? No. God's workings are often mystifying:
As you do not know the path of the wind,
or how the body is formed in a mother's womb,
so you cannot understand the work of God,
the Maker of all things. (Eccl.11:5)
My job is not to understand God's work, but to trust it. God has a marvelous plan for my life. This isn't a generic, one-size- fits-all plan. It probably won't be what I want or expect. But I know it will include all the nutrients I need to grow to full fruitfulness. "Lord, help me trust your specific, gracious—though sometimes confusing—cultivation of my life."
2010/03/16
Gardening the Soul: The Father Loves His Garden
An Individualized Love
I remember two messages from four years of daily chapel as a seminary student. (This probably reflects more on the listener than on the speakers!) Both messages energized my sputtering spiritual life. One of them was based on Jesus' puzzling parable in Matthew 20 where he likens the kingdom of heaven to a landowner who hires groups of unemployed men--at the 3rd, 6th, 9th, and 11th hour of a 12-hour workday--to work in his vineyard. Only the first group had a specified agreement--he would pay them a denarius for the day's work.
When the workday ended, the crews came to be paid in the reverse order of their hiring. The first group, who had worked only one hour, watched in amazement as a full day's pay was placed into their barely soiled hands. They joyously skipped home with their windfall—now able to feed their families for another day. As the owner called each group forward to receive its pay, it became increasingly clear that each would receive the same amount. By the time the last group was paid—they were the only group not paid more than they deserved—one of them erupted in angry protest: These men who were hired last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day. This weary, sweat-stained worker was outraged that he was paid the same wage as the 1-hour workers.
But note, again, the introduction to this strange parable: The kingdom of God is like a landowner . . . This is what the kingdom of God is like?! Does God ignore effort or merit? Suppose your daughter needs spending money for church camp so you agree to pay her $20 to work all day helping around the house—vacuuming, scrubbing, mopping, laundering. Then your son—who spent the day hanging out with his friends—returns just before dinner and you ask him to help you set the table. After the meal you thank your kids for their work and reward each with a twenty-dollar bill. How would your daughter feel? Just like the all-day vineyard workers—incensed! So how can this loony landowner reflect the values of the kingdom? Does God treat people unfairly?
The landowner firmly denied being unfair: Friend, didn't you agree to work for a denarius? The worker's silence was an admission that the agreement had not been broken. So why did he grumble? The owner pinpointed the problem: Are you envious because I am generous? This worker envied the owner’s generous treatment of the other workers.
I had enrolled in seminary, in part, because I was looking for a mentor. I struggled to build a relationship with my professors, but was rebuffed by their busyness. I wanted someone I could drop in to chat with—not someone whose secretary made appointments for next month. I wanted someone to talk with about my faults and my future. And though I failed, a few privileged students developed bonds with our professors. As a result, I became jealous of their success and dejected by my failure—"What's wrong with me?" Into this heartache the Vineyard Owner dropped these piercing words: Friend, I am not being unfair to you. . . . Or are you envious because I am generous? God assured me that he would be fair to me. He would create the environment that this seedling needed to grow to maturity. And because he promised to nurture me, I could rejoice in his generosity to my friends.
The plant world is full of unique plants which require unique conditions -- cacti thrive in the desert; water lilies love -- guess what? – water; lettuce relishes cool weather; melons won't grow if it isn't summer-hot. But it isn't just plants that require varying conditions. This parable teaches that God designs special environments for each of his human seedlings also. Thank God he doesn’t treat us the same. He provides the exact conditions that we need to become abundantly fruitful.
I remember two messages from four years of daily chapel as a seminary student. (This probably reflects more on the listener than on the speakers!) Both messages energized my sputtering spiritual life. One of them was based on Jesus' puzzling parable in Matthew 20 where he likens the kingdom of heaven to a landowner who hires groups of unemployed men--at the 3rd, 6th, 9th, and 11th hour of a 12-hour workday--to work in his vineyard. Only the first group had a specified agreement--he would pay them a denarius for the day's work.
When the workday ended, the crews came to be paid in the reverse order of their hiring. The first group, who had worked only one hour, watched in amazement as a full day's pay was placed into their barely soiled hands. They joyously skipped home with their windfall—now able to feed their families for another day. As the owner called each group forward to receive its pay, it became increasingly clear that each would receive the same amount. By the time the last group was paid—they were the only group not paid more than they deserved—one of them erupted in angry protest: These men who were hired last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day. This weary, sweat-stained worker was outraged that he was paid the same wage as the 1-hour workers.
But note, again, the introduction to this strange parable: The kingdom of God is like a landowner . . . This is what the kingdom of God is like?! Does God ignore effort or merit? Suppose your daughter needs spending money for church camp so you agree to pay her $20 to work all day helping around the house—vacuuming, scrubbing, mopping, laundering. Then your son—who spent the day hanging out with his friends—returns just before dinner and you ask him to help you set the table. After the meal you thank your kids for their work and reward each with a twenty-dollar bill. How would your daughter feel? Just like the all-day vineyard workers—incensed! So how can this loony landowner reflect the values of the kingdom? Does God treat people unfairly?
The landowner firmly denied being unfair: Friend, didn't you agree to work for a denarius? The worker's silence was an admission that the agreement had not been broken. So why did he grumble? The owner pinpointed the problem: Are you envious because I am generous? This worker envied the owner’s generous treatment of the other workers.
I had enrolled in seminary, in part, because I was looking for a mentor. I struggled to build a relationship with my professors, but was rebuffed by their busyness. I wanted someone I could drop in to chat with—not someone whose secretary made appointments for next month. I wanted someone to talk with about my faults and my future. And though I failed, a few privileged students developed bonds with our professors. As a result, I became jealous of their success and dejected by my failure—"What's wrong with me?" Into this heartache the Vineyard Owner dropped these piercing words: Friend, I am not being unfair to you. . . . Or are you envious because I am generous? God assured me that he would be fair to me. He would create the environment that this seedling needed to grow to maturity. And because he promised to nurture me, I could rejoice in his generosity to my friends.
The plant world is full of unique plants which require unique conditions -- cacti thrive in the desert; water lilies love -- guess what? – water; lettuce relishes cool weather; melons won't grow if it isn't summer-hot. But it isn't just plants that require varying conditions. This parable teaches that God designs special environments for each of his human seedlings also. Thank God he doesn’t treat us the same. He provides the exact conditions that we need to become abundantly fruitful.
2010/03/01
Gardening the Soul: The Master Gardener
God is described as the Master Gardener of our lives. Listen to him sing about his garden:
Sing about a fruitful vineyard: I, the Lord, watch over it; I water it continually. I guard it day and night
so that no one may harm it. . .
If only there were briers and thorns confronting me!
I would march out against them in battle.
I would set them all on fire.
In days to come Jacob will take root,
Israel will bud and blossom
and fill all the world with fruit. (Is.27:2-6)
While God glories in a harvest that will "fill all the world with fruit," (v.6) he also revels in the dirty, daily task of nurturing his garden—“I, the Lord, watch over it; I water it continually. I guard it day and night." (v.2,3) God isn't an apathetic gardener who tosses a few seeds on the ground and hopes that something grows. Nor is he an aristocratic gardener who hires other workers to do his grubby chores. God plants and prunes and protects with his own calloused hands.
As a gardener, I am vexed by the agents of destruction that assault my garden—weeds, wind, worms. But God agonizes over a lack of adversaries! He moans like a war hero during peacetime: "If only there were briers and thorns confronting me. I would march out against them in battle, I would set them all on fire." (v.4). Amazing! We serve a God who aches to attack our foes. All we have to do is ask.
In the next few blogs I will focus on the shape of the Gardener’s work in His garden: What are his ways of watering? his patterns in planting? his hopes for a harvest? We must understand how God works—if he is planning a blizzard, but we are expecting warm sunshine, we can become dangerously disoriented in one of life's storms. But when we understand how the Master Gardener is tilling our soils, then we can coordinate our work with his work to produce a fruitful life.
Sing about a fruitful vineyard: I, the Lord, watch over it; I water it continually. I guard it day and night
so that no one may harm it. . .
If only there were briers and thorns confronting me!
I would march out against them in battle.
I would set them all on fire.
In days to come Jacob will take root,
Israel will bud and blossom
and fill all the world with fruit. (Is.27:2-6)
While God glories in a harvest that will "fill all the world with fruit," (v.6) he also revels in the dirty, daily task of nurturing his garden—“I, the Lord, watch over it; I water it continually. I guard it day and night." (v.2,3) God isn't an apathetic gardener who tosses a few seeds on the ground and hopes that something grows. Nor is he an aristocratic gardener who hires other workers to do his grubby chores. God plants and prunes and protects with his own calloused hands.
As a gardener, I am vexed by the agents of destruction that assault my garden—weeds, wind, worms. But God agonizes over a lack of adversaries! He moans like a war hero during peacetime: "If only there were briers and thorns confronting me. I would march out against them in battle, I would set them all on fire." (v.4). Amazing! We serve a God who aches to attack our foes. All we have to do is ask.
In the next few blogs I will focus on the shape of the Gardener’s work in His garden: What are his ways of watering? his patterns in planting? his hopes for a harvest? We must understand how God works—if he is planning a blizzard, but we are expecting warm sunshine, we can become dangerously disoriented in one of life's storms. But when we understand how the Master Gardener is tilling our soils, then we can coordinate our work with his work to produce a fruitful life.
2010/02/15
Gardening the Soul: Introduction
My love for gardening was nurtured by my land-loving father. He taught me the language of the soil -- crop yields, soil moisture, weed control, weather forecasts. Having grown up on a farm during the drought-plagued 1930’s, he was thrilled by prospects of rain. He often drove my siblings and me to a hill overlooking the city to watch evening thunderstorms rumble in from the west. It was exhilarating, though sometimes frightening, to watch these powerful storms. Later, snuggled in the safety of my bed, I would contentedly drift to sleep to the patter of rain on a tin awning. My father also launched my first major gardening experience. When I was in sixth grade, he helped me and three friends grow two acres of sweet corn that we sold door-to-door. I was hooked -- if God hadn't given me other gifts and callings, I could have joyously earned a living from the soil.
Even today, my youthful infatuation with the land hasn't faded. I spend an hour or two most days from April to November in my garden. During the winters I study gardening books and catalogs, planning for and dreaming about the twenty acres of prairie that my wife and I own. We are cultivating fruit and shade trees, flowers and vegetables. We are restoring the native grasses and wildflowers that once graced our land.
One of the unexpected rewards of gardening has been an illumination of Biblical truth. The Bible was written to an "earthy" people. Its illustrations, metaphors and parables assume an intimate knowledge of the soil -- a knowledge few moderns possess. When Jeremiah claimed that God’s people were depending on broken cisterns or when Hosea pleaded with his people to break up the unploughed ground, these images leave many of us in the dark. Part of the Bible is still untranslated -- land language is a dying tongue.
When God reveals himself to us, he uses the known as a bridge to the unknown. But what happens when common knowledge is not so common? When the Bible compares God to a vine or a vine dresser, modern seekers are left with the unfamiliar (God) being illuminated by the unfamiliar (the vineyard.) We are as lost as a first century student would be with a computer metaphor like "programming our minds."
Though I still consider myself a "kinder-gardener" of the soil and the soul, these blogs will try to help non-gardeners decode the garden images that fill the Bible. Come. Pull on your work gloves. Pick up your spade. Join me in digging into God's eternal truths.
Even today, my youthful infatuation with the land hasn't faded. I spend an hour or two most days from April to November in my garden. During the winters I study gardening books and catalogs, planning for and dreaming about the twenty acres of prairie that my wife and I own. We are cultivating fruit and shade trees, flowers and vegetables. We are restoring the native grasses and wildflowers that once graced our land.
One of the unexpected rewards of gardening has been an illumination of Biblical truth. The Bible was written to an "earthy" people. Its illustrations, metaphors and parables assume an intimate knowledge of the soil -- a knowledge few moderns possess. When Jeremiah claimed that God’s people were depending on broken cisterns or when Hosea pleaded with his people to break up the unploughed ground, these images leave many of us in the dark. Part of the Bible is still untranslated -- land language is a dying tongue.
When God reveals himself to us, he uses the known as a bridge to the unknown. But what happens when common knowledge is not so common? When the Bible compares God to a vine or a vine dresser, modern seekers are left with the unfamiliar (God) being illuminated by the unfamiliar (the vineyard.) We are as lost as a first century student would be with a computer metaphor like "programming our minds."
Though I still consider myself a "kinder-gardener" of the soil and the soul, these blogs will try to help non-gardeners decode the garden images that fill the Bible. Come. Pull on your work gloves. Pick up your spade. Join me in digging into God's eternal truths.
2010/01/05
“Wall-to-Wall Parenting”: Part 4
"Give Them Space"
We often become over-involved in our kids’ lives because we feel responsible for constructing our children’s future, “one two-by-four at a time.” So, “to prevent even the tiniest mishap, we believe we should act as stage managers responsible for all production details: casting, costumes, scenery, music, script changes, and making sure no one ever misses a cue or flubs a line. And boy, does that keep us busy!”
It is our fear that drives much of our over-parenting—our fear that our children might stumble. We think it is our calling to keep our children blissful and successful. But as Dr. Alvin Rosenfeld has written, we have forgotten that both joy and sorrow are natural parts of everyone’s life: As the expression goes, into every life some rain must fall. Close friends spend wonderful sleepovers together; sometimes they fight. Sometimes they make up; other times they remain lifelong enemies. Some nights you have wonderful dreams; on others you have nightmares. Arms get broken; walls gets scaled. Challenges are overcome; life defeats you temporarily. Santa gets you just what you want; Santa gets it all wrong. Toys give great pleasure; sometimes a treasured one breaks. Pets run away and get run over. [Some dogs] have wonderful poppies that friends want for their own; some have pup-pies no one else wants so you have to take them to the pound. The new school is great and you make friends even though you miss the old ones; the new school that you thought was going to be terrific actually is terrible; teachers can be wonderful, inspiring; teachers can be unfair; some teachers simply ought to find an-other line of work.
Parents can not and should not protect their children from every painful experience. Our “compulsion to have our fingers in every mud pie our children make” is not healthy for our kids. Though they occasionally need our coaching, eventually they must develop the drive, the discipline, and the skills to depend on God, rather than us, to solve their problems. When they have a problem with a friend or a coach or their health, encourage them to turn to God first--He is certainly a better counselor than we are!
As I conclude this series on the over-involved parent, remember: You will find it easier to determine the limits of your job as a parent, when you put God at the center of your family life. What is your primary focus—your relationship with God or your relationship with your children?If we build our lives around our children, they will grow up self-obsessed rather than God- and other-obsessed. And what will we do when they are gone? We joke about the empty-nest syndrome but part of it caused by our over-commitment to our kids.
We often become over-involved in our kids’ lives because we feel responsible for constructing our children’s future, “one two-by-four at a time.” So, “to prevent even the tiniest mishap, we believe we should act as stage managers responsible for all production details: casting, costumes, scenery, music, script changes, and making sure no one ever misses a cue or flubs a line. And boy, does that keep us busy!”
It is our fear that drives much of our over-parenting—our fear that our children might stumble. We think it is our calling to keep our children blissful and successful. But as Dr. Alvin Rosenfeld has written, we have forgotten that both joy and sorrow are natural parts of everyone’s life: As the expression goes, into every life some rain must fall. Close friends spend wonderful sleepovers together; sometimes they fight. Sometimes they make up; other times they remain lifelong enemies. Some nights you have wonderful dreams; on others you have nightmares. Arms get broken; walls gets scaled. Challenges are overcome; life defeats you temporarily. Santa gets you just what you want; Santa gets it all wrong. Toys give great pleasure; sometimes a treasured one breaks. Pets run away and get run over. [Some dogs] have wonderful poppies that friends want for their own; some have pup-pies no one else wants so you have to take them to the pound. The new school is great and you make friends even though you miss the old ones; the new school that you thought was going to be terrific actually is terrible; teachers can be wonderful, inspiring; teachers can be unfair; some teachers simply ought to find an-other line of work.
Parents can not and should not protect their children from every painful experience. Our “compulsion to have our fingers in every mud pie our children make” is not healthy for our kids. Though they occasionally need our coaching, eventually they must develop the drive, the discipline, and the skills to depend on God, rather than us, to solve their problems. When they have a problem with a friend or a coach or their health, encourage them to turn to God first--He is certainly a better counselor than we are!
As I conclude this series on the over-involved parent, remember: You will find it easier to determine the limits of your job as a parent, when you put God at the center of your family life. What is your primary focus—your relationship with God or your relationship with your children?If we build our lives around our children, they will grow up self-obsessed rather than God- and other-obsessed. And what will we do when they are gone? We joke about the empty-nest syndrome but part of it caused by our over-commitment to our kids.
2009/11/12
Wall-to-Wall” Parenting: Part 3
"Cutting Back (Continued)"
Divorce statistics suggest that parents have focused too much on their kids—the second highest divorce rate is found in the years just after the kids leave home. These parents over-invested in their kids and under-invested in their marriage. So, what other ways should parents scale back?
You aren’t shirking your parental duty if you let your child work out her own social difficulties. When psychologist John Rosemond’s daughter was in middle high, she experienced agonizing social rejection—primarily because she still looked like a little girl. Rosemond explained how he and his wife responded: “We wanted desperately to solve this problem for her. We thought of calling some of the mothers of the more popular girls and asking for their help. We thought of throwing a big expensive birthday party for Amy and inviting all of the popular girls.... We finally came to our senses. We could not solve this problem for Amy.” As a result, the Rosemond’s shifted their strategy from the short-term goal of helping Amy elevate her popularity quotient to the long-term goal of raising an adult who did not depend on other people’s approval in order to feel that her life was in order.
Instead of trying to solve the problem for her, they chose to give her the tools to solve it herself. They told her: “Amy, we know this is painful, but you will not be thirteen forever. Some day, you will be thirty, and all this will seem unimportant then. Furthermore, what you are experiencing today is helping you learn how important it is to never treat another person the way these girls are treating you. It’s also helping you learn to stand on your own two feet, to not depend on other people for a sense of well-being." Though Amy wasn’t thrilled by the speech, she later came to see the wisdom and rightness of her parents’ counsel.
You aren’t shirking your duties as a parent if you don’t help your child with her homework every night. Our culture’s worship of achievement has led many parents to assume a major role in their kids’ school work—checking assignments, reviewing for tests, searching for resources, editing papers, and more. This can be very effective in the short term (i.e., good grades) but what are the long term consequences? Ultimately it produces a de-pendent child and an exhausted parent. Parents justify their efforts by claiming their child would fail if he didn’t receive help. But what is so crushing about failure? A failing grade can be one of the most powerful incentives for change. Ultimately, a child has to learn to take the initiative and solve his own problems—unless you plan to be his roommate in college!
Divorce statistics suggest that parents have focused too much on their kids—the second highest divorce rate is found in the years just after the kids leave home. These parents over-invested in their kids and under-invested in their marriage. So, what other ways should parents scale back?
You aren’t shirking your parental duty if you let your child work out her own social difficulties. When psychologist John Rosemond’s daughter was in middle high, she experienced agonizing social rejection—primarily because she still looked like a little girl. Rosemond explained how he and his wife responded: “We wanted desperately to solve this problem for her. We thought of calling some of the mothers of the more popular girls and asking for their help. We thought of throwing a big expensive birthday party for Amy and inviting all of the popular girls.... We finally came to our senses. We could not solve this problem for Amy.” As a result, the Rosemond’s shifted their strategy from the short-term goal of helping Amy elevate her popularity quotient to the long-term goal of raising an adult who did not depend on other people’s approval in order to feel that her life was in order.
Instead of trying to solve the problem for her, they chose to give her the tools to solve it herself. They told her: “Amy, we know this is painful, but you will not be thirteen forever. Some day, you will be thirty, and all this will seem unimportant then. Furthermore, what you are experiencing today is helping you learn how important it is to never treat another person the way these girls are treating you. It’s also helping you learn to stand on your own two feet, to not depend on other people for a sense of well-being." Though Amy wasn’t thrilled by the speech, she later came to see the wisdom and rightness of her parents’ counsel.
You aren’t shirking your duties as a parent if you don’t help your child with her homework every night. Our culture’s worship of achievement has led many parents to assume a major role in their kids’ school work—checking assignments, reviewing for tests, searching for resources, editing papers, and more. This can be very effective in the short term (i.e., good grades) but what are the long term consequences? Ultimately it produces a de-pendent child and an exhausted parent. Parents justify their efforts by claiming their child would fail if he didn’t receive help. But what is so crushing about failure? A failing grade can be one of the most powerful incentives for change. Ultimately, a child has to learn to take the initiative and solve his own problems—unless you plan to be his roommate in college!
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