The Last from Sacred Parenting: A Reality Check

The truth is, only one out of ten billion of us will ever be remembered by history. There will always be the occasional Cleopatras and Napoleons recalled by later generations, but of the billions of people alive on the earth today, less than one-half of one percent will be remembered two hundred years from now. To organize your life around the off-chance that you'll be that one in ten million seems about as stupid as buying a lottery ticker and expecting to win... History is littered with kings and queens and even popes who now rate nothing more than an obscure footnote in obscure history books that nobody reads.

That's a humbling thought, isn't it? As I make preparations for seminary and think about where that road may lead, it gives me great pause. Too many preachers' kids are turned away from the love of Christ by the loss of one or more parents to vocational ministry.

"The cause is too great."

"They can't do it without me."

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me."

All lines I can hear myself saying... All lines that betray deeper thoughts: My identity is in the work; I think I'm more important than I am; I can twist scripture, take it out of context and away from the great themes of the Bible, and manipulate it to justify my actions and desires.

Scary.

Here's the truth: The kingdom's advance is a great cause, but so too is its advance in my family. The sovereign God is running the show, has been since the beginning, and will continue to do so long after I'm gone. And I need good counsel and friends asking hard questions about my time and my priorities.

Father, I so want Peyton to walk with you, to have a heart fully devoted like David. You are too good, too awesome, too loving for me to jeopardize her knowing you by succumbing to lesser desires. Show me how to work for your Kingdom is such an attractive, authentic way that she praises you all the more.

The Next Chapter in My Life

Yesterday I received word that I was accepted into the Masters of Theology program at Dallas Theological Seminary. I'll start classes in late August. I'm excited. I'm nervous. It has been a number of years since I was considered a student. All the study habits and tricks of college have faded in my memory. Over the next couple of years, I'll learn two new languages and volumes of historical trivia. And if I don't get in the way, I'll get to know God more intimately.

Reading the course descriptions actually got me excited today--probably a really good sign. Too many courses, too little time. I'm hoping to get started with 12 hours in the fall. With a newborn, that may prove overzealous, but Rayna and I both want to move quickly. So if we can, we're gonna stretch a bit. Rayna keeps reminding me of a slogan I had early in our marriage: "I can do anything for a season." I've stopped saying that lately probably because of some of the recent seasons.

Exciting times!

The Monster Within

I struggle with anger. Maybe it's because of the red hair or the Irish + Scottish + German background. Whatever the cause, it torments my soul and has left untold volumes of relational damage in its wake. I can identify with Bruce Banner (the incredible Hulk) when he says, "You won't like me when I'm angry."

As I continue to read Sacred Parenting, again and again I find myself in the words Thomas wrote. In a chapter on anger littered with memorable thoughts and insight, I've pulled a handful of quotes to comment on.

Even if we don't recognize parenting as a religious process, it becomes one. Suddenly, issues of fairness, provision, justice, and the future take on transcendent meaning. If you want to enjoy children without these challenging forces shaping your life, then visit a soccer game, rent a kids' video, or hand out treats on Halloween -- but don't become a parent.

Like it or not, ready or not, parenting thrusts you into the deep waters of life. I've been asked a couple times recently when is a good time to have kids. My witty (or perhaps witless) response has been: there's never a good time to have kids. As I think harder on the question, it seems that the time to have kids, in as much as you and I have a say in it, would be when you're at peace with God and your spouse and your feeling compelled to go deeper, to be stretched in new ways, to be humbled. Sure, there's wisdom warranting application, but the hand of the sovereign God is mightier than the most robust plan. For Rayna and I, the journey has led us to new heights of dependence and prayer, community and authenticity, and understanding and peace. And we're just over three months in. With trepidation, I wonder what the next 18 years will hold.

I have to put my emotions to the test and corral them with my intellect. I don't ignore them, but neither should I allow them to drive my reaction. They're just there, like the weather, making the situation more or less pleasant, but they must not determine what I do.

Whether the emotion is anger, hurt, fear, joy, or something else, this is true. When our emotions govern, there's no reliable compass to navigate by. In my case, I've got to pause and ask why I'm angry. If I'm honest, most likely I've been inconvenienced or unintentionally offended. Neither are grounds for a wrathful response, regardless of how much I want to deliver one.

Researchers have found a cluster of nerves, the amygdala, near the brain stem that controls emotions and the physical and hormonal response to them. Strongly associated with the "fight or flight", the amygdala can temporarily override and hijack the rest of the brain. Personally, I think this is perhaps the one area of anatomy most gravely affected by sin and the evil one. Think of all the damage done by lost tempers and unbridled fear.

I know in my heart of hearts that no one loves any child more than the God who created that child. Yes, you would die for that child, but God already has. No one feels that child's pain more than God himself. When you sleep, you forget about your child's ordeal, but God never sleeps. That child's predicament remains always before him, and the Lord never misses a single stab of pain. He hears every sigh, counts every tear, notices every wince.

I remember how hard it was to listen to Peyton cry when we first got her home from the hospital, especially if I thought I could do something about it but shouldn't--like her crying when we put her down for a nap. My ears have numbed to a degree to it, but I think that's a small measure of God's grace to get through it. Thinking about God's 24/7 attentiveness, I can't fathom His heartache.

Our children need to see how offended we feel by their lack of respect and by actions that my endanger their lives or soil their character, or how passionate we become when we see injustice. Our kids will glean a rich harvest merely from watching what raises the ire of their parents and grandparents -- provided we get angry about the right things!

Obviously that last clause is key: get angry about the right things. I get angry about losing a board game or if the Longhorns or Cowboys suffer defeat. Clearly I need to choose better what I let get me riled up. I also get angry about the devastation left by Malaria and HIV/AIDS in Africa. That's one fire I hope Peyton does catch.

Father, I confess my anger. I need your Spirit to rule my amygdala so that I respond as you would: with love always, with anger where need be. Shape me into worthy example for Peyton's sake and my own.

Memories of Africa

Almost a year ago, Rayna and I returned from Africa having spent 4 days in the ghettos of Lusaka, Zambia, 5 days visiting World Vision projects in Mbala and Sinazongwe, Zambia, and 4 days on touring and safari mostly near Kasane, Botswana. An amazing experience!

Last Sunday, the team from Westlake Hills Presbyterian Church that we went with a year ago left for another mission trip to Zambia. My heart longs to be there with them, so my prayers have been repeatedly directed towards the relationships, first, and work, secondarily, ahead of them. My thoughts, too, are frequented by my own memories of the experience.

Our first morning in Mbala with the World Vision project staff began with their customary morning devotions. Somehow someone thought it would be a good idea if one person from the staff and one of the visitors each led part of the devotion. I'll give you one guess who ended up as the representative from our team. You got it: yours truly!

So I followed one of their senior staffers and his well-planned meditation from Isaiah with my own more impromptu thoughts from Genesis 1. I thought it'd be good for me to reflect on the passage again.

In the beginning, God... Genesis 1:1

Too often I approach scripture as a Magic Eight Ball--a toy to shake around, turn over, and find the answers to my problems. Yet this book starts with God. This is His story first and foremost, not mine. The Bible holds many applications for life and living, but they are nested in the larger context of God creating, loving, judging, redeeming, and restoring. God is the main character, the hero in scripture, not me.

In the beginning, God CREATED... Genesis 1:1, emphasis added

I love that creation was intentional. God didn't accidentally let it happen. He didn't passively just allow it to come into existence. No, He initiated. He purposed. He set into motion. Knowing that gives value to what I see and meaning to what happens around me.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Genesis 1:1

The night sky in Mbala was jaw-dropping. I had to adjust my bearing for the rearranged constellations, but the stars seemed to turn on their high beams. The ambient light from the town proved little competition. I remember standing there locked in wonder and amazement at God's craftsmanship.

The timeline given in Genesis 1 gives evangelicals fits. Was the earth actually created in seven days as we measure time, or is there some other explanation? I believe that's the wrong question. to ask of this text. Genesis 1 is the world's introduction to monotheism, not God's instruction manual for how to make a universe. If it were the assembly instructions, it's clarity and detail would rank up there with the guides that accompany children's toys labeled "some assembly required"--completely useless.

No, Genesis 1 sets the stage for God's supremacy over all creation and, more importantly, over all the perceived deities of the day. The sun and moon, the oceans, and all sorts of animals were thought to represent gods or be gods themselves. Genesis say no. God existed before them. He created them. In fact, by saying that light and dark existed before the sun and moon seems like ancient deity trash talk, implying that the sun and moon (and the gods they symbolized) were impotent and had no power at all.

Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground." Genesis 1:26

The imago Dei - the image of God. You and I, we were created as image bearers for the King. While that image may be tarnished by sin, we have dignity because of all creation, we are the only ones crafted in His image.

In addition, when someone carrying the image of a king went somewhere or said something or had something happen to them, it was as if the king went, spoke, or was acted upon. So we too bear the responsibility of going where He would, speaking His word, and treating one another with the humility and reverence due the King. To do otherwise is an act of treason, which would in part justify the death penalty warranted by sin.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day. Genesis 1:31

Day one through five: good days. Day six with the creation of man: very good. How awesome is it that the value we add to creation steps it up a notch? That's what God thinks of us.

What an incredible Creator and a fascinating introduction to God's story!

The Guilt of Parenthood

As the parent of a infant, I must wake up periodically in the wee hours for Peyton. Sometimes I'm more enthusiastic about this than others. Well, that's being too generous and short on authenticity. The reality is that it sucks when I've been asleep for two hours and she starts squawking to do our change 'n' feed ritual. The real kicker is when she decides that this midnight session is not a quick pit stop but rather a full-on, two-plus-hour playtime with Daddy.

I love my daughter, but I joke that not even Jesus wants to be around me at that hour. I am impatient and easily irritated when I think I should be sleeping. And when the frustration escalates, I feel guilty and grossly inadequate as a parent. Shouldn't I be able to show patience and compassion to my precious daughter? Shouldn't I appreciate these special moments when she actually wants to spend time with me? Shouldn't I be able to soothe her back to sleep? Shouldn't I...?

This evening I read a chapter in Sacred Parenting, by Gary Thomas, that spoke directly into my disappointment and guilt, and I'd like to share a couple statements he made.

It dawned on me that not only am I not fully qualified to parent, I also have to admit that sometimes -- out of weariness, distraction, or whatever -- I don't even live up to my own capabilities. I'm less than my best, even though I realize my best isn't good enough!

I get that. It's the God's honest truth about me too. Thankfully Rayna knows more about this kid stuff than I do, but even together it feels like we navigate largely on our best guess. I figure I missed the line where God handed out the instruction manual for raising kids.

The reality is that Peyton needs complete love and compassionate truth, and I'm not capable of delivering that 100% of the time. By God's grace, I get it right sometimes, but I'm far from perfect. Just like me, she needs what only God can provide. If I try to shoulder that responsibility, that unfailing, perfect love, then I'm taking on a mantle I can't carry. And when I think or act like I can, then I supplant Yahweh's role in her life and try to make me her god.

What a great relief! I don't have to be perfect or put on some facade for Peyton. I'm not suggesting that it's okay for me to remain short-fused. No, God is still at work in me on that character issue. But when it comes to Peyton, I have to love her to the best of my abilities and continue to learn to love her better. And when I fail, and fail I will, I need to ask for forgiveness, pursue reconciliation, and show her that Daddy needs Jesus too.

It's no accident that we have the children we have; God made them and placed them in our care. When he did so, he knew our limitations, but he still entrusted us with these children.

Again, the sovereignty of an all-knowing God brings me great peace. God knew that at 31 years old, I still wouldn't have all the answers. He knew how far I would still have to go in character school and what subjects I would need remedial help in. He knew I would be past my all-nighter years--those were exhausted in college and in my early to mid twenties for the most part. He knew. This not a surprise to Him. It's not like He didn't see any of this coming. This is His plan, and knowing all this, He still gave us Peyton and said it was time to become a father. Now I may joke that He's crazy, and he most certainly has a sense of humor; nonetheless, He entrusted Rayna and me with Peyton. He thought it the right idea, the right plan.

I'm looking forward to reading the rest of this book. It's not a parenting how-to book. Gary looks instead at how God uses parenting to shape parents and work in their lives. From what I've read so far, I expect this book will stimulate many more thoughts and reflections.

PS: Gary also wrote Sacred Marriage which I HIGHLY recommend. It challenges our culture's perspective on marriage: what if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy? AWESOME read.