Little Hakims, Growing in Wisdom, Stature, and Favor with God and with Man

Actually, the title of this hint doesn't go quite far enough.  It might be better to begin with, "As a parent, I'm not even my own."

I'm created.  I owe my entire existence to my Creator, and I don't have a "right" to anything.

I'm redeemed.  Not for a single moment has my heart really lived up to the previous paragraph.  Every moment, my best righteousnesses, are polluted filth before God.  I am a cosmic rebel, everything I have ever done being an attack upon His throne, competing for His authority and glory.  I have never had a motive that was not at some level mixed with a desire to exert my will and advance my praise.  Even in our corruption, we understand that treason against a human king is worthy of death; what then eternal treason against an infinitely good King whose right is absolutely unquestionable?  And the cost at which He purchased my escape from the consequence, AND my deliverance from the condition of being enslaved to that, AND the guarantee that this deliverance SHALL BE complete in my being conformed to the image of His Son... was His own blood.

So, I'm not my own.

I don't get to set my agenda.  My desires are only valid insofar as they follow His revealed will.  I have neither the right nor the need to know everything that He is doing; nor could I begin to comprehend it, as the briefest glimpse would break my mind and burst my heart.  He has told some of that agenda in broad brushstrokes, and there are many particular details in Scripture, but these all send me the more to defer to His wisdom, to rest in His power, to rejoice in His love.

I don't get to pick the methods.  If the secret things belong to God, how much gladder I am that the revealed things are for us and our children that we may do all the words of His instruction!  It might be maddening if He had told us nothing.  And we are certainly insane if after He has given us instructions, which He Himself has declared sufficient for every good work, we set about carving out our own.

I don't get to depend upon myself.  All parental anxiety is sin.  That's a hard one to swallow.  And, at this point, I suspect that it's a lifetime in learning to practice.  Anxiety is a symptom of self-dependence, self-sufficiency.  Anxiety is unbelief, presenting itself through the emotions.  Can you imagine carrying your child up the stairs to lay her in bed, and her constantly wringing her hands about whether she might fall and break her neck.  What would that communicate about her confidence in your ability to the task?  Our anxiety is like that to God but infinitely worse.

I don't get to take any credit.  Suppose that God sets the goals, God gives the methods, and God does all the sustaining; and then, suppose that some of it goes well.  Does it make any sense at all to puff up with pride when someone remarks at "how good" my children are?  Is it not sheer madness to look down my nose at another parent?

I do get all the blame.  Every particle of their sin is attributable directly to me.  It is my nature that they have inherited.  And I have done nothing but compound that with foolishness and continued sin of my own since they were born.

The cross and the resurrection are everything.

The cross is everything, because I don't just deserve for me to go to Hell.  I deserve for my children to go to Hell.  And they deserve it too.  We both deserve for them to remain dead in their sin.  We both deserve for them to just get better and better at exerting their will, as opposed to Gods, at living for their own pleasure and praise.  Without the cross, this is the only possible thing that could happen to them.  But praise God that we are not without the cross.  Praise be to His wonderful name that I have a sure hope that God may be perfectly just, and treat me and my children as Christ deserves, rather than as we deserve.

The resurrection is everything, because it shows that the cross worked.  The resurrection is everything, because it is the guarantee and the demonstration of how everyone who is in Christ must end.  The resurrection is the answer to every "I can't" that escapes my heart or my children's lips in this long process called parenting.  The resurrection presents the only acceptable goal of parenting, and the guaranteed end of every instance of parenting that God is pleased to bless.  And the resurrection is evidence that God is in fact pleased to bless.

To paraphrase the first two questions, and quote the first two answers, of the Heidelberg catechism:

"What is your only comfort in being a parent?"  That I, with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Savior Jesus Christ; who with His precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and delivered me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must be subservient to my salvation, wherefore by His Holy Spirit He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto Him.

"How many things are necessary for you to know that you in this comfort may parent happily?"  Three; the first, how great my sins and misery are; the second, how I am delivered from all my sins and misery; the third, how I am to be thankful to God for such deliverance.

For further reading:
Deuteronomy 5-6, Deuteronomy 29 (esp. v29), Romans 1-8
Duties of Parents
Hints for Parents

Labels: parenting

One individual has encouraged me to write some "hints" on family, parenting, and homeschooling.  So I've decided to write a series at this blog that will hopefully be just that: hints.  I don't think I have the time or skill to do much more than that, and I probably am not self-reflective enough to produce a cohesive whole.  But I think it will be a good exercise for me to think through the components of where Heather and I are at, and maybe even some of how we got here.

Labels: parenting

I try very hard to keep my life uncluttered, because I'm a husband and a father, and this means that my primary vocation is to disciple a family. In our house, this means four 15-minute worship services a day, in addition to intentional and personally tailored discipling interaction with each member.

For instance, today, I'm thinking about my current approach with Emmet.

I'm trying to teach Emmet to quit himself like a man. Recently, in the application in a sermon, I noted that we cannot begin to be diligent until we "don't feel like it," cannot begin to build strength until "it's too hard," and cannot begin to build endurance until "I'm too tired."  So, I've set out to give my children a vision for relishing as great opportunities those tasks that they don't feel like doing, that they find difficult, and for which they simply don't have the energy.  Not only are such circumstances the prerequisites for building diligence, strength, and endurance; but, they are also wonderful opportunities to confess and exercise our necessary and continual dependence upon grace in both earthly and spiritual things. 

So yesterday afternoon, I brought Emmet to the office to set up tables for prayer meeting; he'd had four immunization shots in the morning, and his arms were really hurting, but he winced through carrying the other end of tables that weigh more than he did. At one point, after we set one down, he looked up it me with a big satisfied smile, and said, "Did Giddo ['grampa' in Egypt] teach you to build endurance when you were five years old, dad?" He woke up extremely sore today, but a good sore. I'm just so pleased with the child.  And I let him know it.

Don't get me wrong--he's a spectacular sinner (gets it from dad) to the point that he often ends up weeping in my arms that his heart just seems to be full of sin and Satan seems to have such an easy time with him. But even those moments are such gospel opportunities to point Him to the Holy Spirit who doesn't just perform spiritual improvement on messed up souls but spiritual resurrection on dead souls; and, to Jesus Christ, who doesn't just fill in where our obedience is lacking, but who provides in Himself the entire righteous obedience that earns our favor with God, and whose sacrifice is so infinitely valuable that there is no sinner for whom it is not rich enough to ransom from Hell; and, to our amazing Father, who lovingly gives us both Son and Spirit as the greatest gifts and fills all of creation and our entire life with other blessings to keep us constantly mindful of His loving provision.

Yes, this means that sometimes one discipline "moment" takes 10 minutes: (1) biblical instruction specific to the heart issue of the incident (2) prayer for God's forgiveness and blessing (3) application of discipline (4) conversation, evangelism, sometimes more prayer... BUT these 10 minute chunks are some of the most important ministry that I do.


And sometimes each of my children need a few of these in a single day.  This means that just in the discipling of my children, I might need 2-3 hours of "flex time" in a day!

There may be men who can regularly engage in leisure activities and social activities and service commitments and clubs and projects and still be able to pour themselves into discipling their families.  I'm skeptical of the idea, but they may exist. I am quite certain, however, that I am not one of them.  And so I work hard to keep my life uncluttered.

And this means that when people ask me what my hobbies are, or favorite tv show is, or something along those lines, there's often an awkward pause while I try to figure out how to not spend a half hour saying I don't have the spare half-hours to give to those things :)

Labels: Emmet, parenting.

After breakfast reading this morning, we closed the meal with song, and I asked the children what they would like to sing. Kessedi selected Psalm 100, Emmet selected Psalm 1, and Karissa also asked for a song--"God." I was pretty sure that she meant the doxology, and desiring to encourage her to actively participate (not just be respectfully quiet) in our family worship times, I announced that we would sing the doxology, which Karissa had chosen.
As we sang it, she looked from one face to another around the table with laughing, dancing eyes. When we finished she asked, "Can we sing again?" I said that we could but that she must sing with us.
We did. And she did. She sang quite well, actually, to the point that Kessedi and Emmet both encouraged her afterward with praise for how well she had sung.
Immediately, she asked, "Can we sing again?"

Labels: Karissa

At breakfast today, we went on into the lunch reading, which is currently in Isaiah. In Isaiah 17, Kessedi's attention was captured by the roar and the dust as the army from the east was coming in judgment. Emmet wanted to know why Syria and Israel were being judged, so we looked at the immediate context to see that they had joined together in creating worship that they enjoyed, and looking to their own kind of worship--and that God says that when we don't delight in worship as something He has given us to do according to His instructions, we aren't really looking to Him but to ourselves. So, I explained, God was bringing this army to kill and capture almost all of the Syrians and Israelites as a judgment.
Emmet then asked, "but when we die, that won't be a judgment, right?" I explained to him that for those who trust in Jesus nothing--not even their death--is a judgment, because Jesus has taken all of our judgment. I referred him back to last night's sermon and how for those who are in Christ, we know that all things--even their deaths--work together for the good of their being made like Jesus and enjoying God forever. Emmet's eyes lit up, and he was satisfied with this explanation of the deaths of believers.
Kessedi then piped up, "Daddy, will you teach us the Bible?" To which I answered, "that's what we're doing right now." To which she answered (perhaps from an application that I made in the morning sermon yesterday), "I mean the whole Bible. Can you teach us the whole Bible in one day?" I explained to her that I didn't think I was able, but that with God's help I intend to teach all of my children the whole Bible as often as God makes me able.
These are the moments that make a believing father's heart sing. I'm so grateful to God for giving me such a moment at breakfast this morning.

Labels: Emmet, Kessedi

Emmet has a precious toy--an ambulance that once belonged to MJ's son, who died in childhood. He doesn't understand the sentimental value the way that Heather and I do, but he does know that it's an expression of the depth of MJ's love for him--and he loves the sounds it makes. Well, it hadn't been making those sounds for years, because it uses C batteries (expensive, non-rechargeable). Well, Emmet had a theory. He thought that the battery enclosures looked like they were the exact same length as AAs. Though the enclosures were wider, Emmet thought perhaps a AA battery carefully wedged in would do the trick. He was right! His reward for his experiment was hearing those beloved sounds for the first time in a long time, and a exhibiting an ear-to-ear grin.

Labels: Emmet

On the way to evening worship, Lord's Day, May 10, Heather and I were discussing what a blessing it had been to be part of Mark and Mary's Christ-centered wedding and to see their marriage bring two godly families together. After hearing us speak for a while about how only marriage in Christ is truly blessed, Kessedi piped up from the back seat: "Daddy? When I grow up, would you please find me a Christian husband?" God grant that it would be so!

Labels: Kessedi, marriage