Pressing On

with THE WORD

A study of the Scriptures to discover who God is, what He is like, and how to partner with Him now.

The three words every parent really wants to hear

Parenting is hard.  It just is.  Long days, many long nights, and a constant dread that your failings are going to cause massive therapy sessions or not have your child prepared to do life on their own.  There are many things that encourage us parents along the way – the hugs, the hard-fought test being passed (or even aced!), the growth in skills, the development of their personality, the proud-of-them moments – but some seasons are just hard for everyone involved.

Now that we’re on the “other side” of parenting and both boys are living their adult lives, there’s been a phrase, when it comes out in normal conversation, that brings about a great sigh of relief and makes my heart smile. 

You might assume it’s “I love you” – and as much as I love hearing it, that’s not the one.
You may suggest it’s “I need you” – and while that is a nice thought, it’s not it, either.
You could think I’d like to hear “You were right” – and it’s close to that, but better.

The phrase that makes every struggle of parenting feel worth the effort is to hear your child say “Now I understand.

The first time I heard this from either of our boys came from our oldest son.  It was the summer before his senior year of high school, and we were in the process of moving to a new state.  As we reflected on our time in West Virginia, the place he had grown up, he made the following statement:

“When we were little, I always thought you guys were being mean to us for making us do chores and clean our room.  I hated the way you made us do things over and over even if we thought we were done.  But now I understand that you were teaching us how to do it right so we could do it on our own.”

I honestly wish I had recorded that moment, but the replay lives on in my mind.  When your child realizes that you’ve been on their side all along – even when they believed you were the enemy – that moment is validation for the chores, the tears, the anguished prayers, and the trying-agains.  For a child to be able to say those things demonstrates they have reached a significant maturity milestone.  That is a summit that changes their perspective and unlocks a new phase in your relationship.

The author of Hebrews wanted his readers to take this same step with their Heavenly Father.  Toward the end of his letter, he offered this advice:

Hebrews 12:7, 9-10
Endure suffering as discipline: God is dealing with you as sons.  For what son is there that a father does not discipline?...Furthermore, we had human fathers discipline us, and we respected them.  Shouldn’t we submit even more to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time based on what seemed good to them, but He does it for our benefit, so that we can share in His holiness.

The author’s comparison is as simple as it is profound.  Our parents are examples, for better or worse, for us to reference as we figure out life.  Our earthly father and mother did the best they could, and we still afford to respect them.  Why do we not view God’s actions in our lives the same way?  Especially since we know that God is good…and if He is good, then his discipline is for our benefit.  The benefit is that as we mature, we can share in His holiness.  This sharing in His holiness is to distinctly be like God, demonstrating His character traits and love to the world in such a way that everyone says “you’re a chip off the old block” and they see your Heavenly Father in the way you do life.

The author then says:

Hebrews 12:11
No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

IF we see our sufferings as God’s discipline…and IF we are trained by it…then, later on, we’ll experience peace and right-living, with our character reminding others of our Heavenly Father.  At that point, I expect we’ll turn to God and say:

Now I understand.

Keep Pressing,
Ken