What is Average?

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the average family size is currently 3.14 people. There is nothing average about that. How do you have a .14th of a person? My husband and I once had an averaged sized family, one son and one daughter. That was when I was writing the story . . .
Then I gave God the pen.

Our Yearly Tradition: Leavenworth After Christmas

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

I read until it was done. He bled until it was finished

My heart has been brought to its knees tonight. In a new kind of awe I look at an incredible Saviour who took all my sins and bore them, wore them and tore them in two, separating them as far as the east is from the west.

What brought me to this rarely visited realization was a parenting issue with Wolverine (nickname from school). Let me just begin by saying that parenting in the tech age is an enormous challenge if you want to raise godly children. Even with passwords on our computers, codes on our TV channels and random inspections of texting conversations, the wicked side of the media still has a very loud voice and some of our children are bent towards it.

Today, Wolverine was working an arm's length away from me at the table on our family's laptop. I entered the password to let him in, and then glanced every now and then to check what site he was on. What I didn't know, yet found out later by doing a history check, is that he was on a music site with lyrics that were xxx. My clue should have been that he had earbuds on.

Parenting failure on my part to ask what he was listening to.

Now I'll be the first to confess that I can be extreme when it comes to driving a point home. But my rational is that as long as I have children making extreme choices, then I'll have to come up with an extreme plan-of-correction method to get their attention.

I found the written lyrics for one of the songs Wolverine listened to. Then I asked him to sit in the chair next to me and read the words out loud. (No minors were present). My intention was to have him become horrified at the fact that he was being asked to read those nasty lyrics out loud - in front of his mother! My hope was that he would feel appalled at himself and apologize for going against our family values.

My intention and hope came to a dead stop.

He refused to do what was asked of him. But he didn't refuse with a repentant heart. He refused with determined defiance. I was firm in repeating the request. He was firm in refusing. He said he didn't see anything wrong with the music. It was just "Rap". I shot back, "If you don't see anything wrong with the music, then read the lyrics". He refused, standing stoutly in his position.

It is very rare that I am at a loss of what to do when I don't get compliance from the child I am requesting it from. But Wolverine is no longer a child. He's a young man. He is teetering between a dependent family member and a soon to be independent adult.

Reluctantly and with great hesitation, I slid over into the chair that I asked him to sit in. My voice quivered as I began to read the lyrics.

Out loud.

The words were nasty, and they were degrading. They were unconscionable and despicable. They were the taste of death in my mouth.

Wolverine stood there. He heard each word.
And he didn't tell me to stop.
He didn't cry out, "Mom! Don't read any more words! You don't deserve to have such filth on your lips! Mom, STOP! It was my bad so I'll take the seat and finish reading those awful lyrics".

He didn't want to own it.

I read until it was done.

Afterwards, I took a long walk to decompress. And to confess. And to address my God with a voice that cried out for reasoning. Then a new perspective, a glimpse of what redemption is all about, came to me in a fresh new way.

Without reluctance or hesitation, Jesus took the cross I should have been nailed on. His voice was broken as He read the "lyrics of the sins" in my life.

Out loud.

The words were nasty, and they were degrading. They were unconscionable and despicable. They were the taste of death in His mouth.

I stood there. I heard each word.
And I didn't tell Him to stop.
I didn't cry out, "Jesus! Don't read any more words! You don't deserve to have such filth on your lips! Jesus, STOP! It was my bad so I'll take the cross and finish reading those awful lyrics".

I didn't want to own it.

He took a long walk to Calvary. And His voice cried out "Father! Forgive them! For they don't know what they're doing".

I may have read until it was done.
But Jesus bled until it was finished.

2 comments:

Pure Mommy Extract said...

I'm a big fan of creative parenting =). I'm sorry that you had a rough night with your son. I also realize that part of the call you have accepted involves hard work. Sometimes very hard work...and great patience.

Thank you for your willingness to be a parent to more children and give that love and patience. It is a blessing to more than just the children that you now love.

Laurel said...

Powerful!

Tough stuff! Well done! Praying for Wolverine.