Creative Disobedience

My son, Kenny, is very smart. He’s also very creative. Sometimes, these two qualities make for an interesting combination.

When Kenny was three-and-a-half, he had his own opinions about what he did and did not want to do (actually, he still has his own opinions in this area). Unfortunately, sometimes his desires conflicted with the desires his dad and I had for him.

Often, if I told Kenny to do something he didn’t want to do, he would say, “Noooooooo.” Each time, I would say, “Kenny, you’re not allowed to tell Mommy no. You say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”

For awhile, we seemed to be making no progress. Kenny would continue to say, “Noooooooo,” and I would repeat “Kenny, you’re not allowed to tell Mommy ‘no.’” (If I had a dollar for every time we went through this routine, I would be writing this from my own personal island in the Bahamas.)

Then, one day…progress! Only…it wasn’t the right kind of progress.

I told Kenny to do something he didn’t want to do, and instead of saying, “Noooooooo,” Kenny said—are you ready for this?—“Mohhhhhhhhh.” That’s right—same inflection, but different beginning consonant. He was obeying the letter of the law but completely missing the spirit.

Kenny’s creativity didn’t stop there. Another of his favorite responses when told to do something was, “Whyyyyyyyy?” I tried to use the same response: “Kenny, you are to say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”

But Kenny had learned how to beat the system. It only took a few repetitions of this command before he indeed stopped saying “Whyyyyyyyy?” and began saying, instead, “Whuhhhhhhh?”

Creative disobedience.

Kenny was obeying me in a legalistic sense. He had stopped doing the things I was trying to prohibit him from doing. But the deeper heart issues—the issues of selfishness and rebellion that caused him to disobey me—remained unresolved.

It’s the same way between us and God.

How many times does God give us a clear command in his word, and we try to find every way in the world to obey technically while still getting to do what we want to do?

I know you say to put you first, God, so I’ll attend church every time the doors are open. I’ll even serve on a committee or two. I just don’t have time to spend extra time at home reading my Bible and praying.

Or, I know you say to be kind to others, God, so I’ll donate to the county food pantry. But my kids (or my husband) irritate me so much, God, you can’t really expect me to always be patient with them.

Or even, I know you say to respect my husband, God, so I won’t criticize him in public. I’ll save that for when we’re at home.

You see? We try to find a way to get credit for obeying while still getting what we want.

Our deeper heart issues remain unresolved.

It is this kind of behavior that prompted Jesus to call the Pharisees ‘white-washed tombs’. It is this kind of behavior that causes a watching world to say, “Christians aren’t any different from anybody else.” It is this kind of behavior that drives a wedge between us and God and keeps our hearts far from him, even while on the outside, we’re earning all the stars for our Sunday School chart.

How do you think God feels about this?

He’s grieved.

Friends, God doesn’t want mere obedience. He doesn’t want an outward show. He wants our hearts.

In what areas are you holding back part of your heart from God? In what ways are you trying to maintain an outward semblance of obedience, while inside, you’re going your own way?

Spend some time today laying your heart before God and asking Him to lay it bare. After all, if you needed physical surgery on your heart, you wouldn’t put it off if you valued your physical life. If you truly value your spiritual life, you’ll want to make sure your spiritual heart is healthy, too.

Psalm 51:16-17—You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

Psalm 139:23-24—Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Am I Okay, Mommy?

I didn’t see exactly what happened. I had one of my younger daughter’s diapers in hand, and she and I were heading into my son’s room so I could use his wipes to change her diaper. As I walked toward the door of his room, I heard him fussing, and at the same time, I realized that he was crouched on the floor in a kind of odd position. From the expression on his face, I could tell he wasn’t seriously hurt, but I knew that he had fallen.

“Oh, you bonked,” I said sympathetically. (Around our house, “bonked” is the technical term for “fell down.”)

Kenny looked up at me with his big, liquid brown eyes, the expression on his face halfway between tears and calm, as if ready to go either way at any moment. “Are you okay, Mommy?” he asked pitifully. “Are you okay?”

He meant, of course, “Am I okay?”

“You’re okay, Kenny,” I said comfortingly. “You’re okay.”

Kenny got up then without crying, and went about his business. And as I continued on into his room to change my daughter’s diaper, I realized, oh, the parallels between Kenny’s situation and our situation as children of God.

Something bad had happened to Kenny. It was bad, and it was unexpected. He fell down, and it probably scared him and maybe even hurt him a little. He didn’t know how to react. Was this a bad situation? Was it not so bad? Should he cry? Shouldn’t he? What should he do?

Kenny sought out the best person he knew to help him make sense of the situation—me. “Am I okay, Mommy?” he asked in his own way. “Am I okay?”

I calmly and comfortingly assured him that he was, in fact, okay, and that was all he needed to enable him to move on and put the “bonk” behind him. He didn’t stay there on the floor arguing with me or doubting me; he accepted my assessment of the situation and moved forward in life as if he knew—which he did—that what I had said was completely true.

Do we do the same with God? First, when we encounter the unexpected bonks of life that scare us and maybe even hurt us a little (or a lot), is the first thing we do to seek out God to make sure we are okay? Or do we focus on our pain, physical or emotional, and decide we’re not okay before we even talk to him?

Kenny could have done that. He could have started crying, and he would have been justified. It’s okay to cry and be upset when you’re scared and hurt. I would have comforted him, and eventually, he would have moved on anyway. But the way he chose to respond worked out much better for him.

There are times in life when we are hurt, and there is no possibility of seeing it otherwise. If Kenny had broken his leg when he fell, he would have been undeniably hurt. Likewise, when tragedy strikes us, we are undeniably wounded. Life hurts sometimes. Pain crops up unexpectedly, and it scares us. And like a small child might, we cry.

That’s okay. It’s okay to cry when we’re hurt, and to seek comfort in the Father’s arms. But we have to be careful not to decide we’re seriously injured when really, we aren’t. Sometimes, it’s better to check with the Father for His wisdom on how to react, before we decide we’re seriously wounded.

But during those times when the hurt is unmistakable, when we’ve come crashing down, or our life has come crashing down around us, we cry, and we should do what Kenny would have done, had he been seriously injured—seek out our Father. Maybe we can’t run to him because we’ve been injured so badly, but you know what? He’ll come to us. That is part of the beauty of His love and grace.

Either way—as we check with Him to discover how badly we are injured, or as we cling to Him sobbing—eventually He’ll tell us, “You’re okay. Child, you’re okay.”

God doesn’t minimize our pain. Remember that He lived on earth, too. Scripture tells us that He cried when one of His best friends died. He knows physical pain, and grief. He knows tears. He knows sorrow.

But He also has an eternal perspective. He knows that whatever might happen to us, we are still okay—and not just when our circumstances are pleasant. He knows that we can be okay even in the midst of agonizing pain and tragedy.

How can we be okay when inside, we’re breaking? When our heart is being torn in two, and we feel like we can’t take it? When the blows just won’t stop coming, and we feel like maybe we’ve gone down for the last time?

The answer lies in His loving heart and hands. Because ultimately, what makes us “okay” has nothing to do with our circumstances. Ultimately, we are okay because God loves us and will never leave us. If we equate being “okay” with having pleasant circumstances we feel equipped to handle, then we may spend much of our lives being “not okay”.

Dear friend, where does your security come from? Are you okay today? If not, crawl into the Father’s lap as fast as you can and talk to Him. Hear His loving care for you. If you are okay—is it because your circumstances are pleasant? Or is it because you know in the depths of your soul that no matter what happens, you will be okay because being okay comes from eternal security and not from temporal pleasantness? Oh, friend, if you’re not sure, crawl into His lap and let Him speak to your heart and soul.

You will be okay.

He promises.

Romans 8:38-39—For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Hockey Referee

For Mother’s Day, I’m thinking of asking for one of those black and white striped shirts like hockey referees wear. I figure that I spend a significant portion of some of my days pursuing the career of referee, so I need a referee shirt. Plus, you don’t see hockey players failing to take the referee seriously. I think it’s because of the shirt. So maybe, if I wore a referee shirt, my kids would take me seriously.

I’d also need a whistle—one of those big ones that with one blast could send birds dropping out of the trees like rocks. I don’t really want to injure any birds, but it sure would be nice if I could blow a whistle and have my kids stop still.

So there you have it—a perfect Mother’s Day gift. A referee shirt and a whistle.

I think these accoutrements would have helped me one particular day that I remember. It was not a good day, in terms of my kids keeping their hands to themselves. My son, who was two-and-a-half, had developed a taste for hitting. He didn’t do it to be mean. He just did it because his sister (either one) was in his way, and he wanted her to move. Or, she had made him mad—which apparently meant he had to hit her in revenge. He also liked pushing. Again, he didn’t do it to be mean. He just wanted to see what would happen if you gave a quickly crawling baby a strong push on the bottom. (Note: she’d fall flat on her face and begin to cry.)

So there was Kenny’s desire to push or hit anyone who was in his way or made him mad, or to do the same any time he wanted to see the effects. And this desire of his kept running smack-dab up against the desire of his older sister for him not to do that. She didn’t like being pushed or hit, and she wouldn’t get out of his way, even when he did it. She would stand there and scream and cry like he was killing her, but she most certainly wouldn’t walk away (because that might mean she wouldn’t get out the door first and therefore wouldn’t get to choose the coveted rear seat in the van).

So if I had the right gear, I could stop all these little brouhahas quick as—well—a whistle. (Remember that if you have the right gear, even hockey players, who are notorious for fighting, have to take you seriously.) I could march right up to them and blow the whistle. They would stop, surprised, and look at me. I could then send the offender to the penalty box. That’s nothing more than a time-out for hockey players. (I wonder if a mother invented that.) After the penalty was over, the offender could come out and play nice, and the offended party could let him (or her) back in the game.

Sometimes, it does indeed work like this. That’s what time-outs are for. But I get really tired, just as you do, of spending my days repeating the same things: don’t hit your sister. Be nice. Say you’re sorry. Stop screaming. Your brother was there first. Give that back. And I get tired of hearing screams and tears of outrage from my barely-wronged daughter who feels she has been grievously wronged and is giving a performance worthy of an Oscar. I’m really tired of this, I sometimes think to myself. Why can’t they just get along?

Do you ever wonder if God thinks the same thing? Not about our children, but about us? Do you ever wonder if he gets tired of refereeing our petty squabbles?

Though it isn’t right, children can reasonably be expected to do a certain amount of fighting and arguing, and maybe even hitting and pushing. They’re children, after all, and they don’t have the emotional maturity to deal with conflict in the way we would like them to. They also may not have the Holy Spirit in their hearts yet, convicting them of sin. But we who are adults and have received the precious gift of the Holy Spirit should know better. Yet we continue to grumble against others; we criticize; we say other things we shouldn’t say; and sometimes, we even push and hit. And we put the Holy Spirit in the middle as referee.

I know when Kenny’s hitting Ellie, and when she’s screaming and crying, they don’t feel much like loving each other. So what do I do as a parent? I try to help them learn to love at all times so that these kinds of situations (where loving gets difficult) never occur in the first place. God has done the same thing. He has given us his Word and his Holy Spirit to help us learn how to love others “in advance”—so that things don’t get to the point of conflict.

So the next time your kids are fighting, put on your referee shirt and go break it up—and then ask God to bring to mind any situations where he’s had to act as referee between you and someone else. And then go and make it right.

Psalm 133:1—How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!

Two Crackers

This summer, we attended our second annual family reunion at a campground in East Texas. The country was beautiful, with tall pine trees and lush green foliage. (“We’re in a jungle!” Kenny shouted, awed, as we passed between rows of huge, leafy trees whose branches almost met overhead.) Walking through the campground, one of the first things I noticed was the sunny, quiet calm, where the only sounds I heard were nature’s sounds. My spirit eagerly drank in the peace.

It was wonderful to be with family. We all live far enough apart that we don’t see each other as often as we’d like. So we met at the campground for a Friday-Saturday reunion, to spend time enjoying each other and catching up on news.

Being as this was a southern family, we also enjoyed a lot of good, home cooking. You just can’t have a southern family reunion without massive amounts of homemade, special-recipe, delicious food. Since there were several children present, there were also copious snacks.

At one point, my two-year-old daughter, Lindsey, wanted a snack. “Cookies!” she requested, pointing to the Ritz crackers.

“Those are crackers, sweetheart,” I said. I picked up the box of crackers and a Styrofoam bowl from the counter, preparing to pour several of the crackers into it.

“Two crackers!” Lindsey said, holding up her hands and making gripping motions.

“I’ll get you some crackers,” I assured her.

“I want two crackers!” She extended her arms straight up, her hands ready.

“I’ll get you some,” I repeated, pouring several crackers into the bowl. As I did, I thought to myself, It’s a good thing I didn’t give her only what she asked for, or she wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much.

I bet God feels the same way when He thinks about our requests.

In His Word, He not only invites us, but commands us to come boldly to His throne of grace with our requests. (Hebrews 4:16) Elsewhere, He tells us to test Him and see if He will not pour out His storehouses of blessings upon us. (Malachi 3:10) We are also told to come to God on all occasions with all kinds of requests. (Ephesians 6:18) Perhaps most bluntly of all, we are admonished that we “have not, because [we] ask not.” (James 4:2)

Let me be clear: these verses are not necessarily talking about material blessings. Yes, it is right to ask God for material things we need. After all, He has promised to provide for us. But these verses refer primarily to spiritual blessings.

There is no way to obligate God to provide us with a new car or new clothes—indeed, with anything—merely by asking “correctly”. He has, however, provided us with “every spiritual blessing.” (Ephesians 1:3)

Dear mommy friend, are you asking God for two crackers? Or are you asking for a bowlful?

Are your prayers limited to requests such as, “Please be with me,” or “Please bless so-and-so,” or “Please make my kids behave”? Or do they include larger petitions like, “Jesus, You came so that I could have abundant life. (John 10:10) Right now, in the midst of diapers and housework, tantrums and carpools, life doesn’t feel too abundant. I ask You to show me what the truth of Your Word looks like in my circumstances, so that I can experience abundant life and others will be drawn to you”?

Fortunately for Lindsey, I desired to give her far more than she asked for.

Fortunately for us, God desires to give us far more than we ask for. In fact, He desires to give us “abundantly more than all we ask or imagine.” (Ephesians 3:20)

So ask Him for your deepest needs (which usually aren’t material things at all). Ask Him boldly.

And if you are asking for His glory—which is key—you can expect to receive.

Not just two crackers, but a bowlful.

Ephesians 3:20-21—Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.