Learning as a lifelong endeavor

Hebrews 5:11-14 (NIV)

We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.

It would not be a great surprise to find myself reciting verse 11 to a son of ours in his teenage years, sitting at the dining room table refusing to take ownership of a mistake he’s made time and time again. I’m sure my parents, especially my mother, could easily come up with a handful of lessons they tried to impart quite regularly, only I made it clear I was unwilling to give their opinion the time of day. I would like to think I finally came around on all of the pertinent points, but maybe they’re still scratching their heads at my stubbornness in a few key areas.

But it’s verse 12 that cuts in on me tonight. By this time, three months away from my 34th birthday, I probably ought to be a better teacher than I am. Yet I still feel I can benefit from being taught the truths of God’s word over and again. While I do rather enjoy getting deep into discussion about challenging theology or exploring concepts I’ve rarely encountered, it seems the most memorable lessons are the ones focused on the elementary topics.

Perhaps that’s more a comment on sermons than it is on a class or small group discussion. As much as I enjoy someone commanding the pulpit who gets my mind working a few new gears, I think I’m most moved by a preacher’s thoughts on the foundations of faith, the cornerstone topics that define a life lived through the filter of God’s saving grace.

Can I always distinguish good from evil? I might know what’s not good for me, but I don’t always know how to keep myself on the straight path. Can I teach my kids about righteousness? I would like to think so, though I’m always worried about raising kids who are self righteous — and of acting in that manner myself. Will I ever not need to be taught the truths of God’s word? Of course not. I’ll always be able to learn more, and hopefully I’ll always want to learn.

There’s always room for improvement in my life — in any aspect of my life. I can be a better writer. I can get my body in better shape. I can sleep more. I can learn to do a few more things around the house. I can make better use of the time I spend with my kids. I can pray more. I can do more to show my wife how much I love her. I can seek God’s desire for me before I act instead of making dumb mistakes and seeking forgiveness. I will always, every day, have opportunities to grow and change, and I sincerely hope I never get to a point where I’ve decided to just stop learning, because that’s the day I stop trying.

Solid food is great. But, as a pretty smart guy once said, man does not live by bread alone. Milk won’t ever leave my diet. I think in this passage God is really calling me to balance — to learn enough to teach, but to never consider myself above learning a few more lessons of my own. And as any experienced parent knows, sometimes the kids do a better job of teaching us about ourselves than we could ever hope to do teaching them about life.

A prayer for May 11:

Lord, open my mind wide to the wonders of your world. Make me ever curious to learn more, to know exactly what it is you are trying to communicate. Never let me become fully satisfied with myself because I know as long as I have breath you are calling me to a specific purpose. But also please help me share what you have taught me with others, especially my kids. Let me speak with your words and wisdom, that I may be a channel for what you want the world to know. Fill me with your love and then let it pour out to anyone in need. Amen.

Look full in his wonderful face

Galatians 1:10 (NIV)

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Right between the eyes — that’s where this verse hit me. I went into today’s readings open minded about a topic to explore, opened up my choices of scripture and ZAP! — there it was: Am I writing this blog to win the approval of other people, or am I responding to the call I felt to begin the project?

Make no mistake, I’m getting a lot out of this work. For one thing, it has forced me to write every day, something I haven’t done since I was a beat reporter more than five years ago. And that was assignment-driven work, which was professionally satisfying but afford me anything like these posts in the way of spiritual examination. For another, it makes me think far more regularly about not just the kind of parent I want to be, but the kind of Christian I want to be.

I go through three to five readings a day looking for inspiration for the blog. So I read and think about more scripture than I use for writing. Much of it has no direct link to parenting, but it does speak to me on other levels. So even if no one read anything I posted, I’d still be finding value from the effort.

As a writer, I want people to see what I create. The more eyes the better. That’s personal ambition. Yet if what I am writing is God-inspired or simply helps people think about parenting in a new way, then I sort of feel like God might be using me to reach out to the world in a way I’ve never really attempted before. Part of trying to cultivate an audience is attempting to grow demand. If I feel like people are expecting new writing, it holds me accountable and forces me to make time to read, reflect and write.

I do like to see how many people have read a certain post. I enjoy comments, Facebook likes and retweets on Twitter. I want to feel like I am making a difference. And yes, I like the attention. I feel like denying that would be wrong. But I must be cautions of Paul’s own self analysis — if I start trying to please people — or simply myself — I am no longer serving my initial call.

My only option, then, is to continue praying about this project. Just like my parenting (and life in general), my writing here will not be perfect. There will be times when it’s far too much of my thoughts and not nearly enough of God’s. So I have to offer it to God as an imperfect offering and ask for continued strength, wisdom, focus and energy. Not my will for this work, but God’s will.

In addition to the verse from Galatians, I go back to two verses from Hebrews that did not jump out at me nearly a month ago when it came up in the lectionary.

Hebrews 12:1-2 (NIV)

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

That brief bit from verse two inspired a hymn running through my head as I sort through tonight’s thoughts: “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of Earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.”

Absolutely words to live by.

A prayer for June 4:

Lord, I thank you for calling me to work on this project, for giving me direction and focus. It has opened your word to me in ways I had not considered and forced me to look inside myself to decide what kind of father, what kind of husband, what kind of person you want me to be. I pray for your continued guidance and inspiration, that what I write may be pleasing to you and that any discussions that result may be for your glory. Do not lot me focus on me, but help me keep the focus on you and your will. Amen.

Fear of the middle

Hebrews 12:5-14 (NIV)

Have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
   and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
   and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined — and everyone undergoes discipline — then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord.

One of the great fears of parenthood is the middle. At present, I am on both sides of the middle. Our children are young enough where our relationship, while at times contentious, is one where our authority over them remains largely unquestioned. Conversely, with my own parents, we are many years into me being an adult, to the point where I respect the discipline and authority they exerted in my youth. But the middle looms.

One at a time, my sons will enter “the middle.” They will stop being my little boys, and in the quest to become men, free of parental control, they will question our authority, our reasons for discipline and, if my own experience is any guide, pretty much everything we say and do for years and years. We will, of course, be doing what we think best, as the passage indicates. Hopefully we will continue to be partners in parenting, with each other and the influence of God through prayer and consideration.

Will we produce “a harvest of righteousness and peace?” I’ll be happy if the kids avoid the emergency room and jail cells and if we’re still on good speaking terms once the middle is past. Already we have seen glimpses of limits being tested, with the boys wanting to know not only what they can get away with, but just how harshly their parents will react when the limit is exceeded. Some of those experiences have been unpleasant enough, but I am completely unprepared for dealing with far more serious circumstances.

To some degree I have had these fears since before Jack was born. I remember being terrified of trying to teach a kid to drive or dealing with high school romances or how to choose a college — any number of things. Finally someone, probably Kristie, reminded me we were going to have a baby, not a teenager. You work yourself up from midnight feedings to the ACT, with the idea being you gain enough experience to handle each new challenge as it comes.

To that end, it’s probably still too early for me to fret about the middle — especially if it takes any of my focus away from today. After all, as Jesus teaches in Matthew 6:34 (NIV), “...do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

But I’m trying to be honest with this blog, and the honest truth is I am scared of how difficult parenting might become. I also fear, which I assume is natural, experiencing the loss of a child or my wife to illness or accident, or of something similar happening to me and them having to grow up without me around. But in large part those fears are of things that might be beyond my control. If I am not up to the challenge of being a good parent as my boys age, if my shortcomings drive a wedge between us that cannot be repaired, I won’t be able to handle my disappointment.

I guess I need to straighten my feeble arms and weak knees. If I listen to my internal reasoning, I will not fret about a problem I’ve not actually encountered. I will remember my firm foundation, including my support network of family and especially parents of children the same age. I will think about how many people I know who have navigated the middle, as parent and child, and come out on the other side with a stronger relationship.

But my heart speaks loudly. I am not as strong a person as I would like to be. My heart also tells me some degree of this fear is healthy, because it will compel me to work hard at this task and not just presume I will succeed because others have and will. Perhaps that’s just a copout allowing me to retain the fear when there is a better way to face the challenge.

For tonight, I need to move on. And I will do so with the last verse, which contains another excellent piece of advice I hope to apply to my own life and, by extension, impress upon my children: Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and be holy. That’s a goal worth pursuing.

A prayer for May 6:

Lord, I am scared. I am scared of the increasing challenges of parenthood, and I am worried I am not going to be good enough. I want to be the father my sons deserve, and I need you to be with me through every step. I will put my trust in you and continue to seek your guidance, to pray your will be done as it relates to our family. Help me to make level paths, to live in peace and to be holy. Amen.