The majority of popular, Facebook-shared mom-blog write-ups
I've noticed lately seem to echo the same theme. Parents are bombarded by an
over-abundance of "do this, don't do that" digital parenting gurus
(or just folks met on the street) who range from faintly smug to downright
rude. Moms, especially, become overwhelmed with guilt over which of these
opinions to subscribe to and then toil over how "well" they implement
the advice on a daily basis. We must rebel, these bloggers proclaim, and
declare the "we-know-what's-best-for-our-own-kids" mantra. Stick it
to the snarky experts and observers nosing in on our kid-raising business.
Of course there's more than an ounce of truth to their
rants. Under no circumstance should anyone offer unsolicited and random
parenting advice to anyone at the grocery store. Ever. Nor should we keep our
minds completely open to any and all creeds floating around.
But to unabashedly reject all input about how to raise our
kids is a problem. We say we know
best how to raise our own kids, but does that mean we don't look for wise
counsel? Or recognize the limitations of our own puny, human brains? The older
I get the more I see how much I don't know about things. At the same time I
also realize how much I'd like to
believe I know more than I do. I'm pretty self-deceptive.
Let's say a fellow friend sees you constantly losing
patience with your picky eater. She has an older child who walked through the
same struggle and notices that the way you respond builds up a wall of conflict
between you and your kiddo rather than your intended goal of developing a more
well-rounded eater. This friend has some insight you don't have. And you have
expressed your frustration with her. But in this don't-tell-me-how-to-run-my-family
cultural climate, she is far less likely to share her experience and
observations. It takes a big risk of her coming across as self-righteous when
she really can (and needs) to lend a helping hand. So she stays quiet and you
toil along down a bad path.
What I'm saying is, we need to be open to being reproved, even in our parenting choices, accepting
that the advice giver isn't the perfect parent. Because even though she may
done a crappy job of potty training her kids, she nailed the picky eater thing.
Our initial reaction will be to
criticize her potty training and mute her advice to us. But how can iron sharpen
iron without an open, trusting dialogue?
It's just silly how quick we are to share our struggles
while getting mad when listeners try to help. "But I just need to
vent" never helped anyone in this life. Proverbs 9 tells us that
correcting a mocker invites insult, but teaching the righteous will only add to
their learning. We are prone to self-deception and to ignore help.
Here is a list of excuses I've used in the past and more I've
heard from other folks that clue us in to resisting advice.
1. "Nobody's perfect."
This is the most obvious sentence anyone has ever said in
the history of the world. It would be more revelatory to say "I have green
eyes" than this dumb nonsense. What we mean when we say this is,
"Yeah, I hear you, but you have your own junk to work through." Blame
shifting at it's most boring,
2. "He'll outgrow it."
There is some truth to this, for sure. But it can easily be
used as a crutch for not dealing with a heart issue or addressing how well or
poorly I respond to my child.
3. "Every child is different."
Again, yes, we don't employ the same methods on every child,
but reading between the lines this means, "You have no idea who I'm
dealing with here. Your advice is bunk."
4. "You think you know better than I do what to do with
my kid?"
Moms would never actually
say this in a playgroup. But think
about the times you've observed parents and known a better way of diffusing a
tantrum. You actually do know better what to do with that kid than the parent,
in that tough moment. It's so much easier to see solutions in other people's
lives. That's why we need other wise people around.
5. "Being a parent is just one of the hardest jobs on
the planet."
I'm not quite sure what this one means, other than a pithy
non-statement designed to cut the conversation short. We can all agree
parenting is the most sanctifying (or revealing) experience we have in this
life. That statement isn't particularly helpful, though, in figuring out how to
navigate it.
This doesn't give us carte blanche to start preaching to
each other, then demanding to be heard. A word fitly spoken is delicious,
edible, devoured by a wise listener. But it's not our job to force the
listening.
Let's face it. Not everything
goes in parenting. There are many, many ways to screw up a child. To fall
short of what we are called to do as parents is a serious, heavy consequence
that we may not chalk up to random chance. While we don't have to be condemned
to guilt and punishment over our parenting through the sacrifice Jesus Christ
made, we still strive to repent and get going in the right direction. We must be sensitive to first following the
perfect Parent's wisdom on growing godly kids and then be open to counsel from
others we trust.
End of sermon.
