Sunday, February 2, 2014

Perfect Parenting

I could rest peacefully at night if I knew that I was in perfect obedience in raising my kids. 
If I knew that my discipline was not exasperating them.
If my expectations were for their own good. 
If I knew that my words were all-wise in content. 
If I knew that I was focused on heart issues and not outward appearances. 
If I knew I always parented with scripture. 
If I knew all my decisions were God-led. 
If my "yes" was always "yes" and my "no" was always "no."
If I was consistent.
If I was fair.
If I loved their father the way I should. 
If I honored my own parents the way I should. 
If I honored my in-laws the way I honor my own parents. 
If I always answered patiently. 
If I knew they saw Jesus in me every day.  
If I was always kind.
If I was never quick-tempered.
If I was never rude.  
If I held my tongue.
If I loved them more than I love myself.  
 
If I was in perfect obedience as a parent, I could rest peacefully in raising my kids.  
Even if they walked away from Him. 
Because I would know that I had done everything right.  
If only I could parent this way.  
 
But if I could parent this way, I wouldn't need a Savior.
And if I didn't need a Savior, I couldn't point my kids to their own need for a Savior.
If I could parent this way, I wouldn't need grace.    
And if I didn't need grace, my kids would never see grace in action. 
If I could parent this way, my kids would see an all-sufficient mom.
And if they saw an all-sufficient mom, my kids would never see an all-sufficient Heavenly Father.   

Perfect parenting would be all about me. 
Imperfect parenting drives me and them to Him. 
I despise the sin that creeps into so many areas of my life, especially into my parenting. 
I despise the fact that my kids--more than any other people in my life--see my sin and my flesh-responses that keep me from living a holy, righteous life.
If I'm honest, I'll admit I despise the fact that my kids know without a doubt that I'm not perfect. 
But imperfection displays our absolute dependence on our perfect Savior.
Imperfection shows them that no one on earth is worthy of all their affections. 
But I do know someone who is.  
And then I can confidently say,
"Let me introduce you to your Perfect Heavenly Father."

I can rest peacefully at night knowing that my kids have a perfect parent.   
And it's okay that it's not me.