My doctor visit went well, although I found out that my contractions (which have not really let up much since beginning on Saturday) are not strong enough to make any difference in the dilation progress. I am still 1cm dilated.
I have already asked Jeremy and despite the fact that I will complain and moan and groan and possibly even curse you for it later, I am asking that you also pray for stronger contractions that will actually do something. These naggy ones are merely preventing me from resting and being able to take care of Jeremiah and the other responsibilities I have. I figure, at this point, get Jonah here sooner rather than later.
Thanks for praying!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Getting ready
Have you ever heard of the nesting instinct? In my reading, I have been told of some rather strange impulses that pregnant women have before giving birth. One woman was completely obsessed with polishing all the doorknobs in her home. Bizarre and pointless.
My nesting instinct typically has to do with actual preparation, such as getting the nursery completed, one last housecleaning, and packing for the hospital trip. We finally completed all those tasks within the last couple of weekends. Saturday, I took the opportunity to pack for Jeremiah and myself to be gone for a few days, took a nap (because the activity wiped me out) and woke up with very strong contractions. Talk about timing.
My contractions lasted virtually all night, which didn't allow me to sleep much at all. Since they continued to be naggy, I visited the hospital after church and got checked out. The update is that my cervix is very soft and I am beginning to dilate. They are not certain when true labor will begin, but I just need to go home and deal with these pesky contractions until something stronger and more frequent occurs.
My next doctor visit is this Wednesday... we'll see if there is any progression then.
My nesting instinct typically has to do with actual preparation, such as getting the nursery completed, one last housecleaning, and packing for the hospital trip. We finally completed all those tasks within the last couple of weekends. Saturday, I took the opportunity to pack for Jeremiah and myself to be gone for a few days, took a nap (because the activity wiped me out) and woke up with very strong contractions. Talk about timing.
My contractions lasted virtually all night, which didn't allow me to sleep much at all. Since they continued to be naggy, I visited the hospital after church and got checked out. The update is that my cervix is very soft and I am beginning to dilate. They are not certain when true labor will begin, but I just need to go home and deal with these pesky contractions until something stronger and more frequent occurs.
My next doctor visit is this Wednesday... we'll see if there is any progression then.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Overature Center
Several weeks ago (yes, I know I am delinquent in posting this), we took a family outing to the Overature Center in Madison. They were having a 5-year anniversary celebration of their new building (more like raising awareness to try to pull in more people to pay it off). We decided to go because the event was free and there were some kids' activities we thought Jeremiah would enjoy.
Down in the kid's section, they had several musicians playing for kids who wanted to sing on a stage in front of the rest of us. Sort of like karoke, but with live musicians helping out where needed. Some kids' chose to sing "I like horses" for the duration of their proud moment in the spotlight, but the musicians made it hilarious to watch and helped the kids feel good about their efforts.
There was also a dress-up corner with costumes from the kid's theatre program. Where else did you think I found such a perfect hat for Jeremy?
Down in the kid's section, they had several musicians playing for kids who wanted to sing on a stage in front of the rest of us. Sort of like karoke, but with live musicians helping out where needed. Some kids' chose to sing "I like horses" for the duration of their proud moment in the spotlight, but the musicians made it hilarious to watch and helped the kids feel good about their efforts.
There was also a dress-up corner with costumes from the kid's theatre program. Where else did you think I found such a perfect hat for Jeremy?
Nicknames
Do you have strange nicknames for your children? I don't know where any of mine came from -- they all popped out all by themselves -- but Jeremiah has had quite a few. One is "Jew boy" (for obvious reasons), but rarely used. Usually it comes out when I'm trying to say something else. But ones that are commonly used in our house are "Lou" "Moo" and "Mr. Moo". Jeremy uses the familiar "Buddy".
When Jeremiah was first born, I called him "Hoover" sometimes (he sucked really hard), but it didn't stick longterm.
Now that Jonah is coming any day, I have been wondering what names will pop out of my mouth when talking to him. None of these seems calculated or makes sense in any way.
What are some names you've used for your kids?
The little boy with all the names... two years ago, that is.
When Jeremiah was first born, I called him "Hoover" sometimes (he sucked really hard), but it didn't stick longterm.
Now that Jonah is coming any day, I have been wondering what names will pop out of my mouth when talking to him. None of these seems calculated or makes sense in any way.
What are some names you've used for your kids?
The little boy with all the names... two years ago, that is.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
A Testimony
--Some of you, my readers, may think I share a little too much personal information. I do this for a reason. There may be someone out there that can benefit from what I have experienced and I wish to be a help. If my life has been an encouragement or "wise counsel" to someone, then I say "Praise God" and may my life (whether good or bad) continue to be passed around for others to learn from.--
Back in 2006, I became a member of the church Jeremy has attended since he moved here to Wisconsin. This following is my testimony that I shared with the church deacons.
In 1979, I was born to an unwed Jewish girl who gave me up for adoption. God chose to place me in a family that ended up adopting three children and brought them up in a Christian church. I learned about God and His Son, Jesus, when I was a child and even then, I desired to go to heaven. So I prayed that God would let Jesus live in my heart and help me to be good. I prayed that prayer every night.
As a child, I do not recall my parents ever talking to me about becoming a Christian or the need to be saved from sin... but somehow I still knew it was necessary. When I was almost 13, I heard a sermon about what Jesus went through before His death: the beatings and torture... and I realized that I had to personally surrender my life over to God rather than depend upon the fact that I got in less trouble than my brothers. That night, I confessed that I understood that all my sins, however minor, had caused Jesus the pain He suffered and asked Him to forgive me. However, after that night is where my story really begins.
I was trying to live my life in honor of the Lord, but my older brother was not. He got involved with some not-so-good friends at school and was upset with me for not following his example as I had always done before. My mother knew I had gotten saved and told me that because my brother and I were now on two separate paths, I should have nothing to do with him. On my mother's counsel, I did not spend time with or even speak to my brother for 11 years even though much of that time we lived in the same house.
A few years later, my brother professed faith in Christ, and still I had nothing to do with him because, according to my mother, he wasn't genuine or else he would have asked forgiveness for each specific sin he had committed against our family. Several more years after that, he moved out of my parent's home and never gave a forwarding address or phone number. We only heard about him through other people who had seen him and we continued to harshly judge him. He moved to Pennsylvania to be near the woman he ended up marrying and during that time wrote a letter of apology which he sent to each member of our family... and we judged him still more because he, again, did not name specifics and he only wrote the letter because it was a homework assignment from the pastor from whom he was receiving pre-marital counseling. According to my mother, he is still unsaved today.
From the time I repented and asked God to save me, I would periodically have severe doubts about my salvation which stemmed from observing the treatment my brother received after he got saved at 16. Any time I struggled with a particular sin, I was wracked with guilt and would secretly pray that God would save me again... and again... and again.
During my college years, my mom made constant critiques and shared doubts she had about my salvation. It wasn't until I graduated from college and was in my career job that these problems came at me full force. My parents chose who my first boyfriend would be. I was 22 and he had expressed interest to my parents and they approved... all done without my knowledge. So, out of the blue, some man with whom I was barely an acquaintance was all of a sudden my boyfriend and I had no say in the matter. This man ended up treating me badly for eight months before he, thankfully, decided I wasn't in God's will for his life.
During that relationship, I was depressed much of the time and my mother took the opportunity to take me aside and confront me on my lack of peace and trust in the Lord about it. She said this lack of faith caused her to have serious doubts about my salvation and that I should examine my heart to see if my faith was genuine. I cried and begged God to give me peace about my salvation or to save me if I was not saved. Looking back, I am amazed at how many times I prayed this desperate prayers of assurance or pleas for salvation.
After moving out of my parent's home at 22, I lived with some girls for a few months and then got an apartment by myself. That is when I started receiving letters from my mother about how she was so grieved that all three of her children were unsaved. During this time, I spent every evening with my married friend (who is a pastor's wife) and I still attended my parent's church. My mother saw me every Sunday. Her knowledge of how I lived my life did not mean anything... she was convinced about my spiritual condition and I could neither do nor say anything to change her mind. I spoke with her repeatedly explaining how I knew I was saved. "For whosoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." I even tried writing her letters, but to no avail.
After a couple of years, I caved into her words. I had received yet another letter harshly stating that I was damned to hell and that I was a foolish young woman; though she never did tell me what it was I had done wrong. I did not throw her letter away, but left it on the floor as a reminder and it plagued me. How could my own mother not see that I strive to live my life in honor and glory of the Lord? If she can't see it, I must be deceived in myself. Because parents try and want to believe the best about their children, don't they?
I opened my Bible and again fervently studied all the verses that explained the characteristics of a Christian--such as having love for God, repenting from sin, selfless love, spiritual growth and obedient living--to see how I matched up. It was so confusing because with my studies, I found no reason to say I wasn't saved... NONE. Certainly I wasn't perfect, but that wasn't a requirement. Despite the fact that the Holy Spirit and Scripture had proven I was saved, I refused to believe it because my mother didn't and wouldn't believe it.
As a result of so many destructive words, I became firmly convinced that I was not a Christian and never had been. I became depressed and hopeless about my condition. I knew what it meant to be a Christian and what people need to do in order to be saved. I remembered how I repeatedly cried out to God to forgive me and begged Him to save me.
If I knew all the answers and had done everything He required of me to be saved and He still wouldn't save me, I was lost. There was no hope. I wrote a letter of confession to my parents and to others that had been involved in my life, stating that even though I had made a profession of faith at 13 and even been baptized... it was all fake. I had deceived them all and I no longer wanted anything to do with Christianity. I announced my plan to move away so that children with whom I had an influence over in the past would not look at me and be led astray because of my bad example. I did not want them to end up like me... so I fled from everything.
The day I gave out that letter, my parents insisted I come over to their house to talk. When my mother opened the door, she gave me a hug (which rarely happened in my family) and her first words were, "I've known for a long time. I'm so glad God finally showed you the truth." That afternoon was spent with my parents calmly telling me all the consequences I would face as a pagan who lived an openly sinful life and proceeded to witness to me and tell me how to be saved. That day was the first time I ever remember hearing the words I had been longing to hear my whole life... "We are so proud of you..." Granted, with all these confusing words, this was the first time I could relax in front of my parents and not worry that every action or word was judged because they weren't about to make the mistake of expecting a pagan to act like a Christian.
So for the next several months and following, I completely gave up on God and lived my life as a pagan, not caring about consequences or how it would affect my life later on. As far as I was concerned, my life was over anyway and I wondered why I even bothered prolonging it. It would have been better to die because there was no way I could be saved with the knowledge I already had, since God had rejected me. At some point during these months, I called my brother and asked him why he left our family and never contacted us. He proceeded to tell me a very similar story to my own. We are now reconciled and are back in communication.
After moving to Kansas City, MO... I found a church where the people showed me what unconditional love was for the first time. They accepted me just as I was and recognized me for the crushed person I had become as a result of all these events. After talking with the pastor, he helped me realize that God hadn't abandoned me at all... and He most certainly hadn't rejected me. God has forgiven me of everything I did while I lived apart from Him. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." These life events I have shared with you are the reason I can sit solidly on my faith without wavering in doubt from anything... despite what anyone thinks of me.
Back in 2006, I became a member of the church Jeremy has attended since he moved here to Wisconsin. This following is my testimony that I shared with the church deacons.
In 1979, I was born to an unwed Jewish girl who gave me up for adoption. God chose to place me in a family that ended up adopting three children and brought them up in a Christian church. I learned about God and His Son, Jesus, when I was a child and even then, I desired to go to heaven. So I prayed that God would let Jesus live in my heart and help me to be good. I prayed that prayer every night.
As a child, I do not recall my parents ever talking to me about becoming a Christian or the need to be saved from sin... but somehow I still knew it was necessary. When I was almost 13, I heard a sermon about what Jesus went through before His death: the beatings and torture... and I realized that I had to personally surrender my life over to God rather than depend upon the fact that I got in less trouble than my brothers. That night, I confessed that I understood that all my sins, however minor, had caused Jesus the pain He suffered and asked Him to forgive me. However, after that night is where my story really begins.
I was trying to live my life in honor of the Lord, but my older brother was not. He got involved with some not-so-good friends at school and was upset with me for not following his example as I had always done before. My mother knew I had gotten saved and told me that because my brother and I were now on two separate paths, I should have nothing to do with him. On my mother's counsel, I did not spend time with or even speak to my brother for 11 years even though much of that time we lived in the same house.
A few years later, my brother professed faith in Christ, and still I had nothing to do with him because, according to my mother, he wasn't genuine or else he would have asked forgiveness for each specific sin he had committed against our family. Several more years after that, he moved out of my parent's home and never gave a forwarding address or phone number. We only heard about him through other people who had seen him and we continued to harshly judge him. He moved to Pennsylvania to be near the woman he ended up marrying and during that time wrote a letter of apology which he sent to each member of our family... and we judged him still more because he, again, did not name specifics and he only wrote the letter because it was a homework assignment from the pastor from whom he was receiving pre-marital counseling. According to my mother, he is still unsaved today.
From the time I repented and asked God to save me, I would periodically have severe doubts about my salvation which stemmed from observing the treatment my brother received after he got saved at 16. Any time I struggled with a particular sin, I was wracked with guilt and would secretly pray that God would save me again... and again... and again.
During my college years, my mom made constant critiques and shared doubts she had about my salvation. It wasn't until I graduated from college and was in my career job that these problems came at me full force. My parents chose who my first boyfriend would be. I was 22 and he had expressed interest to my parents and they approved... all done without my knowledge. So, out of the blue, some man with whom I was barely an acquaintance was all of a sudden my boyfriend and I had no say in the matter. This man ended up treating me badly for eight months before he, thankfully, decided I wasn't in God's will for his life.
During that relationship, I was depressed much of the time and my mother took the opportunity to take me aside and confront me on my lack of peace and trust in the Lord about it. She said this lack of faith caused her to have serious doubts about my salvation and that I should examine my heart to see if my faith was genuine. I cried and begged God to give me peace about my salvation or to save me if I was not saved. Looking back, I am amazed at how many times I prayed this desperate prayers of assurance or pleas for salvation.
After moving out of my parent's home at 22, I lived with some girls for a few months and then got an apartment by myself. That is when I started receiving letters from my mother about how she was so grieved that all three of her children were unsaved. During this time, I spent every evening with my married friend (who is a pastor's wife) and I still attended my parent's church. My mother saw me every Sunday. Her knowledge of how I lived my life did not mean anything... she was convinced about my spiritual condition and I could neither do nor say anything to change her mind. I spoke with her repeatedly explaining how I knew I was saved. "For whosoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." I even tried writing her letters, but to no avail.
After a couple of years, I caved into her words. I had received yet another letter harshly stating that I was damned to hell and that I was a foolish young woman; though she never did tell me what it was I had done wrong. I did not throw her letter away, but left it on the floor as a reminder and it plagued me. How could my own mother not see that I strive to live my life in honor and glory of the Lord? If she can't see it, I must be deceived in myself. Because parents try and want to believe the best about their children, don't they?
I opened my Bible and again fervently studied all the verses that explained the characteristics of a Christian--such as having love for God, repenting from sin, selfless love, spiritual growth and obedient living--to see how I matched up. It was so confusing because with my studies, I found no reason to say I wasn't saved... NONE. Certainly I wasn't perfect, but that wasn't a requirement. Despite the fact that the Holy Spirit and Scripture had proven I was saved, I refused to believe it because my mother didn't and wouldn't believe it.
As a result of so many destructive words, I became firmly convinced that I was not a Christian and never had been. I became depressed and hopeless about my condition. I knew what it meant to be a Christian and what people need to do in order to be saved. I remembered how I repeatedly cried out to God to forgive me and begged Him to save me.
If I knew all the answers and had done everything He required of me to be saved and He still wouldn't save me, I was lost. There was no hope. I wrote a letter of confession to my parents and to others that had been involved in my life, stating that even though I had made a profession of faith at 13 and even been baptized... it was all fake. I had deceived them all and I no longer wanted anything to do with Christianity. I announced my plan to move away so that children with whom I had an influence over in the past would not look at me and be led astray because of my bad example. I did not want them to end up like me... so I fled from everything.
The day I gave out that letter, my parents insisted I come over to their house to talk. When my mother opened the door, she gave me a hug (which rarely happened in my family) and her first words were, "I've known for a long time. I'm so glad God finally showed you the truth." That afternoon was spent with my parents calmly telling me all the consequences I would face as a pagan who lived an openly sinful life and proceeded to witness to me and tell me how to be saved. That day was the first time I ever remember hearing the words I had been longing to hear my whole life... "We are so proud of you..." Granted, with all these confusing words, this was the first time I could relax in front of my parents and not worry that every action or word was judged because they weren't about to make the mistake of expecting a pagan to act like a Christian.
So for the next several months and following, I completely gave up on God and lived my life as a pagan, not caring about consequences or how it would affect my life later on. As far as I was concerned, my life was over anyway and I wondered why I even bothered prolonging it. It would have been better to die because there was no way I could be saved with the knowledge I already had, since God had rejected me. At some point during these months, I called my brother and asked him why he left our family and never contacted us. He proceeded to tell me a very similar story to my own. We are now reconciled and are back in communication.
After moving to Kansas City, MO... I found a church where the people showed me what unconditional love was for the first time. They accepted me just as I was and recognized me for the crushed person I had become as a result of all these events. After talking with the pastor, he helped me realize that God hadn't abandoned me at all... and He most certainly hadn't rejected me. God has forgiven me of everything I did while I lived apart from Him. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." These life events I have shared with you are the reason I can sit solidly on my faith without wavering in doubt from anything... despite what anyone thinks of me.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Chapter 10 - Mom and Sisters
This chapter really opened my eyes to the importance of how a mother relates to her sons. In case you haven't noticed, boys and girls are different. A mother needs to have a close association with her husband while raising boys. My husband is responsible to help me understand my sons... and it is also his responsibility to teach my sons about their future wives through teaching them to honor me, their mother, now.
There are certain principles that a mother needs to know about her sons.
First, a mother needs to blend respect and toughness. Mothers with a critical or harsh spirit can certainly be hard on their sons, but it is a demeaning and emasculating hardness. And at the other end of the spectrum, mothers can be respectful of their sons in such a way that they never require anything of them. This kind of respect deterioriates into a mollycoddling mess. But a mother who approaches her son with wisdom is one who respects and consequently expects. When a wise mother sees insecurity in her son, the response should not be scorn, it should not be sympathy. The right response is respect. Boys can rise to respect, when they might crater under harsh pressure or puff up in response to excessive praise.
Second, a mother needs to see small boys as future men. The way boys learn to deal with their various immature "passions" will generally be the way they deal with adult passions. A boy who is not obviously learning self-control with regard to temper, his stomach, his video games, or his school work is a boy who will still lack self-control when sexual temptation arrives. Many times mothers unwittingly train boys to mistreat their future wives through sinful indulgence of boyish passions. It is important to distinguish between the godly service a mother is supposed to supply the household (like cooking the meals) and an ungodly catering that will help destroy her son (like cooking a second breakfast when her son gets up hours after everyone else, and for no good reason).
Third, a mother needs to learn that when a godly father is disciplining a boy, he is doing so while remembering. He used to think the way his son thinks; he used to receive what his son is now receiving; he used to connive the way his son is conniving. A mother can and should discipline her son, but she cannot do it while remembering. She therefore needs her husband's perspective in order to aim the way she ought. For her to have his perspective, he must talk about it with her, an dnot just assume that everyone in the world has the same memories and experiences he has.
Fourth, a mother needs to realize that when she gets exasperated or annoyed with her sons, she is helping them learn how to control or manipulate her. It usually goes like this: A son doesn't do what he was asked to do seven or eight times. Mom finally gets steamed and flares up over it. Mom has more of a tender conscience about her annoyance than the son does about his disobedience. She consequently apologizes and he magnanimously forgives her. The solution is for Mom to cheerfully require obedience from her sons long before annoyance is even a possibility.
And fifth, a mother needs to know that God has given her to her sons, and her sons to her, and that when the gift is received with wisdom, the blessings are tremendous and flow in both directions. But if the relation is foolishly embraced, the book of Proverbs poignantly prophecies a coming maternal grief.
Transitioning to another important aspect of raising boys is understanding that there is a type of toughness in discipline which must be built. Discipline is not limited to responses to disobedience and sin; discipline also includes patient instruction when a child encounters some of life's ordinary difficulties.
Instilling toughness in boys is very important. A masculine toughness is the only foundation upon which a masculine tenderness may be safely placed. Without a concrete foundation, thoughtfulness, consideration, and sensitivity in men is just simply gross. So mothers must take particular care against allowing some of their feminine strengths to be the occasion of stumbling for their sons.
First, a mother should talk regularly with her husband about her sons and her relationship to them. Any number of things may be happening which she does not see and concerning which her husband's advice would be invaluable.
Second, a mother must have the respect and obedience of her sons. The older and bigger they get, the more obedient they should be. A son who is a foot and a half taller than his mother should hear her with respect. Of course she should be careful not to issue needless requirements, but when she requires something, it must be cheerfully done. If it is not, then she should immediately involve her husband. The central issue is not the thing to be done, but rather teaching the son to honor his mother and to respect women generally.
Third, a mother must never subsidize her sons' laziness. Masculine inertia is difficult for anyone to deal with, and the aversion which many boys have to academic rigor is renowned. But educational laziness is the mother of poverty and sloth. The word that should characterize the academic activity of the home is industry. Boys can usually work much harder than they say they can. In all this, under the father's supervision, the mother can equip her sons to rise up and call her blessed.
Another aspect of this is the task of teaching sons how to treat their mothers, and this means instruction in manners. Boys have a need to be respected, but sometimes this need can be communicated in some strange ways. And because boys can gravitate toward such strange forms of communicating their boyhood, they may come to think that manners are for sissies. A well-mannered boy is not a boy who acts like his sister.
Manners for boys should be a means of disciplining and directing strength, and not a means of denying it. This means that boys need to be taught that manners are a means of showing and receiving honor. Honor is a concept which boys instinctively understand and love, but they still have to be taught to direct it with wisdom. Honor, in its turn, cannot be understood apart from authority and obedience.
Boys thrive under authority and are not threatened by it. At the same time, the authority must be of the kind which understands masculinity and nurtures it by hammering it. One of the "hammers" should be a short course in manners.
Boys should not be allowed to think that manners are something which women impose on men. Rather, they should see manners as something which men teach boys to do, for the sake of honoring and protecting women, and for the sake of living graciously with them.
A priority should be placed on those manners and customs which place a distinction between men and women. For instance, men seat women at the dinner table, open and hold doors, stand when a woman enters the room, walk on the sidewalk between a woman and the traffic, etc.
The next class of manners would focus on disciplining a young man to think of the comfort and possessions of others - not tipping back in chairs, not putting feet on the coffee table, and not bouncing the basketball next to the china cabinet.
A third category would be in the realm of personal presentation: not dressing like a slob, not scarfing food, not wearing a baseball cap indoors, etc. In this section, a boy is being taught to present himself as trustworthy in all the categories.
All these manners are a way of showing honor to others in areas which are not of cosmic importance. At the same time, because they are acts of love, even though they are live in trifles, God considers them important.
<"Future Men" by Douglas Wilson>
There are certain principles that a mother needs to know about her sons.
First, a mother needs to blend respect and toughness. Mothers with a critical or harsh spirit can certainly be hard on their sons, but it is a demeaning and emasculating hardness. And at the other end of the spectrum, mothers can be respectful of their sons in such a way that they never require anything of them. This kind of respect deterioriates into a mollycoddling mess. But a mother who approaches her son with wisdom is one who respects and consequently expects. When a wise mother sees insecurity in her son, the response should not be scorn, it should not be sympathy. The right response is respect. Boys can rise to respect, when they might crater under harsh pressure or puff up in response to excessive praise.
Second, a mother needs to see small boys as future men. The way boys learn to deal with their various immature "passions" will generally be the way they deal with adult passions. A boy who is not obviously learning self-control with regard to temper, his stomach, his video games, or his school work is a boy who will still lack self-control when sexual temptation arrives. Many times mothers unwittingly train boys to mistreat their future wives through sinful indulgence of boyish passions. It is important to distinguish between the godly service a mother is supposed to supply the household (like cooking the meals) and an ungodly catering that will help destroy her son (like cooking a second breakfast when her son gets up hours after everyone else, and for no good reason).
Third, a mother needs to learn that when a godly father is disciplining a boy, he is doing so while remembering. He used to think the way his son thinks; he used to receive what his son is now receiving; he used to connive the way his son is conniving. A mother can and should discipline her son, but she cannot do it while remembering. She therefore needs her husband's perspective in order to aim the way she ought. For her to have his perspective, he must talk about it with her, an dnot just assume that everyone in the world has the same memories and experiences he has.
Fourth, a mother needs to realize that when she gets exasperated or annoyed with her sons, she is helping them learn how to control or manipulate her. It usually goes like this: A son doesn't do what he was asked to do seven or eight times. Mom finally gets steamed and flares up over it. Mom has more of a tender conscience about her annoyance than the son does about his disobedience. She consequently apologizes and he magnanimously forgives her. The solution is for Mom to cheerfully require obedience from her sons long before annoyance is even a possibility.
And fifth, a mother needs to know that God has given her to her sons, and her sons to her, and that when the gift is received with wisdom, the blessings are tremendous and flow in both directions. But if the relation is foolishly embraced, the book of Proverbs poignantly prophecies a coming maternal grief.
Transitioning to another important aspect of raising boys is understanding that there is a type of toughness in discipline which must be built. Discipline is not limited to responses to disobedience and sin; discipline also includes patient instruction when a child encounters some of life's ordinary difficulties.
Instilling toughness in boys is very important. A masculine toughness is the only foundation upon which a masculine tenderness may be safely placed. Without a concrete foundation, thoughtfulness, consideration, and sensitivity in men is just simply gross. So mothers must take particular care against allowing some of their feminine strengths to be the occasion of stumbling for their sons.
First, a mother should talk regularly with her husband about her sons and her relationship to them. Any number of things may be happening which she does not see and concerning which her husband's advice would be invaluable.
Second, a mother must have the respect and obedience of her sons. The older and bigger they get, the more obedient they should be. A son who is a foot and a half taller than his mother should hear her with respect. Of course she should be careful not to issue needless requirements, but when she requires something, it must be cheerfully done. If it is not, then she should immediately involve her husband. The central issue is not the thing to be done, but rather teaching the son to honor his mother and to respect women generally.
Third, a mother must never subsidize her sons' laziness. Masculine inertia is difficult for anyone to deal with, and the aversion which many boys have to academic rigor is renowned. But educational laziness is the mother of poverty and sloth. The word that should characterize the academic activity of the home is industry. Boys can usually work much harder than they say they can. In all this, under the father's supervision, the mother can equip her sons to rise up and call her blessed.
Another aspect of this is the task of teaching sons how to treat their mothers, and this means instruction in manners. Boys have a need to be respected, but sometimes this need can be communicated in some strange ways. And because boys can gravitate toward such strange forms of communicating their boyhood, they may come to think that manners are for sissies. A well-mannered boy is not a boy who acts like his sister.
Manners for boys should be a means of disciplining and directing strength, and not a means of denying it. This means that boys need to be taught that manners are a means of showing and receiving honor. Honor is a concept which boys instinctively understand and love, but they still have to be taught to direct it with wisdom. Honor, in its turn, cannot be understood apart from authority and obedience.
Boys thrive under authority and are not threatened by it. At the same time, the authority must be of the kind which understands masculinity and nurtures it by hammering it. One of the "hammers" should be a short course in manners.
Boys should not be allowed to think that manners are something which women impose on men. Rather, they should see manners as something which men teach boys to do, for the sake of honoring and protecting women, and for the sake of living graciously with them.
A priority should be placed on those manners and customs which place a distinction between men and women. For instance, men seat women at the dinner table, open and hold doors, stand when a woman enters the room, walk on the sidewalk between a woman and the traffic, etc.
The next class of manners would focus on disciplining a young man to think of the comfort and possessions of others - not tipping back in chairs, not putting feet on the coffee table, and not bouncing the basketball next to the china cabinet.
A third category would be in the realm of personal presentation: not dressing like a slob, not scarfing food, not wearing a baseball cap indoors, etc. In this section, a boy is being taught to present himself as trustworthy in all the categories.
All these manners are a way of showing honor to others in areas which are not of cosmic importance. At the same time, because they are acts of love, even though they are live in trifles, God considers them important.
<"Future Men" by Douglas Wilson>
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