iParent

Hannah: Releasing the Child God Gives

by Wayne Stiles

The fifteen-mile journey from Ramah to Shiloh took merely a day to travel. But for Hannah, it must have felt like weeks.

Her husband’s other wife jabbered incessantly to her sons and daughters, always loud enough for Hannah to hear. The snobbery added weight to Hannah’s silent burden. Her empty arms ached for a son. And because the other wife had children, Hannah’s problem was obvious to all: God had closed her womb.

She looked at the road beneath her sandals. Centuries earlier, this well-worn path had known the likes of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—all who had barren wives as well. The thought of their miraculous conceptions may have roused hope in Hannah’s heart. Shiloh was just ahead where she would worship. Hannah determined to ask God for a son.

She made her way to the tabernacle where behind several curtains glowed the holy presence of God. Approaching the doorway, she fashioned the words in her mind. As tears warmed her face, she made her request (1 Samuel 1:11).

After Hannah and her husband returned to Ramah, God gave her a son—Samuel. Once he was weaned at three years old, Hannah journeyed again to Shiloh . . . to give Samuel back to God. Placing her boy in the care of the priest Eli, Hannah returned home again with empty arms.

Even though Hannah would see Samuel each year at the feasts, it would have been heartrending to leave the son she had cared for every day for three years. And yet, she knew from the beginning the day would come. Samuel was not hers to keep. In reality, no child is.

Hannah’s release of Samuel reveals the attitude all godly parents should adopt. God gives us children so that we may give them back to Him. Sons and daughters are like arrows to be aimed . . . and then released (Psalm 127:3–5).

In surrendering a child to God’s purposes, the humble parent bows not in an admission of defeat but, like Hannah, in an act of worship.

Taken from Wayne Stiles, “Hannah: Releasing the Child God Gave,” The Wise and the Wild: 30 Devotions on Women of the Bible (IFL Publishing House: Plano, TX, 2010), 39-40.

Morality Is Still Not the Point

by David Carl

The best questions to ask often have surprising answers. This is especially true in the Christian life. Much of Christianity is counterintuitive, even upside down from “common sense.” For instance, God’s Word states that it is better for one “to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). This idea is not one that any of us would have come up with on our own. To be first in the kingdom of God, one must become last and a servant of all (Mark 9:35). Now that seems just . . . well . . . wrong. The truth is that it is deep truth from the source of truth: the Word of God. This is the kind of thing that will begin to transform us if we believe it, act on it, and hang on for the ride. So here comes another confusing truth.

In my previous post, I asked you to think of ways to love God better. I promised I’d give you what I came up with—here it is. The best way to learn to love God more is to not try to love God more. It’s one of those upside down things. If you just were to bear down and tell yourself to love God more, maybe read the Bible more and attend yet another small group, you would end up knowing more about the Bible and maybe gain ground on some other issues, but the “loving God more” thing would still feel elusive and frustrating. Why? Because you can’t transform your own heart. It’s like trying to lift yourself up by your own bootstraps. To compound the problem, when you try to change your own heart, any progress you think you’ve made will create a subtle pride, which will actually moves you away from loving God more. I know . . . it’ll make you nuts just thinking about it!

So how then do we come to love God more? I would propose that we do a few things, all at the same time. Let’s admit our inability to change our own hearts, and then let’s call out to God in weakness and pray that He will give us the love we need. The work of the Holy Spirit transforms us; therefore, we must surrender to God for transformation. It is His work not ours.

Next (but at the same time), I suggest you embark on a journey of exploration and discovery. You are not Magellan looking for new continents; you are an awe-struck lover seeking all the ways God loves you. As you move through your life, hunt for amazing sunsets and allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the extravagance of God’s artistry. A beautiful sunset is an unnecessary display. God could make the sun set without beauty—simply letting the sky go dark—but that’s not what He does. He makes sunsets breathtaking and short-lived. We should look at such a thing and recognize it as a gift from a loving Father to His children. Embrace it. Be humbled by the enormity of the gift.

The more we allow our hearts to be loved by God, the more our hearts will be transformed and our love for Him will surge. It’s the nature of a loving relationship. Love begets love, and love begins with God. Our love grows and becomes more Christlike only by our surrender to His love. The twilight sky is a great place to start observing His love, but don’t stop with sunsets. What about gazing at the wonder of a baby, the gift of good friends, or the beauty of good music? I believe that real beauty, untainted by the sin, comes directly from God. Beauty is given to draw us to Him, to remind us of Him, and to lead us into amazement of Him. Recognizing natural beauty is a natural way to love God more.

The answer to the second question—“How do we get our kids to love God more?”—is the same as the answer as above. We as parents need to be on this journey of discovering God’s love through the beauty of His creation, and we need to take our kids by the hands as we go. Point out the sunsets, the snowcapped mountains, the sound of the waves, and the nests full of sparrow chicks. Don’t allow these things to just be interesting; make them reasons to worship God. Be certain that your kids think about them as gifts from an extravagant, loving Father.

The natural but miraculous result will be hearts that love God more.

(See also Morality is Not the Point, Part 1 and Part 2.)

Morality is Not the Point, Part 2

By David Carl

Morality is not the point. (I told you this in Part 1.)

When it becomes the point you will become corrupt. You will have lost sight of the main goal—loving God. This concept is very important when you are guiding a child or young believer in Christ. The Pharisees were moral, the most moral people around, and Jesus reserved His most scathing and condemning words for them (Matthew 23:27). Morality will not save you from hell; it will not even make you a better person. However, it will make life miserable for those around you. And eventually you will run aground. You won’t be able to keep it up; you won’t be able to keep mustering your will to step up and rescue you. Morality is not the point; it is merely a means to a much greater end.

When I was a kid I was taught by my Sunday school teachers and youth leaders that if I behaved well, if I was a moral person, good things would come my way. This is a bad bit of theology for a number of reasons. To tell this to kids may help the leaders to control them, but it is selfish of the leaders and harmful to the kids. It sets the stage for a theological crisis. One day this well-behaving kid will have the world crash around his ankles, and he’ll try to make sense of it. His thoughts will grope around for conclusions and probably come up with something like this: “I believed that if I was good, good things would happen to me. But because bad things are happening to me, I must conclude that I’m bad and that I deserve what is happening.” Or he might think, “I have been a pretty good kid, and this is not fair. I’ve held up my part of the bargain and God hasn’t. God is neither good nor loving after all.” I often worry about these silent, internal conversations because kids are using bad or incomplete information that leads to conclusions that will send them way off-course, far more than just three degrees.

I want my kids to behave well, and I want your kids to behave well. But I don’t want to create a theological crisis for them in the process. Luke 10:27 says “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” There is the polar north of every disciple of Christ. Not self-sacrifice, not giving, not biblical knowledge, and not good behavior. Though these things are necessary, even indispensable tools on your journey toward becoming Christlike, they must not be allowed to become the goal.

For years I’ve thought about the legalist as being on one end of the spectrum and the grace-filled person being on the opposite end. These days I think they are only three degrees apart. Many of the behaviors of these two people are the same. They both spend time reading the Bible, they both speak to God, and they both try to do the right things. The legalist does much of this out of guilt or in an effort to earn God’s approval. The legalist is driven by the strength of his own will. And though he fails routinely, he hopes that he will be able to muster up the discipline to do better. He also holds an ever-increasing disdain for those who do not work as hard as he does. Can you see the pattern? It is all about him! His thoughts are on himself; he is consumed by how he is doing. This is precisely the kind of self-absorption Christ came to save us from. The grace-filled person on the other hand is striving to not be self-absorbed; he wants to be lost in love for Jesus. He is doing many of the same things as the legalist, but his focus is on Jesus. With only three degrees of difference at the beginning, these two people will end up in different hemispheres.

If we teach our kids only morality, the undertow of legalism will be almost irresistible. I propose that we as parents, teachers, and children’s workers check our bearings and work to lead our kids to love God first. Not an icky, silly love, but an informed, well-thought-out, and defensible love for God. Considering the character of God, a response of love is the only reasonable one. This is a difficult course to maintain. Along the way you will be a legalist sometimes, but just check your bearings and correct your course. I was probably a legalist twice last week, and I bet I will be again next week, so I need to check my bearings regularly.

So how do I do this? How can I be sure that Jesus is my polar north? Introspection is a helpful but underused tool. Ask yourself some tough questions like, “Am I really seeking to know and love God, or am I just reading my Bible so that God will bless me?” Try this one: “Do I treat the lost sinner badly because he offends my morality, or am I filled with compassion for him like Jesus was?” Or “If I hate things that Jesus did not hate, am I willing to change?”

I hope that you agree that loving God is the point—the only course worth following. If you do, you should then be asking something along the lines of, “Okay, so how do I do this? How do I love God more?” Even harder than that, “How do I help my kids to love God more?” These are exactly the questions to ask. Work on some answers yourself. Ask wise people around you. Be stubborn and intractable until you have a biblical plan that will lead you toward loving God more and guiding others to do the same.

Next time I’ll tell you what I’ve come up with.

Morality is Not the Point, Part 1

By David Carl

Morality is not the point.

Now stay with me. I bet you’ll agree when I’m finished. For a while now I’ve been asking the elementary-age kids I know, “What do you think God wants most from us?” Most of the time the answers are something like, “God wants us to be good” or “God wants us to pray a lot.” I was even pleased to get a “God wants us to help people.” These were the kind of answers I expected—but they are wrong. They are off by perhaps three degrees.  If you start on a journey and you are three degrees off of your bearing, you will in a short time be half a mile off-course. In a few days you will be hundreds of miles off-course, and soon you’ll be in the wrong hemisphere. You will have completely missed your destination. That is why sailors have checked their compasses obsessively for thousands of years.

When I ask “What does God want most from us?” the words I hope to hear are “He wants us to love Him.” That’s the point. That’s what matters most. And in the pursuit of loving God we need to toss overboard whatever may distract us or cause us to drift off-course. The distractions are legion.

Christianity is complex; sin is easy. Those of us who have lived some years as followers of Christ are probably not going to stumble into a life of violent crime. We are probably not going to wake up one day and choose to wholly reject God and become angry atheists. However, we do need to be afraid of drift and distraction. As sinful humans, we will drift away from God, and we will be distracted—it’s unavoidable. Consequently, we need to discover these distractions early and get them corrected quickly. It's also important to note that these distractions come not only in the form of sinful temptations—they can come in any form. They can even look like good things. King Saul was distracted by his desire to be a good king, and the Pharisees were distracted by their devotion to Scripture, of all things. Abraham was distracted by his love for his son Isaac; it caused him to drift away from God. For those of us working to serve and teach kids through ministry, we need to be especially vigilant and stay on our course.

A wise man once observed that for ministers the one thing that hinders spiritual growth most is ministry. The very act of ministry can be a distraction from our relationship with God. Many enter into ministry with visions of making a difference in lives, of leading people toward growth and maturity. That’s the wrong motive. You’ve begun to drift by perhaps three degrees.

The right motive for ministry comes from loving God so much that you want to spill it over on others. If you go into ministry solely to serve either kids or adults, you are already distracted and drifting off-course. You will run aground. How? Kids certainly won’t appreciate your sacrifices; and adults won’t understand what you’re trying to do. They will even fight you and impede the very thing they hired you to come and accomplish! This scenario happens so often it has a name—burnout.

To avoid this kind of disaster in ministry, in work, or in parenting, we need to honestly and humbly check our bearings and adjust our course constantly toward loving God.

(More to come in Part 2)

Apart from Jesus . . . Nothing

by Wayne Stiles

On one trip to Israel, I went without my family for over three weeks—the longest time I’ve ever spent away from them. And while I spoke with them regularly the whole time I traveled, the last conversation is the one I’ll never forget.

After weeks of separation, we all felt eager to see one another again. I can still hear my younger daughter’s words from the other side of the world: “It’s like I don’t even know you, Daddy.”

Open heart, insert battle-axe.

A mere three weeks apart made our relationship seem surreal. I’ve thought about her comment often as I considered Christ’s words to His headstrong disciples that night.

“Apart from Me you can do nothing,” said the Savior in the Upper Room (John 15:5). Nothing. That word seems so conclusive, so dreadfully final. Our success hinges on our remaining in fellowship with Jesus. And our fellowship with Jesus pivots on honest confession (1 John 1:9).

Most of us Christians have experienced those incredible moments of intimacy with God when we have no yearning for any earthly joy, much less for sin. Christ becomes our entire desire. In those moments, we make impassioned commitments of absolute dedication. We really believe we have turned a corner in our spiritual lives.

But then, driving away from church, our family disagrees over where to eat. Or after our quiet time, our bickering children rapidly rob us of joy. Or on the way to work, a hurried driver cuts us off and waves with only a fraction of his hand. All of a sudden, commitment wanes. And these are the little things. What about real life crises?

Nothing. That word has such a haunting finality, doesn’t it? If we fail to remain in fellowship with Jesus, we can do nothing—not “some things,” not “a few things”—but no thing. Nothing of any lasting spiritual value whatsoever.

But with Jesus, on the other hand, nothing is impossible that is His will (see Matt. 19:26).

Post adapted from www.waynestiles.com and from Wayne Stiles, Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus: A Devotional Journey Through the Lands and Lessons of Christ (Ventura, CA: Regal, 2008), p. 141-142. Used by permission. Upper Room photo courtesy of BiblePlaces.com.

A Good Word for Marriage

by Wayne Stiles

God began the human race with marriage. His first command, “Be fruitful and multiply” (Gen. 1:28), required the physical union the Song of Songs extols. But God clearly intended sexuality as more than a means of multiplication. He created it to crown a marriage of affirmation with pleasure.

In the Song of Songs, inspired discretion veils the couple’s erotic descriptions behind the language of metaphor. Just as Wyoming’s Grand Tetons veils its referent behind its French name, so Solomon refers to twin “mountains of spices” to describe the pleasantness of her anatomy (Song of Songs 8:14; cf. 1:13; 4:5-6). Indeed, one such reference reveals her desire for him to be like a deer “on the mountains of Bether,” literally, “mountains of separation” or “cleavage” (Song of Songs 2:17). Because Israel had no mountains called Bether, the bride’s implications are obvious.

Although the bride initially felt insecure about her looks, after Solomon’s kind words, she compared herself to a rose in the Sharon Plain (see Song of Songs 2:1). She likened him to blossoms in Engedi, an oasis beside the Dead Sea’s brackish shores (see Song of Songs 1:14). Likewise, he compared her head to Mount Carmel, a symbol of great elevation in Israel (see Song of Songs 7:5).

So many marriages today ignore the value of loving affirmation and turn instead to a critical tongue or a pointing finger. But the couple in the Song of Songs never does this. Instead, they repeatedly affirm one another in spite of their imperfections. They model the importance of frequent and sincere affirmation in marriage as well as physical union. In fact, an encouraging, godly attitude becomes the most attractive part of a person—even when physical beauty fades.

For all that needs to change in your marriage, consider starting with yourself (the only individual you can change). Apply the wisdom of Solomon and offer affirmation to your spouse—and prayers of blessing—instead of gripes, groans and eyes that roll.

Give your heart to this task today, just as you vowed to do years ago.

Post courtesy of www.waynestiles.com. Adapted from Wayne Stiles, Going Places with God: A Devotional Journey Through the Lands and Lessons of Christ (Ventura, CA: Regal, 2006), p. 144. Used by permission.

Fishing Lessons

By Wayne Stiles

Our family went fishing over the Thanksgiving weekend at a nearby lake.

Cold and blustery. Hardly anyone else at the lake. Rough water. Five dollars for worms. Hooks snag in the underwater weeds. Fish won’t bite. Worm guts under the fingernails. A hook pierces my thumb.

One of my daughters summed up our experience this way: “Daddy, a stocked pond might be more fun.”

We fished with worms, hooks, and bobs while a nearby man cast a lure with his rod. He caught a bass as I was leaving! Go figure. His success got me to thinking.

I looked up the term “lure” in the Oxford American Dictionary and found the word “tempt” occurring in the definitions. The probable origin of the word “lure” stemmed from the German term, Luder, meaning, “bait.” Hmmm . . .

The next morning I asked the family, “What does fishing teach us about Jesus’ statement: ‘I will make you fishers of men?’” Various answers shot back:

“It’s hard work. It takes patience.”
“Sometimes fish won’t bite.”
“A lot of casting; not a lot of catches.”
“Different bait works for different fish.”
“It’s great when you catch one!”

Then we discussed another question: “What does fishing teach us about how Satan tempts us?”

“Different bait works for different fish.”
“The bait hides the hook.”
“Quick satisfaction with long-term regret.”
“Satan is patient.”

The lessons we caught from fishing were keepers. A lure from Satan’s perspective tempts us to destruction. But a lure from God’s perspective—that’s our lives and our words—leads us and others to salvation. Can you think of some other lessons?

Not bad for five bucks and some worm guts.

Post courtesy of www.waynestiles.com. Used by permission.

In Their Eyes

by John Adair

  The mysteries of this world never cease.

My 2-year-old son has a strange habit. When he wakes up in the morning or from his nap, he makes his way from his bed directly to his closed bedroom door, lies down flat on his stomach, and gazes through the crack beneath it. Then he waits. He has a room full of toys that I imagine would better attract his attention, yet he waits. He has a pile of blocks to build towers that he can “go Godzilla” on, yet he waits. He waits for someone—anyone—to walk by, in the hopes he might be able to rope him or her in to his escape plan.

Here’s the thing, though: he can open doors! He opens the office door when I’m working. He opens the front door when we’re not looking. He opens the pantry door and plays with the trash can. But he will not open that bedroom door. He won’t even try.

When I think about this habit, a couple of things come to mind. First, while lying there, he wants nothing more than to be on the other side of that door. He wants very much to be in his mother’s and my world. He wants to see what we are doing and participate in it with us. He wants to spend time with us.

Second, his vision is limited because of the small space between the door and the carpet. He can’t see beyond what the small space allows. He certainly can’t see what’s going on in the living room around the corner. And most importantly, because he is so focused on seeing through the crack, he doesn’t realize that he can simply open the door to go where he wants to be.

As a parent, I find my son’s behavior mystifying but also instructive. Whenever I see him through the crack beneath the door, I think about how much I’d like to be in his world. I want to know his mind more fully so that I can better train and guide him toward Christlikeness. Jesus told us that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:37-39). When it comes to our kids, the ability to fulfill this second commandment—an ability that ultimately is given by the Holy Spirit—involves knowing them well (seeing the world through their eyes). We need this so that we can serve them in a way that will be of most help to their spiritual growth.

In the attempt to see through his eyes, I also recognize my own limited vision of him. In effect, I, too, am looking through the crack under the door. No parent has been blessed with a God’s-eye view of the world. Therefore, our responses to our kids should always reflect a certain measure of humility. Remembering that we, too, are sinners who struggle to stay on the right path should temper our response to our kids. It should ensure that our interaction with them is seasoned with grace and mercy while avoiding the awful trap of hypocrisy. Ephesians 6:4 teaches us that we are not to provoke our children to anger. This occurs when we come off as autocrats who care little for the difficulties our kids face. They get most frustrated when our direction seems to come out of nowhere. Rather, we should teach them discipline from our own example while rooting everything we teach in the Scriptures.

Seeing the world from our children’s perspective allows parents to have greater insight into what our kids need to become more like Christ. But adopting that mentality also involves adopting humility as a way of life. It can’t be all about us. To truly serve and help our kids, our lives must be turned outward, toward both Christ and our kids (the same focus of Jesus’s two great commands—God and others). Just as living the kind of life that would best serve God involves seeing the world through His eyes, living the kind of life that would most help our kids involves seeing the world through their eyes.

(Photo by flattop341.)

What makes a great family vacation?

Family vacations don't have to be extravagant to be memorable. Sometimes the best times are had doing simple things - time in the car on the road, sightseeing at national monuments, or camping.

Tell us about your best family vacations.

(Photo by Lisa B)

The Night after Christmas - by Wayne Stiles

I’ve decided that during the holiday season we should change the mall’s name to “maul.” I’ve never seen such mayhem—kids running, parents screaming, people impatiently standing in long lines—all to the music of “Joy to the World” in the background. Good grief! The irony of it all seemed somewhat humorous. (But not really.)

And if you decide to head to the “maul” the night after Christmas, you’ll see more of the same chaos—a rush of returns in exchange for even . . . more . . . stuff.

So in honor of those days after Christmas, I’ve decided to try my hand at rewriting Clement Clarke Moore’s Christmas classic. Here she goes. (Ahem.)

’Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house,

Every creature was searching (both me and my spouse),

The stockings, the drawers, we looked everywhere,

In hopes the receipts for our gifts would be there.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the house to see what was the matter.

When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,

But my neighbor, too searching, his trash on the street.

More rapid than eagles he looked, but in vain,

And he shouted his creditors, and called them by name:

“On VISA! On MASTERCARD! On DISCOVER, I’m appalled!

I’ve thrown cash away! Cash away! Cash away—all!”

He’d splurged once again; he knew it too well,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my head,

A gentle reminder from what he had said.

I, too, was as guilty, from my head to my foot,

My conscience was tarnished like ashes and soot;

I focused, this season, on presents and things,

And not on my family, my friends, and my King.

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,

Ran into my house (I’d been such a jerk!),

Right up to my wife I came with a hug,

And kissed all my kids, right there on the rug.

“The night after Christmas is better,” said I,

“Than never recalling in Christmas is Christ!

The best of all gifts, which to us has been given,

Is Jesus, who died for our sins . . . and is risen!”