This was a description of me when I started out parenting: "you might have deeply unrealistic expectations about what life on this earth really entails." And several years into it, encounters with Tourette's and OCD's made gratitude and begging on my knees displace "expectations" to a great extent. Many years later, having seen friends suffer through more intractable and terrible things, I read about that poor boy who was like a corpse AFTER Christ vanquished the demon and I now know for certain "It is the Person to whom you run". Finding him in church with other believers who don't understand or might have their own captivities seems so counter-intuitive, but He is there as he promised. How would we learn to trust his promises or realize His faithfulness if we had never been driven to need them both so badly?
What I found most disturbing about the New York Times article was the idea that parenting should be “the responsibility of the whole society.” This seems to be a widespread belief on the Left as indicated by the increasing erosion of parental rights. The most glaring example is how so many schools want to help kids turn trans without notifying their parents. Also, they think that a teenage girl should be free to get an abortion without telling her parents. If the Left ever managed to completely get rid of parental rights, I could see them forbidding parents to teach religion to their children on the grounds that religion is “divisive,” spreads “hate,” and is not “inclusive.”
Your depiction of parenting today led so effectively to your honest discussion of nomological existence and to the appropriate despair at the end of that yellow brick road. Such an end as you point out becomes the place to meet the One whose entire ministry reversed sin, death, and all their children and utterly defeated the powers of darkness. The risen Christ Jesus is Lord and our only hope (pay attention, Francis). May we all cry to Him, 'I believe; help my unbelief!'
My wife and I had one of those weeks where the wine bar required most of our time and parenting felt like it existed only in the short time between waking up the kids and shuttling them to their respective schools, or the frantic dash to get them to and from places and making it back to the shop in time to open the doors on time. After a week of falling behind on every other aspect in life beyond the narrow focus of the shop, our daughter’s High School principal sent out a message to all parents that the school had received a threat via Snapchat and the police were involved, and indeed, the refrain, “we are not able,” came crashing down with brutal clarity. I love the moment in the narrative where directly following his chastisement he opens a door of belief, a moment of mercy to the father who replies, “I believe; help my unbelief.” I pray this prayer quite often. And the beauty then is the mercy Christ extends to the father and child, and then that subtle moment of quiet action when the boy looked to be dead, “But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up.” Parenting well could be an act of folly these days, a sort of “Charge of the Light Brigade” in a relentless onslaught. But then i think of that moment of mercy extended to that father and boy and turn to the mournful lyrics of Mary Gauthier’s mournful song, Mercy Now, and sing that little prayer alongside her:
This was a description of me when I started out parenting: "you might have deeply unrealistic expectations about what life on this earth really entails." And several years into it, encounters with Tourette's and OCD's made gratitude and begging on my knees displace "expectations" to a great extent. Many years later, having seen friends suffer through more intractable and terrible things, I read about that poor boy who was like a corpse AFTER Christ vanquished the demon and I now know for certain "It is the Person to whom you run". Finding him in church with other believers who don't understand or might have their own captivities seems so counter-intuitive, but He is there as he promised. How would we learn to trust his promises or realize His faithfulness if we had never been driven to need them both so badly?
What I found most disturbing about the New York Times article was the idea that parenting should be “the responsibility of the whole society.” This seems to be a widespread belief on the Left as indicated by the increasing erosion of parental rights. The most glaring example is how so many schools want to help kids turn trans without notifying their parents. Also, they think that a teenage girl should be free to get an abortion without telling her parents. If the Left ever managed to completely get rid of parental rights, I could see them forbidding parents to teach religion to their children on the grounds that religion is “divisive,” spreads “hate,” and is not “inclusive.”
Great reminders, Anne - seek and cling to Jesus. He is our only hope in all things.
Your depiction of parenting today led so effectively to your honest discussion of nomological existence and to the appropriate despair at the end of that yellow brick road. Such an end as you point out becomes the place to meet the One whose entire ministry reversed sin, death, and all their children and utterly defeated the powers of darkness. The risen Christ Jesus is Lord and our only hope (pay attention, Francis). May we all cry to Him, 'I believe; help my unbelief!'
My wife and I had one of those weeks where the wine bar required most of our time and parenting felt like it existed only in the short time between waking up the kids and shuttling them to their respective schools, or the frantic dash to get them to and from places and making it back to the shop in time to open the doors on time. After a week of falling behind on every other aspect in life beyond the narrow focus of the shop, our daughter’s High School principal sent out a message to all parents that the school had received a threat via Snapchat and the police were involved, and indeed, the refrain, “we are not able,” came crashing down with brutal clarity. I love the moment in the narrative where directly following his chastisement he opens a door of belief, a moment of mercy to the father who replies, “I believe; help my unbelief.” I pray this prayer quite often. And the beauty then is the mercy Christ extends to the father and child, and then that subtle moment of quiet action when the boy looked to be dead, “But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up.” Parenting well could be an act of folly these days, a sort of “Charge of the Light Brigade” in a relentless onslaught. But then i think of that moment of mercy extended to that father and boy and turn to the mournful lyrics of Mary Gauthier’s mournful song, Mercy Now, and sing that little prayer alongside her:
Yea, we all could use a little mercy now.
I know we don’t deserve it
But we need it anyhow.
We hang in the balance
Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground.
Every single one of us
could use some mercy now.