We may have an early bloom this year. The almonds are starting to pop. Spring has sprung, but this may not be good. If our orchard blooms early, the chance of a frost ruining our harvest rises. February is always unpredictable. Farmers hope for the later bloom. Early blooms cause us angst.
Early blooming children are the same way. Children who are precocious and have to learn the hard way. If I could sum up our oldest son this would be it: he has learned the hard way.
In the seventh grade our son noticed girls. At 16, he wrecked two cars. By seventeen, he had to leave his Christian high school because of partying. Not partying at school, he’s always been a good student, but on weekends with his friends he was caught partying. Now at 18, our son has crashed another car.
Of course people want the details so here they are: yes, the latest wreck was our son’s fault. No, he wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t even speeding. He pulled out in front of another driver he didn’t see. Both cars were totaled. Fortunately nobody was hurt. Feeling sad for this other guy’s ruined car, and worried about safety for everyone, I said to our son, “We didn’t raise you this way. We raised you to be respectful of other people. We raised you in church.”
But this “raising you in church” is coming back to bite me in the butt. Because I’m learning something hard and something new. In the place where grace is most promised, most talked about, most assured, I’m finding the least grace for my son.
A few years ago, my son said to me, “You don’t get it. You and all your church friends only see the rules. You expect kids to follow the rules and that’s it.”
I said, “That’s not true. It’s not all about rules.” I gave him the Christian line, “It’s about relationship.”
But I’m seeing now maybe it is true. Sort of, kind of true with us church folks. Rules are more important than relationships. Why is grace so hard to come by, especially at church?
I have a friend who shares her testimony with women in prisons. She recently told me it’s so much easier to tell these women about her past sins, then to confess those sins to church people. “They don’t give me judgement at the jail, they give me grace.” I’m not sure if this is exactly what my friend said, but this is exactly what she meant. She gets more grace from prisoners than she gets from Christians.
Can we all just say “ouch” here?
Can I tell you my church friends it’s been painful to see your judgement on my son. And can I say this with more love than I ever expected to feel here, I’d rather raise the boy who has wrecked three cars than raise your perfect church kid.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve raised the perfect church kid. Our oldest daughter was perfect until about college, and then she wasn’t anymore. But she was real and she was honest and she helped me grow as a parent. But not nearly as much as our prodigal son has helped me grow.
Because while raising my son, I’ve learned what grace really looks like. It’s nothing like karma. Grace is not getting what you deserve, it’s getting what you don’t deserve. Grace is so unfair.
I read a really good story over at one of my favorite blogs, The High Calling this week. I want to share this story with you. Here it is:
My friend Randy Wolff invited me to speak at a Links Fellowship luncheon and afterwards join him for a round of golf. I hadn’t played in years, but I agreed. Randy is a former touring pro, and his golfing buddies were just about as good. My game, on the other hand, was a humiliating mix of whiffs, tops, slices, and hooks. Fortunately, we were playing in a scramble format. All four players hit their shot and decide which of the four is the best. Then everyone hits their next shot from there. So when I would inevitably hit my ball into the woods, the water, or whiff at it altogether, it didn’t matter, because my next shot was from the best of their shots.
In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 9, Jesus took Peter, John, and James up on a mountain where, in glorious revelation, Jesus shimmered with light and talked with Moses and Elijah (two of Israel’s greatest figures who had died centuries before). A cloud overshadowed them, and God said,
This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!
Peter, John, and James were left speechless. Soon after, they returned to the valley and immediately met the chaos of needy people, including a father whose son suffered from continuous seizures. Jesus’ disciples had tried to heal him but had failed. But Jesus did not fail, and, of course, the boy was healed.
When it comes to faithfulness, Jesus is such a pro, and by comparison the rest of us are hackers and duffers. But Jesus came down from heaven and down from the mountaintop to show us the way. No matter how deep into the woods, water, and weeds we get ourselves, he patiently, persistently, and graciously invites us to come and play our next shot from where he is in the middle of fairway.
That day with Randy and his friends, I played my worst round of golf, but I got the best score of my life–because I was playing with them. How much more this is true as we walk with Jesus and obey him when he asks us to join him on the fairway.
This story so touched me. I’m not completely sure why because I’ve never golfed, but it’s a perfect example of grace, not getting what we have earned or deserve, but getting the goodness of God because of Jesus.
And this part of the story especially moved me: Soon after, they returned to the valley and immediately met the chaos of needy people, including a father whose son suffered from continuous seizures. Jesus’ disciples had tried to heal him but had failed. But Jesus did not fail, and, of course, the boy was healed.
If you’ve ever parented a rebellious child you know how helpless you can sometimes feel. In a way it’s like trying to ward off seizures in your child. You don’t know when the seizures will hit and you don’t know how to stop them from coming. Rebellion is this way. And it can kill your child.
I’ve only talked about my son’s rebellion. I won’t share the many stories of other hurting parents struggling with their rebellious teenagers. And all these parents say the same thing, the church, by far, has been the hardest on them and their kids. Parents of rebellious teens find more grace outside the church.
This shouldn’t be. It really shouldn’t be. Please, my church friends, don’t promise grace if you can’t give it. When a friend confides in you the troubles with their rebellious teen, don’t get on your high horse, or give them a parenting lesson, do what Jesus says to do, pray and fast with your friend for their child to be healed.
I really think we don’t approach rebellion in children this way in church for the same reason we so often offer judgement instead of grace in church. “O faithless and twisted generation, how long must I bear with you,” Jesus says in Luke 9:40-41 when his disciples couldn’t help the father whose son suffered from seizures. The real problem is a lack of faith. Perhaps love is lacking too.
So back to our early bloom. . . if our orchard pops this week, we will spend the next few weeks praying a frost doesn’t hit our trees. Farmers can’t control the frost so we pray. Praying is the best we can do as farmers when it comes to the weather. It’s also the best we can do as Christians when we really need grace.
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