Yesterday I taught again. It was the first lesson from the “Strengthening Families” course. The lesson was on parenting principles and practices. As I was preparing it I fought feelings of inferiority. I am no parenting sage, and my children would readily testify to that. Sure I could review the quotes and scriptures, but what could I add? What do I know? But then I had an epiphany: I could draw on my parents’ wisdom rather than my own experiences! The pauper had just won the lottery! I was wealthy with experiences and anecdotes. After all. that is what The Ensign purchased. Maybe this is why I was given this calling. It all made sense now. Here is a story that I had my friend Nate read in class yesterday:
One Fast Sunday when I was about 12, we came home from church and my mom began preparing dinner, but it wouldn’t be ready for hours. My younger siblings broke their fast on cold cereal, but I knew if I did the same I would be in trouble. I was angry. I hated Fast Sunday. Why did it have to be so hard? What would be the harm in a bowl of Lucky Charms? I’d already fasted breakfast. I hated being one of the older kids. I was lying on the couch, sulking and pouting as much as I dared, when my dad invited me to take a walk with him. “Here it comes” I thought. I was sure I was going to get a lecture about fasting or attitude or accountability or something.
After walking a block in silence, he began explaining the seemingly conflicting laws of justice and mercy, and how the Savior’s atonement satisfied both laws. I struggled to see a connection between this topic and my present pouting. As the lesson continued, I gave up trying to see a link, and just enjoyed receiving a “grown-up” lesson. He never said a word about fasting or food until we got home and he said that if I needed to eat, to go ahead. Perhaps he was demonstrating “mercy” but there was no way I was going to stoop to cereal now. I’d just been discussing serious gospel principles with Dad; I wasn’t a small kid anymore.
See what I mean? I think this is going to be a productive six months. They got it right. At no point did Dad restrict my agency but by treating me with respect, and by treating me like someone he wanted me to be, he made the right choice easy for me.
I did point out that the same approach may not always work on our children. I tried something similar once with Ryan a few years ago and within 30 seconds of my saying it was OK if he ate, he was shoving tortillas in his mouth. Every child is different, but the principles of good parenting are constant.
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