Correction

I think I overcorrect my children. 

Some of you reading this who know my kids may think their behavior could use MORE correction, not less.  :) But seriously, I struggle with this. 

Like most moms, my greatest influence on my mothering is my own mom.  I had a terrific mom – still do – but I also grew up in a very legalistic religion.  Rules and regulations with plenty of nicely worded ‘thou shalls and thou shall nots’ permeated the teaching.  Of course, it was all under the guise of being “biblical”. 

Though I’ve been away from that religion for decades, that legalism shaped me as I was growing up and still rears its head.  While I’ve long since discovered what it means to live in “grace” I sometimes find legalism permeating my mothering. 

You see, I’m not always certain what behavior needs to be corrected and what does not.  Shouldn’t every infraction be addressed?  What is simply immaturity, i.e. kids being kids?  Or is acknowledging that “they’re being boys” really just me giving an excuse for bad behavior?  When do I need to ignore something and when do I need to intervene?  If I extend grace or mercy towards my kids, is that really the best choice, or am I teaching them they don’t really need to obey or that the rules will only be enforced “sometimes”?  I don’t necessarily think these thoughts on a conscious level in the moment, but I know they undergird some of my in-the-moment choices – especially when I’m tired or emotional.  That is when these doubts run rampant.

The problem with legalism is that it is grounded in fear – fear that bad consequences will happen if all the rules are not obeyed perfectly.  When I’m being a legalistic mom, I’m really operating out of a fear that unless I’m on top of every single issue, every single time, my kids will grow up to be banshees.  That’s my fear-based thinking.

But my rational mind tells me that it simply cannot be that every single action needs correction.  Moreover, when I consider how God parents me, I don’t see Him attacking my every shortcoming.  Instead, God focuses on particular areas of my life and works on those.  He doesn’t nit-pick my every move.  Indeed, I couldn’t even imagine how overwhelmed I’d feel if He focused on my every infraction:

“Lisa, you didn’t do your devo this morning.  In fact, you haven’t prayed for your kids in the past two days.  No, you may not speak to your husband that way.  Was that anger I heard in your voice?  You need to sit in your room until your attitude improves.  Did you not do any laundry?  Was that another piece of chocolate you ate?  Did you really just lie to that person?” 

And on, and on He could go. 

But He doesn’t.  My God lets an awful lot of my behavior slide.  I know it’s not because He’s perfectly pleased with me, but rather that He knows what to focus on and what to leave for another day.  He “knows how I am formed, and that I am only dust.”  (Psalm 103:14).  Even when I know better, He doesn’t jump on my every action and seize every opportunity to correct me.

And yet, I still do that with my kids – not always, but often enough that it bothers me.  Unless I’m intentional and very diligent to do the opposite, my tendency to legalism will govern and overshadow everything else.   Unless I decide which behaviors need to be corrected and which can be saved for another day, I’ll spend my every moment correcting my kids.  Ultimately, it comes down to trust:  unless I trust that God’s way of parenting me is a model for me to parent my kids, I will simply engage in a pattern of behavior modification that does nothing to help me reach my children’s hearts.  And it is only in reaching their hearts that real and lasting life change can happen.