ShareThisIt's not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive at the restart.
-- "Roll Away Your Stone," by Mumford and Sons
I often say "It Takes a Parent" to raise a child. Ironically, that was the title of the book I was writing when I unexpectedly became that single parent. The title then took on new meaning. Over the subsequent years, I've realized more than ever that while parenting can sometimes be done by one person successfully, it's a job designed for two.
Sometimes, it takes a small, well-trained army -- a village -- to raise a little one. Not in the sense of more federal funding for all sorts of expensive programs, but in the sense of caring adults involved in the lives of each other and each other's kids. Giving and receiving grace, or "unmerited favor." Something we all need.
I was reminded of this again one recent weekend. Three of my four children were at my sister's house, in my absence. One behaved badly, very badly, in front of other extended family and guests. My sister needed to step in and admonish the child, then make sure an apology to the assemblage took place. The offending party wasn't as contrite as one would have liked in that instance. But it was a start.
I know from first-hand experience, by the way, that true repentance often takes time. It's a process. To be caught in wrongdoing is just the beginning. Sometimes we need to let true repentance, whether in ourselves or in others, take shape. That happens with grace. That's what happened here, as the offending child came to me the next day with I believe were heartfelt tears and no excuses for the bad behavior.
Anyway, here's the point: My sister didn't condemn me for my child's behavior. She believes that I am trying to do the best that I can. And she gives me the freedom to fail in that process. And sometimes I do. Big time. She could step in because this was about helping me to help my child. That's grace.
It's also the case that I don't have my ego tied up in my children. Frankly, I'm quite sure I would if I had had the perfect, rocket scientist children I had planned on. But I didn't get those four kids. I got the amazing, flawed, wonderful, difficult, delightful souls that I did. Who knew?
I see the challenges they present as God's grace to me, too.
Well, this may all seem like a little thing. But it's a wonderful thing to have a member of "the village" confidently step in and say to a child, "I love you too much to let you do that here," instead of being so worried about my ego that it might only be whispered to me later, if at all. Possibly with condemnation of me in the process, and most important with the difficulty in the child's heart going unanswered in the moment.
I think as a mom of several children herself, my sister "gets" it. That's how the village is supposed to work. That's grace.
Other friends and family have stepped in to help me over the years. In the process, I'm often reminded that where there is grace there is little room for defensiveness.
Of course, that lesson can translate to so many relationships. If we let it:
It's not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive at the restart.
(Betsy Hart is the author of "It Takes a Parent: How the Culture of Pushover Parenting Is Hurting Our Kids." (Putnam Books). Reach her at hartmailbox-mycolumn(at)yahoo.com.)
FROM THE HART
