“Mommy do!” insists my two-year-old.
“I can’t!” whines my five-year-old.
“I don’t know how!” laments my ten-year-old.
No matter the age, all children have their moments of insecurity, self-doubt, and—sometimes—laziness. So, how do we tackle those “I can’t” moments? Often my first response is, “Of course you can!” Sometimes, though, a more nuanced approach might be better. This month three Heart to heart authors offer their approaches for how to deal with the “I can’ts.”
Do you have a parenting question you’d like Heart to heart’s authors to consider? Please send it our way! We’re developing our 2017 calendar, and we’d love to have your input. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org.
It’s hot in South Carolina in the summer. Sunny too. How’s that for stating the obvious? The solution? Go to the pool. That’s where my daughter’s “can’t” came to life in a way stronger than anything I’d seen in her before. She didn’t want to dunk her head, but at the same time she did. She was at war with herself.
Saying no to something one can do sometimes is always about an inner tension for a Christian. We’ve all felt it. One minute you’re making the grand pronouncement, “I can do it all by myself.” And the next, just like my daughter did, you stare at what’s in front of you and say, “Daddy, I can’t.” Sometimes it’s the unknown you don’t want to face. Sometimes it’s the fear of failure that grips you. Other times it’s the easiness of inertia that captures your heart.
There is no one-size-fits-all solution to overcome the “can’ts.” But helping we need to help our children know how God has recreated them in baptism is . I think that’s important. God didn’t baptize us into timid lives or shy choices or despairing attempts at worthwhile living. He certainly did not want us to face life fearing every event. Confidence in our love for our children and especially God’s love for them is a factor in moving forward. He baptized us into lives of confidence, love, and self-discipline. And so for me, saying “can’t” when you can isn’t just a matter of merely pounding on the will or somehow gaining compliance; it’s a matter of understanding the gospel itself.
That’s why I relished my daughter’s “can’t” moment. I saw it not as a moment to develop more grit in her but rather to set loose the grit she already possessed in her recreated self. And I believed that turning her former “no” into a full-bodied “YES” wasn’t really a matter of pushing on her will. I believed it was a matter of putting down her old will that was holding her back and raising up her more powerful, recreated will so she’d turn into the dolphin I knew she could be.
How do you that in real-time, real-life living? You apply law and gospel. Was she scared of her underwater attempt? I gave her the safety net of a father’s gentleness and ever-present love. Was she being lazy or combative? That’s not who God recreated her to be, and I don’t have time for that. Some variation of “Git ‘er done” was occasionally the right medicine for the moment. Was she emotionally tapped out? Then it was time to float with the noodles, take a break, and try again later. My goal throughout? Nurture her recreated self and put down her old one.
How’d that turn out for us this summer? Honestly? I’m happy to report that she has now officially turned into a dolphin. And better yet, she is living her recreated life more powerfully making waves for Jesus. And not just in the pool either.
Jonathan Bourman is a pastor at Peace, Aiken, S.C. He and his wife, Melanie, have a three-year-old daughter.
“I cahn’t! I-I-I cah-h-hn’t!” That’s the lament of my three-year-old grandson as he fit together jigsaw puzzle pieces. Within two minutes the puzzle was complete, and he was on to another puzzle. But the chant continued. “I cahn’t!” Cute.
Doubting one’s adequacy may be cute at three. It loses charm by grade school. So how do we best love our kids when they insist, “I can’t,” but we parents know they can? I have five guidelines as a conversation starter.
Show grace. Lead with love, not law. Let your self-skeptical kids know they are loved—loved by you and, even better, loved without measure by God. Try, “I’m sorry you don’t think you can do this. I want you to know I love you more than anything else. And Jesus loves you much more than that.”
Don’t only begin with an emphasis on God’s grace. Throughout your conversation circle back to your love, a love that won’t diminish because of your child’s failures, a love that is driven by God’s love for you. Make God’s grace tangible with your actions—a hug, a smile, a back rub.
Yes, laying down the law has a place. But refuse to start there.
Seek to understand. Ask, “Why do you think you can’t do this?” Your child is believing a lie. Expose the falsehood to the warmth of truth and the problem evaporates.
There are many reasons we might doubt our abilities, including others’ negative opinions, fear of failure, prior failures, and peer pressure.
Share your positive evaluation. Gently offer your own view of the gifts and abilities God has given your child. Suggest evidence for your view. “I know you can do this. Remember how you swam across the pool and surprised us all?”
Talk about grace and giftedness. Go beyond offering your evaluation. Talk about grace’s evaluation. Grace insists your child is unimaginably precious to God. The Son of God coming to be our Savior proves that. But in addition, God’s grace means your child is spectacularly gifted as the exact person God wants on this planet today. Consider Ephesians 2:10, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Offer appropriate assistance. You might say, “What if you and I do this together?” “I’ll show you; then you can do the rest.” “I’d be willing to get you started on this project.”
Different kids in different situations at different times in their lives need to be approached differently, of course. What advice would you add?
James Aderman and his wife, Sharon, raised three daughters and are now enjoying their eight grandchildren.
It can happen around age 12.
Your daughter suddenly quits the team. Refuses to enter the music contest. Starts getting Bs when she’s always been an A student.
It isn’t laziness. It isn’t fear of failure. It’s fear of success.
Near the onset of puberty, your little girl who once outran all the girls and out-mathed all the boys wakes up one day and says, “I can’t,” when you know—and she knows—she absolutely can. Why?
Because sometimes success brings negative social repercussions, especially for adolescent girls. Insecure boys don’t like to be outdone, so they reject her for the girls who make them feel stronger and smarter. Competitive girls resent her achievements, so they kick her down the social ladder. In a hundred ways, her peers punish her for outpacing them, no matter how humbly she does so.
What’s a parent to do?
It might be tempting to sit that girl down and remind her, “To whom much is given, much is required.” God demands she use her talents, not bury them.
Let’s not. Let’s not use the law in this way. Even if such tactics succeed and your daughter starts using her gifts faithfully again, she’ll be doing it out of guilt. She may even begin to resent the God whose love, it seems, comes with strings.
Instead, build her up.
1. Tell your daughter you’re proud of her when she works hard, whether her efforts are successful or not.
2. Be generous and specific with praise.
3. Stop saying, “You can do anything, honey.” She knows it isn’t true, and it only makes her wonder whether your other praise is empty too.
4. Make your home a safe place, where your daughter can say, “It felt so cool to win!” It’s honest, and having permission to say it at home may eliminate that feeling to seek praise in public, which really will hurt her social standing—and rightly so.
5. When you see jealousy or pettiness in any of your kids, put your foot down. The family is a support network, not a rugby scrum.
6. When you see jealousy or pettiness in your daughter’s friends, help her recognize it for what it is and try to understand the pain and insecurity that causes it.
7. Foster humility by helping your daughter recognize that every person is gifted, whether those gifts win plaques at award banquets or not. And some of those gifts—humor, empathy, work ethic—will count far more in adulthood than fine free throw shooting. Your daughter may be gifted, but so is everyone else.
One of Satan’s favorite tools is to shut down Christians’ talents. He’ll tempt our daughters to make themselves smaller than they are, to sabotage themselves, to feel guilty when they faithfully use the gifts God gave.
Let’s not let that Liar win. Let’s help our daughters humbly and faithfully say, “I can do this. For my Savior, I can do this.”
Laurie Gauger-Hested and her husband, Michael, have a blended family that includes her two 20-somethings and his teenage son.
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Author: Multiple Authors
Volume 103, Number 10
Issue: October 2016
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