Qui docet discit. He who teaches learns. When it comes to parenting maybe the phrase should be "qui docet discit exponatiali" Which might be Latin for "he who teaches learns, exponentially". ( I make my Latin up as I go). Our offspring are little reflectors of us both in general sin and specific sin. And, at least in my case, the lessons learned, the reflections seen, by me the parent are often more painful than than the ones learned by the child.
Let's scrape one recent event onto the slide and peak through the microscope...
Ethan is now five months passed his second birthday and thinks nothing is more fun than running away when he is beckoned hither.
And we explain why that is not recommended behavior and discipline accordingly. So recently when I called him to me before I left for work I saw the fire in his eyes that said "dad must not be serious, I shall run!" it disappointed me a little more than usual. I mean ,we've really been working on this. And he should know better. And it made me a little sad.
And then he jumped up onto the couch.
And I could see exactly what was going to happen.
He started backing up, closer to the far edge, closer to a backwards flip ending with his head bouncing off the hard edge of the ottoman. But in his mind here was old dad, ruining his fun. And that is exactly what happened as I tried and failed to apprehend his reverse dive to disobedience and goose eggs. "Damn it!", I cursed, telling myself that was in reference to his sin. I think it was.
He cried, surprised that his escape didn't lead to chocolate milk and happiness.
And right there as he sat crying on my knee, I saw my reflection in his tears. All to often I seek temporary fun- running from my Heavenly Father- and every time it leads to disappointment and spiritual goose eggs. And God isn't grumpy with me, muttering "I told you so" under His breath, tapping His foot waiting for me to grovel. No, He wants to continue in relationship with me.
As a father I need to reflect to my son the love, the "welcome back" to the relationship kind of attitude that my Father has shown to me. When the prodigal son returned home he looked up as his father ran down the road, arms open, calling out party instructions. How much more should that reflect in my response to my son as he is growing up.
This fatherhood thing is fun, dirty reflections and all.
