She gave me a gift that day.

Years ago, my friend and I sat on my back porch in Uganda–no doubt with tea or coffee in hand. I was preparing for our first home assignment, and the forecasted meltdowns of at least one jetlagged child in a crowded plane where everyone would be able to sleep if it weren’t for your kid.

Our youngest would have been three, and 20 hours of flying or so makes full-fledged adults want to throw their own fits sometimes.

My friend’s wise words to me that day: “People expect kids to mess up. It’s how the parents handle it that makes the difference.”

I think of God’s words that it’s his kindness that leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4). If my kid did the limp-body thing in the middle of the aisle, bawling when everyone’s hoping to get off the plane, I can scoop him up and whisper in his ear: I know you’re so tired. We’re almost there.

If he hits a sibling in his exhaustion, I can calmly discipline with a consequence, rather than blowing my own top.

(We discipline differently for rebellion than for childishness, no?)

Their inevitable childishness or outright sin is going to happen, despite my perfectionism, control, or vigilance. But what I do with those invitations to love my kids like Jesus?

That’s my (Holy-Spirit-fueled) choice.

Saw that coming: When your kid acts like a kid

Maybe these don’t feel like a huge “aha” to you. But this jewel folded in my hands has offered me comfort–when, say, the principal called to say my son was caught jumping off the urinals in the school bathroom, trying to touch the air freshener.

Or having teens, when I’m discouraged by choices they make.

But that idea doesn’t just extend me comfort. There’s wisdom in expecting our kids to be childish–or even to be sinners. I mean, God actually prophesied that his kids would screw up.

It prevents me from being as crestfallen when I discover my child spit cherry pits on the floor. 

Yet, to quote my mom, I’ve learned to always expect your kids are smarter than you think they are. And I’m not just talking about them understanding a great deal about adult dynamics and conversations in a home. See, they’ll also be crafty at seeking out ways to sin.

I mean, we’ve all been in those conversations where you or a sibling reveal to your own parents what you were actually getting away with in high school.

Don’t get me wrong. Yes: Have lofty hopes and goals for your kids. Don’t water them down or dumb them down.

I believe in the “aim small, miss small” philosophy: If we aim for holiness and perfection in our kids, the consequences of them making decisions off that mark are hopefully far less.

And yet, it’s healthy to totally anticipate they’ll mess up, as sinners like ourselves tend to do. (If we don’t, in our shock that our little angels would do such a thing, we might be prone to shame-parenting.)

So my thoughts are these, when my kid acts like a kid:

1. I can expect my child to be a little sinner.
2. I can be prepared to act in redemptive, rather than shaming ways–like God acts toward me when I screw up or generally act like a human. (Don’t miss God’s Attachment Love. Your Kid’s Darkest Moment. Your Open Window)
3. I can ultimately place my trust in God. He commandeers even my kids’ mistakes for his purposes (check out Genesis 50:20).

So when your kid acts like a kid this week? Don’t miss your chance to show them Jesus.

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