A missionary friend told me once of a person she’d spoken with who, as a child in Africa, was slapped every time she asked a question.
I was moved by the person’s insight: “You don’t just stop asking questions,” they’d mused to my friend.
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I have a child with ADHD and one who’s got a lot of impulsive energy (i.e. occasional irrationality typical to 10-year-old boys) at school.
I know that feeling of seeing the school’s number on my phone and thinking, Please let it be good news.
Last week, in response to one of those less-than-great calls, I had to initiate one of my own that, as a generally non-confrontational person, I prefer to avoid. As in, my heart kind of knocked around just thinking about it.
I was concerned about a matter of school discipline with one of the kids. After trying to reason it away…and then talking to other involved parents…it wasn’t going away.
Sigh.
Some of you might read this post and think, Actually, I don’t care if they think I’m a you-know-what. They’ll know I’m a mom who cares for her child.
And maybe you’re right.
But sometimes, there’s a happier medium. What if conflict with that coach or babysitter or in-law leaves us, the relationship, our child, and the situation stronger.
Adding a bit more weight: We’re playing out for our kids how to handle conflict on an adult level.
What will they see? A few hopeful thoughts.
We’ve seen this just co-parenting with a spouse or stepparent. Our spouse and kids need to see we’ve got our spouse’s back–or our kids divide and conquer.
But there are moments you look at your spouse and think, You did not just do that.
Similarly, in Sunday School or daycare or school, any kid see he can divide you and his other authority figure. He’s taking his cues from you about whether he should respect authority in other environments than home.
Here’s the tension. Having had close relationships with victims of abuse? At times, advocating for your child, validating their inner (albeit occasionally errant) sense of justice can mean the world someday when they’re asking, “Who fought for me when people hurt me?”
Help kids see God as shield and defender through you—and yet still as respected authority figure.
It’s a little like hiring a lawyer: It’s great to have someone advocate for you. But both of you need to be on the side of the law (i.e. what’s right).
It’s the first step. Rather than defending our child to the death, can we teach them–even when they’re only, say, 30% responsible for the conflict–to take 100% responsibility for that 30%?
I hate that feeling of, I probably would have done something really different if I hadn’t been furious.
The consequences of our decisions—especially the impulsive ones—can have longtime ramifications on our kids. They can lend themselves to authority figures that don’t like them because of authorities’ interactions with us.
(And P.S.? Sometimes our kids lie. So there might be a fuller story to understand.)
How could your navigation of this situation affect how your child’s treated in the ongoing relationship?
Maybe you’re just ready to burn that bridge, already. But I think, too, of 2 Corinthians 5:18-20:
Through Christ [God] reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.
Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.
Through us, are people getting the idea of God’s heart for reconciliation?
You will not be there (or should not?) when he’s addressing a quiz grade with a professor. Or dealing with his missed deadlines at work. Or arguing with his girlfriend or wife.
Before you step in or ask for that change of teacher or deliver that ultimatum, are there character lessons to be gleaned from the long game? See Should I let my kid quit? Questions to ask.
Creating us vs. them categories dehumanizes the other person. It creates an easier environment for us not to empathize. Not to respect. Not to be teachable or humble. To judge, rather than care for “that teacher.”
Check out Am I judgmental? Judgment vs. discernment.
To be more specific—you’ve got things that become overly precious to you.
(For me, it can be how I look as a parent. How my child is viewed. Being liked. Being respected. Feeling in control.)
The person you’ll be speaking with has their own idols.
If you can, don’t feed any of them.
Part of this involves first grounding ourselves in who God says we are because of Christ: Not in what we do, or what people think of us (/our kids), or the security/control/comfort we have. (See Beating Up Elvira: Self-talk, Identity, & the Enemy Stalking Your Brain.)
I like to pray Psalm 25:15 sometimes when I’m wrestling with some of the same old issues of identity. Or should be. My eyes are ever toward the Lord, for he will pluck my feet out of the net.
What could this look liks? You don’t necessarily cave when you’re being manipulated or sweet-talked. It means you can let a small insult slide. You might refuse to backpedal out of sheer cowardice. You could deny your own defensiveness.
Because your identity doesn’t come from what your child’s teacher thinks of you.
You could rest when your request gets a final, immovable no, because God loves your child and has plans for her future, even when those plans divert wildly from ours.
Just say no to gossip, social media raging, talking with people who aren’t part of the solution (aka gossip), and these other ways you might be cannibalizing your own conflict.
The Golden Rule is a great way to evaluate whether you should speak.
If a person is on the defensive, usually his or her brain is in fight or flight or freeze mode—not “please tell me what I’m doing wrong so I can change” mode. You might resort to the classic, “When you __, I feel __.”
I turn to Proverbs on this one: A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger (15:1).
To do this, before meeting the other party, decide what interests lie beneath the issue between you. When you’re believing the best about the other person, what do you think they want to preserve? What do you want to preserve? (When in doubt, ask them.)
Beneath, say, the teacher’s conviction your child should stay in during recess on your child’s bad days could be his need for an orderly classroom and firm, effective consequences.
Beneath your desire for your child to have a recess may be your desire for the teacher not to go crazy, and your child not to loathe school.
Is there a way you could propose that would serve both interests?
Increase the level of interaction to be as personal as you can: Even that email your best friend thought was well-written can’t substitute the trust and power of physical presence, or at least a congenial phone call demonstrating your respect of the individual.
As far as it depends on you, eliminate time crunches around an appointment, or gathering when either of you are exhausted. (Who wants to be the principal’s after-school appointment on a Friday?)
Consider asking questions like,
Of course, this doesn’t always mean “be nice”. (Though from personal experience—kindness has won far more battles for me than combativeness.)
It does mean we carry around the aroma of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:15-17), and need to consider wisely whether these are true issues of justice, or slights we can teach our kids to overlook: “It is to a man’s glory to overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11).
This post–What’s God Think of Strong Women? –explores (among other things) ways we sometimes misinterpret or misuse strength. But you can be strong without being a you-know-what: If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all (Romans 12:18).
Keep advocating for your child, Mama Bear. But do it with classy respect.
I hung up from the nerve-jangling call last week with a deep breath. I’d come away with action points for our parenting at home–but feeling like the authority figure and I were more on the same team than ever. And bonus: my child wasn’t blacklisted. He showed me a slight smile when I told him I’d called.
Whew.
Conflict had become more than an obstacle–and had morphed into an opportunity.
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Print it FREE here! And if you like it, I’d love it if you shared it so more people can have access to these ideas.
Here’s to a more “wholehearted ” week at your house.
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I wonder what the highest standard for motherhood is in your group of friends. Is it clear where you should be sending your kids to school, or what educational concepts they should have mastered? Whether you should vaccinate? Whether you use essential oils or antibiotics? Which programs your kids are enrolled in, how your daughter’s room is decorated, or what cute ideas you found on Pinterest for her birthday party?
I’ve only been back in the States for a month, so maybe I’m picking up on the wrong vibes. But—I am picking up on some significant pressure that we both give and receive from each other as mommas. Maybe you’re insecure like I was as a young mom, and sometimes still am. So much is imploding in front of you, despite your utter exhaustion. I admit to a wee bit of wicked consolation when another friend has a pile of dirty dishes that’s kind of erupted all over the rest of the kitchen, or when her kid also has a head-turning meltdown in the housewares aisle.
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I’ve written before about this whole idea of our opportunities versus whether we’re actually called to do something. Oh—and about the true cost of my overcommitment.
And I’m happy to report that I have proudly mastered these concepts in full. And it seems I’ve still got a looooong. Long. Way. To go.
Long story short, this weekend found me sitting for 2.5 hours in the car with three kids—which is exactly as fun as it sounds—because of something to which I overcommitted in the first place. Before I left, I’d had to say no to seeing a friend for the last time before she left for two months; had to say no to a peaceful holiday with my family, despite my worn soul, due to my lack of foresight.
The funny thing, as I reflected in my consternation and yes, tears, is that I didn’t even think about saying no.
I’m amazed at how many Westerners respond to the question, “How’s life?” with, “Busy!” And I’ve gotta loop myself in there. Our spirituality ups the ante of our “opportunities”: Who wants to say no to something God might be putting in our paths?
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