Discipline them before you delight in them.
“Don't give me money, Mr. Boffin, I won't have money. Keep it away from me, and only let me speak to good little Pa, and lay my head upon his shoulder, and tell him all my griefs. Nobody else can understand me, nobody else can comfort me, nobody else knows how unworthy I am, and yet can love me like a little child. I am better with Pa than any one--more innocent, more sorry, more glad!"
Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend
The less we laugh with our children, the less they will benefit from any of our instruction, correction, or discipline.
The usefulness of our correction in their lives will never exceed the depth, comfort, and constancy of our whole-hearted connection with them…and them with us.
Do not misunderstand me. Loving correction and gracious discipline is a priceless gift to a child. No greater unkindness is done to any young one than to "protect" him or her from caring, consistent correction.
So I will say, again - the less we laugh with our children, the less they will benefit from our training.
Here's my earnest proposition for your consideration:
Our correction or discipline of our children is only as effective as the environment of joy it interrupts.
Too many parents are laboring to discipline their children into children they can (eventually) enjoy. They rightly assume—affirmed by the wise proverbs of Solomon and the general observation of life—that an untrained child will bring little pleasure to a father and mother - or anyone else in the general vicinity.
They are right.
Misapplied, this wise observation can hazardously reverse the right order of pleasure and punishment. Deep joy in our children must be plainly evident before judicious discipline of our children can produce any happy results.
We must delight in our children before we discipline them and, again, our discipline will—plainly and simply—be effective in direct proportion to the delight it interrupts!
Disciplinary failures, both of abuse and avoidance, are rooted in the exact same misconception about what correction is.
Here is the logic of the issue.
Most parents training their kids understand that there is a conduct/consequence connection that they are seeking to weave into their daughter’s or son’s discernment. Therefore, they rightly (in one sense) assume that the greater the discomfort of the correction, the greater the effect will be on the child's conduct.
The great trouble (and potential, enormous harm) comes in misunderstanding what is the true source of loving, effective discomfort.
If we assume that physical, verbal, or emotional punishment is the primary, effective “discomfort" of discipline, then we are certain to be driven to one of two dangerous, heartbreaking, and fully unfruitful patterns of correction—even if they seem like opposites.
On the one hand, some—wrongly believing that the punishment (of whatever type) is the discomfort reinforcing the correction—will inflict serious wounds, of many kinds, upon their—seeking to make their discipline more effective through intensity.
This is horrifying and so many have experienced it.
On the other hand, others—with a right and healthy loathing for severity—will neglect consistent discipline of any kind. The errors and harms of both abuse and avoidance arise from the same false assumption.
Listen—any specific application of correction is intended to awaken and alert a child to the heart-breaking, harmful, impoverishing consequences of destructive or hurtful behavior; but the correction itself is not supposed to be the consequence of misbehavior.
Stay with me here.
If my son does not know, without question, that I both permanently love him and immeasurably enjoy him and want his joy, then effective discipline is simply impossible. Only in the context of my ordinary, predictable, growing, and fully-felt delight in him, will the sting of any correction get to the heart of the good we want for him and the danger of foolish behavior.
Lovingly applied, correction does not primarily draw my daughter's attention to the brief discomfort—it draws her attention to an interrupted delight. The pain of that brief loss, and, therefore, the effectiveness of the correction, is measured by the extent of normal pleasure that my kids enjoy in the days of life spent with me.
How much more true, even, is this whole principle, as we move on to guide, challenge, gracefully correct, and urge maturity and vision into our older children?
If the harder conversations, even corrections, are not interrupting eager-conversation, honest-about-ourselves-conversation, knowing-them conversation, exploring-everything conversation, curious- and questioning-conversation, silly-conversation, intimate-conversation, always-conversation—then the fruitful effect of the good (but challenging) corrective conversations will lay cold on the heart—more likely to stir up distance and resistance and withdrawal, than responsive, appreciative growth.
If the experience of discipline for our children is more an addition of emotional or physical discomfort than it is a brief loss of familiar delight, then our training is unlikely plant in them a hopeful, expectant vision of their future or stir them to love the happy kindness of God’s grace.
It’s far more likely that the painful intrusion will incline them toward resentment and rejection or perhaps toward habits of approval-seeking through legalism and external obedience.
Pharisees live to avoid God's punishment more than they long for the embrace of His wholehearted pleasure.
The child who is trained to earn his parents joy through obedience is well equipped for skilled religion (or rebellion) and is likely to be suspicious (at best) about the offer of God's free, affectionate, and extravagant grace.
From my first amazed tears in the delivery room, alongside each accomplishment or heartbreak or even stumble—until this very hour—am I living and laughing and lingering and looking and learning—with my son or daughter—in a way that shouts to them that it is too good to be true that I get to have each one of them be part of my life?
For life!
Do I linger at the door, so disappointed to leave the delightful commotion of home; or do I linger at the office, more than content to limit my participation in the treasures and tangles that may await me when I return?
Do we anticipate with more pleasure the last day of the school year when our kids will start spending their days at home with us or the last day of summer break when the kids will head back to school?
Our honest answers to these questions have more impact on the effectiveness of our training and nurturing of our children than we would ever imagine.
The more we laugh with our children, the more they will benefit from our correction. The more we enjoy our children, the less severe—and more effective—our discipline will be.
Because, again, the effect of our correction is measured directly by the experience of joy that it interrupts.
Every dad and mom should go out on dates, and, at the same time, we should nearly have to be told to do so. And when we do enjoy a night out, the kids should see our eagerness to return to them, more than they sensed our relief on the way out the door.
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We would love for you to listen to this week’s companion podcast episode: “Delight-based Parenting” at the link below!
This series of blogposts are being posted in conjunction with Season 2 of the “No Mere Mortals” podcast (this link is to the Apple podcast app, but NMM is also available at Spotify and in other podcast apps). Jump on over to the podcast to listen to Lisa and my conversations on grace-rooted, joy-shaped, self-righteousness-suffocating home life and relationships!
Track along with all that we are doing here at Enjoying Grace Story Co. at Don’s Instagram