I
think I can safely say that every parent has dreams and hopes for
their children. I certainly do. For Christians (and probably for
followers of other religions), one of those hopes is that our
children will grow to accept and walk in the faith that we profess.
We take our kids to Sunday School and to youth programs, send them to
summer camps and engage in conversations about faith around the home
so that they will hear the stories of the Bible and embrace the
Gospel message. We try in various ways to lay the foundation of
faith, hoping that our children will acknowledge, accept and choose
to build on this foundation. Some try to accomplish this more through
a form of indoctrination. Some think they have succeeded when their
child prays a “sinner's prayer.” Others try to pass on faith
through their life, sharing with their children the stories of
Scripture as well as the stories of their own journey of faith.
Unfortunately,
sometimes (often?) our dreams and hopes for our children are not
realized. Sometimes they are not realized in small ways. Other times
the gap between reality and our dreams can be quite large. At this
point in my life, I face a large gap in regard to my hopes for my
teenage daughter. She has made it clear to her mother and I that she
does not consider herself to be a Christian. She acknowledges the
existence of God but believes that he either doesn't care about
people or that he doesn't demonstrate it very well. These are hard
words to hear from one's own child. Even harder to hear are her
struggles with how to live consistently with her current beliefs. Her
parents work with a particular Christian ministry and everyone in our
home church knows this. She recognizes that it might be awkward for
her parents if she expresses her doubts and disbelief around others
from our church. She doesn't want to create problems for us, but her
efforts to avoid this leave her feeling like she lacks integrity. We
continue to insist that she accompany us to worship on Sunday because
we believe it is true and important, but this places her in the
difficult position of feeling like a hypocrite.
Her
mother and I have both had conversations with her about this. We have
not sought to convince her of the correctness or truth of the Gospel.
She knows the stories and the Gospel message well enough. She's been
in Christian schools, churches and circles all her life. She doesn't
need more indoctrination. She needs someone who will accept and
affirm her as she is now, where she is now. Her mother and I are
trying very hard to give her this. Now that we are more aware of her
feeling of being a hypocrite, we have expressed to her that she
should freely acknowledge her current beliefs and doubts and
questions, even in the church community. We are capable of dealing
with the questions and even possible rejection that may arise as a
result. We would rather our daughter be sincere about where she's at
then place her in a duplicitous position just so we can present a
shining example of Christian family. We hope we have communicated
clearly to her that in our family there is freedom to question,
doubt, even disbelief and still find acceptance and love.
I
often feel frustrated by the posts I see on Facebook of various
Christian families we know. I am not accusing any of them of lying,
because I don't know the internal lives of their families well
enough. But so many posts I read seem to present the particular
family in the best possible light, as paragons of Christian virtue.
Maybe they are. However, I think that within Christian subculture,
particularly evangelical subculture, we create intentionally or
unintentionally the pressure to present ourselves as better than we
really are. We feel subtle or even overt pressure to have the perfect
Christian family with children who love nothing more than to get up
in front of the church and sing “Jesus loves me.” Thank God for
those whose children really do enjoy that. Mine would die of
mortification at the thought—and would be hypocritical to boot.
Sometimes I wish I had one of these ideal Christian families. Then I
realize that I'd rather have a family where we can struggle openly
and honestly with our doubts, questions and fears. We don't have to
have all the right answers. We don't have to have all our ducks in a
row. I hope that our family can be a place where grace and love
prevail.
As I
consider where my daughter is at right now, I also struggle with
feelings of failure. Where did I as her father go wrong? What should
I have done differently to insure that she would grow up to
wholeheartedly embrace the faith I try to live by? I can look at the
journey of our life and wonder how things might have been different
if we had made choice B instead of choice A. I've spent a lot of time
in the past few months feeling like a failure, for this and other
reasons. It's not a pleasant place to be. I don't claim that I have
not made mistakes in parenting. My decisions have not always been
ideal, but I don't live in an ideal world. In my world we do our best
to decide and live wisely, but we make mistakes and fail and learn
and, hopefully, grow in the process. I still beat myself up at times
over my failures and their impact on my daughter, my son and my wife.
But I'm learning to accept God's grace to me as well and to trust
that he is able to work through all these choices, through my failure
and my brokenness and the impact this has had on others in my life.
Some how out of all of this I hope and trust that he can make
beautiful things, that he can accomplish good in my life and the
lives of my family. And I keep hoping and believing and trusting that
he is not yet done with my daughter. Her journey has only begun and I
intend to keep walking alongside her wherever it leads.
Thanks for this post, Andy. We'll be praying for her. If you're ever in town, bring her over to our little Quaker church. It's really the epitome of a Christ-centered group that accepts everyone right where they're at - doubts and all!
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