This Wild Ride

If you really  must know what life is like in a large family, I'm here to spill the beans.  It's not all glee and giggles, but it's also not always messes and noise, either.

When I decided to have a large family (and my husband, surprisingly agreed), what I signed up for and what I received, was much more than I expected.  I was picturing a serene, homey, "Little Women" sort of family - my children adoringly crowded around me in front of the fireplace on a cold winter's day as I read classical literature.  Instead, today as I read a chapter of a biography to my older kids, I was interrupted a minimum of 32 times by the following:

"Mo----ommmmmm!  I'm done!!!!" (yelled from the bathroom, by my 3 year old.)

"Can we have a snack????  Mom, can we have a snack?  Mom, I'm hungry!!! Can we have a snack!?"

"Mom-meeeee!  She took my toy!!!"

Then there was the very bad, very horrible smell coming from the vicinity of the toddler...

Then some spilled water, another bathroom break, the breaking up of the younger siblings' squabble and.. finally, we were done a chapter!

Speaking of interruptions at inconvenient times, I've often wondered how many diaper changes has our family has gone through over the past 12 years.  Given that there has NEVER been a period of time with no diapers, and that we have had significant stretches of time with 2 children in diapers, I am guesstimating that we have gone through at least 30,660 diapers!!!  (Before you freak out about how our family has single-handedly filled up the space of a small-town's landfill, I have tried to be kind to the environment and have used a mix of both cloth and disposable diapers.) 

Besides the thousands of diapers, there are the immense mountains of laundry, the gigantic grocery bills, the endless crumbs on the floor and the fight for the use of the bathroom that occurs on a daily basis.  Yes, having a large family is expensive - but I will argue that it is not so much in a monetary sense, but in the areas of time, emotions, commitment and responsibility.

These are the areas which I didn't envision in young motherhood.  When we had our fourth baby - who was content and sweet, and hardly any trouble at all, I was quick to sign up for more!  Suddenly (I think it was about 2 years ago), we had 5 kids, I was 7 months pregnant, getting ready to move into a VERY unfinished home and our 1 year old was the most mischievous trouble-maker I had ever seen!  I was trying so hard to keep in a state of calm.  I counted my blessings continually.  I closed my eyes to the mess around me.  Most of all, I just tried to survive!

While many of you are probably ready to write me off as insane, I do have a point to make.   Raising young children (and raising many young children) is a lot of work.  However, on the plus side, my organizational skills have grown by leaps and bounds!  I have the ability to multi-task in the worst of situations - chaos and screaming can be all around me, and I can still answer the phone, stir the pot of stew and hold the baby on my hip; all at the same time (while giving my children a glare that invokes their silence).

Besides some fantastic skills, my children are an endless source of comedy, companionship and cuddles.  As they grow and their personalities become more pronounced, I am astounded at their love and care and how they are so different from each other and from me!  Six children means that I have way more opportunities to be proud of my family; having so many kids to watch excel in different areas of life!

Large families are bustling families - and there is always someone around to talk to, offer a helping hand or just keep you company.  Holidays like Christmas are full of joy and happiness and the house is brimming over with excitement.

If I were to think more industriously about my large family, just consider of all the little workers I have in my home.  (Sweat shop, anyone?)  We can make up our own sports team in a church tournament or even play music together and start a traveling family band - more like a circus, really!  Okay... I'm getting a little ridiculous now!

In the end, I can conclude wholeheartedly that raising a large family and being in a full house is hard.  Sometimes really hard.  You have many opportunities to lose your temper and feel selfish.  Sometimes you just want to be alone, and there is a little person who needs you - again!  Sometimes my husband and I wonder, that with all the emotional output required for our children, how we will ever have time and energy for each other.

Yet it is in the challenge that I am stretched, and my patience increases, and I grow.  I invest, and the returns will come back to me for generations.  Too soon, I will be visiting my children's homes, allowing them to cook for me and serve me.  Their lives will become wound up with the demands of young families and I will be winding down; basking in the warmth of grand-babies.

Raising a (large) family is truly like a wild ride in an amusement park.  You basically climb in, buckle up and hang on for dear life.  Sometimes you feel overwhelmed and you think you're gonna barf - other times, you are taking it all in, eyes wide open, experiencing the many thrills of child-rearing. 

Inspired By "Captain America"!!!

There are two sides to a super-hero story.

First there are those who yearn to be saved by that knight in shining armor or the handsome, muscly man in red or yellow or blue tights, namely the common folk who are oppressed or in danger.  Then there are those who secretly wish to be that hero; the underdog who came out of nowhere, who was bestowed a super-human gift of strength (or some other extraordinary ability) and becomes the awe and inspiration of the downtrodden. 

My hubby and I went to the cheap theater and saw Captain America last night.  Now before you laugh and dismiss my blog posting because you think that movie was "so lame" or predictable, I must say with all honesty that I quite enjoyed the movie and it sparked a deeper message within my heart, beyond the money-making, mindless entertainment than I expect the producers intended.

Right off the bat, you are reluctantly drawn into the story of the good-hearted yet scrawny young man named Stephen, who wishes, more than anything, to become enlisted in the army during WWII.  He's so awkward, nerdy and dejected, in fact, that I found myself impatient for the part of the movie where they change him into something great;  transforming his body into that of a full-grown, good-looking man so I wouldn't have to wince at his puny stature and all-around pathetic-ness.

I won't get too much into the story, but based on Stephen's character, not his physical stature, he is finally accepted into the army.  The night before the procedure, the scientist (who pulled the strings to get Stephen accepted) explains that he has chosen him to be transformed into the super-soldier because what matters most is Stephen's heart.  Stephen understands what it is like to be weak, and will not forget it.  His objective is not power and control, but compassion for those bullied by the Nazis.

The next morning, Stephen is taken to a top-secret laboratory, strapped into a machine with tubes and wires and all sorts of fantastical gadgets, and there is success:  In walked a shrimp - out walks an over-sized Calvin-Klein jeans model (not like the waifs that are favored these days, but a manly-looking man with a six pack and bulging biceps). Stephen's new-found strength is immediately put to the test with twists and turns of conspiracy (as can be expected) that cause this honest, genuinely caring American boy to transform into a hero, overnight!

I won't get any further into the story, as I wouldn't want to give too much away, should you decide to see the movie for yourself.  So what is it about this Hollywood blockbuster that captured my imagination and heart, you ask?  Well, if I admit it, I've always wanted to be one of the heroes.  I grew up with a compassion for the losers, nerds, fat kids, underdogs - you name it.  In elementary school, I was was voted more than one year as "Student of the Class", namely for my popularity - not because I dressed the best or had money or was the coolest - but because I continually expressed care and extended friendship to all my fellow classmates.  Anyway, I'm not saying this to get brownie points or anything - but I think perhaps the fact that I have experienced hurt in my past has caused me to turn around and have a passion to help those who are hurting.  I hate to see people feel left out or alone.

Super-hero Me!

That being said, I'm no super-hero.  I get grumpy and selfish with the best of them and when it comes down to it, I don't know if I am willing to pay the price of laying down my life for others!  So I'm left at a quandary.  Apart from being bit by a radioactive-spider or being selected by a mad-scientist to be magically transformed, I doubt I'll ever be able to attain the heights of wonder-woman on my own.

This is what captivated me about the movie, Captain America.  It was pointed out, more than once, that Stephen was weak and pathetic.  Yet it was his weakness that made him a candidate for super-human strength.  It was his scrawny little arms and his asthma-weakened body that prepared him to operate in the capacity of America's hero.

The Bible talks about a surprisingly similar principle when it comes to accomplishing great things for God.  1 Corinthians 1:27 tells us:

But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; 

 It seems that the best place for Christ's power to be displayed is through my weakness.  (See 2 Cor. 13:9)  When you have a chance to see the oppressed, weak and weary rise up to do something incredible, it brings much glory to God.  Then you have witnessed a miracle - the miracle of God's power at work, and His strength shining through human frailty.

Furthermore, those who lack great abilities; intelligence, strength, prowess and even popularity - possess a humility when given the opportunity to succeed.  This sort of person KNOWS that they have accomplished something beyond their means, having risen above their circumstances and they are unassuming enough to not take the credit.  The best sort of hero is a humble one, not allowing arrogance to defile their pursuits. 

-but the people who know their God shall be strong, and carry out great exploits.  (Daniel 11:32)

...you don't know what you got till it's gone...

I've lost my Bible.

It's not that I don't have other ones - I even carry the Word on my phone, and it's just a click of the mouse away on the computer - but I've lost MY Bible.  The one that is written on, highlighted and marked; with pages bent and many of them tattered and torn by busy little people's hands.  This is the book that I've dropped my precious tears onto... found clarity, peace, hope, light when no one else could speak to my pain.

I haven't read it as much as I should.  I haven't drank in the words - God's poetry - nearly as often as I should.  I already miss the caress of the love-story, written with me in mind.  I miss the fatherly, heart-felt discipline that it spoke to me whenever I was floundering.

How often to we overlook the precious?  How often do we miss the treasure, sitting right in front of our eyes?

I'm sobered with the reality of that which I have taken for granted.  Blessings are the things which we acknowledge gratefully - our eyes wide open with clear vision; not clouded by the mundane.  Whether it is our children, family, homes, the sunshine and the trees - or, a favorite book - count each blessing!

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got till it's gone 

-Joni Mitchell

Trying, Failing, and Needing Grace

They know how to push my buttons.

What starts as a minor sense of disgruntlement, quickly shifts to intensely frustrated, reactive behavior.

And sometimes I wonder how on earth someone so much younger, less wise, and so small - can manage to control me so easily!

So I walk away from another fruitless, ineffective lecture; flustered and worn down - and I retreat, hiding in my room; face-down on the bed, begging God to help me, change me...

I can't do this "mothering" thing.  I don't say the right things and I am overcome by my selfishness and pride when I should be the one teaching and leading and guiding my kids into maturity.

I'm immature and I overreact.  I feel like I need to have a tantrum! and really, I just need to disperse of the yucky, sinful, me-focused person that wants to rule my emotions and behavior.

On Sunday, it was explained that the purpose of Christianity is primarily 'dying to self'.  The whole point of serving Jesus, is not that we get whatever we want, and that we get to be immune from this mucked up, sin-diseased world, but we are now fully His (our lives belong to Him) by a choice to believe and SURRENDER.

I was reading 1 John 2, and was drawn to verses 3-5 which say:  

Now by this we know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments.  He who says, "I know Him," and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.  But whoever keeps His word, truly the love of God is perfected in him. By this we know that we are in Him.

Often, I've read this passage and told myself: I must not love Jesus enough... I'm so far from being like Him and His character just isn't evident in my life!  This seems even more obvious when I think of how often I lack grace in my reaction to my kids and my spouse.

So I press into the idea that I MUST become more obedient. That's the ticket, isn't it?  Even non-believers can agree that Jesus taught principles for living that can benefit all of mankind.  Selflessness, sacrifice, giving to those in need, and laying down my life... if I could just follow all of the guidelines, then I would be better!

This just isn't how it works, though.  What I saw in these couple of verses was not an accusation and demand for more obedience.  What I am dealing with isn't an obedience issue!  In actuality, my issue is concerning love. 

If the love of God was truly within me, then I would treat others respectfully, be patient and kind and I would raise my kids with an abundance of grace.  When I attempt to "do" all the right things, and tell myself to act a certain way, to "obey" all the New Testament guidelines, I am, as they say "putting the cart before the horse".

Love is what must dictate my actions.

This leaves me exposed, naked and helplessly human - for I know that I simply can not do this (be a mother, friend, lover) by stubbornness, will and determination.  I am parched soil, desperately yearning for the gift of God's love and grace to be poured out upon me.

As I cried out my frustration this morning, instead of asking God to change my children and stop them from being "brats", I asked God to just LOVE me.  It's me who needs a revolution.  I'm the problem!  I'm insecure - and out of my brokenness, I lash out at others when I should be leaking out the love and grace that was freely given to me through the cross.

Additionally, I turned to gratitude.  Part of knowing His love is seeing the blessing that surrounds me.  It's seeing those loud, healthy, lively children with their keen minds and quick wit and even when I feel at the end of my rope, they are still a blessing.  By gratitude, I begin to see God clearly, seeing all that He Is and has given to me, and I will be settled and made secure in His love.

The biggest issue of all, is my belief in His love. 

This song "The Love Of God" played by Ascend The Hill, seems to encapsulate the message I'm wrestling with today.  Sometimes we just need to steep ourselves in the very idea of God's love, accepting it and allowing it to wash over our worn-out emotions.   I recommend that you close your eyes, listen, and allow the words to penetrate your heart... that you might glimpse and retain the reality of God's love for you.


"As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love." (Jesus, John 15:9)

 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)

...that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love,  may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height--  to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Eph. 3:17-19)

Do I, and will I believe?

Desperately driven by my desire to change, I must believe.  It's my only hope!

Goodbye to Summer?

It's gloomy and dark outside.  Some would say "Welcome!" to the cooler, fall-like weather, but I am dissapointed as summer's kiss seems to have just tickled my skin for a moment before the clouds once again took over the sky.

I haven't the heart to confine my kids to the dining-room table for schoolwork, and binders lay scattered about, books sit unopened, undone, unread and indoors is uncommonly quiet and still.

They chatter and squeal outside, building blanket forts in the still-soft grass, under the trees.  For a moment, there is a bustling and tumbling indoors, and cheeks are pink and cool (is it really the last day of August?) and I offer them a left-over bag of chips to take to their castle in the yard.

A sweet daughter hands me a miniature bouquet of tiny white flowers; pretty yet with an unpleasant scent, and I thank her for her generosity as she bounds away to play - carefree and content.

In my heart, I wish that I could have forever summer... the endless non-routine playtime, basking in sunshine, laziness and memory-making moments with my family.   Each day is carelessly packed with discovery, adventure and a grateful appreciation for the world around us.

However, part of me longs, in quiet expectation, for the sense of accomplishment and contentment that fall will bring.  As the air turns crisp like the leaves on the trees, and they fall crunchy and mulchy onto the sidewalk, we will turn our hearts to home; family times on the couch, reading by the fire, snuggling with hot cocoa (and perhaps a pumpkin spice latte!).

Seasons come and go - summer is a gentle reminder to relax, let go, "don't worry, be happy" while autumn seeps an urgency and prods us to regain our footing; become productive and re-enter the normal hustle and bustle of society's schedule.

I won't let myself forget the warm, lazy days.  I will engrave them upon my memory, revisiting the moments with urgency when winter's cold grip comes to take over and threaten me.  Even now, I remember the frost, the snow, the icicles hanging from the eves - the bone-chilling cold; the hibernation never-want-to-leave-home feeling that takes over...   I'll close my eyes tight and find the sights and sounds of summer within - those moments that etched a wondrous tranquility and fulfillment in my soul.

The Summer Sun Shone Round Me

THE summer sun shone round me,
The folded valley lay
In a stream of sun and odour,
That sultry summer day.

The tall trees stood in the sunlight
As still as still could be,
But the deep grass sighed and rustled
And bowed and beckoned me.

The deep grass moved and whispered
And bowed and brushed my face.
It whispered in the sunshine:
"The winter comes apace."
Robert Louis Stevenson

Over-Protective Parenting

When my first baby was born, nearly 12 years ago, I was an uncommonly calm and relaxed mother.  Certainly, I did my duty and took prenatal vitamins faithfully, read all the important baby books, took my newborn to her routine check-ups and vaccinated her and I paid close attention to all the developmental milestones.  Frankly, I've strayed far off the path of "normal" and now my parenting looks a far cry from what it did in it's early years - not that I neglect my children in any way, but I'm not as "protective" and cautious as I once was.

Even so, I never took protectiveness to the extreme.  I've know such parents, who ascribe to rigid schedules of feedings, bathing and educational stimulation.  They sterilize, organize and continually verbalize (in at least 2 languages) in order to guarantee their child's healthy, successful development and growth.   This is the parent who painstakingly follows his/her child around with disinfectant and antibacterial spray, guarding precious little Suzie or Johnny from germs, dirt and other harmful objects.  If a toy drops from the baby's hand onto the floor, it is quickly whisked away, to be dutifully sterilized before being returned to the toy shelf.  To be honest, I became so lax that my baby's soother could be on the floor for a day or two and I'd have no problem popping it into their mouth!  (Hey, don't be shocked... doesn't that promote their natural immunity?)

As little Suzie grows up, it becomes apparent that she is the victim of an over-protective parent.  Never allowed to play outside alone, never allowed to talk to the mailman, grocery store clerk or even the zit-faced teen at the McDonald's counter, Suzie is sheltered and cloistered away from the "big, bad, scary world".  This is the child who must wear full-body protective gear when bicycling or riding on his scooter.  When all the other boys are wearing cut-off jeans and just their helmets as they bike up and down the street on a hot, sunny day, poor Johnny has elbow pads, knee pads, shin guards, and a full-face helmet.  Oh... and Mom is on the porch with her eagle eyes to keep watch for bad guys who might show up in the neighborhood.  And when Johnny stops by the house, she jumps up, wipes his nose with a tissue that she pulls out of her pocket and asks:  "Are you sure you're not over-exerting yourself, sweetheart?"

Sure, as parents, we desire to shield our kids from harm.  In fact, on a daily basis I make choices to safeguard my kids and to prevent them from suffering the consequences of inappropriate situations.  Yet there came a time when I had to "let go" a little, and show some trust and confidence in my kids.  I even have learned to let my kids make the occasional mistake... so they can then learn from the consequences.  I let my toddler run around with wobbly exuberance even though I know he will occasionally fall and end up with a few bumps and bruises.  I even let him climb onto things,  to a certain degree, knowing that when he gets himself into a position that is "scary" for him - like on top of our big, king-sized bed, he'll have to ask for help to get down, and perhaps learn his limitations!

I've even found that homeschooling brings it's own challenges regarding protectiveness, in that I decide how to grade and score my children's work.  For a while, I felt badly about marking an "X" on my children's work, as if it would damage their emotional well-being... Over time, I've learned that making mistakes is a part of life, and recognizing that you have done wrong is the first step in improvement!  My kids have to own up to their behavior, and if they have incomplete work, I don't shield them from it - but I try to patiently guide them to amend their work so they can learn and better themselves.

Extreme cases of over-protectiveness result in children who never fully mature.  These are the kids (adults, actually) whose parents bail them out, time and time again, despite their age and capability to care for themselves. I'm talking about an able-bodied human being who lives with his parents and can't hold down a steady job; sleeps-in every day and stays up late, playing video games - and I would argue that this is not entirely his fault.  Somehow, this behavior has been continually enabled and supported.  This is an extreme case, of course, and obviously is unhealthy for both the parent and the grown-up child.  The problem is, it's not for lack of love that an adult turns out this way.  In most cases, the mother (and sometimes father) are exceptionally loving towards their child.  In fact, they care SO MUCH that they just don't want anything bad to happen to their child.  They don't want them to know the hurts and pains of reality - they don't want them to know humiliation, rejection or for their child to experience the pain of lack.  (Like lacking designer jeans..., or the latest video game... or 'spending money' for pizza and beer...)  If you argued with this parent and told them that "if you really loved your child, you wouldn't enable them.." it may take a while for this concept to actually sink in because they feel they have done nothing but love their child!

I think we can all agree that healthy parenting involves a certain measure of restraint when it comes to allowing our children to experience the consequences of their behavior.  Consequences make excellent teachers.  As parents, we ought to allow our children to learn valuable lessons from their actions.

Something I realized recently was how my idea of God really doesn't line up with this simple parenting principle.  I think we often expect and desire for God to act like an over-protective parent.  We want Him to shield us from EVERY painful consequence, no matter how responsible we are for our individual actions.  We blame Him when things don't go the way we want, even though the results line up with our behavior.  We get mad or become hard-hearted, thinking that God doesn't really love us, and that He's actually a cold-hearted monster in the sky for allowing hardship into our lives.  Now, I'm not trying to address tragedy and the horrible atrocities that this sinful world contains.  So don't get the idea that I'm saying "God wanted your brother to die in a car accident so you could learn a lesson" or something ridiculous like that.   I'm talking more along the lines of dealing with your personal finances, or troubles with relationships or even personal issues which you have allowed to slide over time, and now you're feeling like you've been dealt an unfair hand in life.  Often we look up at God with accusation and think: "Why don't you change this problem!?"  We question the struggle, and don't see the lesson and opportunity for development that is knocking at our door.

My thought is this:  If God made our lives easy and perfect (which couldn't happen anyway due to our imperfections..) then how would we ever learn, grow, develop and mature?  Sure, there are times when I feel overwhelmed and frustrated and hurt.  But if God were to treat me in the manner of an overprotective parent, cushioning me in a bubble of cotton fluff to prevent me from ever being poked, stretched, challenged or hurt - who would I become?  I'd be that spoiled, over-grown child; bloated with a sense of entitlement and selfishness.

Realistically, I believe that God does shelter us from our actions a lot more than we could ever think or comprehend.  Having children, I know for certain that my kids really do use up the work-hours of their guardian angels... considering how many almost-poked-out-eyes and should-have-been-broken bones we've encountered as a family.  Even more so, I'm certain that God has prevented some horrible situations in my life.  I sense His leading and protection on a continual basis and I know that what I've received is far better than I deserve! 

The thought I really wanted to express, was the idea of God as a parent.  Whatever it is that you expect from God, and whatever attributes you have ascribed to Him, must be filtered through the idea of a wise, loving, perfect parent who desires to see us mature and grow and develop.  I believe it hurts him when He sees us make mistakes - in the same way that I hurt when my children make poor choices.  That doesn't mean I stop them from all of their mistakes, though.  I understand the importance of growth by accountability.  I hold my kids accountable when appropriate, and bail them out when appropriate.  It may seem a bit lame, but there is plenty of truth in the saying: No pain, no gain!  Like it or not, there are times in my life where I will be challenged - it doesn't mean God doesn't like me and isn't watching out for me; in fact it actually is a sign that He LOVES me and is cheering me on, as I journey towards maturity.

Home Alone: A Sign of Growing Up

Don't leave the house.
Don't answer the phone.  (Unless you recognize the caller id...)
Don't turn on the stove or oven.
Stay out of the cupboards.
Don't give your little brother a bath.
Don't go on the internet.
Don't turn on the fireplace.
Don't fight!
Don't make a mess.  (Or you will most certainly clean it up.)
Don't do any experiments with electrical appliances, water, fire, the freezer, food, paint, scissors, yourself or (most especially) your siblings while I am gone!

Do be good.
Be quiet.
And BE RESPONSIBLE! 

This is just a sample of the tangent of concerns I race through before leaving one of my older kids in charge of things when I have to step out for a quick errand.  I've embarked upon a stage of new freedoms, as my oldest kids cruise into further maturity and the ability to babysit.  Yet there are so many considerations and areas of constraint which I need to impress upon my kids, especially considering the fact that they are not just responsible for themselves, but are helping to care for their younger siblings as well, including a very energetic, explorative toddler.  That is why the majority of times I leave the toddler in one of my older children's care, it is during one of his naps so the likelihood of mishap is greatly reduced.

At some point in time, my children will grow in wisdom, and instead of following a precise, clearly defined, over-explanatory set of rules and regulations, they instead will be governed by the knowledge they possess and the reasoning that comes from internalizing a situation and thinking with their hearts.  Isn't that what maturity is about?  We say that a person is mature if they can think before they speak, make sound decisions and not act based on their emotions and just "living for the moment".  A mature person has the ability to foresee the results and future consequences of their actions.  (Unfortunately our society is populated by a rather large number of immature adults, judging from this definition.)

So, until my oldest children posses a great deal more maturity, I will continue to spell out with extreme clarity, the "Do's" and "Don'ts" of being left home alone.  The last thing I want to come home to is some sort of odd science experiment gone wrong, with the firemen at my doorstep, blue smoke pluming out the doors and windows, half-naked children crying on the grass  (because who doesn't love to run around the house in your underwear?) and my eldest son, Ethan, saying "I know I'm in big trouble, but that was really COOL!"
No thank you.  I'll do my best to prevent that sort of unfortunate event.

This got me thinking about our growth as believers.  In a state of immaturity, we long for rules and regulations, and think "If I can just follow this teaching, that prayer or this new revelation, my Christian walk will be dandy!" However, the fact is, what matters the most is what is going on inside of our hearts.  The more we truly know the Lord, the more it becomes fixed in our hearts how He would like us to act.  We've all seen or heard of stories where the "book knowledge" or "head knowledge" person goes up against the "life-experience" person, and just can't compete with the depth of wisdom that comes from living in the real world.  How much more so with our Christian walk?  We will become the type of people whom God wants to use and work through, not when we have read enough material and attained a Bible College degree, but when we have proven ourselves to be committed to a deep relationship with Him.

My daughter would like to take a babysitter's course so that she can be a "certified sitter" but does that really mean that she will be fully equipped to handle whatever situation that arises?  Of course not!  It takes experience and maturity to successfully and safely care for children for extended periods of time, and even I've goofed up every now and then!  ....Like the time my first born was playing with a penny when she was a toddler, and I thought: "What's the big deal?  She wouldn't put it in her mouth..."  Moments later, she was gagging and choking, and ended up swallowing the penny.  (I felt like a pretty rotten mother at that point!)  Then there is the time that this same child was downstairs "helping" me do laundry.  She took an empty box of powdered detergent, lifted it upside-down to peer into the "empty" bottom of the box and several granules of leftover soap powder fell directly into her eyes.  Oh the screaming!!!  ...and the terror that I felt as I frantically called my husband, wondering what to do.  From work, he called Poison Control on his other line and instructed me to hold my screaming toddler, face up, and pour water into her eyes for 10 minutes, to rinse them out.  For the first 5 minutes, she was screaming a blood-curdling "Mommmeeeey.... Mommmeeeey!!!" Until eventually, she lost hope in me ceasing this horrible activity, and she began a heart-rending plea for "Daddy...", hoping he might come and save her.  Yes.  That was one of the most horrific parenting moments of my life.  (Just so you know, today her eyes are perfectly fine; so rinsing them and enduring the heartbreaking experience of terrorizing my poor child was worth it.  Mostly.)

While I can't expect perfection from my kids as they grow up and are left home alone more and more, and likely there will be stains on the carpet, broken dishes and magic-marker war paint on the baby's face when left in the care of the older kids, this can't stop me from allowing them to walk this journey to maturity (with a reasonable amount of guidance).  Over time, my rules will become less detailed, and I will simply entrust them to the care for their siblings and the home, and to uphold our family values when they are "in charge".

I think a sign of growing maturity in a Christian is the ability to walk along with less sense of the rules and regulations which "should" govern a believer's life, and instead to have more of a heart-knowledge that beats in tune with the God we love and serve.  The more we love and know Him, the better we can serve Him and do His will.  I can't always be explicit with my children, but if I instruct them and, most importantly, train them to think with their hearts, and perhaps even say to themselves: "Would Mom want me to do this?" then I can expect that, apart from the occasional mistake, my kids will do fine on their own.

The whole WWJD? "What Would Jesus Do?" craze was a great idea, but frankly, I think most people haven't a clue of what Jesus would do.  If you wear the bracelet and then look to it before you make a decision, you might be able to come up with some random scriptures that will help direct you, but if you don't actually KNOW Jesus, and have a relationship with Him, you probably will flounder.  I guess what I'm saying here is, my heart is to see Christians (and myself) holding a deeper understanding of "how to live" not based on words written on a page, but by the grace, love, hope and faith that is stamped upon our hearts.  And that only comes by knowing God, and growing in your relationship with Him.  That takes time and commitment.  It can't be obtained by reading another book or listening to another sermon.  Those things help, but as I've stressed in the past, it's all about relationship.

It may be helpful, as a Christian, to have clear guidelines and signposts, as it were, to govern your daily living.  However, my challenge lies in the idea that to truly live for Christ, you must be transformed from the inside; developing a maturity that comes from a heart in tune with the Savior.
It's all part of growing up.