[First written in 2017.]
I hardly ever offer advice to strangers, let alone biblical advice, but today I swam into those dangerous waters.
Picture a small waiting room with four chairs against a wall. I grabbed the chair closest to the door, and a lady sat with a two-year-old child at the other end in the corner. My nose stayed in my Bible most of the time, but my ears kept track of the wild child. At times she was relatively calm when the lady found exactly the right distraction to keep her occupied for five minutes, but mostly she was whining, pushing limits, throwing books, prostrating herself on the floor. The lady (bless her heart) tried valiantly to remain calm and sweet, but several times the little girl got her goat.
In a tussle over the car keys, the little girl insisted, “Mine!” and the woman pitched right in, “No, they’re mine!” back and forth a few times. It slipped out probably before she knew it: “You’re…stupid!” It’ll freeze your blood when you hear parents or grandparents say it to their kids. It will pain you until the day you die if you say it.
My heart hurt for the little girl and the lady. Neither was happy. I cringed several times as the older woman told the younger, “You’re just so bad! Why are you so bad?” Then she wrestled her in her lap for a few seconds until the girl squirmed back to the floor, fussing and complaining to get her way.
Finally I decided to intrude (wise? perhaps not!).
“Is she yours?” I asked.
“No! My daughter’s. If she were mine I’d be able to do something about this, but since she’s my granddaughter…” she shrugged.
I commiserated with her, “She looks tired.”
“Yes. Eleven o’clock. Naptime.”
“That makes everything more difficult,” I offered. She agreed.
She tried to distract the girl with some art work on the wall, but the little one sat obstinately on the floor in front of a door. “People will come through that door. You have to move or you’ll get hit.” No response. She didn’t want to move. After an uncomfortable moment of silence while the grandmother attempted to think of a way to move the grumpy child, she murmured, “You’re so…cute.” Pause. “But you’re so bad!”
At this, I girded my loins and prepared for battle–it had to be done.
“Does your daughter believe in the Bible?” I referred to the mother of the child.
“Oh…yeah,” she asserted, as if that were a dumb question.
“Then I hope you don’t mind me asking–and feel free not to answer–but does she spank?”
Apparently, my question translated to something like, “Do you believe in water-boarding your children?” The grandmother immediately and vigorously began shaking her head.
“I don’t believe in violence. Violence begets violence,” she asserted firmly. The little girl was attempting to rip open her grandmother’s shirt at this point.
“I don’t mean violence at all,” I backpedaled. “I just think your daughter might like to read through the Proverbs and see what it says about disciplining children. The Bible tells us to use the rod sometimes.”
She shook her head harder. “No. I don’t believe in that. When a grown person beats on a child–that’s bullying! I believe in love and kindness. Violence begets violence, and kindness begets kindness.”
I tried once more, “I’m not talking about violence, I’m talking about giving your child a consequence to her bad behavior. If you won’t swat her hand, then give her a consequence she doesn’t like.” I told her I visit a jail each week and see men who are learning the hard way about consequences to their actions. “These kids need to understand consequences before they become teenagers.”
Unfortunately, she would have none of it, and the conversation terminated abruptly. I stuck my nose back in my book, and that was that.
I wanted to argue and question and insist. I wanted to reason with her about the Bible. “Do you really believe the Bible is God’s word? Then why don’t you listen to it instead of what you think?” I wanted to reason with her about her behavior. “You say kindness begets kindness, but is it kind to call your granddaughter stupid and bad? Where will that lead?” I wanted to impress upon her the utmost importance of disciplining the child now while there is hope.
The grandmother was actually right in noticing her granddaughter was bad, but that’s not something you tell a child. She was totally incorrect when she said she was stupid. The child was bad, but her parents and grandparents are training her and allowing her to be bad. It’s not the two-year-old’s fault at this point, but one day it will be.
Since she resisted and shut down the conversation, I should direct my attention towards my own life, my own family, my own parenting. Am I training my children in the Lord? Am I speaking with kindness but also disciplining firmly when necessary? May God be merciful to all of us–parents and kids!