A Gentle Reminder

We’ve all heard of the “terrible twos” but any parent who’s survived them will tell you it’s nothing compared to the “threenager” phase. Parenting a three-year-old is significantly more challenging than parenting a two-year-old, and anyone who says otherwise is lying. (If you’re reading this and your child has yet to reach the precious age of three, consider this your fair warning. I’m sorry you had to hear it this way, but when the day comes, you’ll be grateful you didn’t waltz into the next season blissfully unaware. Godspeed and God bless.)

My children are eleven and eight now, but memories of their “threenager” years trigger my post-traumatic stress. Those were the days I succumbed to being kicked, spit on, shoved, screamed at, clawed, ignored, and disobeyed. I had a lot of doors slammed in my face. I clocked many hours in the hallway outside my child’s door, knees pulled to my chest, a glass of wine in my hand, and tears in my eyes. I was convinced I was failing as a mother. (Something tells me I’ll experience a bit of deja vu when my kids are teenagers, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.) I wish I could go back in time and wrap my arms around my younger, inexperienced self. With the utmost kindness, I would say, “Be gentle with yourself. You’re doing the best you can.”

I remember one particular week with my son, Justice, that left me feeling utterly powerless. His defiance and disrespect for me had gotten out of control, and he had grown such that I could no longer physically restrain him when he acted out. I rarely matched his anger with gentleness. My frustration would get the better of me and I’d raise my voice and grab his little shoulders with a vice-like grip, desperate to make myself heard. I issued consequence after consequence. Nothing got through to him. (I deeply regret the way I responded to Justice in those days. I had yet to learn the power of a gentle word.)

Seeing I was at my wit’s end, my husband swooped in with a completely different approach. “Let me talk to him, man to man,” he suggested. I watched, doubtful, as Zach grabbed an egg from the refrigerator and led Justice gently by the hand out of the house. “We’re gonna take a walk. We’ll be back in a little while,” he explained on their way out the door. I peeked curiously through the window as my boys paused in the driveway. Zach was instructing Justice how to carefully hold the egg before he passed it into his toddler-sized hands. Then they marched off, side by side.

Sometime later I heard the kitchen door open. Before I could ask where they’d been or what they talked about, Justice came up to me with tears in his eyes and said, “Mom, I will be more gentle with your heart from now on. It’s fragile and I don’t want to break it anymore.” He gave me the sweetest hug and headed to the playroom to greet his sister. I stared at my husband, bewildered. This was the first time Justice had shown remorse for his behavior toward me. “How did you do that?” I asked with admiration. Zach smiled and proceeded to tell me how he thought Justice was more of a visual learner, so he used the egg as a way to illustrate how fragile relationships are. Mean words, aggressive behavior, spiteful disobedience, and physical abuse can crack or even break the hearts of those we love. After showing Justice how to hold the egg gently, he’d walked with him all around our neighborhood, maneuvering around landscapes, over curbs, and crossing streets. Each obstacle represented a conflict that Justice and I would have, and Justice had to choose whether to remain gentle with my heart so as not to break it, or let his anger handle my heart and cause it to fracture. When Justice got frustrated his grip on the egg would tighten, and the temptation to throw the egg mounted. In those moments, Zach would gently remind him how fragile and precious that egg was. Justice would look down at the egg with which he’d been entrusted, take deep breaths, and straighten his posture. It turns out gentleness is an effective safeguard, (for eggs and hearts).

This creative lesson taught by my heroic husband saved my sanity. I can’t say Justice and I never went at it again, but I will tell you Justice never laid a hand on me after that day. He was tempted, many times, but he’d stop himself and remember the egg. He’d choose gentleness, and handle my heart with great care. Without the threat of assault, my response to his anger lost its intensity. I found myself choosing gentleness too. Instead of reacting to his behavior, I responded to his feelings. I sought his heart and offered empathy. Our conflicts began to de-escalate before they got too far off the ground. We were no longer using our words or hands as weapons. Grace, kindness, and forgiveness were utilized as successful consequences. Oh, the power of gentleness.

Anne Frank, a German-born Jewish girl who famously kept a diary from her hiding place during the Nazi invasion, once wrote, “In the long run, the sharpest weapon of all is a kind and gentle spirit.” I can’t begin to imagine the kind of persecution Anne Frank endured during the war. To even pen those words would require the utmost self-control. If I launched a counter-assault of shrill consequences whenever my three-year-old attacked me with hurtful words and frustrated shoves, how would I possibly stand up to legitimate persecution with a “gentle spirit”? Yet to respond to hate with gentleness is exactly what we are called to do.

1 Peter 3:13-17 says, “Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. ‘Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened.’ But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. For it is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.”

It’s awfully hard for a conflict to gain traction if one side remains calm and respectful. Parents like me who’ve learned the hard way know this full well. When I resist the urge to stoop to my child’s level by matching shouting with shouting, immaturity with immaturity, the conflict diffuses quickly and repentance shows its face faster. Does staying respectful and gentle mean I’ll never feel the sting of venomous words? Of course not. Just last week my son screamed, “I hate you!” from his perch on the stairs before running to his room and slamming the door. I stayed calm and waited for him to decompress before I approached him. I knocked on his door and quietly sat beside him on his bed. I gently reminded him I deserved his respect, and that no matter what he said or did, my love for him would never change. I watched Justice’s anger melt away. My conscience was clear, and my tender heart forgave and forgot when the apology came. Gentleness wields power, the power to mend, heal and convict even the hardest of hearts.

2 Timothy 2:25-26 says, “Opponents must be gently instructed, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, and they they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will.” There’s no manual for parenting, but if there was this verse would be in it. The word “opponents” here would refer to our kids. Our kids oppose us left and right. I still remember the first time my beautiful baby girl, my firstborn, defied me. She hadn’t even learned to walk yet but she understood the word “No” and one day she made a conscious choice to ignore it. Her little hand hovered over the tv remote control as I warned her from across the room. “Providence Joy, do NOT touch that.” A sly grin crept up the corners of her mouth, revealing three tiny teeth. That was the day I realized my precious child had a natural tendency to sin; she was just as susceptible to the devil’s schemes as I was. As a parent, I have a choice to assert my authority aggressively or gently. The Bible tells me I have more hope of success with a gentle approach. Why is this? Why are soft, careful, intentional words more effective to my opposition than bold, loud, heated words? Why is God more likely to lead my children to repentance when I use gentle instruction?

Well, I think about the way God instructs me. He doesn’t rain down fire and brimstone when I disobey. He doesn’t dole out consequences like bitter candy. “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities,” (Psalm 103:8-10). When I oppose Him (and I do, all the time), He responds with gentle correction. Jesus described Himself as “gentle and humble in heart,” (Matthew 11:29). His gentleness overpowers my sinful heart and relieves me of its heavy burden. I am so grateful the God I follow offers me an easy yoke. The best way to teach my children the gentleness of God is to offer them the same.

I think of all the times Jesus was persecuted during His time on earth. He didn’t lose His cool but He gently admonished His attackers. He trusted God to convict their hearts and lead them to repentance. We are told to “be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace,” (Ephesians 4:2-3). No one did this better than Jesus, and in doing so, He set an example for us.

May we never underestimate the power of a gentle word. As we navigate conflicts may we be mindful of the precious cargo we carry in our hands. When we are tempted to react rather than respond, let’s remember that relationships and the hearts they embody are fragile. Tenderness is key to their protection. If this is an area of struggle for you, let me assure you it is for me too. I have a short fuse and a prideful spirit more days than not. Let’s trade our sinful hearts in today, the ones that are prone to overreact, yell and punish before offering empathy and gentle instruction. Let’s shrug off the weight of our pride and instead shoulder an easy yoke, offered to us by a gentle and humble-hearted God. Let’s consider this a gentle reminder to be gentle with ourselves because we are doing the best we can.

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Philippians 4:5