#35. How Kids Grow to be in Church

Our work in mothering is not going to achieve all that we imagine. Why bother when we don't know which way the ball will bounce? This episode is about the comfort we can count on.

How can these maternal duties be called "light" when they are so weighty in importance and difficulty? 

A listener has asked, "What good things can I fill my time and the kids' time with before starting formal schooling?". This response was recorded while I was out and about (so it sounds a bit raw). It's a start in thinking about why we have trouble filling time with very young children (I propose that it is an oddity of our economic/social/historical context). I meander through some of the key elements to making time at home with preschoolers nourishing for them and you. Plenty more can be said, but one needs to stop recording somewhere!

I mentioned J.R.R. Tolkien's essay, "On Fairy Stories" and George Macdonald's essay on the imagination from "A Dish of Orts". As usual, I reference Charlotte Mason (not nearly enough, since most of what I say is very much an application of her principles).

Perhaps we find motherhood difficult because we haven’t given much thought to building a house? The thing is, we're all building from ruins, salvaging and restoring what we can. We have ideals, but none of us are working with ideal materials. Our splintered posts have meaning.

In this think-aloud chat, we consider how our most basic form of treasure is our attention. And where our treasure is, there our heart will follow. Some thoughts on how we might come to love things we really don't like doing.

Sometimes God's generosity exhausts us. When the good gifts generate more work, we often treat them like a curse. This episode is about recognising the abundance we've had put in our hands so we can get busy doing something with it. It's about how to do a faithful job of handling the abundance (the abundance we often complain about). It's also about what pleases the Lord in those times when all the abundance has gone. At the end of this think-aloud chat are some thought for how churches might open up some options for the mothers who are on their last copper coins.

I mention Jeremiah Burrough's books, "The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment" and "How to Abound". 

Perhaps telling people about Jesus while we're caring for our children isn't as complicated as we make it? Some reflections from a couple of decades (while I clean and repair books).

The great terror of motherhood is that we’d ruin it. This dread causes some mothers to do less: the less we do, the less we can fail. The same dread causes others to grip tighter and work harder: the harder we try the more sure the outcome will be. The painful truth is that both—minimal doing and overdoing—are ruinous to the thing we are trying to preserve.

I could NOT let Christmas come without saying something. But such is the sweltering pace of things around here that I am talking on the run, complete with the creaking of doors, thrum of traffic and stretching of sticky tape. Minus editing and intro and outro. It's a worked example of giving what you've got even though it's far less than your ideal. That's the kind of chat this is. May you and your kids and everyone within orbit of you better know the comforts of King Jesus.

https://mycanonplus.com/tabs/discover/video-series/1167

We don't have to trick kids into obedience. And we mustn't neglect climbing trees.

A life of obedience isn’t a legalistic life. Obedience training is not a constant drill of facts and instruction. It isn’t micromanagement, explicitly teaching every virtue and moral lesson by rote. It’s not that we make obedience fun, like a cheap gimmick to bribe our children into doing what they ought. Obedience is not a bitter pill crushed in a spoonful of honey, or a zucchini blended into a chocolate cake. When we’re pursuing obedience on God’s terms, things are more fun and more interesting, because obedience makes people and things more truly themselves. It gives true freedom and deep pleasure.