Last Monday my wife and youngest son saw Courageous.

It's a relatively low-budget film ($2 million) made by the same Georgia church that produced Facing the Giants and Fireproof. As a piece of cinema, it has its flaws. I thought it was a little too long, and it had the same jumpy, episodic nature that Fireproof had, including some quite funny comedy relief (I was laughing out loud during some of the bits) that seemed, at times, randomly thrown in.

In other words, this won't compare very well to the best that Hollywood can produce, from a cinematic art standpoint.

That being said, I really liked this movie. It deals with a modern societal sickness that generally receives little or no treatment in the arts: that of Fatherlessness. This film contains gut-wrenching scenes of every parent's worse nightmare, heart-splitting regret, and the violent jarring of an apathetic soul into action. It deals straightforwardly with the subject of Christian hypocrisy, and the redemptive power of God working through tragedy.

I highly recommend the movie. It's worth seeing, especially if you are a parent or planning on becoming one someday.

"Gospel is good news, not good advice." I'm not sure who first used that phrase, but it has been sticking with me. (I think I first heard it when John Piper was defending inviting Doug Wilson to a "Desiring God" conference.)

Jared's Gospel Wakefulness, and call to Gospel Centeredness has been sticking with me too. I've been chewing on, meditating on, and trying to figure out how to explain it to others, and more importantly, how to model it.

This morning, while perusing Jared's awesome blog, I watched a Rich Mullins video that he posted. Which led me to another one. In this one, Rich talks about how God has no taste...because he loves you, and that we should be glad about that.



And that got me thinking. Isn't that the good news of the Gospel? We don't measure up, and it's OK, because God's already "knocked out about you", to use Rich's phrase.

Wow.

Now how do I live that? How do I explain that to my children?

Which leads me to my question for you. How do you teach, and by that I mean show, the Gospel as GOOD NEWS (not good advice) to children? Too many "Gospel for children" messages are object lessons that go from the concrete to the abstract. (I have learned not to use objects in my children's sermon unless the object I use represents the object it is, not something else. Kids just don't make the leap, like grown-ups do.)

Is the parable of the two Lost Sons (i.e. the prodigal son) the answer? What story do you tell? Maybe you just tell the story of Christ's crucifixion...but how do you tell a story, or explain to a four year old or a ten year old, what the Gospel really is? Or maybe the key is to show them? How do we do that? Please tell me your thoughts. I really want to learn from you!

Who has suggestions?

Via Justin Taylor:

Robbie Low, writing in Touchstone (June 2003), points to an interesting 1994 study in Switzerland about the connection between the churchgoing habits of fathers and mothers and the effect on their children when they are grown.

Here’s a summary:

In short, if a father does not go to church, no matter how faithful his wife’s devotions, only one child in 50 will become a regular worshipper. If a father does go regularly, regardless of the practice of the mother, between two-thirds and three-quarters of their children will become churchgoers (regular and irregular). If a father goes but irregularly to church, regardless of his wife’s devotion, between a half and two-thirds of their offspring will find themselves coming to church regularly or occasionally.

A non-practicing mother with a regular father will see a minimum of two-thirds of her children ending up at church. In contrast, a non-practicing father with a regular mother will see two-thirds of his children never darken the church door. If his wife is similarly negligent that figure rises to 80 percent!

The results are shocking, but they should not be surprising. They are about as politically incorrect as it is possible to be; but they simply confirm what psychologists, criminologists, educationalists, and traditional Christians know. You cannot buck the biology of the created order. Father’s influence, from the determination of a child’s sex by the implantation of his seed to the funerary rites surrounding his passing, is out of all proportion to his allotted, and severely diminished role, in Western liberal society.

... [W]hen a child begins to move into that period of differentiation from home and engagement with the world “out there,” he (and she) looks increasingly to the father for his role model. Where the father is indifferent, inadequate, or just plain absent, that task of differentiation and engagement is much harder. When children see that church is a “women and children” thing, they will respond accordingly—by not going to church, or going much less.

Curiously, both adult women as well as men will conclude subconsciously that Dad’s absence indicates that going to church is not really a “grown-up” activity. In terms of commitment, a mother’s role may be to encourage and confirm, but it is not primary to her adult offspring’s decision. Mothers’ choices have dramatically less effect upon children than their fathers’, and without him she has little effect on the primary lifestyle choices her offspring make in their religious observances.

Her major influence is not on regular attendance at all but on keeping her irregular children from lapsing altogether. This is, needless to say, a vital work, but even then, without the input of the father (regular or irregular), the proportion of regulars to lapsed goes from 60/40 to 40/60.

And of course what is best for kids is not dad simply attending church regularly, but dad loving and leading 7 days a week in response to the gospel's capture of his heart.

My favorite self-diagnosed Asperger's syndrome having, accordion playing, toast loving, Kurd serving, Christian radio elevating, humorist-slash-provocateur with an important rant:

You're an adult. Get over your parents, for crying out loud.

Seriously.

You got married, that means you have a new family, a new primary relationship. "Oh, but he's still my daddy, and -- " Sure he is. But you remember that whole father "giving you away" part? Yeah, that means he gave you away. Like, as in, "away". Like as in, your not his, anymore.

"But he's still my authority, and -- " No, no he's not. No matter what he says.

"But doesn't the Bible say to honor your parents, and -- " Sure does! So do it: Taking on your own life, your own new family, your own marriage project, is not dishonoring mom and dad. It's honoring them. Congrats, parents! Your kid actually grew up.

That was their goal, right? That's honoring. Mom and dad succeeded, and their kid is now an adult, not some sycophantic, overgrown, whiny, baby-bird that can't... quite... fly...

"But my mom loves that I'm still kind of dependent on her, and -- " Of course she does. It's natural. And it's natural, too, for her to want you to gripe about your spouse to her, and confirm her suspicion that you're much, much better than the person you're married to. After all, you're an extension of her. So yes, it's "natural". Just like a lot of dumb, immature things are "natural". But who knows? Maybe she can grow up, too.

Maybe you read that whole thing in the Bible about, "leaving" your parents, and starting over? Maybe you think that's just too radical? Well, there are a lot of radical things in the Bible, and -- let's be honest -- this "leaving" thing was a lot MORE radical back in the day, when the rest of the ancient world was all about sticking with your parents until their dying day. It was just plain shocking, actually.

So yep, it's radical. But there it is.

Also "radical": Not repeating the same mistakes your dad made. Or acting like your mom. Or raising your kids in a new way. Or setting out on a new journey, a better one, that God has planned for you. Freedom is radical. So is maturity.

(Bonus: The Krusty Sage's wife thinks he's hot when he demonstrates he's his own man. She also thinks he's hot because of his awesome white beard and his awesome wooden throne-thing, but the whole "Chart our own course together" is pretty dang romantic, too. And this from a Sage who totally loves and enjoys his own parents.)

Quit letting them tell you where to be for Christmas. Quit being emotionally dependent on them. Don't borrow money from them, if you can avoid it. Quit the, "I can't believe my mom just did/said that!" routine that still gets you fired up. Besides, unless you're stupid, you CAN believe she said "that", because he's been saying "that" for years. Quit being shocked, repeatedly, by the same thing.

Do not let them have power over you. Oh, they still want it, God bless 'em. But too stinking bad.

Start over. Do everyone a favor.

Love your parents, yes; appreciate them, yes; be there for them when you're needed, yes. Perhaps, when they're old and frail, they'll need you. Wonderful. Just do your best so you don't need them, anymore.

Want to "honor your parents"?

Grow. Up.

Whether they like it or not.

Sheesh.

A few years ago we discovered that my son, Nathan, has Asperger Syndrome. I say "discovered" because we have never received a formal diagnosis, and we probably never will. (We're simply not sure that a diagnosis is something that is going to help him.) I think he was around five years old when we discovered his condition. My wife Brandi was a special education major in college, and she was trained in a specific type of therapy geared toward autistic children, so that certainly helped us pick up on certain clues in Nathan's behavior. As far as earlier detection, part of the problem for us was he was our first child and we simply expected him to be neurotypical. We didn't anticipate any roadblocks or challenges in his life.

Of course, as we all know roadblocks have a way of magically appearing, and there's no such thing as a smooth-sailing life of parenthood. During the past five years or so we've tried a handful of interventions, prayed for him like crazy, had the elders in our church pray for him, lamented his condition, and so on. He's now 10 years old and he's starting to mature, take on more responsibility, and figure out how to express his feelings and interact with other people (those things are often big challenges for Asperger kids). I'm not sure how much our interventions have helped, but I do know that he's made great strides in the way he relates to his younger brother and sisters, but the deficits are still apparent when he relates to people outside our family. I think most kids consider him strange, and most adults probably consider him quirky.

Building meaningful relationships is a challenge for Asperger kids, and autistic people in general (that's why one of the up-and-coming interventions is called Relationship Development Intervention). We've still got some challenges with Nathan in that area. He can sometimes not listen to what other people are saying, and he doesn't pick up on context clues (like rolling eyes or yawns) that might indicate that a person isn't interested in what he's vocalizing. And often times what he's saying sounds silly and meaningless (even though he typically knows what he means, even if we don't).

Of course, his silliness is what I so often love about him. Check out this email he sent me last week:

Subject: Outrangeous Bomb

I was thinking about making one that it is like this:

If it is a mile away from you,you will die.
If it is 25 miles away from you you will die.
If it is 50 miles away from you you will die.
If it is 75 miles away from you you usually will die.
If it is 100 miles away from you you usually won't die.
If it is 125 miles away from you you will feel some heat but not die.
If it is 150 miles away from you you will feel some heat.
If it is 175 miles away from you you usually will feel some heat.
If it is 200 miles away from you you usually won' feel some heat.
If it is 225 miles away from you,it will be fine.

That email is typical Nathan. He's preoccupied with bombs right now, and he's a fiend for numbers in any shape or form. (He first became obsessed with bombs when he saw The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. That opening scene where the bombs are dropping simply mesmerized him. He'd love to watch that scene over and over, ad nauseam.)

I've heard parents of Asperger/autistic children say that if they could wave a wand and make their kids neurotypical, they would not do it. Even Temple Grandin supposedly said that her autism is part of who she is, therefore she wouldn't change it. I'm torn between wanting a life for Nathan that's "typical," versus celebrating the fact that he's atypical and gifted in so many ways. Like many Asperger/autistic people, he's got an incredible mind -- a mind that can change the world. His mind wouldn't be that way if he were typical. Furthermore, he's probably the happiest person I've ever known; the kid is always happy and smiling. He loves everyone right down to his infant little sister, Evangeline. (I'll often times see Evangeline crying like crazy, screaming her head off, while Nathan is joyfully holding her in his lap, smiling like he can't even hear her earsplitting cries. It's very cool to witness him be that way, so happy and content with his little sister, despite her current mood.)

In the end I want him to understand JESUS' love for him. I want him truly, in the depths of his soul, as much as possible, to comprehend the breadth of God's love. The same God who holds Nathan in his lap, smiling the whole time. For my part I'll keep loving him, one day at a time.

He's easy to love.
Read the rest of this entry . . .

This morning my two year old got out of bed and came to see me, blurry eyed and still in his P.J's. "Good Morning", I said. "How did you sleep last night?"

"With my eyes closed," he said immediately.

Well, there you go. Can't argue with that. :-) But he wasn't joking. That was his honest answer and that's how he understood the question.

Children are concrete thinkers. They have difficulty with the abstract. Expressions and figures of speech are so often lost on them. Many an amusing moment when I do children's sermons on Sunday Mornings comes when a child answers a questions with a concrete or literal answer.

I wish I had started a journal of all the times my kids interpreted something I said literally. So many of those email jokes people send around with kids saying cute things to their Sunday School teachers are just kids understanding what grown-ups say literally. We laugh. But that's how they think. I always try to remind myself of that when talking to kids. But I didn't see this one coming.

I think our kids should be laughing at us. Do we realize how silly we sound?

What examples do you have of your kids answering you or understanding you literally? (Please don't paste one of those email joke things. I want to hear about your kids.:)

Or give me examples of silly things we grown ups say, if taken literally. (Like "I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.")

So unless you are completely disconnected from any news outlet of any kind, you probably know my Tennessee Titans got utterly destroyed today by the New England Patriots. It was arguably the "awfulest" NFL game loss in almost 40 years.

Here's the conversation I had with my daughters Macy (8) and Grace (6) afterward.

Me: Well, the Titans lost. Really bad too. It was 59 to zero. That's the worst loss in the NFL since 1976.

Grace: They got no points?

Me: Nope, no points.

Macy: Whoa.

Me: Yep. What do you think they should do?

Macy: I don't know.

Me: They might fire their coach.

Macy: No!

Me: No?

Grace: What does fire mean?

Me: Get rid of him.

Grace: I wouldn't fire him.

Me: No? But something has to change. What would you do?

Grace: I would just tell him to play better.

Me: You think they haven't done that already?

Grace: No.

Macy: What would happen to the team?

Me: They'd keep playing.

Macy: Without a coach?

Me: No, they'd hire another one.

Macy: Oh. Well, that's okay.

Grace: No, they should keep the same coach.

Me: That's very gracious of you, Grace.

Grace: I'm going to practice my tap dance moves.

Grace (6): "What does 'perish' mean? If having Jesus means you 'not perish,' it must be bad, right?"

Macy (8): "It means 'die'."

Grace: "We're all gonna die, Macy."

As if it couldn't mean that. :-)

I believe Bird's lovely wife Brandi gave birth to their 4th child this morning, a little girl named Evangeline. (Named for the gospel! Love it.)

The number of little Thinklings grows!

Macy (8) has a diary. She brought it to church last night and took notes. Here are a few lines:

Dad is preaching to the people. Dad said it is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings . . .

Those are God's words that Dad just presented to me. They will be treasured forever.

Our oldest turns 8 today. Time has flown. Seems like just yesterday she was toddling around the house, chattering to "Memo" (Elmo) on her playphone. Now she's writing "novels" and original musical compositions.

Our little beauty's growing up.

Macy 5 years or so ago, about the time I started blogging:



Macy this year:



Happy Birthday, baby girl.

Grace (5): Sissy is speaking to me in her mean voice.

Me: I'm sorry. That's not very nice, is it?

Grace: No. So I don't want to be her sister any more.

Me: Well, that's not nice either. That's pretty mean.

Grace: Well, why should I be nice to her if she's not gonna be nice to me?

Me: Because that's called grace. That's why we named you that, remember? Remember that grace means being nice to someone and loving them even if they don't deserve it.

Grace: She doesn't deserve it.

Me: I know. But it would be easy to be sweet to her if she was being sweet to you, wouldn't it? If she was being nice to you, wouldn't you want to be nice to her?

Grace: Uh huh.

Me: But that's not grace. Grace means being sweet to your sister even if she's not being sweet to you.

Grace: Why would I want to do that?

Me: Because that's what God did for us. He loved us even though we're really bad. Didn't he?

Grace: Ohhh. Yeah. I'm gonna go watch TV now.

My cousin Josh filmed this quick video of Gracie (5) being her daredevil self. She asked if she could ride her bike "off the cliff," and being the awesome dad I am, I said of course. I'm the dude off camera, watching with pride, and then stepping in after the damage is done.


Gracie Knievel from Jared Wilson on Vimeo.

Thinkling Readers, I Need Your Help!

My oldest child is a 7 year old boy and in the second grade. He's reading very well for his age. (I'm gonna guess that he's reading on about a 5th-6th grade level or higher.) He reads a minimum of 100 pages a day. I'm having a hard time keeping up with his habit. Our school library lets parents check out books in large numbers, so I've been doing that. The problem I'm having is that (right now) I have the (naive?) belief that just because he CAN read something doesn't mean he SHOULD. It seems that most of the books that are on a middle school reading level assume a middle schooler is reading them. (Understandable) So these books have content that I'm not sure my second grader is ready for. Murder, kidnapping, child abuse, divorce, non-christian religions etc...

None of these books are bad or explicit, it's just that I'm not sure that I'm ready for my second grader to read about kids whose parents don't love them or even beat them.

So here are my questions for you.

#1- Am I being ridiculous? For example, I just checked out some books from "The Sugar Creek Gang" by Paul Hutchens and "Baker Street Sports Club" by Jerry Jenkins. Both series are published by Moody and are quite similar in "conflict". The narrator is a new christian, lots of explicit Bible and Christian talk, witnessing to friends, parents who are alcoholics and beat their children, kidnapping, hurt feelings etc...

I've found many books that are perfect for him reading level wise, but because they are targeted towards "reluctant readers", they are actually assuming a high school mentality reading at a middle school level. So those books deal with things way beyond a second grader.

I just wish that I could find more books like Henry Huggins, Ralph S. Mouse, Homer Price, the Boxcar Children etc...

I'm looking for books where there is adventure without ruining childhood quite yet. Sheesh! He's only 7, but so many of the books that he's ready to read assume he's 12. But books targeted to 7 year olds are just big picture books that he's waaaay beyond.

But I'm starting to think I might just have to suck it up and start letting him read about alcoholics and child abuse. I'm just not sure he's (or if I'm) ready for that yet.

#2 - Do you have any recomendations?

The other day on the way home from school while talking about actual punishment one of my boys had earned, I was getting irritated that the "not in trouble" son was pushing for severe punishment. So I made an off-hand remark that maybe we should take away the "in trouble" son's screen priviledges for a whole year. Whoops. The "in trouble" son doesn't understand sarcasm yet and thought I was serious. He lost his temper in a millisecond. As I was calming him down and trying to explain why I said that, I apologized to him and I thought, "So this is what that verse means."

We tell children that they should obey their parents, and indeed they should. The Bible makes it clear that it is for their own good. (Ephesians 6:1-3). But we parents should not fail to notice the responsibility that goes along with that. It is not obedience for its own sake, but for the sake of your kids. We are supposed to be giving them rules and instructions that will help their lives. Our children are gifts but not just for our amusement or so we can have someone to boss around.

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4).

Another way to translate this is “Do not provoke your children to anger.” This certainly doesn’t mean that our children have to like everything we tell them or that we have to be afraid that rules will make them angry. Paul is talking about deliberately stirring them up. As parents, we shouldn’t lord our authority over our children or make them do things just because we can. Another way we do this, I think, is when we parade our children out as forced entertaiment like dancing, costumed chihuahuas every time company comes over.

Children should be allowed reasonable freedom, within boundaries. When we enforce rules inconsistently or use our authority in an unpredictable or seemingly unmotivated manner, it provokes them to anger, sometimes justifiably so. We don’t like to be treated that way, neither do our kids.

Our children need a steady, even-handed approach to discipline. In another place, Paul says,

“do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged” (Colossians 3:21).

Unnecessary rules, unreasonable standards and endless griping about petty things creates resentment and inner feelings of rebellion.

Instead of exasperating them, we are supposed to be bringing them up in the instruction of the Lord. In other words, if we aren’t teaching them to follow Jesus, we aren’t doing what God expects of parents. A literal translation of Ephesians 6:4 reads “nourish them in the instruction and discipline of the Lord.” This means teaching them regularly to follow Jesus, not only with our words but with our actions. Therefore we should be helping them to feel loved at all times. We are supposed to be nourishing their spirits, not just controlling their external behavior.

Our number one priority is not obedience for its own sake, or the opposite extreme, their happiness, but their regard for their Lord. Their obedience and their happiness must be means to that end. We do this by teaching and training them in God’s word. This is the Christian parents’ highest calling and privilege. Though we all wish good things for our children, we should care more for their love and loyalty to Christ above everything else.

Parents should care more for the loyalty of their children to Christ than for anything besides, more for this than for their health, their intellectual vigour and brilliance, their material prosperity, their social positions, their exemption from great sorrows and great misfortunes. (Dale, cited in "Ephesians" TNTC by Francis Foulkes, p. 173)

It’s true for us and it’s true for them, without Christ all of those things are meaningless.

What are some other ways that normal good decent parents exasperate their children? Do you have any advice or tips?

Joe Thorn: My Dad, The Christian

Macy (7), as she, appropos of nothing, abruptly rises from the couch mid-conversation:

"I'm going to the toy room to practice my dance moves."

See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.
-- Matthew 18:10

It is a common question, because it is unfortunately a common occurrence: losing a baby. I think we all tend to believe that God receives departed infants into heaven, but perhaps we're not sure why we believe (other than that the alternative seems unconscionable). Many times grieving families seek assurance. This post is my imperfect attempt at offering cause for hope.

Read the rest of this entry . . .

Saturday morning I told my girls that I would take them to see Bolt at the theater that afternoon.
They played sweetly together most of the morning, but midway through the day they just kept getting on each other's nerves, and after several warnings to stop didn't prevent them from aggravating each other, I finally employed the nuclear option. "Never mind on the movie," I said and explained why.

An hour or so later, I was giving them a bath in preparation for errands. I had decided that I would spring the movie on them as a surprise and use my changed mind as a way to explain grace to them (which Becky and I do a lot).

During the bath, Grace said, "I've gotta get my neck clean because I can't take dirt on my neck into the movie theater."

"Why do you think you're going to a movie?" I asked. "I told you we weren't."

She looked at me unfazed and said, "Yeah, but I prayed to God and said I'd be sweet and I know he'll give me a second chance."

Turns out after I left the room after taking the movie plan away, both girls decided to pray to God to apologize for not being sweet and to ask for another chance.

Isn't it awesome that we worship the God of second (and third and fourth and fifth . . .) chances?

It was also weird and fun to have been the unwitting answer to my daughters' prayer!

(We're still working on the concept of being sweet not to avoid consequences or to have consequences rescinded but because it's the right thing to do. :-)