Category Archives: Parenting

Minimizing Murmuring

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For several days now, my 7 grandchildren have been at my house making all kinds of racket and having all kinds of fun. Even though they’re only aged 4, 3, 2, 2, 2, 9 months, and 7 weeks, these young cousins (who live far from each other most of the time) are establishing sweet relationships, and it’s a joy to watch.

Today I saw 2 two-year Micah and Thomas wobble down the stairs hand-in-hand, chattering (simultaneously) about the toys they were going to find in the basement. Then 4 year old Skylar and 2 year old Evelyn joined forces to “help” Birgitta change Emerald’s diaper, adding kisses, head-strokes, and 12 extra wipes to the routine. This afternoon Nick and Skylar successfully completed an art project without bickering, and all of them regularly stop to pat crawling Autumn on her head.

Overall, the compatibility is impressive, at least most of the time. But then there are those moments of frustration, fatigue, and unadulterated, me-first selfishness when eruptions come lightning fast and pleasant children melt-down in seconds.

But there’s something much worse than screaming fits. Somewhere between harmony and discord lies the miserable zone of murmuring.

The word “murmur” is an example of onomatopoeia, a word that sounds exactly like its definition. To murmur is to whine or complain about something in an irksome tone, not especially loud or soft but droning on and on, with no end. And during these happy days at my house, we’ve also had big doses of murmuring.

But murmuring is nothing new. The children of Israel did it while following Moses through the wilderness, murmuring about being hungry, thirsty, about their leaders, about leaving Egypt, about the challenges of war, and about most of what God told them to do.

They weren’t the only ones, though. Years later the Scribes and Pharisees of Israel murmured against Jesus and also against his disciples. But New Testament believers murmured, too. None of us can justify pointing a finger.

Except God, that is.

God never murmurs and is disappointed when any of us do it, whether we’re 2 years old, 22, or 102, and he links his displeasure with punishment. As a matter of fact, the children of Israel weren’t allowed to enter The Promised Land for only one reason: their murmuring.

This afternoon Linnea tried to cope with a murmuring toddler as we talked about how difficult it was to listen to steady whining. Then she said, “But I guess since I’m complaining right now, I’m doing it, too.” We all whine sometimes, but God has the same opinion about it today as he did thousands of years ago.

So what can be done? How can we be good examples of “murmurlessness” in front of our children and grandchildren when complaining comes so naturally? Tomorrow Nate is going to give us the answer.

“Do all things without murmurings and disputings, that you may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke.” (Philippians 2:14-15)

 

Partial Answers

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Tonight after dinner Hans shared an interesting conversation he’d had earlier in the day with his eldest son, Nicholas. While walking home from the local playground, Nicholas had said, “When we die and I grow up again, will we be the same?”

In the mind of a 3 year old, this was a simple question. In Hans’ 30 year old mind, an accurate answer would have been lengthy and laced with scriptural detail far too advanced for such a young chap.

So he did what wise parents do. He simplified his answer and said, “Yes. You’ll still be Nicholas, and I’ll still be Papa.”

Is this how God responds to our questions to him? Logic tells us that when we ask, he has to simplify. After all, he’s above and beyond us in all respects. He knows more, can see farther, understands better, and is the unstoppable force behind all events. He’s a complicated Being!

But there’s more to it than just simplification. Certain of our questions have answers too heavy for us to handle, much like Nicholas wasn’t ready for the full story of heavenly existence. No doubt the “why” questions we voice to God are among those with answers we’re unable to take in. If God gave us the long version, either we wouldn’t believe it or the truth would overwhelm us.

Little Nicholas didn’t need any more detail than Hans gave him. What he did need was a dose of security from his father, because behind his question was a hint of nervousness about not being able to tell who-was-who when he got to heaven. And if he got there and couldn’t find his daddy, that would be a loss too great to bear.

As we adults question God and get frustrated with his simplified or limited answers, we should remember that all we really need from him is a dose of security. We think we want the details behind our “why’s” or other questions, but deep down it’s an affirmation of God’s sovereignty that we’re really craving.

Although he may keep the long answers to himself, he never skimps on letting us know there’s nothing to worry about. Whatever the situation, he reminds us, “I’ve got it well in hand.” It was good enough for Nicholas to know he has nothing to fear about heaven, and it should be good enough for us to believe the same thing about all that concerns us, whether in the afterlife or in the present day.

We’re often discontent with God’s partial answers but should take note of how quickly satisfied Nicholas became with his father’s short answer. That trusting response might be the very reason God says little children sometimes “get it” better than learned adults. We could all take a lesson.

Jesus said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.” (Matthew 11:25)

Complete Dependency

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Little Emerald is almost 5 weeks old. She’s gained nearly 3 pounds, which is quite a bit, since she left the hospital weighing only 7 pounds 9 ounces. We’re loving her double chin and dimpled hands, and Birgitta is doing a beautiful job nursing her.

Emerald’s eyes have learned to focus intently now, unlike in the beginning when they would freely cross while looking at nothing in particular. These days, her favorite thing to look at is her mommy’s face. She studies Birgitta’s features as she’s feeding, memorizing every detail with a gaze of complete adoration and feelings of absolute dependency. And when Emerald can’t readily see that face, she’ll crane her neck to do so. Her mother’s presence equates to complete security in Emerald’s mind, and she spends most of her wake-time searching for her and wanting to be close to her.

If Birgitta chose not to feed Emerald when she was hungry, she would gradually lose weight. If she didn’t change her, bathe her, keep her warm, and speak lovingly to her, Emerald would fail to thrive, eventually becoming sick, and finally dying. And yet this little one knows nothing of these dangers, trusting her every need will be met by her mother.

We might say Emerald is blissfully ignorant of life’s many hazards, which positions her perfectly to abandon herself to someone else’s care. And if we carry that image into the spiritual realm, God our Father wants us to have the identical relationship with him, focusing away from life’s hazards and abandoning ourselves to his choices for our lives.

Why is this so difficult? Why do we clutch onto our self-made plans rather than surrendering to the One who can do all things? That’s about as crazy as Emerald trying to dress herself or wash her own hair. It’s probably because we’re well aware of life’s dangers. Giving God the reins (which includes standing back so he can work) is a daily trust-tussle inside our heads.

Surely it’s not because we doubt his capabilities. Nor can it be a question of his wisdom. And none of us distrust the magnitude of his love. It’s just too hard to give ourselves over.

We’d never say out loud that we know better than he does, but our actions often say it. As a result, we’re consumed with worry, we’re loaded with stress, we nurture our fears, and we forfeit hours of sleep trying to manipulate circumstances and people. God looks down at this turbulence and says, “So unnecessary. But if you insist, the consequences will be all yours.”

Precious Emerald sets a ready example for those of us living with her. When she has a need, she cries for her mommy-provider and doesn’t try to solve problems on her own. She’s secure in Birgitta’s arms, gazing at her face, and when she sleeps, it’s the deep, nothing-can-wake-me-up sleep of a trusting soul.

With determination of will, we can be the same way with God.

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8)