I hope you can look back on this year and see specific ways that our loving heavenly Father has guided you, and my confident prayer is that He will continue to protect and provide for you in this sweet season of mothering little ones. I won't say farewell just yet . . . . first, let's dive in to this week's readings!
|Thanks again to my friend and photographer extraordinaire, Suzanne Stelling, for this image.|
Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
you make my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.
Psalm 16: 5-6 (New International Version)
Today, spend some time reflecting on this week’s scripture. Read it a few times, perhaps in different translations, or even aloud.
Is there a word or phrase that strikes you as particularly relevant to your life during this season?
Give yourself some time to think, journal, or talk with a friend about the thoughts that emerge from your time of reflection.
Also, try and find time to share this verse with each of your family members in ways that are appropriate to each of them, and see what kinds of conversations happen.
In this passage, the Psalm-writer, David, uses two concepts—the idea of a “portion” and the notion of “boundary lines”—to describe his own life circumstances.
How would you describe your “portion” during this season of your life? What sorts of relationships, activities, and commitments has He put on your plate? How is your current “portion” different than it was in past years? Spend some time considering all that is part of your life during this particular season.
As you’ve reflected on your “portion,” and perhaps how it has changed, you may also be able to identify some “boundary lines” that have “fallen” around your life during this season. Are there some things that used to be part of your life’s “portion” which are no longer present? Has your current “portion”—perhaps marriage, and/or the arrival of children, for example—brought about changes regarding the relationships, activities, and commitments you are involved in? Where are the current “boundary lines” in your life? What do they include, and what do they exclude?
Finally, when you consider the fact that God places limits around your life by assigning you “portions” and “boundary lines,” how does that strike you? Is it something that creates a feeling of security, or do you find yourself frustrated that you aren’t given the opportunity to choose your own “portions” and draw your own “boundary lines”? How do you view your “portion,” and what feelings do you have about the “boundary lines” that you have identified?
As you have the opportunity, you might consider talking about these questions with your spouse, your children, or a friend and processing your thoughts and feelings together. You might also find it beneficial to spend some time praying through your responses.
I have a confession to make: When Rebekah Wilson and I began last summer to discuss the possibility of my preparing this study for Moms n More, I knew—even then—that the section on “self-control” would be the toughest one for me. All year long, I’ve kept hoping that my prediction would be wrong, and that exploring the spiritual fruit of self-control would come more easily than I’d anticipated.
Well . . . my initial fears were right on target: this has, indeed, been the most challenging portion of the study to write. However, it’s also put me in a place of letting God peel back a few layers in my heart. It’s been a tiny bit painful, but it’s also helped me understand more about why God’s expectation that I practice “self-control” is such a tough one for me. I hope, somehow, that you’ll find encouragement as I share some of that process.
For me, Psalm 16’s imagery of portions and boundary lines takes me right back to two key childhood memories. For portions, I recall sitting at our family dinner table and being served a plate containing carefully measured servings of all the necessary food groups—some of which did not sound particularly appealing to my young self. I had all sorts of clever strategies for avoiding the healthy foods my parents wanted me to eat, but sometimes, those tactics weren’t as sneaky as they needed to be. One unhappy occasion involved a suspicious-looking mound of steamed zucchini—my least favorite! My attempt to deposit it in my water glass did not go undetected . . . or unpunished. Fortunately, that sort of thing didn’t happen very often, but as I’ll explain, I certainly haven’t forgotten that incident.
Another occasion involved a 4th grade report card on which my teacher indicated that I’d not done a good job of practicing self-control during a six-week grading period. I don’t remember what I’d done to earn her comment, but I’m sure it had something to do with my not having followed the rules and guidelines (boundaries, right?) she had established for our class. What made it especially upsetting is that even as an elementary student, I took pride in my track record as a well-behaved student, and it felt like her comment would mar my reputation in a permanent way. I still remember the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, first when I opened that report card at school and later at home when I had to face my parents’ disappointment.
Those were two very normal experiences involving a child submitting to an adult’s authority—my parents’ and my teachers’. For some reason, though, both of these instances seem to have had a powerfully formative impact on my understanding of self-control.
The “zucchini” incident somehow reinforced the idea that being given a “portion” would, by definition, involve accepting and consuming something unappealing, distasteful, or (to my child’s palate) downright slimy and gross. Somewhere along the way, I began to think that being given a “portion”—initially at mealtime, but later in other areas of my life—would always and only require me to accept and participate in things that I did not like or prefer. It also meant I would not have the option of choosing things I naturally enjoyed. In my child’s mind, accepting my “portion” would always mean telling myself “no” to what I might naturally desire—even the desire might be for something good or healthy.
The “report card” incident was, perhaps, even more significant over the long term. As an adult, I realize that after all those years of being known as a compliant, cooperative student, I sensed that my teacher’s comment had shone a spotlight on the “real me” . . . the “I’m-gonna-do-what-I-wanna-do-whether-you-like-it-or-not” Anne. Even as a fourth-grader, I think I feared that I’d been found out. But because I didn’t like getting in trouble with my parents (or anyone else, for that matter), I decided then and there that I’d never earn that sort of negative feedback again. I decided I was going to be the good girl, and I would accomplish that by repressing any and every impulse that might get me into trouble. By golly, I was going to practice self-control. No matter what.
And for many years, that’s what I tried to do. Stifling any part of my personality that ran contrary to what was deemed “acceptable” by those around me, I attempted to maintain a sort of mean-spirited, iron-vise-grip on my behavior, regardless of how this impacted my personal well-being. And when I failed to live up to my own expectations, I pulled in the cords of control even more tightly for punishment.
As you can imagine, my method wasn’t successful; I failed often and miserably. But that joyless experience is what I thought the Bible meant when it talked about practicing self-control: telling myself “no” to anything and everything that might be enjoyable, even if it was good, healthy, or in line with my God-given temperament, personality, and gifts.
It follows, then, that for years, any time I encountered that phrase—“self-control”—in the Bible, I had a powerful urge to turn and run . . . hard. I was terrified of God’s call to practice self-control partly because my efforts had created such misery in my own life. More importantly, though, I was painfully aware of the utter inadequacy of my attempts at self-control. While I might experience some success at treating others with love, kindness, and gentleness—and while I certainly sought (and needed!) peace and hope—I still knew I’d never live up to God’s expectation for being self-controlled. That knowledge—along with my instinctive but sinful-seeming impulse to move away from the call to be self-controlled—scared me.
I spent many [many!] years trying to work through my questions and fears related to this trait. The details of that story are, perhaps, for another time and place. For now, suffice it to say this: through that season, God graciously showed me another way—hopefully something closer to His way—of understanding just what He means when He invites us to let the Spirit produce the fruit of self-control.
Recently, I ran across Mary Ann Froehlich’s book, Courageous Gentleness: Following Christ’s Example of Restrained Strength. In a chapter on how this quality relates to the other fruits of the Spirit, she makes the following statement:
“Scripture teaches that self-control anchors our fruit in two main ways:
· It restrains our behaviors that do not mirror Christ.
· It prepares us to be ready and eager to do good in following our
Lord . . .” (101).”
When I view my own misguided attempts at self-control through Ms. Froehlich’s explanation, I realize a few things:
First, my efforts at self-control had everything to do with telling myself “no.” And they didn’t have anything to do with telling myself “yes.” For me, self-control was all and only about restricting actions and attitudes rather than adding good actions and attitudes.
This version of self-control didn’t just stop at discouraging un-Christlike behaviors; it also stifled any attitude or action that might have been seen as inappropriate by the people around me—even if those people’s opinions were dead wrong. The results—at least for me—were nothing short of destructive. Practicing this counterfeit version of self-control not only made me miserable; it also compelled me to sacrifice my own God-given identity.
Ms. Froelich’s second point, though, provides another vital observation: self-control isn’t merely God’s way of stopping or limiting unacceptable behavior. It is also His gift to us—to me. When the Holy Spirit prompts me to practice self-control, He is priming my heart to start moving towards the wonderful experiences God had in mind when He created me in the first place. Rather than requiring me to restrict my God-given identity, those God-ordained experiences invite me to press into and fully live out my unique gifts, talents, and abilities—to be “ready and eager to do good in following our Lord.”
I still struggle with the issue of self-control; I still find myself inclined to tell myself “no” rather than asking God to show me what He’d like me to say “yes” to. But as I continue to learn and grow, I am beginning to recognize a connection between God’s invitation to self-control and David’s imagery in Psalm 16.
Some days find me operating by my old understanding about self-control—living according to a self-imposed set of “portions” and “boundary lines.” When I construct those sorts of limits for myself, I am believing the lie that God expects me to muscle up, constantly tell myself “no,” and rigidly control each and every impulse that might be viewed as “inappropriate” by someone else. That’s a misery-making, joy-less existence, and I am learning that is has nothing to do with following God.
Other days, though, God gives me the ability to stop creating my own limitations and instead notice the “portions” and “boundary lines” that He has ordained for me. He allows me to find Him in the midst of those limitations—to recognize those limits as His own loving hands as they guide my life “make my lot secure,” and provide me with an inheritance that is “delightful.” On those days, I am thinking less about controlling or managing my own behaviors, and more about looking for Him, bringing all that I am to Him . . . right in the midst of whatever circumstances He has for me.
Today, spend a few minutes remembering the things you’ve read and thought of so far this week. Does anything stand out as particularly important or meaningful? Take time to notice.
As you reflect back on this week’s material, I hope it has somehow conveyed the idea that self-control isn’t about me regulating and managing my every thought and action. Rather, this trait is really about how I respond to limits and boundaries—most importantly, the limits and boundaries God places around my life. Self-control is less about controlling me, and more about my response to His control—a response that trusts in His deep, abiding, personal love.
Here, then is the great irony of self-control: when my response to my Father’s control is one of submission—which is really relinquishing my impulse to control—that is when the spiritual fruit of self-control emerges and blossoms.
One other thought seems important for me to share: In my research, I learned that the Greek word for self-control, ἐγκράτεια (egkrateia), is defined as the individual’s “dominion within . . . proceeding out from within oneself, but not by oneself. For the believer, egkrateiacan only be accomplished by the power of the Lord.”
What this means is that self-control isn’t self-control at all; it can be more accurately described as Spirit-control, which means that it is only possible as a result of the Holy Spirit’s empowering. In other words, I can’t manufacture self-control on my own.
With that in mind, I encourage you to spend some time remembering that you are God’s beloved and uniquely created daughter. Because He is living in and through you, it’s likely that you are already living out the quality of self-control in your life.
Section Two invited you to identify the “portions” and “boundary lines” that are unique to your life in this season. I invite you to consider where you have submitted to, or perhaps even celebrated, some of those God-ordained limits, realizing that such a response is an example of Spirit-control blossoming in your life. Ask God to help you identify places in your life where this is occurring, and celebrate His work.
Also, ask God to help you think of a few ways you might continue to cultivate self-control in your own heart as well as your other family members’. Where might you adjust your perspective about the limits in your life, perhaps seeing them as God-given blessings instead of frustrating or disappointing restrictions?
How, also, might you encourage this perspective as you move through the day with each of your family members?
As you jot down ideas, pray for the discernment to recognize those that are good fits for your family members’ unique, God-created personalities. Then, as time allows, talk about your ideas with them, and continue to pray for wisdom.
Much of the academic scholarship being done around the non-cognitive traits identifies self-control as one of the most vital traits for a child (and an adult) to possess. Some researchers would identify it as the foundational trait for most of the other non-cognitive skills. In other words, a child who can manage his behavior will also be more equipped to treat others kindly or endure difficult circumstances, for example. And sure enough, a quick internet search yields countless articles on how to cultivate this trait in ourselves as well as our children.
Rather than attempting the impossible task of summarizing everything out there, I’ll close with a few observations that strike me as especially significant or helpful in my own parenting journey.
The first is this: one of our primary roles as parents is to help our children recognize and accept that boundaries will be a consistent part of their lives. This means that my willingness to set and maintain reasonable boundaries in a loving manner is extremely important for my children’s development and growth.
Doing so, of course, causes our children (and us!) to experience all sorts of discomfort. It will require us to answer our children’s requests with “no” at times. But learning to manage themselves in the face of such discomfort--and allowing plenty of opportunities to strengthen their "self-management muscle"--is at the very crux of self-control.
Even as our children encounter limits and boundaries, or “no’s,” parents can help them learn ways to navigate those situations by following the “no” with an exploration of what one or more “yes’s” might be. Modeling this thought process is an important part of parenting. Psychologist Madeline Levine discusses this in her excellent book, Teach Your Children Well: “Don’t expect your children to learn without your guidance on how to show self-control. Children need to be shown how to change focus, how to shift activities, how to divert their attention. ‘Why don’t we read this story while we wait for the doctor.’ ‘I know it’s been a long ride; let’s see who can spot the first license plate from another state.’. . . A large part of self-control rests on the ability to manage uncomfortable feelings while searching for healthy solutions” (224).
Levine is stating that even as our children encounter the inevitable “no’s” in life, parents can help them respond by exploring the “yes’s” that still exist. They don’t have to only tell themselves “no;” they can also find the “yes’s” within the “no’s.” Teaching our children to respond to “no’s” with this thought process allows them to recognize that they have freedom and autonomy even within boundaries and limits.
A second thought: Even as we guide our children, we can also remember how important it is to allow them low-stakes opportunities to practice their own decision-making skills, even when that means that their decisions aren't always what we might choose. Recently, I was talking with a friend who is also a mom, and we were discussing our middle-school children’s choices about sugary foods before sports events. Her words stuck with me: “I tend to let my children make their own decisions about what they eat before a meet, so that they have the opportunity to learn for themselves which choices are better.” My friend’s wise comment was an important reminder for me. As long as I’m actively monitoring and managing my children’s choices, I’m keeping them from having the opportunity to make and learn from their own decisions. They may be compliant (which is convenient for me); but they aren’t self-controlled (which a vital quality for them). Grit researcher Angela Duckworth and colleagues agree: “Children who willingly comply with directives from adults are certainly easier to manage than those who don’t, but compliance should not to be confused with fully autonomous, self-initiated regulation.” In other words, because compliance involves merely allowing another person to dictate our actions, compliance is not the same thing as self-control. Rather, self-control happens when an individual chooses his/her own actions without directives or supervision from an authority figure or peer. And it’s self-control that, ultimately, I want to be strong in my children.
Third (and last): As one clinical psychologist and mother notes, “the foundation of self-control is trust.” And, although there is certainly academic merit to the importance of being trustworthy parents, it is ultimately most important for us to hold unflinchingly to our trust in God, and to model that trust for our children. With that in mind, I'll finish this week's material right where we started, with Psalm 16, this time in its entirety. As you read it again, notice how David’s unswerving trust in God’s goodness is at the root of his overall perspective:
Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
apart from you I have no good thing.”
I say of the holy people who are in the land,
“They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.”
Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.
I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods
or take up their names on my lips.
Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
you make my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
even at night my heart instructs me.
I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
my body also will rest secure,
because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
nor will you let your faithful one see decay.
You make known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand.