I was interrupted at work today by the serene ringtone that lets me know that my wife is calling. I answered. Whilst we were talking, my wife informed me that Cielee had a bad day at school, and that–as part of her punishment–Cielee would tell me about it when I got home.
I get home, and Carrie proceeds to tell me that Cielee got mad at breakfast and threw a bowl of grits across the lunchroom! And… towards the end of the day, in an act of defiance, Cielee stuck her tongue out at her teacher. Geesh.
So we had a little heart-to-heart father/daughter time on the balance beam in the backyard (did I mention that Cielee’s in phase two of ninja training?). I reiterated a lesson that we’ve been working on–that God wants us to love everyone… and to not be ugly to people. So she admitted that sticking her tongue out was a mean thing to do… and that she loves Miss Lori, and is sorry. She also acknowledged that throwing food is mean, too, because it makes a big mess that other people have to clean.
As a deterrent to these behaviors, I explained that she would get 3 spankings. I stressed to her that we never want her to do these things again because they are very mean things to do.
“Stand up and come here…” I said.
Then… the tears started. And the lip began to quiver. The low hum resonated from the sliver of her open mouth. Simultaneously, the saliva glands picked up production, and the komodo dragon slime began to ooze. And at this point, the first blow had not yet been delivered.
“Now, bend over Daddy’s knee.”
“Ohhhh… ho ho ho ho ho hoooooooooooooo………………..” <sniff, sniff>
Swat.
“eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhh… oh ho ho ho ho…………….”
Swat, Swat.
“Now, please sit down next to Daddy.”
At this point, Cielee is crying pretty remorsefully… next to me. I let her calm down for a few seconds, then lovingly put my arm around her as I give into empathy. Tears stream down my face as we go through the process of reconciliation.
Administering punishment to my child is–to put it mildly–tough. I never delight that I’m the one who is physically making my daughter uncomfortable… or inflicting temporary pain upon her. Never. It’s not a sick thing. It’s a logical system that was established thousands of years before I was ever born. Actions and consequences. I didn’t invent that concept.
If I truly love my daughters, is it not my responsibility to provide moral training for them so that as they grow, they exhibit characteristics that are rooted in love for God and for every individual, great or small? Getting there is a process. Getting there takes time, effort, consistency, moral resolve, tears, and lots of love.
I’m pondering the tears that I cried. They weren’t because of shame. Nor guilt. Nor pain. Nor regret. I truly believe that they were rooted in empathy for my daughter–for the struggle inside of her heart at that moment.
I believe that the process of wronging someone else, seeking forgiveness, facing the consequences of your actions, and resolving to try not to commit the same offense is not ever easy to face. This struggle inside of Cielee at that moment–well, it became apparent to my heart. It was a beautiful thing to see my daughter going through the healthy pain associated with this process. I am not ashamed… and will never be ashamed of standing by my daughters and helping shape their morals and ethics.
Now… at first, I have to admit, it felt awkward that I had just spanked my child, but somehow I was the one crying in the end! But God, thank you for allowing those tears to make me question the emotions behind those tears. I have found that You are the source at the center of my query. Thank you for firmly grounding me in a faith that cherishes children and raising them on a path of righteousness. |