“Because I said so.” We heard many such timeless one-liners growing up. Some of these sayings were exaggerated threats.  “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Some of them were legitimate threats. “Don’t make me stop the car.” And, as Bill Cosby explained, some of them were relationship definers. “I brought you in this world, and I can take you out. And it don’t make no difference to me; I’ll make another one look just like you.”

Most of us wouldn’t say such things to our kids. If we did, it would be done purely in jest. (Whereas, the true intentions of our own parents were, at times, a bit ambiguous.) This generation promotes a kinder, gentler approach to parenting. We are less prone to speak from a position of authority and more likely to reason with our kids. We prepare our case, anticipate rebuttals, and present our arguments. We listen. In fact, we feel obligated to listen. We judge, but we try to be fair. Who can argue with that?

Our kinder-gentler parenting style has some merits, but I also fear that we’ve lost something. We’ve lost the concept of authority.  We’ve forgotten that God put us in charge of our kids. When we tell our kids to do something, if there is anyone who is going to ask “Why?” or “How come?” it had better be God. He is the One we answer to.

I’m not saying we should have authoritarian relationships with our kids, and I’m not saying that we shouldn’t help our kids understand the reasoning behind why we instruct them the way we do. However, I also think we should have the complete freedom to ask them to obey just because we asked them to.

Let me give an example.
 
Dad: “I’d like you to go wash your hands before supper.”

Kid: “Why?”

Optional response 1: “Because you were playing with turtles and turtles are a major source of Salmonella infections among young children. You could get really sick, and I love you, and I don’t want you to get sick. And make sure the temperature reaches 100 degrees Fahrenheit, wash for 20 seconds, and make sure you get your arms too.”

Optional response 2: “Because it helps kill germs.”

Optional response 3: “Because I asked you to. God put you in my family and He put me in charge. You may not like this, or see the wisdom in it, but that’s okay. You may think it would be better to do something else, and maybe you’re even right. But God wants you to obey anyway.”

Optional response 4: “Because I told you so.”

My response in such a situation could depend on a number of factors: the context of the conversation, any rebellion I sense in the child, the amount of time I have to provide an explanation, and how many “whys” I’ve been asked. I could use any of these responses and wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty about doing so.

I love my kids like crazy. I tell them that and I show them that all the time. My relationship with my kids is one of my highest priorities. But I also am in a role with my kids that God has defined. I’m the dad, and they are the kids. I am asked to train them and raise them, and they are asked to honor and obey me.

Using your authority and expecting obedience is not a lack of grace; it’s simply carrying out the charge you’ve been given. We must be at peace with being the ones who give the commands, see to the follow-through, and dish out any necessary discipline. It’s fundamentally important that parents be willing to play the part of the parent.

For years our family has prioritized Faithwalkers. We took our eight kids and sat semi-quietly on blankets in the back of auditoriums in Missouri, Nebraska, and Colorado. Oftentimes one of us missed out on main sessions, stayed in our room, or walked the halls, and worked with kids who weren’t yet ready to sit through hours worth of sermons. One year we missed much of the conference as multiple kids were sick in the hotel room. Sometimes God provided special ways to offset or cover our expenses, but over the years it cost us a lot of money. In addition to registration, hotel, and gas, several times we made it back to El Paso only to face expensive van repairs.

Faithwalkers began as a way for the younger generation to learn from the failures, successes, and faith of the seasoned veterans—the “Faithwalkers.” It wasn’t a family conference and we didn’t expect it to be. We went full-well knowing that we were going to have to make it work for us. We would have to sacrifice to make it work and to take from it what we could.

Over the years they added a cry room with a live feed and seminars for kids and parents, but that was never much of a draw for us. It was still going to be a long drive, a lot of money, and a lot of dying to ourselves instead of getting to enjoy the conference. We went to Faithwalkers for a lot of reasons, but never because it was a family friendly conference. It wasn’t.

When we went to Faithwalkers our kids saw that they weren’t alone. There were a lot of Jesus-followers who were excited to be there. They saw that faith wasn’t just for parents and their children. No, faith was lived out when kids grew up too. Hundreds of young men and women moved out of their homes and continued to hold to a living and exciting faith in their post-teen years.

We went to Faithwalkers to raise our hands in worship, and to sing truths that are too fantastic to fully grasp.  The music constantly worked at our calloused souls like waves washing over a sandcastle.  I knew that order had been restored to my spirit when tears finally came to my eyes as I sang to Jesus.

We went to Faithwalkers to see old friends and to make new ones. Sometimes we just got to smile and nod as an old friend passed in the hallway, but other times we sat and talked for hours. We laughed, teased, prayed, listened, and shared with friends new and old. Our kids played with their kids, and we left with more friends than before. We were not only enjoying life with our peers, but our kids were developing a relational family. At Faithwalkers our kids knew one thing: this is our tribe. This is where we belong. This is where we want to be.

We went to Faithwalkers because of its original purpose. We wanted to sit at the feet of some Heroes of the Faith and learn from them. We wanted to introduce our kids to their lives—to hear their stories, see how faith unfolded in their lives, and see their hearts. Our kids hear biblical truth all the time, but it has been invaluable to put them before teachers who applied those truths and clung to the Lord through thick and thin.

After the first year (when our oldest was only 10), we went to Faithwalkers because our kids begged us to go. They wanted to go on a long road trip and play games in the car. They wanted awesome worship. They wanted to see friends and be with their people. They wanted to sit in sermons, take notes, and learn like adults. They wanted to be held by Dad and Mom as we sat as learners before the Lord.

So, our region is doing Frontline this year instead of Faithwalkers. It isn’t a family conference and we don’t expect it to be. We will go full-well knowing that we are going to have to make it work for us. But we wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Perhaps it’ll be more fun than usual. Moab is beautiful. There is going to be an extra day, and loads of free time. The topics look perfect for our teens and maybe we’ll skip a couple of sessions with our younger ones. We found a house to rent for $100 a night. Some other families are going and we are looking forward to making a memory with our family and friends. But to us, it’s not just about having a good time, but about positioning ourselves (and our children) before the Lord!

We hope you can join in on the party!

God instructs Adam, “Don’t eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you do, you will surely die.”

Adam’s eyes get big and he runs off to tell Eve. “Eve, God says we can’t eat from the tree in the middle of the garden. Don’t even touch it!”

Eve says, “Let’s go look at it!” and runs off. Adam follows behind and excitedly anticipates what fun they will have on this adventure.

God sees the two headed for danger and intercepts them part way. “Hey guys, here’s a neat tree. It’s called a maple. See how its seeds spin?” Adam and Eve stop for a moment and Adam starts to play with the seeds. “Good boy, Adam.” God takes a handful and throws them in the air. “How many seeds do you think you can throw at once?” Adam plays for a minute, but starts to lose interest as Eve starts wandering away. “Look Adam. I wonder how long they can stay in the air. Let’s count.” God yells, “Eve, come back!” Instead, she starts running. God stretches His hand high and releases a seed and speaking rapidly says, “Okay, Adam. Count! One…two… two and a half! Good job, let’s do it again. He releases another one and then turns to chase after Eve. He catches up to her just as she reaches the tree.

“Eve, I’m so glad you’re inquisitive, but let’s find something else to do. This is going to be so much fun. Look, I put a swing in that tree over there.” Eve ignores Him and reaches for a piece of forbidden fruit. As God reaches to grab her, he praises her, “I can tell by your independence that you’re a natural-born leader. But you can’t eat that.” She flashes an evil grin and runs away. He chases her around the tree several times and reasons with her as they both run, “Eve, are you hungry? Do you want some grapes? Bananas? They are much better for you.” Finally He catches up with her and bribes her away by telling her about some strawberries over by the swing. They reach the tree with the swing and God quickly gathers some strawberries. As Eve sits on the swing and starts to eat, God spots Adam closing in on tree of the knowledge of good and evil. 

God runs over to a neighboring tree. “Adam, this is called the tree of life. Wouldn’t you much rather have this fruit?” God takes a bite. “Mmmmmmm. This is so good. You should try this! It is so yummy! Don’t you think this looks like a better piece of fruit?” God sticks some life fruit in Adam’s hand. “You should take a bite. It is so much healthier than that other fruit. Did you know that this tree is so awesome that I’m going to have it in paradise some day?”

God looks back toward the swing and realizes it is empty. He tells Adam to stay put and runs to the swing, calling for Eve. He reaches the swing and realizes she is not there. He looks back and sees Eve standing next to Adam. She has a half-eaten piece of forbidden fruit in her hand and is offering it to Adam.  God runs back, instructing as he goes “No, no! Don’t eat that fruit. I’ve got something for you that is much better. And it is so pretty…” He continues trying to distract them until he gets within reach.

God forcibly takes the forbidden fruit from Eve’s hand and tosses it onto the ground. She starts to whine and fuss.  She runs to the fruit picks it back up. “Eve,” God says, “That is not a healthy choice. You want to eat good food don’t you? Throw the fruit down.” Eve hands the fruit to Adam. God praises her, “Good girl Eve! That was a good choice.” Adam quickly takes a bite. When God reaches for him he runs away in a determined sprint. In hot pursuit God chases him and catches him and finally wrestles the fruit from Adam’s grasp. Tears of rage pour from Adam’s eyes. God commends Adam, “Good boy. You gave me the fruit! Wasn’t that a good choice? Doesn’t that make you happy to make good choices?”

And they live miserably ever after.

“And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward.” Matthew 10:42

“Daddy, how come you have time to go to a baseball game tonight, but you don’t have time to fix my bike chain?” asked my 6-year-old.

“Well, buddy,” I started to explain, “it’s not quite that simple.” “You see it’s part of my job to go to the game since it’s a church activity.” Of course, I immediately realized that sounded pretty stupid, so I set to work on fixing his chain as I continued defending my actions. I mumbled on for a few minutes vainly trying to make my priorities sound reasonable, but, of course, that was a lost cause. Fortunately, six-year-olds are more interested in getting their bikes fixed than on scrutinizing faulty logic.

It’s funny that I thought I could watch baseball for Jesus, but I didn’t have time to help my own son for five minutes for Jesus. It sure seemed pretty obvious to my son what the right thing to do was, but somehow I missed it. Sometimes I get fooled into thinking that simple acts of kindness are unspiritual work. Going to church, serving in ministries, and reading my Bible all seem to be spiritual work (and let’s not forget attending baseball games), but somehow fixing a bike chain seems different.

I wonder how often we miss opportunities to serve Jesus because we don’t view ordinary acts of kindness as being spiritual. Does giving someone a cup of cold water only count if they are dressed in rags, or does it also count if they are 3 ½ feet tall and their cup has a spill-proof lid on it? We need to remind ourselves that even the most ordinary acts of kindness are spiritual works that please God—even putting on bike chains.