No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:11)

Our first born miracle is about to enter second grade in one month's time.  He is strong, confident, bright, and energized by being around others.  School is wonderful for a boy like mine.  However, he also struggles to listen, obey, and honor his elders and his peers.  His dad and I have noticed these character traits taking root in his heart these last couple of years and have tried to train him to honor others, not interrupt, and be a better listener than a talker, but the lessons are not working. And we are growing weary by the sound of our own voices constantly correcting him. 

What to do?  

First of all, we have recognized that the long term consequences our son will reap, if he continues to be pushy and dishonoring towards others, will be very painful for him.  He will not be likable, he will not be liked, and he will therefore not have the power to influence others for good.  And there is much good that his young heart already perceives.   And that breaks our hearts.  Second to this realization is our conclusion that we need to be better disciplinarians.  

I've always loved the verse, "train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."  (Proverbs 22:6)  I love that we're instructed to train them up, not discipline them up.  But here's the hard truth for those who have been gifted strong willed children, once they've been trained, discipline may be required to truly learn the lesson.  That is where we find ourselves now.  And so when we are playing cards with our strong-willed boy and he begins pushing and pushing for more and more games, we encourage him to be content and thankful for the five rounds of Uno he already got with us.  If he throws even the slightest fit, up he goes to his room.  When we are out for dinner and he grumps over getting a small milkshake rather than a man-sized portion, he will be choosing to have none at all.  When I put him to bed with books and cuddles but he gets upset when I leave because he wasn't told a story or given a backrub, he will tuck himself in the next night.  

I am tired of the constant fights, it is true, but even more true is that I love him and can see where this will take him.  It will take him to a place of loneliness, discontentment, and sadness.  O, I love him too much to send him there because I was too afraid to be a disciplinarian.

Last night as I tucked him into bed he asked why his dad and I were being so mean to him.  I answered his question with this question, "Son, what would you do if you were a dad and found out your son had stolen something?"  

He answered quickly, "I'd spank him."  

So I went on, "What if he did it again?"  

"I'd spank him again,"  my boy responded rather matter-of-fact.

"Why?" I had to ask.

"Because if he doesn't learn to stop stealing he's going to end up in jail."  

"That's exactly right," I said, "and you are going to love your son too much to let that happen... and so you will discipline him... just as we are disciplining you."

It is our prayer for our three, that even though discipline is not pleasant, that it would produce a harvest of righteousness and peace in their lives.  

Love covers a multitude of sins... so very, very true!  But love isn't just about giving and giving and baking and singing good night songs.  Love is hard sometimes; in this case love is very hard for me.  But I have no other choice.  For in this case, this is the type of love that will cover a multitude of sins and reap a harvest in future years.