June 28, 2007
When They Jump
I'm teaching Isaac the beginnings of swimming. He likes for me to stand in the pool, close to the edge where he is crouching, his arms outstretched toward mine, hands twisting, beckoning me closer Daddy, closer, and then he jumps and I catch him, letting his head dip beneath the surface before I pop him back up into the sunshine and my arms. Then we "swim" back to the steps, my hands on his hips while he splashes and kicks. When I first told him to swim like a doggy, he kicked his legs and went Woof! Woof! Woof! until I explained how doggies swim.
Once he slipped off the bottom step while I was helping Eli swim, and for a second he was suspended in the water, only his hair above the surface, his feet stretching and not finding the bottom. Then I had him in my arms, and he was sputtering and crying. He knows what "deep" means now. He jumps toward my arms every time, knowing that it's deep water he's hurling himself into. It's stunning, if you contemplate it, how they trust us so completely. It's stunning as well how many of us set about betraying that trust with our neglect, or anger, or perhaps a seemingly innocent desire to see them fulfill our dreams.
And yet this little boy still jumps, when I hold out my arms. I hope I never fall short. I like that "sin" means "falling short of the mark." It suggests an immorality in what I see among too many parents, and often myself the falling short. They set out meaning well, and hoping good things, but in the daily grind they we, I fall short of the mark. Our children jump, and we aren't there to catch them. So they jump less and less, and then not at all, and their eyes take on that look of sadness or resignation you'll find on an abundance of faces in any high school, so much so that many parents tell themselves that's just how teenagers are.
It always fills me with a deeply peaceful feeling to be around our friends whose teenagers are happy and sociable, who don't have that look of being set against the world as a consequence of having come to believe the world is set against them. It's good to know parents who have stayed the course. It makes me hopeful. Are you staying the course?
Posted by Woodlief on June 28, 2007 at 06:35 AM


Tony, I'm sorry to say I'm not sure what "staying the course" means. I'd love to hear your definition.
Posted by: Ken at June 28, 2007 11:20 AM

Thank you so much for this post. Honest self-examination is very much like taking foul-tasting medicine in that it's very unpleasant going down but helps make us better in the end. I hope to never completely betray the trust my children have in me and must now add this to my list of things I ask God's forgiveness for when I pray.
Lord, forgive me for the times I have let my children down. I pray you grant them the grace to not project my failures upon You and that, when I do fail, they realize that their Heavenly Father will never fail them.
Posted by: Jim Viens at June 28, 2007 4:37 PM

Please don't assume that parents who have teenagers who are NOT "happy and sociable" have necessarily failed to "stay the course." I know parents who have agonized in prayer and made every effort to be godly examples to their children, loving them with their whole heart and endeavoring always to be there to catch them when they jump--only to experience profound heartbreak when their teens turn away from them and from the Lord. Their teens, after all, are sinners too with minds of their own. The parents did not necessarily betray their trust. But often they experience the double heartbreak of not only seeing their children lost, but also feeling the disapproval of the Christian community, who assumes that is must be something they, the parents, did wrong.
Posted by: Julia P at June 28, 2007 8:25 PM

Tony - as I go out to teach teenagers this fall, this is a good reminder to look for something in their faces rather than that obstinate "that's how they all are" look....I'm going to look for kids who've just forgotten how to jump.
Posted by: Kelli at July 3, 2007 12:03 PM

Post a comment