Fasting from reckless words this Lent: how?

Last time, I explained how I was challenged to use this season of Lent to focus on turning away from hurtful words. Even though I know I am forgiven and loved, I still regret the times I hurt my nearest neighbours—my children. In deciding to deliberately abstain or fast from this habit over Lent, I am asking God to reveal the ways that I depend on myself or other things in moments of frustration, tension or fear. I’m praying that through this practice the Holy Spirit will teach me to depend more wholly on God, knowing that I cannot parent kindly without his help, and that even when I don’t parent well, his love is steadfast.

Here are three unkind habits of speech I’ve identified in myself—I’ve called them hurrying, harshness and huffing—and for each one I’ve identified an ‘antidote’, which is, not surprisingly, a fruit of the Spirit:

‘But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control. .’ Galatians 5:22–23 (NIV, 1984)

Hurrying

Children can be frustratingly slow. Toddlers eat slowly, children tell complicated stories about Pokémon slowly, teenagers learn to parallel park slowly. Our lives are fast and busy, and tolerating the slow pace of children is a physical challenge—I can feel tension in my body when things are not running to my agenda, and one of the ways I soothe and calm myself is to verbally hurry my children. Does the hurrying help? Rarely. I might momentarily feel less impotent as I vent some frustration, but my children likely feel distressed, ignored or embarrassed.

In many situations, children are going as quickly as their development allows. Learning new things is difficult and takes practice. I imagine how hurt and embarrassed I’d be if my boss or husband said, ‘Hurry up! Why is it taking you so long to learn this?’.

The antidote to hurrying is of course patience, together with self-control. In Colossians, Paul advises Christians on how to live together with others, including those we might have a grievance against (even the child who does not take care of their own belongings, or the teenager who is still learning to disagree respectfully with their sibling):

‘Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.’ (Colossians 3:12–13)

Practically speaking, I’m reminding myself that my child is probably already doing their best, I’m taking slow calming breaths, and, when we really do need to pick up the pace, I’m stepping in with clear expectations and support, rather than hurrying. Instead of ‘Come on, hurry up, why are you going so slowly?!’, I’m trying, ‘School is starting in ten minutes. Please put your lunch into your bag. I will tie your shoes’.

 In these moments, I’m asking for God’s help to abstain from indulging my own irritation and instead trust that God is at work in my child’s learning and development, even when the pace frustrates me.

Harshness and hassling

Sometimes our children need correction and guidance, but if I’m honest with myself, my correction is sometimes more about me venting frustration or worry than about my child’s growth. Ephesians 6:4 encourages parents to discipline and instruct their children but warns that we must not ‘be hard on’ them (CEV), ‘provoke [them] to anger’ (ESV), or ‘exasperate’ them (NIV).

Harsh or frequent criticism is unlikely to bring about change in our children, but it is likely to result in shame, anger and exasperation, and to damaged relationships.

The ‘antidote’ to harshness is self-control once again, this time coupled with gentleness. There is a clear call to gentleness for Jesus’ followers:

‘Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’  (Philippians 4:5)

Interestingly, this passage links our gentleness with bringing anxieties and requests to God in prayer. How often do our harsh or critical words emerge from our anxieties? We worry that our children won’t develop the skills or attitudes we hope they will, or perhaps we subconsciously wonder whether God is really working in their lives, and so we jump in and try to fix things or move things along with our words of correction. But here in Philippians we are assured that the Lord is near to us and our children, and that we can be at peace as we call out to him. We are told that God hears us, and that gentleness, though not particularly prized in our culture, is an attribute we should prize as followers of Jesus.

Practically speaking, I’m pausing to consider whether correction is really needed. Does my child already know they made a mistake? Do they need me to explain why they are wrong, or do they need assurance of my forgiveness? Have I properly understood the reason for their error? And if there is a need for correction, how can I correct with gentleness?

 I’ve noticed that harshness and hassling often sound like questions kids can’t really answer: ‘Why do you always …?’, ‘What were you thinking …?’, ‘Why can’t you just …’, so I’m seeking God’s help to abstain from these too.

I’m asking God to help me know his peace as I come to him with my fears and worries and depend on his care for my children.

Huffing

Your son spills his milk all over the table, his clothes, the floor and the dog. You know he didn’t do it intentionally; he just didn’t make allowances for his elbow when he reached for the tomato sauce.

You are finally sitting down to watch your favourite TV show, and your daughter reminds you that she needs to be at the soccer field in 20 minutes.

Your highschooler needs help with maths homework, and you have a headache. Your son’s sports shoes just fell apart and he needs new ones for the carnival tomorrow. Your daughter wants to explain all the various complexities of Minecraft to you extremely thoroughly.

These situations can all cause us to feel irritated or frustrated. They are not caused by our children’s poor behaviour, just by the ways that their needs and behaviours don’t work to a convenient schedule and can arise at any time, sometimes impinging on our own desires. So how do you react?

Me? I huff. I sigh. Maybe I grumble little. And while it’s appropriate that children know their parents make sacrifices for them, it’s important that we demonstrate a Christlike willingness to do so. Did Jesus huff on his way to Calvary? Quite the opposite: Jesus went willingly, saying , ‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep’ (John 10:11).

The antidote to huffing is love, plus of course self-control. We practise self-control by abstaining from huffing, and instead putting on love, which values our children’s needs (note: their needs, not all their wants) and demonstrates our willingness to care for them, even when it’s inconvenient.

Practically, for me this can mean deliberately adopting a positive attitude and tone and ‘jollying’ myself along. My favourite upbeat music sometimes helps! Sometimes, the best I can do is refrain from huffing and try to make the best of things. If necessary, I can tell my kids that, although I don’t really feel like cleaning milk off the dog or going late night shopping, I’m willing to do it because I love them. At other times, it means saying no to things, rather than agreeing and then resentfully huffing about it.

For me, it’s often a knee-jerk reaction to huff—an unthinking indulgence. As I identify this tendency in myself and (with God’s help) abstain, I am reminded just how dependent I am on God for growth and change in this (and all) areas of my life. Like Paul in his letter to Romans, I don’t want to selfishly huff … and yet I do it. As I abstain from huffing, I’m recognising that without Christ’s deliverance I am a slave to my own desire for comfort. I depend on God’s transforming power to make me someone who cares for my children with grace, not grumbling.

As we recognise our impulse or ‘appetite’ to huff, hurry or speak harshly, we deny ourselves the fleeting satisfaction of those responses to frustration and submit instead to God’s agenda and to his ways—gentleness, patience, self-control, love. By ‘fasting’ in this way, we live out our faith: If we believe God is powerful, then we can trust he will bring about his good purposes for our children and our families through the ways he deems good and right, not through words that hurt and offend our nearest and dearest neighbours.

I’m thankful for the  challenge I heard this year to abstain from hurtful words this Lent. I pray that with God’s help and the assurance of his ever-overflowing grace, many parents will be blessed to grow more Christlike  in the lead-up to Easter—and beyond!—as we practise depending on his goodness, strength and presence.

---

Kat Ashton Israel is mum to two young adults and three school-aged kids, and also works as a preschool educator. She is married to Toby, and they live in suburban Sydney. She is a contributor to Parenting in God’s Family Volume 2: More Biblical Wisdom for Everyday Life.

For more articles from Growing Faith, subscribe to our monthly e-newsletter.
To hear about the latest books and resources from Youthworks Media, subscribe here.