'It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?’
Hebrews 12:7
At some point, as a parent, you make the scary realisation.
I cannot protect them from every challenge.
The difficult teacher. The narcissistic friend. The doctor’s diagnosis. The exam room.
These moments in parenting pull apart our hearts, for we want our children to live without suffering, without pain, without anxiety, without hurt, and yet, we discover, it is impossible for us to shield them from it all. Maybe the greatest vulnerability of parenting is the problem we cannot fix.
The author of Hebrews uses a word today.
Discipline.
The word is translated from the Greek word paideia (a related word to our contemporary paediatrics). It specifically describes the training and nurture of children. It is wider than our idea of discipline, for discipline, as we understand it, tends to be exclusively for when we have done something wrong. But paideia — the formation of a child — is so much wider. It is correction and encouragement, boundaries and empowerment, restriction and liberation. The art of parenting is forming those who, as adults, will be resilient and creative, responsible and interdependent, courageous and grateful, and all of these things rooted in the singular experience of being relentlessly and unconditionally loved.
Discipline, then, is the stewardship of character. It is the growth out of that which is childish and into that which is mature. It is the growth away from entitled dependency and fear of monsters into joyful generosity and courageous calm. It is formation. It is the pathway to reaching the intended measure of our stature. It is enabling the coming generation who will contest evil and establish goodness on the earth.
And yet, we are reading, this discipline happens not just in cozy armchairs and story time with the Father. It comes through difficulty and struggles. It comes through pain and opposition. This kind of formation can only happen as the children of God learn to endure.
We find this difficult. Of course we do. Every experience of pain leads us to a Why. Every one of us, in difficulty, is confronted with questions of the goodness and love of the Father.
The truth goes deeper than is comfortable. For the Father, it seems, is more ambitious for you and I than we are for ourselves, and He is ready to grow us beyond our comfort levels. We are content to remain spiritually childish and comfortable. And yet the Father made us for vastly more than this. He made us to rule. He made us for glory. He made us to crush our enemy under our feet.1
And sometimes, my friends, the means He uses the dark valleys of suffering to grow selfless love, courageous clarity, and defiant hope.
Should we enjoy it? Of course not. Discipline seems painful rather than pleasant.
Should we deny our feelings? Not a chance. We take as our model the honesty of Jesus Himself in Gethsemane and Golgotha.
And yet, should we assume in our suffering the absence of God?
Deeply, truly, indescribably, no. For He is trusting us with something greater than we can imagine, and is crafting in us a greater glory than we could believe. He is treating us as His very children. For such we are.
And therefore, dear friends, drenched in the compassion of a Father who feels the eternal weight of your every tear, we endure.
For in this very moment, the Father is crafting in you the greater glory.
Reflect:
There may be no Christian teaching deeper or more emotive for us to hold.
Be kind to your heart. Know that you can and must ask for change.
But, until the change comes, draw this to mind: The Father sees, the Father feels, the Father knows, and He will, in all circumstances, work in you for the maturing and healing of your soul.
Tell Him what you need to tell Him. And rest upon the truth of His perfect fathering today.
Pray:
Father,
I somehow thought this life would be
Easier.
I somehow thought all my prayers
Would be answered,
And that your Way
Would be wide, and comfortable, and easy to find.
And yet, Father,
Here we are,
And it is
Difficult.
And I am invited to wonder
That in these places of my pain and struggle
Whether you just may be forming me
To the greater glory.
To the greater compassion;
To the greater purity;
To the greater hope;
To the greater joy.
And so, my Father,
For the joy set before me,
I take my stand again.
Heal this life — outside and within,
That I may in all circumstances
Become as you are making me to be.
In Jesus’ Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
2 Chronicles 10-12 | Psalm 117
Romans 16:20