Disciple-learning isn't just any old learning

I had the privilege to speak in "Big Church" last weekend on discipleship. "Disciple" and "discipline" are related words, both stemming from "learning". In a Christian sense, discipleship is a type of learning that helps us both remain in Christ and keep growing.

And the principles of discipleship apply equally to adults and kids.

Do you believe that?

I'm afraid a lot of people don't. I'm afraid a lot of people are convinced that kids are somehow capable of less than the life-changing, robust learning that is the stuff of discipleship. And that view causes us to view them as only "eventual Christians" and to give them on a type of instruction that fills their heads but does not feed their souls.

That's a shame. And it accounts for the kids who are raised in church and grow up knowing all the "right" answers, who end up far away from church once they're older. Which is a majority of those who come through our churches.

Let me say that again: a majority - an overwhelming majority of kids who are raised in church - some surveys say 70%, others say 80% or as high as 90% - spend their young adult years away from the church. We've long comforted ourselves with the knowledge that "once they have kids, they'll come back", but the demographic reality of later marriage and elective singleness or childlessness makes that less of a certainty.

What's going on? Somehow, we are failing to capture kids' hearts, which is a critical component of developing disciples. When Jesus said, "Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations," he didn't say just teach. He could have, but the word he used that we translate as "make disciples" carries the sense of "teach them in such a way that they are changed into something else."

There is a magic moment that every teacher knows, when a student goes from just being a pupil, to being a learner - a self-motivated, devoted student of the subject at hand. Not every kid who receives art instruction is changed into a artist. Not every kid who sit under a music teacher becomes a musician. Not every history student becomes a historian. But when they do, the teacher has done more than just taught - they've changed a life.

That's disciple learning. And it's tied up in relationship. It doesn't usually happen without the influence of a teacher. It can happen that a kid falls in love with history from a book, and they find themselves changed into historians. But more often, there is that special teacher whom they admire and emulate. It is their pattern of speaking, of thinking, of reacting, of handling challenges - of simply living that becomes the living, breathing, teaching example.

That's why parents and the way home environments operate matter so much, because like it or not, if a parent self-identifies as a Christian, kids will learn powerfully from their examples. I do not, however, subscribe to any side in the "Whose responsibility is it - church or parents?" debate that has cropped up in the last ten years. On the one hand, no church leader or program can hope to have the influence that a parent has by virtue of the sheer amount of time they spend with their kid. On the other hand, some parents won't or don't want to oversee the discipleship of their kids, and churches have the size and resources to create worship and learning environments that you can't in your own home. It's everyone's job to disciple kids, and we should welcome that influence from wherever it originates.

The message is archived here; scroll to the 10:45 am service for September 13.

As We Suffered in the Heat...

Tough week this week, huh? What with the heat sending us scrambling for the library or movie theater or other air conditioned-enterprises because home relaxation was impossible and sleep uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, here's what you weren't doing. You weren't slogging across Hungary, trying to evade a razor-wire boundary with Serbia, in the rain, pushing your child onto a train. You weren't coming to grips with the fact that the new refugee camp you live in might become your permanent home, and that you might never go back to life as it was.

A news report I saw this week showed what a lot of refugees who had set out from Turkey were doing the moment they reached the Greek island of Lesbos: they were pulling out their cell phones, texting friends and relatives back where they came from, that they were safe.

Texting relatives? The imagery seems a little bit out of place. Aren't refugees poor, and desperate, and homeless? Aren't they dirty, and sick, and hungry? They are all of those things, at times, but the reality is more complex. The images of them pulling out smart phones jarred me, because it underscored for me something that's been hard to get my mind around: they're not that different from me and you.

That's one piece of a larger mosaic of disbelief in my mind that's been forming. Since I heard about the beheading of Iraqi and Syrian Christians, I was at the same time drawn to the story, and distanced from it. Again and again, as I have plodded through first-world daily concerns, I have struggled to reconcile the fact that we and they live in the same world. The brutality reported seems almost medieval. But it's not. It's today. Young girls being raped as prizes of conquest. Teenage boys and men being marched off and systematically executed. Christians being compelled to renounce their faith as they stare down the barrel of a rifle.

And now...In other news, Apple debuted the iPhone 6s today.

How is this happening, all in the same world? How is it REALLY happening? For some reason, Afghanistan seemed a world away. Iraq and Syria did, too - until recent images of refugees fleeing border police and storming trains in Europe caught my attention, suggesting as they do that this is coming closer and closer to our doorstep (and shame on me that it took this long ).

Is this "count your blessings" blog post? Maybe. But it's more. It's a call for us to consider that this isn't happening over there...but in our world, today. That thought blows my mind. If we wait to care until the "problem" hits our own shores and truly inconveniences us, we won't be objective about it. I won't be.

In light of the fact that these are fellow human beings, made in the image of God, what does God expect of me? I honestly don't know. But I do know this: deliberate ignorance isn't an option. I know that in the last 4 years, while I have gotten married, finished seminary, and taken on a new role at my church, Syria and the region around it has been descending into hell. And I know that Jesus entered humanity and suffered with them, as surely as he suffered with us.

Pray for the children. It may sound trite, but war is hugely disrupting to a nation. Think of all the social institutions you rely on now, when your kids are young, that help outfit them for the future: schools, clinics, parks, rec programs, churches. Now imagine them closing for four years. What would you do? How easily could you arrange alternatives, especially if at the same time you were displaced from your home, having to find work, shelter, and daily food?

Remember the desperate situation of people during Hurricane Katrina? Remember what they were called? That's right - refugees. And some lost their homes, but rebuilt. Even after 10 years, things are not "normal" in New Orleans.

And that was water. Syria is war. There is ongoing destruction and displacement. Once it ends, it will take years to resume "normal".

I know some people have looked at what's unfolding in Europe, shrugged and said, "Well, they chose to leave." I can accept that adults might choose where to live, but under no amount of tortured logic can children be held responsible. They are truly innocents, and their innocence is being stolen from them. They will never get those childhoods back.

I need to reckon with the fact that all of this is unfolding on the other side of a world I inhabit. Join me.

Sports are Faster than Life

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Guest Post by Wendy Hinman

Sports are faster than life. A three-month season is an epic journey of victories and losses, and ultimate growth. Through practice and play there are more teaching opportunities per minute in a sporting arena than nearly any other venue. . . . if framed properly.

--Christopher M. Schrader, PhD

Beyond A Whistle And A Prayer

The Cooper twins always struck out. They batted 8^th and 9^th in the order, and here it was the Carlsbad Youth Baseball World Series with two on and two out in the bottom of the 9^th and the Cooper twins were up. Josh, the coach’s son, was on third and Jordan, a speedster, was on first.

If the first Cooper impossibly got a hit, the other would surely strike out. First pitch: he swings at a pitch in the dirt. Josh couldn’t take it. Miraculously the next pitch was a ball. On the next wind-up Josh takes off for home while his dad—coaching at third—just about has apoplexy that his son is stealing without getting a signal. Jordan sees what Josh is doing and takes off for second. The catcher is rattled and bobbles the ball. Josh slides safe and the catcher overthrows to third while Jordan rounds the base in full sprint. The stands erupt as defeated fans could feel the rising victory.

When the brick dust settles Josh is beaming, Jordan is dancing and the Cooper twins are just incredibly relieved. On the ride to the end-of-season party Josh’s dad doesn’t know whether to admonish his son for not obeying the signal or praise him for thinking so fast. The Coopers' mom doesn’t know whether to talk about unexpected help or just be quiet.

********

We sense these opportunities intuitively as parents when our child starts playing organized soccer or makes the surf team. We just don’t always know how to harness the teachable moments coming at us. They all seem to mean something, but it’s hard to process before the next pitch.

Not only do we jump and exult when our child makes an interception or groan when they don’t make that save, we do it collectively with other parents in the stands. We share sunscreen, umbrellas, and carpools together right alongside laughter and tears. We connect deeply and then drive home with exuberant or anguished kids.

If we take the time to hit the slow-mo button on one season of sport we can use these opportunities to intentionally disciple our children or reach out to our bleacher neighbors. But we do have to stop, think and pray before we can turn from being focused on ourselves, our child—who we can often look at as a mere extension of ourselves—and our team.

It is a Biblical principle that the natural comes first and then the spiritual. If we don’t purposely have a strategy we can harm our children more than help. And worse, we can be that angry parent in the bleachers. The natural anger, ego and envy in us will come out. With awareness and strategy, however, we can demonstrate and inculcate the spiritual fruit of peace, kindness and self-control.

On Friday night, September 11,  from 6:30-8:30pm in the Family Center, the Sports Ministry of NCCC will bring parents together to stop, think, and strategize how to disciple our children in a season of sport and how to be the light of Christ in the bleachers. Sports is faster than life.

Sign up for this free event at www.wholelifesports.org

This Summer Blog Series, in a Nutshell

This summer's blog posts were focused on how to have spiritual conversations with your kids. In case you missed an installment, here's the Cliff's Notes version.

Talking about God with kids isn't easy. But this seems to be a way not to embark on that conversation: by asking "What did you learn today?" Yet despite the fruitlessness of this approach, it's a go-to conversation starter - one that falls on its face nearly every time. So in the spirit of changing the conversation, these thoughts:

1. We need a better conversation starter. We need this not only because asking "What did you learn today?" usually leads nowhere, but because it prompts a certain type of conversation that's more like quizzing and less like dialogue.

2. Not only is it a shame that we fail to engage kids in spiritual conversations when we lead with "What did you learn today?", it turns out that talking about belief is essential to building faith. When kids have to put their beliefs into words, it crystallizes their thoughts and experiences into one body of belief that makes sense. But because it's difficult and because kids are unpracticed at it, that's all the more reason to avoid a confrontational question like "What did you learn today?" in favor of gentler approaches that open kids up to share about their personal impressions, not just give us "right answers".

3. When kids are asked what happened in church or what they learned, "I don't know" can mean many things. It can mean there truly was nothing presented (unlikely). "I don't know" or "Nothing" can mean, "I'm not sure" or (more likely) "I'm still thinking about it". It might just mean, "Ask me at a different time." Or it can mean there were no ideas jarring enough to cause disruption in their understanding of the world (the technical term is "cognitive dissonance").

4. Kids have thoughts about God that happen at random times and in random places. A better approach to engaging them is to start with what's already happening in their minds, rather than assuming the only spiritual thoughts they think are the ones we give them.

5. Kids' minds don't encounter the world primarily through words, but through experiences. So putting them on the spot isn't necessarily going to be the best way to open them up spiritually. What's more likely is that "teachable moments" will occur in the course of everyday life. This doesn't mean we abandon church-based approaches for kids, but that we think more widely about their lives and their worlds. God could be encountering them in a thousand places besides church. Why not start by asking your child where and when they feel closest to God, and go from there?

6. Kids' misunderstandings of biblical messages are occasionally hilarious, but they also illustrate an important truth: we cannot take for granted that kids will grasp spiritual truth merely through the words we use.

7. The Bible's message has a unity that should be respected when we teach from it. It's wrong, as children's curriculums so often do, to cherry-pick passages that support our own behavioral or moral agendas, call it "biblical teaching", and teach those without regard to the Bible's overall message.

8. While Bible stories generally are about one thing, and do have a meaning, the "main idea" extracted will vary from person to person. We should respect that. Just as bodies use nutrition differently, God knows what we all need, and so we shouldn't despair that kids don't come away with one main point that is the same for everyone who heard the story.

9. Developmental theories were never meant to be superimposed on spiritual ability or potential. They are not statements about what kids can't do; thus, it's wrong to conclude that children can't "own" their faith. What's different about them is their ability to express the faith they have in words. But we should not mistake that for spiritual immaturity.

10. Asking kids questions is a tricky proposition, because there's a power imbalance between adults and children that inhibits them sharing honestly. It is our job to diminish that barrier.

11. "Tell me..." is a great question starter. It begs for a narrative response. And it implies that we want them to answer openly and honestly.

To see the full series of posts, visit http://talkaboutbelief.wordpress.com.

Inside Out: The movie for kids...that every adult needs to see

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Animation studios figured out a long time ago that in order to make a hit, their movies needed to be equally entertaining to parents and children alike. Above and beyond the bright colors, slapstick comedy, and silly catchphrases, there needs to be a serious storyline that packs an emotional punch, with some clever one-liners thrown in for good measure.

In the case of the new movie Inside Out, it’s possible that Disney-Pixar tipped the balance too far. I honestly don’t know if this will be another Toy Story that kids ask to see again and again. In fact, parts felt more like a college psychology course than an animated kids’ film. But it does what few animated films can claim to do: it really makes kids think, and on that score, it earns an "A". With a plot that manages to break the mold of “believe in yourself” storylines, Inside Out tells a compelling tale that reflects life’s real complexity.

Riley is the movie’s 11-year-old protagonist, whose family moves from Minnesota to San Francisco. Despite a store of mostly joyful “core memories” from her childhood, her world – inner as well as outer – is turned upside down by the change. The film illustrates how that inner struggle to make life make sense again actually looks like.

No film I’ve ever seen has ever accomplished this. There have been plenty of films about preteens challenged to adapt to life changes, but they can only show us what everyone else sees – outward expressions of emotion. And perhaps they give us ringside seats for some intimate conversations in which the child experiences a breakthrough, often with the help of a Mike Brady-like parental figure whose sound bite wisdom saves the day.

In movies like that – and in life – the best thing we can do is play amateur psychologist, judging what body language and facial expression and tears mean. The inner processes that produce the outward behaviors are hidden to us. Inside Out jumps back and forth between the world of the characters and the emotional “head quarters” of their brains. Only animation could accomplish this. You get to see the fast-paced interplay between Joy, Anger, Sadness, Disgust, and Fear, all vying to impose their filter of reality on the situation at hand, and hard-wire that understanding into a memory.

How accurate is all of this? I confess that this is the film’s main difficulty: how to communicate a technical subject in sufficient detail (it is brain science, after all) without becoming boring or preachy or making your own head hurt.  But this isn’t just a 90-minute Schoolhouse Rock primer on your emotions; there’s a real story here, too, about growing up and family communication and accepting things you can’t control. And we, the audience, are the real winners, because over and above the lessons learned by the characters, we know infinitely more, because we know the characters “from the inside-out”.

So you get to benefit from all that Riley’s parents don’t see. In the end –

*** SPOILER ALERT ***

though they are all feeling regret about their move, they do not “make it all better” by going back to Minnesota. Riley misses her friends in the movie, and at movie’s end, she’s still missing them. The furniture still hasn’t come. Dad is still working long hours trying to get his new company off the ground. We have no assurance that things will be roses going forward. But we do know this:

*** SPOILER OVER ***

Riley grows. Through her sadness, she eventually experiences Joy. (And kudos to the producers for not calling that emotion “Happiness”). Riley becomes more fully alive. As sad as it is to see a happy little girl go through that, is there any truer way to tell the story?

To me, that’s the takeaway from this film: when joy manifests itself (kids are smiling, happy, playing contentedly), it doesn’t mean that sadness, fear, disgust, and anger are absent, or don’t have the potential to step on stage. And those not-joy emotions aren’t “bad” or even inappropriate. They are human.

Sometimes we oversimplify emotions by just telling people to “put on a happy face”. Or we think if we’re healthy, we won’t ever get angry. To be sure, anger is upsetting, and often a sign that something needs to be changed, but upset is a part of life. When we impose this on kids, either because we want them not to pout, or not to fight with one another, or not to complain or cry, we are pressing them into a mold that isn’t real. In fact, in Inside Out, we find that Sadness is necessary for Riley to experience Joy.

Our world worships happiness, so much so that when someone isn’t happy, it’s naturally assumed that they should take the quickest possible route back to happiness. But is that really what we want to teach our kids – make yourself happy, no matter the price? Think about where that could drive kids. The happiness rat race is no place to live. Either you’re constantly anxious that you don’t have happiness, or you’re constantly anxious that you’ll lose what you have.

Much better to help kids live to be who they are – which is a fully-orbed human who experiences the full range of emotions. Inside Out contains the powerful message that we are each more than meets the eye, and that even the “bad” emotions are not abnormal or something to be suppressed or wished away. It’s a much more realistic picture of life as a journey of growth, rather than the endless pursuit of thrill.

Can Good Kids Believe the Gospel?

Throughout the spring, I've been looking at the question, "What is the gospel?" It is not a you-can-do-it pep talk or the power of positive thinking. It's not character education, and it's not behavioral engineering. Instead, the gospel is a statement about spiritual realities: God is reconciling the whole world to himself through the forgiveness of sins, which was accomplished by the death and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ.

All of that requires belief: belief in spiritual things, like God and heaven and sin, but also the belief that appropriates God's saving power. As I noted in the first post of this series, the gospel is really quite "un-believeable". Which led me, as I prepared to teach Kindergarteners the story of Adam and Eve and the snake this weekend, to wonder whether it's something Good Kids can even believe?

To believe John 3:16 - that God so loved the world, he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life - is to believe not just something about God - that he is "mighty to save" - but about myself - that I actually need saving and that I cannot do this myself.

It's one thing to believe that God can save people - people who are bad, like Paul who killed Christians. It's another to believe he must save them...or they won't be saved. "God turned the life of that convicted criminal around" is something we can all celebrate. But "God turned me around" requires humility. I am admitting that I didn't have it all together and was receiving something I wasn't worthy of.

Can Good Kids believe this? We want kids to grow up Good, and they know it. Being branded "Bad" in elementary school is like the kiss of death. Everyone wants to be a Good Kid - at the very least, it keeps you out of the spotlight or the principal's office or the doghouse. At best, it props up your sense of worth - "You're a Good Boy!" - garners praise - "You were Good in the grocery store." - or brings rewards - "If you're Good, we'll go to the movie."

What does it mean, then, for kids to hear that humans are sinful? Does it even compute? Bonnie Miller McLemore, in her book Let the Children Come, traces the evolution of thought regarding children and their nature and capabilities. She identifies that in contrast to ancient times, when kids were believed to be hopelessly depraved, in modern times we have subscribed to a belief in the perfectibility of children. If we nurture them just right, they'll not only turn out ok, they'll be exemplary. (Think of Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon, where all of the children were "above average".) If we believe this about kids, and kids internalize that belief, how relevant is "sin" as a concept? Does it make sense to speak of misconduct or maladjustment as anything more than regrettable errors which could have been avoided?

The very fact of sin, and its strength and ubiquity, makes grace a necessity. It doesn't obligate God to act graciously toward us, but it does mean that if God is going to show us favor, there can't be any other way. None of the contemporary matras of childhood:

• "You can do it!"
• "Try again!"
• "You'll get it!"
• "Practice makes perfect!"
• "Deep down inside, if you want it bad enough and believe it, you can achieve it!"

fit the grace equation. So as much as we want kids to grow up Good, to do Good and to be Good, I wonder if those expectations conspire against kids' belief in the gospel of grace?

Or can we somehow separate the attainment of goodness from radical individualism? Of course God wants us to be Good, because he is Good. But it's his Goodness that he wants us to assume. It's a partnership. That's a far cry from a Goodness that's birthed from inside ourselves. Jesus told his disciples, "I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing." (John 15:5)

Do you believe that? Do you teach it? Do kids believe it? More importantly, can they?

We Need to Ask a Better Question

[re-posted from www.whatdidyoulearntoday.net]

It's natural that after an hour away from your kid at church, you would ask, "What did you learn about today?" or "What did you do?" And if that question is working for you - drawing a meaningful response from your kid and launching a dialogue on the things of God - by all means, keep asking it.

But if "What did you learn today?" isn't working so well, I have a suggestion:

Stop asking, "What did you learn today?"

Bold, I know.

There's no harm in asking The Question, I suppose, except that it leads to discouragement for parents: Why aren't they getting anything out of this? Are they not listening, or misbehaving in class? What's going on in this program anyhow? Should we look for another church?

And it's not just parents who aren't well served by that question.

I wonder what it does to kids' confidence in their own abilities to articulate ideas and talk about meaningful, personal things like their own spiritual lives when they are repeatedly asked a lead-in question that's difficult to answer?

We already know that the older kids get, the less willing they become to talk about their inner lives and beliefs. That's because they fear being embarrassed or patronized by adults. We all want kids to share with us their thoughts and questions about God, but we're not going to get there unless we ask a better lead-in question.

God and Camo

“God is like camouflage,” announced my four-year-old nephew to his mom while jumping on the backyard trampoline, “because he’s everywhere, but you can’t see him.”

God is everywhere. But you can’t see him. Kind of like camouflage.

He is four.

Note that his observation didn’t come in response to a grown-up asking, “What did you learn today?” It popped out, totally unsolicited, while he was jumping on the trampoline.

So let’s acknowledge a few things. First, kids have thoughts about God. Deep, meaningful thoughts about him. They probably don’t think about things they can see and touch in the same way as they think about God. The very fact that God is invisible and somewhat mysterious actually makes him a greater object of curiosity.

Second, because God is not an object to be examined, thoughts about him can pop up in the most unlikely places – car rides, the grocery store, the bathroom, on a trampoline. Science museums can cause kids to think about bugs. Aquariums can draw their attention to sea life.  Books contain familiar and favorite stories.

But where do we take kids to think about God? In the coming weeks, we'll explore this question, because it's part of solving a larger mystery, which is how to talk with kids about God. It's not a science, it's an art. But it can be learned.

The Wisest Thing a 15-year-old Ever Said to Me

C.S. Lewis wrote this about our choices:

“[E]very time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different than it was before... All your life long you are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself."

I was reminded of this at the National Day of Prayer observance last Thursday by a speaker...who was an 18-year-old student from Carlsbad High School. Young people get wisdom.

Now try this one: Speaking about the difficulty of living a life that consistently honors God, a 15-year-old high school student said to me, "I think of it this way: It's like becoming a Christian is one decision for Jesus, but living as a Christian is a million decisions for Jesus."

"Becoming a Christian is one decision for Jesus, but living as a Christian is a million decisions for Jesus."

This well-spoken nugget of truth is loaded with implications. The main one is that our job is not to teach kids how to follow directions, but to train them in how to make decisions.

Every Christian parent hopes their child will one day make a decision for Jesus - the big "D" decision, the one that they'll look back on all their life and say, "That's the day I gave my life to Him." Some people scoff at childhood conversions. "They're just doing it to please their parents," they'll say, or, "They don't really know what they're doing." Others spiritualize it: "God can use anything", while still others fatalize: "You never know - one day they might look back and it'll all make sense."

Without making a blanket statement that children's responses to the gospel either are or are not real, I think we can safely agree that no one wants empty decisions for Christ or decisions that are made under duress. Of course we want kids to understand what it means to turn over all of who they were, are, and will be to God for his direction and care. The question then becomes, how can a kid possibly make a decision of that magnitude (the big "D" decision) if they have no experience making decisions in any other part of their life? It's unlikely that when it comes to living a Christian life - the million decisions for Jesus-thing - kids will be successful if they are unpracticed at making simple, everyday decisions in their own lives.

So - give kids the freedom to make decisions. Lots of them. Life is loaded with choices, and we don't do kids favors when we unnecessarily short-circuit the process by always deciding things for them. Self-mastery develops when kids have to do it for themselves, and one of the first things that happens is they realize there actually are choices and decisions to be made at all, about everything.

Why wouldn't we let kids choose? Time is certainly one factor. Kids don't always choose quickly! But I would suggest that what's happening during those looong waiting periods as kids make up their minds is really valuable. Kids' minds are being stretched, to weigh options and foresee consequences, and that's a "mental muscle" that has to develop for moral decision making.

The other danger, of course, is that kids will make the wrong choice! But would you rather have kids make a bad choice when they're 5, or when they're 15? Or even 25? Usually the older we are, the more painful the consequences of a bad choice, because more is at stake. If you give your kid lots of experience at making decisions when the outcome doesn't matter much, the chances are better that they'll make a great decision when the outcome matters a lot.

I love watching families approach our check-in areas on Sunday mornings. Some parents allow and even encourage their kids to enter their phone number on the keypad. And you know what? The kids sometimes make mistakes. They miss a number. They forget their phone number. We have to start over. And - it's fine. Eventually we get the right combination, and we hand them their sticky nametag, and they smile. The world just became one step more accessible to them.

The freedom to make choices is messy. Sometimes kids do choose wrong. But sometimes adults choose wrong, too. Still, God grants us all the freedom to learn and grow and make mistakes, in the hope that we will eventually discover how good and right and satisfying it is to choose Christ - not just once, but in the million decisions of everyday life.

The Battle for Your Son's Mind

The setting was 4th-6th grade summer camp last year. A breakout session for boys only. The discussion centered on believing the truth - about yourself, about God, about the world - and living according to it. I threw out the question, "Who here gets trapped in your thoughts sometimes?" And I couldn't believe the response.

Nearly every hand went up. I was expecting at least a few of these kids to relate to the idea that you can get locked in a negative thinking cycle. Turns out most of them knew exactly what I was talking about.

It reminded me that kids - even kids - carry around powerful self-perceptions that shape what they will and won't try, and therefore what they will and won't achieve. And that these image issues don't spring to life once a boy hits adulthood. They are deeply rooted. Girls also suffer from self-image problems, most of which stem from the cruel and unrealistic messages our culture sends about ideal body size and shape. But this week's post is about boys and how the tendency to get trapped in their own thoughts deserves our attention and care.

John Eldredge, in his book Wild at Heart refers to "the Wound" - the message, sometimes explicitly spoken, sometimes implied - that deflates a boy's self-confidence, causing him to question whether he is, or ever can be, a man. "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me." Yes, except that the paradox is that once a boy takes a negative message in, it has nowhere to go - because boys are culturally conditioned not to talk about it! We assume girls are more emotional because when they're upset, they'll express it, and you'll know. But what if the negative emotion isn't allowed out? Does it just disintegrate? Or does it fester, fueling self-doubt, shame, and inferiority?

Releasing what's inside and talking about what's bothering them might be perceived as weakness, but it's really the medicine that will make them strong. First, because it requires courage, and secondly, because it brings the lie into the light: Lie, meet reality check. On the other hand, the longer that negative message stays inside, the more it gets rehearsed: I'm bad. I'm stupid. I'm ugly. I'm not _________ enough.

The fact that boys, even young boys, can harbor seeds of crippling self-doubt serves to remind us:

1. Kids have deeper inner lives than we give them credit for. As soon as kids stop exploring the world just by their senses, as a baby does, and start using language, they start storing memories away, memories that are laden with emotion. They develop concepts of how the world works and how it ought to work and who they are in it. We have to respect these inner lives, because they are the garment of the soul.

2. They need to be affirmed by us - often. A negative message will reverberate. A positive message needs to be reinforced. Why? Could it be the stain of sin in the world, that we are inclined - "tilted" - toward believing the worst about ourselves? Search Institute says all adolescents are asking three basic questions: Am I competent? Am I normal? Am I loveable and loving? I would suggest that it's never too early to begin affirming your son in these areas.

To be clear: I am not advocating false praise, nor am I suggesting that you delude him into self-centeredness. Everyone should hold a sane estimation of themselves (Romans 12:3) and everyone deserves the mirror of truth. But be aware that he's hard on himself, so criticism probably isn't news to him. Be gentle in correction. In contrast - "You're good at that." "That was a kind thing to do." "I'm glad your my son." "I'm proud of you." - are all messages he needs to hear.

3. Your son is thinking things he's not telling you... And he probably won't. Chock up the mystery that is your son's behavior to these things, but don't assume he's being secretive or rebellious in not baring his soul to you.

4. ...often because he doesn't have the language to express it. Boys know when something's wrong, and you might know something's wrong, but they can't always put their finger on it. They might be able to trace back to what happened - a fight, a bad grade, an embarrassment - but they can't articulate how it makes them feel. So they're trapped in a negative emotion, but it's unprocessed. And no one likes negative people, so he might be socially conditioned to "put on a happy face". That's strike two, because the crisis gets buried, unresolved.

5. You can help him develop an emotional vocabulary. Start with the emotions that aren't his, because it's hard to coach someone when they're in a state of fear, or upset. We're thinking with the non-rational part of our brain at times like those, so that's a time to empathize and be with them in their pain, not to try to have them analyze their way out of it. As you see emotions expressed, in everyday life or on TV, give them names: "That boy is sad. What do you think made him sad?" "That girl looks like she's frustrated. Things didn't go her way." "That was a generous thing to do." "Those kids in line are waiting patiently." Develop his powers of observation, because being able to read other people's emotions based on body language and facial expression improves communication skills, making it less likely that a message given to him about his own competence or efforts will be mis-read.

6. He probably has questions about sex. Answer them. If it hasn't happened yet, your boy will one day be curious and wonder about sex. Why? Because he's a boy. And Google is not a great place for him to take his questions. God's Design for Sex is an excellent resource, but use anything to get this subject on the table. Don't send either the message that sex is bad, and it's shameful to talk about, or that sex is rare and not to be talked about at all. You know how saturated our culture is with sexual imagery; get ahead of the curve on this one.

7. "Emotionally strong" is a myth. We assume that emotional strength = being unflappable. In fact, emotional health is not the ability to block out all emotions, feeling nothing (because what a great husband that would make, right?). Emotional health is the ability to experience the broad range of human emotions yet not be tyrannized by them. Is it weak for a boy to talk about disappointments, heartaches, or feelings of inferiority? Not if it gives him the opportunity to hear the truth about himself and believe it.

And that became a bottom line message in that camp breakout session, which was a session on ... "Becoming a Man of God". That's right - it wasn't about wilderness survival, how to fix a flat tire, or how to dominate the competition. It was all about avoiding the punishing negativity trap that lurked in their minds.

What wrong ideas about themselves are your kids carrying around?