Lightbulb Moments in Parenting & Life

My son looked at me with his serious face, dark eyes locked on mine. He repeated words I had just told him with a “yes ma’am” tacked on for good measure. Then, the moment they were out of his mouth, he jumped off-topic, stringing words together in a run-on sentence. “Listen to you, wait until you say so, yes ma’am, I think I know what the answer was.”

“We’re not talking about the answer right now,” I said sternly.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, forcing myself to stay calm. I was trying to help my oldest son with schoolwork while juggling other things on my to-do list. He asked me about a math problem, but instead of waiting as instructed, he guessed the answer and whined at me when he got it wrong. The whining drove me nuts, but his inability to listen was trying to push me past the edge of reason.

“When you ask for help, you have to listen to what I say. I didn’t say do it by yourself. I didn’t say guess. I just said wait. So listen to me, and when I say wait, you wait until I’m ready!” The volume of my voice rose as I explained this for the third time.

“Listen to what you’re saying, wait for you, yes ma’am, I think the answer was two.”

“Oh, my goodness!” I started to explode and then pulled myself back in control again.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, changing tactics.

“What you said,” he replied dutifully.

“I don’t think so. You repeated the words I said, but what was actually going through your head when I was talking.”

“I was thinking about the math problem I got wrong.”

“Exactly. So if you were thinking about the math problem you got wrong, then you weren’t really listening to what I was saying even if you heard the words.”

“No, ma’am.” Ah, now we were getting somewhere.

My eldest son knows how to say what I want to hear, and he learned a long time ago how to repeat me verbatim and seem like he’s paying attention. Following his parroted words with action is an entirely different story.

This moment was a lightbulb parenting moment for me, realizing that while he could rattle off whatever I said and hold a demeanor that appeared attentive and even contrite, his mind was disconnected from our conversation. No wonder it was in one ear and out the other.

With his mind off of the math problem and onto the real issue at hand, we had a calm discussion with actual listening. His changed behavior afterward was proof that he finally heard what I said, and blessedly, my sanity was still intact.

The Bible says, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable— if there is any moral excellence and if there is any praise— dwell on these things.” (Philippians 4:8 HSCB). And I have to smile at a God who knows that it’s my inclination to let such things slide right out of my head, exactly like my seven-year-old son. I can hear a message at church on Sunday morning, highlight a verse on my Bible app, or read a devotional during quiet time, but these things go in one ear and out the other if I don’t think about them afterward.

I can’t relegate God to an hour or two on a Sunday morning and assume that’s enough. Nor do I get to check a box and say that I read my Bible this morning, so I’m good to go for the rest of the day. If I’m not thinking about these true, just, God-honoring things, then I’m missing the point. God doesn’t want me to rattle off his words mindlessly; he wants them to sink in where they’ll change my heart, thoughts, and then my actions. I can repeat scripture as fast as my son can repeat my instructions, but “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength… [and] love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30-31) isn’t just a phrase to toss out, it requires my thought, my intention, and my action.

Like my son, I get it wrong a lot. I’m prone to distraction, thinking about my selfish desires, and mindlessly filling my time. Thankfully, God has a lot more patience than I typically posses.

The rest of that day, my son’s listening and behavior showed a marked difference— it was a great day for both of us. The next day, not so great. But that’s the beauty of grace, God’s mercies are new every morning, and I need just as many do-overs as my son.