time goes flying

correction isn't defeat, it's the speed of breakthrough

Teaching kids independence in the kitchen is dangerous because they do...things. (So many things.)

"Make sure you put your knife in the sink," I told Kav when he finished making his toast.

"I didn't use a knife! I spread the butter with my fingers." Groan.

"So you have butter on your fingers?"

"No, I licked 'em." Right, perfect solution. Wince, shudder.

It won't always be like this; some day soon I won't even have to remind him to wash his hands. But now, at six, the basics still need to be covered (a lot). We have older kids who graduated from this phase to eventually making artisan breads and fancy desserts, so this is just part of the process.

Not everyone goes through the process the same way, or at all. Kav quietly asked me again today why Reagan is still in first grade math, and I explained that her brain doesn't work the same as most people's. This is a conversation we resume every once in a while; he doesn't understand why she is so different, and to be honest, sometimes I don't either. Seems like the closer we are to some situations, the less we understand them.

But he has noticed that he’s almost caught up to her in math and that she's doing the same level she was last year. He helps in the kitchen, but she doesn't. He doesn't need help in the bathroom, but she does.

Time has passed, and they are moving at different speeds.

And that's true of all of us to some extent, and our personal "speed" hinges greatly on many things out of our control. But it's also impacted by one thing that is squarely in our court: our level of surrender.

Recently I went through a one-two punch of frustration with a couple of our kids who publicly did something they shouldn't have – actions that looked good on the surface to those who don't know them well, but to their parents, who do know them well, they revealed major heart issues that were still alarmingly unresolved. And I grieved over them, over all the implications, over the frustration that they probably didn't even recognize what they were doing.

But then the Lord showed me how I did similar things when I didn't understand them either, and He walked me through to remove the logs in my own eye. It wasn't a long, arduous process (the Lord's healing often moves at the speed of thought) but it left me with peace. Still grieving, yes, but the grief was sanctified, made holy, sort of like in 1 Thessalonians 4:13 where it says we do not grieve as those without hope. That scripture is specifically talking about grieving those who have died, but we can grieve many other things that need hope for resurrection, too.

Because if I can see Him actively doing the work in me, I can trust He's doing work I can't see in my kids, too.

I was scrolling through sermon notes from a while back, and found these: Correction is to guide us to promotion. The proper response to revelation is to rejoice – not to feel shame, or regret, or pride ("I should've known that"), not feeling behind or emphasizing lack.

Responding to correction with joy requires a level of maturity that we must surrender our way to.

It doesn't come naturally or easily; we can be corrected without actually experiencing correction, and usually our own stubbornness, pride, or immaturity is to blame. Time will pass, but without surrender, we slog on at a slower pace.

Also in my notes: Insecurity is wrong security revealed. It exposes where we've misplaced our trust or identity. Then a scribbled reference to Nehemiah 8:9-12. Oh, yes – when Ezra read the book of the law, and the people finally understood clearly, but their initial response was grief because they saw the distance between what things were and what they were supposed to be.

But no, Ezra told them, rejoice, because this is growth. This is good. This is victory, right here, recognizing the distance because now you are aware and you can do something about it. This correction and conviction isn't defeat; it's breakthrough.

And if we can see it as breakthrough, we will move forward faster, too. Because maturity and surrender are the speed of breakthrough.

Time keeps passing and someday it may seem like we didn't have enough of it. Surrender is the best stewardship; it lets us squeeze everything possible out of these years, regardless of everything else that's out of our control.

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