The Heart of Tithing (and How Caedmon is a Pig)

Don't touch my strawberries!

The spring of 2004 was when I first learned about the heart of tithing. I had just graduated from college, and as a young professional recently moved home, this was a timely and powerful message.

The then-head pastor at the church I was attending (The River in San Jose) spent weeks on a sermon series in which he explained not just the necessity of tithing, but the gravity and holiness of the act. He exhorted us to give faithfully, because our monthly tithe is not just a commandment to follow, but it is communion and worship of our loving God. As an experiment, the tithing buckets by the door were whisked away, and instead, our time of tithing became incorporated into the service during the portion of worship through song. Low tables, alit with candles, were set up at various locations around the darkened auditorium, and we were invited to come and kneel before our God, bringing our humble offerings to His feet. (Much as how, perhaps, the ancient Israelites approached God's altar and offered their tithes—their tenths... minus the slaughtering of goats and rendering of fat.) It was intimate. It was so incredibly joyous. It was worship. And I grew so much more fully aware of God's goodness. Even after I moved out of my parents' home and on with my life, this experience has stayed with me.

Recently, I've been reminded of this truth and also given an added perspective on God's desire for our offerings, at the unlikely place of my dining table. 

Caedmon, like all littles, is so completely selfish and greedy. Given a bowl of strawberries, he will eat the entire thing without any awareness of those around him. Sometimes he even shows off, holding up a strawberry like a prized jewel. "Mama!" he chirps, turning his gem side to side as if to catch the light, flaunting his wealth. But if I so much as touch one of his precious morsels, he raises a loud ruckus, shaking his head and reaching for the stolen goods.

And so we've joined the chorus of baby-infested (I mean, -blessed) homes across the world. "Share," we croon and cajole. I give Caedmon his portion of strawberries and intentionally ask him to share with me. I give him as much as I know he can handle. I give to him in hopes that he will learn to give back on his own volition.

Isn't that like God and how He asks us for our first fruits?  God doesn't need my portion any more than I need strawberries from Caedmon, but I ask, because I am asking for Caedmon's good. I ask in order to condition his heart to love, to obey, to keep a loose grip on his things, to put me above his possessions... and I ask because I have another basketful of strawberries I bought just for him in the refrigerator, that I can't wait to give him.  But I must tend to his heart first. And so I keep asking. Afterall, I want him to give with a cheerful heart. 

He squawks. He usually just stuffs the fruit in his mouth before I can do anything about it and gives me a mischievous grin. Sometimes, he even opens wide his mouth to show me its contents, as if to say, "You want some? Here, come and get it!"

Tonight was another round of baby-bartering.

"Share, Caedmon." I asked him brightly. "Please." He stuffed the strawberry in his mouth and grinned.

"Caedmon, Mommy gave these to you. Can you give one to Mommy? It is kind and loving to share." Another strawberry flew into his mouth. 

"Look," I gestured to the bowl of strawberries on the table. "Mom has so many more strawberries to give you. I'm asking that you give just one."

At this, Caedmon picked up his last strawberry, and slowly brought it to my waiting mouth. "Awww," I gushed. My heart filled with warmth, and I swelled with pride. My boy was learning to love.

I brought my mouth closer to his offering, and just as I started to bite down, Caedmon yanked the strawberry back possessively so that what I got was just a sliver of fruit. He cackled and stuffed the rest of the morsel into his mouth. Tithe = 10%, right?

Yeah... we're working on it.

How to Train Your Dragon

According to the Chinese zodiac, babies born in the year of the dragon are dynamic, powerful born leaders who, on the flip side, are also feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, and insistent upon getting their way.  Such is the yin and yang of life, isn't it?  For every virtue, there is an equivalent vice, which is really just the virtue in its raw, unhoned form.  

True to his birth year, Caedmon is most definitely such a dragon.  And at 26 months, he is right on cue in reaching his terrible twos. This, coupled with three weeks in the care of overindulgent grandparents while I worked an abnormally full schedule, has resulted in Caedmon showing more of his vices than virtues.  He is, indeed, feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, insistent upon getting his way, and may I add, volatile.  He is definitely in his unhoned form.  I think if he could breathe fire, he would.  

I understand that all toddlers test their limits, but Wayne and I are also recognizing that Caedmon seems especially strong-willed.  We recognize the traits—fierce independence, a tenacious spirit, stubborn resolve, and fearless abandon.  To our chagrin, we suspect that Caedmon is simply a reflection of our strongest attributes—Wayne’s stubbornness and my passionate nature.

So then my quest is really how to train my dragon, to discipline my child.

Of course, I've done my research.  I've talked with other moms.  And naturally, me being me, I've read books.  

I am encouraged by author and theologian John Piper who recently wrote a compelling piece on his blog, exhorting parents to teach their children obedience not simply because it's commendable, but because it's imperative to their eternal well-being.  Or Ted Tripp in Shepherding a Child’s Heart or Ginger Plowman in Don’t Make Me Count to Three who teach that we must tend to the hearts of our children, where the root of the undesired action lies... yes, to use the rod, but to do so responsibly and in constant conjunction with loving communication, a solid relational foundation, and regular review of the Word which maintains that our Father desires our obedience for our GOOD.  We are to discipline our children not merely to elicit behavior modification, but to foster true character growth.  I am not just convinced, I am convicted.  There is so much I want to teach Caedmon so that he grows in the way of the Lord. 

And so I'm girded with practical advice, Biblical references, and the best of intentions... I am ready to tame this beast.  Cue heroic music.  

But then Caedmon screams while I'm checking out a book at the library.  And I feel the disdainful looks of the other moms whose children are quietly flipping through The Rainbow Fish and Amelia Bedilia (or maybe these are looks of empathy, but I'm too self-conscious to notice).  He melts into a pool at my feet while I'm trying to get to the bathroom, so that I am now shuffling and dragging a wailing toddler behind me.  He clenches his fists while his face turns red, his tantrum reaching a new decibel—all because we turned off his Veggietales.

In one fiery bellow, Caedmon has set my well-meaning plans aflame, singeing my outward confidence and my baby hairs, but not my inner resolve.  I will press on, because I believe my efforts are significant… even though the “how” in the equation is still (quite) a bit elusive.

I am heartened by the small bit of progress we’ve seen recently.  In the two weeks that summer has begun, and I have been home with Caedmon exclusively, we have made significant headway in obedience-training.  And by “training” I am really referring to myself, because I am learning to set limits for a two-year-old, to be firm with my baby, how to teach what is right and wrong, and how to administer loving discipline when he falters.  (And how to keep a straight face when he, say, draws all over himself with markers or brings me a clump of Lucy’s poo.)  This is no small feat, and just last week, I was able to change Caedmon’s diaper without his throwing a tantrum!  Get this—I said firmly to him, “Caedmon, Mommy is going to change your diaper.  I do not want you to cry or whine.  If you do, you will get a spanking.  Understand?”  To which he nodded, “Yes.”  And… he took my hand and QUIETLY and HAPPILY walked to his room.  Whoa.  I was floored, and honestly, still am a little.

Small steps.  But I’ll take small steps if they’re headed in the right direction.

Training my dragon on the obstacle course.

One of Those Days

Today was one of those days that made me want to just bury my head in the sand... and not emerge until Caedmon is in college.  He was SO cranky and whiney and clingy and threw multiple tantrums before it was even lunchtime.

I've been reading Toddlerwise, the third installment in the Babywise series by Gary Ezzo and Dr. Robert Bucknam, and in it, it said (quoting Elaine St. James from her book Simplify Your Life with Kids):

Kids who live without structure can develop behavior problems.  Frequent tantrums, whining, a disregard for rules, inappropriate or aggressive behavior, constant demands, and an inability to share are some signs that your child needs more structure (43). 

So is that what Caedmon needs?  More structure?  (Goodness, that book has a way of making me feel so guilty.)

Today I decided to introduce "Blanket Time", which is what the book suggests as one structured, controlled way for children to play on their own.  During Blanket Time, children play with toys on a blanket and should not move off of it until Mom or Dad say so.  Sounds pretty good, right?  I thought Caedmon could benefit from some Blanket Time, especially for those instances when I cannot be monitoring him, like when I'm in the shower.  (It would be an improvement upon the chairs I'm currently using to corral him in.) I laid out TWO blankets to give Caedmon more space to play, dispersed plenty of his favorite toys, and called him over cheerily, optimistically for his first try at Blanket Time.  And then this ensued:

True to his shirt, he is, indeed, crabby.

Oh, my goodness, the squalor.  That boy cried and clung to me and arched his back in defiance, because of... I don't know what.  Forget about "structured and controlled", we never even made it to the blanket.

I feel like such a failure... and it's not just because of Blanket Time.  It's because he's such a monster!

You know those babies who are angelic, sweet in nature, will smile and chuckle when you make faces at them, will snuggle your neck when you ask, "Can I hold him?"... That is NOT my son. Yes, he brings me unfathomable joy and is actually quite pleasant for much of the time (with us), but when he's upset, he's upset, and he can turn on a dime. (Where did that adage come from anyway?)

No, it's not just Blanket Time, but it's in seeing how willful and disobedient and defiant and prone to tantrums Caedmon can be and often is that makes me feel like I must be doing something sorely wrong here.  I realize Caedmon is just 15 months... is this just the way of a young toddler?  But it's also his sin nature that is already so evident and strong in him that alarms me so.  And even more, I'm discouraged by my own inadequacy to correct and nurture and tame this beast.  How am I supposed to do it all?

I know the answer... and that is that I CAN'T do it, which is why I NEED to rely on God's grace and provision.  And while this really should be a relief and the solace I seek, it's hard to feel better when I'm still standing at the base of the most treacherous peak I've ever been asked to conquer.

Trust God.  Surrender to God.  Do my best with what God has given.  That's all I can do, and it's all that is asked of me... I want Caedmon to know God and follow His will and heart... I want Caedmon to have a strong character and obey and respect us.  I want him to be good and do good, not just for the sake of being good, but because it will be a reflection of his heart condition.  I want him to be compassionate, generous, and bold.  I want all these things for Caedmon... and yet right now he seems SO far from that... and I am so far from being the mom to guide him along that path. (And the truth is, I may do all the right things with Caedmon, and he STILL may remain a monster.  And I need to accept and be content with whatever God has for him... may it be monster status and all... though right now, that's very hard to embrace.)

Trust God.  Surrender to God.  Do my best.  sigh... one foot in front of the other.  Tomorrow is a new day. Time to dig my head out of the sand and be renewed and start anew.

"Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You.  Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life."  Psalm 143:8