On Genesis 45-50 (Wut?)

I started following The Progressive Christian alliance on Facebook, not because I’m a Christian or any of that but because I do dig Christ. Plus, I was kicked out of The Christian Left (too long, don’t ask), so I felt like joining this other group was the next best thing.

Yesterday the admin posted this, taken from a member’s status:

Genesis 45-50 today. What stands out to me is the power of blessing your children, a practice these earlier followers of God had. It is portrayed as almost prophetic. I wonder — isn’t it? Don’t the words, positive or negative, that we speak over our children shape their whole lives? Can they not kill their spirit, or give them life? Can they not rob them of confidence, self-image, or grant them the courage to be? In truth, the counselling classes I am taking are largely aimed at learning how to help others be set free from words spoken over them as children by parents and peers, words that brought death, and learning to speak over themselves words that bring life. Let us learn from this. Let us learn not to speak death over the next generation. Let us learn to speak words of blessing to our children, to our grand-children, to our nieces and nephews, and to the children in the villages of our communities and houses of worship. Let us remember to use our words to bring life to the next generation.

I needed to hear that. I’d been berating the Kaiser for coming home from school most every day with a yellow or orange card. Green means good behavior, eh? Then there’s yellow, then there’s orange, then red, then blue (which is a straight referral to the Principal’s office). We’ve had a few reds.

I’m on the kid all the time about listening, about being respectful, being kind. I’m riding his ass constantly, reminding him that being kind in part means keeping your mouth shut when someone else is talking. Particularly when that someone else is your teacher. This is all true, but nothing I’ve tried has worked. No amount of me talking at him or taking trains or television time does a damn thing to change his behavior.

He’s had a hard time. He has a lot to say, although it doesn’t always come out at an opportune time. He’s a little self-conscious and a little insecure as he tries to find his place in his kindergarten world.

So I’m backing off. I am reminded that when children are the very least loveable is when they need love the most. Shower them with it. Pour it on. Let it flow over them without restraint and without reservation. Especially when they deserve it the least.

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Filed under Buddhism, Mindful parenting

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