As a pastor’s wife and a mother of three, I am more conscious than the average church-goer of my children’s behavior. As much as I adore our congregation, there remains the stereotypical notion that the pastor’s children are eyed more keenly than others.
You can imagine my horror when I walked into the sanctuary one Sunday morning to find all three of my children leaping over the tops of the pews, rapidly (and noisily) jumping from one to the next, getting closer and closer to the front.
Being the refined, etiquette-conscious woman that I am, I started shouting from the back of the church, “Stop it! You can’t do that! Get down from there!” But they were oblivious. I made a beeline for the front of the church, pointing at and scolding each one as I passed them, finally stopping with my four-year-old son. I hissed a command for him to come to me, and of course he just giggled.
Eventually he woke up to the seriousness in my tone and decided to humble himself. I put my arm around his shoulder and saw his bottom lip start to quiver – the first sign of repentance. I said to him calmly, but sternly, “Listen. You cannot do that. You are not allowed to jump over the pews.” He looked up at me with his puppy-dog eyes and nodded soberly. “Okay, Mom,” he said, still nodding. “But what’s a pew?”
Of course I smiled. And with the smile came the realization that I had overreacted. Again!
The same sin in my heart manifests itself in a myriad of different masks. But the substance from which the masks are formed is the same. They are all molded from a plaster called pride. I want others to think well of me, to be impressed with my parenting skills, to compliment my children's behavior, obedience, and sweet countenances.
How many times have I scolded my nine-year-old because his shirt was not tucked in, or reprimanded my four-year-old for not wiping the toothpaste off his face like I asked him to? Tidy appearances and personal hygiene are not inherently wrong or unbiblical, but what is my motive for such standards? Truthfully, it’s to make a good impression on others. At its root is the desire to please people.
If my daughter is desperate to go to church so she can learn more about Jesus, does God care whether her socks match? 1 Samuel 16:7 says, “People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”
Pastor’s wife or not, my concern should not be first and foremost what the congregation members think of me or my children, so long as my heart is right with God. Biblically speaking, I shouldn’t place a desire to please and impress others over and above my desire to please my King. I’ve been convicted by Gal. 1:10 – “Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?
Clearly, I still have a long way to go in this process of sanctification, for even as I was working on this article, I found myself trying to convince my six-year-old daughter that she couldn’t walk the mile to swimming lessons with her swimming cap on her head. “Why not, Mom?” she asked. “Is it because you think people will think I look silly?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted.
“I don’t care if people think I look silly,” was her nonchalant response.
I relented. Part of me was glad that I have not yet scarred her completely with my unbiblical thinking regarding image, perception, and pleasing people. Another part of me wondered how long it will take before her childlike naivety and innocence wears off and she becomes more aware of peer pressure and wanting to fit in. I have to ask myself: “How can I, as a parent, be proactive and help protect my children from succumbing to the wants of society as I am so programmed to do?”
For a start, I can ensure that they are raised with a biblical view of themselves. Each one of us is a wretched sinner, completely and utterly helpless to do or be anything good without the help of the Holy Spirit. Having said that, it’s astounding to think we have been made by God in His image. He Himself knitted us together, exactly how He wanted us to be.
If I truly believed that, I would spend far less time in front of the mirror. I would not sigh with such agitation on Sunday mornings when my kids drip syrup onto their church clothes. If I really believed that, I would happily let my daughter walk in public with a swimming cap on her head, as long as her heart is right with God.
~ By Kate Motaung
