As a general parenting rule, I encourage my children to get along. As entertaining as running my very own Fight Club may be, my sanity requires Fric and Frac to, at the very least, be civil to one another.
For the most part they comply without my having to knock their heads together. But there are moments when I’m tempted to stick them in a small room together, lock the door and see who emerges victorious. My Darwinian instincts will one day land me in a boatload of trouble I am sure.
Earlier this week my kids tested my instincts. Doors were slammed, voices were raised and tempers were heated. I was mystified to what the latest brouhaha was all about. Since I’m not one to let these things take their natural course and let them pass on their own (read: I was about to lose hearing in my good ear from all the shouting), I asked what was going on.
“Fric thinks she is better than me!”
“Frac is a moron!”
Read those two sentences simultaneously and imagine two blonde teenagers yelling them in my face at the same time.
I forgot the cardinal-parenting rule about ‘one at a time.’ It took a few minutes but eventually I was able to get to the root of the problem. While the two kids were out building rafts to sail on the giant slough on the back of our property, they started talking about their dead little brother which morphed into a conversation about heaven which then turned into a giant argument about Christianity.
“Frac says he doesn’t believe in God!”
“Fric thinks she’s better than me because she is saved!”
There are moments when I’m wholly unprepared to be the sole parent on duty. This was one such moment. It’s not like we have never talked about God and Christianity and spirituality in general. The months directly after Shale’s passing, we spoke of little else. Mostly, since the kids were only 9 and 8 at the time, we talked about what happens when someone dies. Where they go. Does God really exist?
I’ll admit my husband was much better at this aspect of parenting than I was. He was raised a Christian and finds comfort in his beliefs and has no problem explaining or defending them.
But I came late to the Christian game, as I was raised in a largely agnostic home. One parent was a quiet believer and the other was a quiet atheist. There wasn’t much talk about God or spirituality at all in my childhood home and it wasn’t until years into my marriage that I found myself calling myself a Christian.
My fledgling faith took a beating when my son unexpectedly passed away. I found no peace or solace with my beliefs and I was mired in a game of ‘what if’. It was hard to reckon a merciful God with the reality that my son died a painful albeit swift death for no discernable reason. (His coroner was unable to find cause of death and his autopsy was a complete failure.)
Our community did little to help resolve my grief and my pain. More often than not I found their religious platitudes and pithy well-meaning words to be annoying or insensitive. I was pissed at God and I wasn’t in a place to forgive Him for taking my son away from me.
Apparently, my son is struggling with the same issues. While I still grapple with my faith, not prepared to give it up completely yet not ready to accept it completely either, my son has abandoned all pretenses and refuses to contemplate any sort of spirituality.
My daughter finds this wholly unacceptable as, much like her father and her extended family, she has wrapped herself up in her faith and finds great comfort and joy in it.
Which of course, led to raised voices and heated arguing and both of them looking to me to resolve the debate. It was as if they both think I know everything. I guess they haven’t hit the teenaged stage where they think their parents are dumb as rocks.
The problem is, I can’t resolve this issue for them. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my daughter’s faith and I certainly don’t want to do anything to drive my son further away from it. But at this moment in my life, I can’t honestly encourage a belief in God when I’m not sure I have any myself.
Between my son’s death, my other son’s violent past and now, more recently, that which I am prohibited from blogging about I’m having a really hard time jumping from the Christian ship while flipping my saviour the bird.
The blanket of faith I once wrapped around myself is now shredded and tattered and threatening to fall apart completely. I’m too busy trying to mend these rips myself that I find myself unable to sew together my son’s struggles.
It boils down to I’m still angry. I’m still hurt. And those two things alone can undermine the strongest faith. Add to the mix scientific rational and let’s just say, I’m pretty sure Saint Peter won’t let me pass through the pearly gates anytime soon.
Well meaning people have tried to help minister to my shaky faith. But when I hear all the platitudes and promises, all the “God only gives you what you can handle” phrases, I want to kick them. How can I explain to my son how God thought he was strong enough to lose his brother, or how Jumby was obviously strong enough to be saddled with enduring hardship due to torture?
Why are some children born disabled when others are not? Why do some people get brutalized and others not? Why did I lose my child when you still have yours? I have no answers to any of these questions but that doesn’t stop them from rattling around in my brain.
For the most part, I try not to dwell on the whys, and I focus my energy into the joys my life is enriched with. But I grapple with my fears and lack of faith every day. The truth is, I have no answers. I ping pong around spirituality in a way that must give Jesus Himself a headache.
If it weren’t for the pressing sentimental need to know I’ll see my son again one day in the after life, I’d likely throw my bible away and fornicate with Santa Clause. But there are some nights when the grief is so raw and consuming the only thing that keeps me from jumping off a ledge somewhere is the idea of being reunited with my child. I can’t deny the comfort that idea of faith has brought me.
With my children waiting for me to impart lasting words of knowledge and to side with one or the other, I floundered.
I looked them square in the eyes and told them, “That’s enough. Neither of you are completely right, so stop fighting.”
The squawking resumed full force. Apparently my children didn’t like the kernel of wisdom I had just imparted.
So I did the only thing I knew to do.
I called their father and handed them the phone.
My faith in his parenting abilities was the only thing I believed in at that moment.
I only wish I could resolve my own spiritual problems so easily.
DM
I’ll start by saying I have no answers for you. I adopted my daughter from foster care at the age of 8 and one of her first questions was why did God allow her life to be like it was for 8 years. I have no answer.
I can’t really condense my beliefs here in a note, but I do believe in God, even thought I also question why and how.
LB
I just started reading your blog, but I’ve been at it for hours trying to catch up. You’ve been through hell and back, girlfriend! Even God Himself would probably not admonish you for having your doubts. Your kids seem bright enough to figure it out on their own. I think I’d have to refuse to referee that conversation. Let ‘em take it outside!
I, too, grew up in a family that was agnostic, and have only recently begun to call myself a Christian. My dad “claimed” to be Catholic, and my mom “claimed” to be Presbyterian. I don’t remember us ever going to church as a family or ever discussing God. Ever. Consequently, I’ve tried my best to ensure my kids don’t doubt. At least as a result of my doings.
Mrs. Scnmitty
I have no answers. I too fight with my beliefs for my own reasons. I just read Jumby’s story for the first time. Your boy is a true miracle. A true hero. I weep as I write this because of his pain but also because I know he will now forever be taken care of. I am so happy you found each other .
Audubon Ron
I suppose I’m comment 64, buried way deep in the stack of mail. Let me take a shot at this. I am a born again believer. It happened when I was well in age. I immersed myself in all things bible and religion and became a church nomad. Now, I have no use for religion or the religious and I also get exasperated with the rag-tag cliché’s the Christian militia propaganda machine issues without thought or the slightest of consideration. Some of the TV evangelists have clearly lost their mind. Jesus was falsely accused and sentenced by his own people, had his skin ripped off with a cat o’ nine tails, drug his own death instrument up a hill, was nailed to a cross and left to die an unbelievably excruciating death by internal bleeding and suffocation. Who am I to come close to having any answers? I look forward to the day when I pass over and I can sit with God and ask these questions. God, what was all that over there about?
I’m sorry Tanis, I have no clue. I’m sorry. I pray every morning, pretty much, in quiet on the back porch. I continue in faith b/c I also know I’m God’s child now, I belong to Him.
Stone Fox
i’m late to the party, as usual.
you have had a lifetime of pain in the first 30 (ish) years; if there is a god, and he’s all they claim he is, then st. peter’s definitely gonna open those gates for you.
as for your kids, well.. i have been a non-god-believing buddhist for a while and i sure do get tired of being thought of as ignorant because i don’t fall all over myself about this notion of an omniscient, all-powerful god. this argument between your kids is the first of many (spoken as a someone with two christian sibs, one of whom was angling for the title of Most Severe Christian for a while). i don’t think it’s important to settle who is right and who is wrong; what’s important is that they learn to respect each others views without having a cage match every time the subject is brought up.
did you sign up for this? i didn’t. i signed up for the nice, well-behaved, clean kids who DIDN’T fight, pick their noses, or touch and/or break everything i own.
i think i got hosed.
Out-Numbered
I just spent a week out in Lake Tahoe. It’s hard to look around that place and think there’s no God. There has to be some sort of higher power. Without my God, I’d be fucked. Doing it all on my own would seem like an impossible task. Just ask them what makes the sun come up. It doesn’t happen on it’s own. I think most people think of God as that old dude with a white beard and a large walking stick but I just picture him as the spirit of all things. We live through his will if we turn ourselves over to him. What he has planned for us is a different story. I think…
Jen
If there’s a god out there or a something out there, it’s bigger and more than we can understand with our beliefs about the world and how it runs.
So, while I like the comfort of thinking of an all-knowing something that loves all of us, no matter what…well, I also think that we’ll never be able to even conceive of its ways, how it operates, why horrifying things happen. We’ll also never know, in this life, what’s beyond, so we can mostly believe whatever we want!
Huh. Not too argument settle-y, eh?
Ellen
Hi! I’ve been reading for quite a long time but never commented. I want to add a small thought. People with the strongest of faiths did not get there without questioning. How can you grow and learn more without searching?
Mama to the crew
The western view of God often leads to a crisis of faith when really bad things happen to us or our loved ones. In the west, the only attribute of God we usually hear about is His loving nature. Hardly a pulpit teaches/preaches on all His other attributes. And I am afraid that is why most Christians can only come up with useless pithy sayings when a friend is going through terrible trials. Because of this lopsided view of God, we have somehow been falsely led to believe that God somehow owes mankind something. That if we only get the formula right, then God is obligated to do our bidding. I also struggled with how a loving God can not intervene to prevent horrible things from happening. However, once I had a better understanding of some more of God’s attributes (and I do not claim to know even a small fraction of God’s nature – a finite mind like mine cannot even begin to comprehend the creator of the universe who fine tunes every little detail whose odds even boggle the brightest scientific mind) my questions shifted from how could a loving God allow such suffering to how a Sovereign, Holy and Righteous God could even intervene amidst the depravity that is mankind. I thought I was a pretty good person – loving, kind and could give the coat off my back to a stranger in the winter – but I am beginning to see myself a little like God sees me – my righteousness is like filthy rags in His eyes. This is not to say that horrible and bad things happen to us because of our unrighteousness. No, not at all. God gave Adam and Eve free will and as a result of them exercising their own free will -we live in a fallen world that is so far from God’s original intent for mankind. A world that experiences unimaginable pain and suffering (a lot of times at the hands of others, but God usually gets the blame). A world where we are so far from God’s righteousness and it is unimaginable to me that God would even know my name and love me in spite of how unworthy I am. But, God in His loving kindness sends us a Holy Righteous Savior to suffer unimaginable pain at the cross in our place to take away the wrath of God, so that those who accept this gift can spend eternity in His embrace, free of any suffering and pain.
Sorry for being so long winded – I would recommend getting some reading materials on Christian Apologetics which answer the tough questions and also some reading materials from the Institute for Christian Research (the materials from brilliant Christian scientists will be comfort food to your analytical, scientific mind). Additionally, getting a good book on the attributes of God and throwing away all the taught notions of who God is and studying for yourself to know who God is by reading through the whole Bible.
I cannot begin to understand your pain – but my heart aches for you and all your family has been through. Praying that God would surround you with supernatural peace that only God can provide amidst some pretty terrible circumstances and also that He would reveal Himself to you clearly.
Mama to the crew
Sorry – I meant Institute for Creation Research!
WB Layton
This was my first time reading your blog. You’re an excellent humor writer… however, my heart felt for you as the blog progressed. I too struggle with faith (everyone does) but at the end of the day God is still there whether we believe or not. I have no words of comfort other than these… “You are now in my prayers.” God bless.
Claire Gutschow
Phew, good luck with that one. I can handle pretty much any conversation, but mention religion and my hand instinctively reaches for the wine glass. I’d have done EXACTLY the same thing and gone with the old faithful “ask your father” (not to be confused with the “who’s your father” which is reserved for another situation entirely)!
Ericka
i watch people with much greater burdens than my own take real comfort in their belief that there is a plan, a reason, for the hell that they endure, and i envy that ability to believe. i lack it, completely. if anything, i think we’re probably someone’s ant farm.
every now and then i manage to find comfort in the idea that this whole bad-things-happening-to-good-people thing is kind of like the peking effect on weather – you know, a butterfly flapping its wings in tibet leads to rain on my parade but keeps the river in kansas from flooding so maybe my car accident prevents something happening down the road that i can’t see.
i have no idea if this might help you. i’m sorry that you’re having trouble.
Jan
I really feel for you. Been there, had that. It took me years to understand what was really happening here and I came to the conclusion years too late, was that my kids were growing up and were very unsure of how to think clearly and wanted the safety net of having the only parent they trusted along for the growth spurt with them…sort of like a safety blanket.
It simply means that if you are the chosen parent, you have to endure all the trials and uncertainties of those teenage years all over again.
They really love you to want you there with them. All you can do is endure with love and understanding and hope the stage passes quickly
Heather - Notes From Lapland
Crikey, I’m not looking forward to these sorts of questions when my two get a bit older, even from the view of someone that knows exactly where she stands, I’m an atheist, this is tricky ground. I don’t want to sway my kids either way but let them have the freedom to make their own decisions.
Here’s hoping my kids don’t have such deep arguments in the future.
Sara
What a great post! I too struggle with the religion thing. Among family, it may be the safest thing to not have an opinion. To each their own. Your answer was right, nobody was wrong. I’ve lost sisters because I’m not godly enough for them, I hope this rift heals with Fric and Frac and your role may be just to cheer them on. Good luck!
JeannieG
For me, if we look to life’s circumstances and the evil that happens, we definitely will find it overwhelming and easy to dismiss God. However, we can also look to the beauty and joy of the earth and the beauty and the joy of who God says He is. Then we can find a way to believe. It depends how you want to see things, not so much on how they are. There is lots of good as well as the bad. What does that say about God, indeed? God does not provide all answers, but He has given us enough to go on if we seek it out. Truly. And not just by going on our feelings either but truly seeking out the truth about humanity, the earth and God.
Jamie
You’ve inspired a post for me to write. I hope you have time to check it out!
http://aeverydayblessedsoandso.blogspot.com/2010/07/finally-some-inspiration.html
Jamie
My comment would be far to long to write here which is why it turned into a post of it’s own…..
Queen of the Click
I’m going to add me 2 cents here….just because I have had a similar experience.
My brother died when I was young. He was seven.
My father abandoned his faith. My mother still hung to it, but questioned the same things you are questioning above.
I turned away from God for many years. But God didn’t abandon me. He stuck with me as I shunned his existence and a church in which I found a lot of fault. After many years and some life changing events, I found my way back to God.
God holds on tight to families like ours. Even when it doesn’t feel like it, He’s there. Don’t worry so much – and your son will come around when it’s the right time.