Teaching Children How To Think

Growing up in our home of six children and two godly parents, I recall our dad {who was a very good life insurance salesman} mentioning on more than one occasion that people today don't know how to think.  Hence, he tried to teach his own children to think by using questions.  Whenever we would have something to discuss, particularly as he was disciplining us {I prefer to call it training us}, he would ask us questions designed to make us think.  

For instance, I recall being asked this question a lot, when Daddy, in counseling us, was trying to help us think through our misbehavior issue: "If you were a parent, and you had a child in this situation, what would you do?"  Not wanting to give a flippant answer or be untruthful {both of which he would know immediately were not good responses}, I would truly think it over and give my best answer.  Which would also help me, indeed, see the situation from his perspective, which, in turn, helped me change my undesirable behavior.  

Thus I learned early on how to ask questions.  I actually became quite curious as time went on, and often felt free to ask people in my life whatever popped into my little head.  {You should see me now - if Google were a person, he/she would be fed up with me!!!}

Daddy used to say that people generally like to talk about themselves, so it pays to be a good listener.  He was known as a good insurance man who cared and took the time to listen to his clients.  I used the "gift" of questions and listening to help folks feel at home in getting to know me.  I tried to be sensitive and not ask the wrong things, and generally I found that people feel more at ease after they've shared about themselves.  This came in handy when we entertained guests for dinner, etc., which happened a lot after I married Harold.

Also, after I married my strong, quiet husband, I learned that questions weren't always welcomed by everyone.  So I toned it down a bit, and tried to become more sensitive to people, discerning whether it was right to ask them something or not.  But there was one good use of questions that helped me "adapt" to my husband in a good way.

Harold, like a lot of men, I suppose, doesn't like to be told what to do by a domineering woman.  And I knew way before being married that a bossy wife was totally undesirable, not to mention unscriptural {Proverbs 25:24 & 21:9}.  But there are times when he needs to know my perspective on an issue or if there's something I would like for him to do.  

Enter THE QUESTION!  Couched in kind language and spoken 
in a sweet spirit.  Things like ~

"Honey, do you think you could open the shutters now?" 

"Would you like to take your fiber now or later?"

"Did you remember that the meter reader is coming today?"

"Did we pay the car insurance yet?"

"Would you like to go for a walk with me this morning?"

"Are you remembering the 10 o'clock appointment with the roofer this morning?"

A question spoken this way lets me say what I'm thinking without being pushy, because the ball is now in his court.  Sometimes it's a low-level reminder kind of thing, and sometimes it's a little weightier.  In either case, I've let him know my thoughts, and the rest is up to him.  

At first I wasn't at ease with asking him stuff like this, so I had to rehearse the question in my head several times.  But practice makes perfect, as they say, and it is second nature to me now.  And in the asking, it's like I'm letting go of my side of things for him to make the final decision.  You can't imagine the relief it gives me to know that I'm not ultimately responsible when I've turned the decision-making over to him.  Very liberating.

There are some things that a wife learns over time that her husband doesn't like to make decisions about - trivial things that he lets her decide.  Before I married, a very wise friend advised me that men who were leaders {like her husband and mine} didn't really care so much what they wore or ate, hence they were happy to let their wives make those choices for them.  I bless her for those words!  They have come in handy so many times in my marriage, and I have been thus able to relieve my husband of a few decisions in his responsibility-laden life.  So "What do you want for breakfast?" or "What do you want to wear?" are questions that almost never come out of my mouth!  He's happy to let me make those decisions.  

Also, over time, since my man got the idea that I wasn't going to boss him, I didn't necessarily have to use a question every time.  Words spoken in a gentle spirit now accomplish the same thing.

I still am curious about a lot of things, and I'm ever so glad for Mr. Google!  But before all that, I'm thankful for a dad who took the time to train his kids to think.  

But let it be the hidden person of the heart, 

with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, 
which is precious in the sight of God.
I Peter 3:4

***Remember, you are a new creature IN CHRIST, 
covered by His grace and mercy, and walk in newness of life!

Who Me? Adapt To My Husband?

Here is another post by Barbara, my mother-in-law.  This is my very favorite 
one of them all! It is a beautiful love story. I think you will enjoy it a lot also ~

Throughout my years in junior and senior high school, I was part of a Bible quiz team.  This involved many hours of Bible study and memorization, but it was competition and FUN - especially when our team won and one year, went on to the international competition!  My parents, who were behind me all the way in this endeavor, gave me a copy of the Amplified New Testament, which was to help me as I studied deeper meanings of the verses.  Little did I know how it would affect me later on in life...

When I got married, I knew I should be submissive to my husband {Eph. 5:22}.  My mom was a great model for this, and I praise God for her example, which made it easier to me.  However, one day I was reading in the Amplified version, and was surprised to discover the words "Wives, be subject {be submissive and adapt yourselves} to your own husbands as [a service] to the Lord."  Ephesians 5:22 AMP {translated from the Greek}  As a young bride with a lot of expectations, I honestly didn't think it was fair to expect me as the wife to adapt myself to my husband.  Why should I have to do all the adapting?  But there it was, in black and white, in God's Word.  And I had learned, through many years of growth in the Lord, that when God gives a command, He also gives the enabling to keep that command {"Faithful is  he who called you..." I Thess. 5:24}.  He had done that for me many times as a single person.  So why should He not do it now?  All I had to do was stick close enough to Him to receive that grace ~ the grace to adjust myself to the peculiarities of my husband.  

Adapting yourself isn't just a one-time deal and it's over.  It takes ongoing practice.  Well, here's one way it came ~

Every young woman, it seems, dreams of one day meeting her knight in shining armor, who will sweep her off her feet, tell her she's beautiful, and walk down that aisle to meet her at the altar.  I guess the fairy tales help out with the imagery, but you get the gist.  And I fell prey to that line.  Oh yes, I knew he had to be God's choice for me, but underneath it all I craved hearing someone tell me that he loved me, that I was beautiful even if only to him.

So when, at age 30, I met and married the man God chose for me, a rather handsome dude, I must say, I waited to hear those words of love from his lips.  It wasn't a prerequisite, of course, but maybe just every now and then it would have been nice.  Those words, and other terms of endearment, were few and far between.  Oh, I knew he loved me, and I Ioved him, and our marriage was solidly built on biblical principles; but I really would have liked to hear more of the mushy stuff.  

Yet I knew it wasn't my job to change him; so I began to accept, with a small degree of disappointment, the fact that my husband was the strong, silent type, not very showy with his emotions, verbal or otherwise.  I was thankful that, the week we became engaged just between us, he promised to always open doors for me as an expression of his love.  That was cool.  And he did keep his word, which spoke to me silently every time I got out of the car or entered a building with him.  I knew he loved me.  How could I not?

Thus I found myself beginning to put into practice God's "adapting" command to wives in Eph. 5:22.  And I realized that God was indeed giving me that grace He gives to follow His commands.  Not surprising, since He created the heavens with His breath {Ps. 33:6}.  He can do anything, you know.

I began to accept Harold the way he was, and God filled me with contentment.  {I've since discovered that a godly wife will need that adapting grace from time to time throughout the years of her marriage.  That's OK.  God's supply of grace is infinite.}

Fast forward almost 30 years to the day I discovered the diamond was gone from my engagement ring.  AAUUUGH!  What an awful feeling.  I felt like the lady in the Bible who looked all over for her lost coin.  Only my story had a different ending.  I searched high and low, shining a flashlight all over the carpeted floors, but found nothing.  Nada.  I did some research to see what it would cost to replace my little rock, and felt that it was too pricey to even consider.  We weren't rolling in the dough, and I didn't feel comfortable spending a lot of money on such an item.

Then I began looking into getting a faux - a cubic zirconium.  Our pastor had worked with gems and gave me some input. He said it would sparkle like a diamond but with a few more colors in it, like a rainbow. I priced it at a reliable jeweler's shop, and together my husband and I decided to go this route - soooo much cheaper.

Off to the jeweler's I went, where I had to make one more decision: did I want it cleaned up, looking "like new"?  Hey, why not, I figured.  As long as I was saving a goodly sum, and it probably needed a good cleaning anyway, what difference did ten more dollars make?  I was told when to return for the ring, and went home to wait.

The day finally came, and I drove to the jeweler's in the next town.  It was near Valentine's Day.  How appropriate, I thought with a smile.  As I slipped the ring on my finger at the counter, my eyes filled with tears.  It was SO gorgeous!  Shiny!  Sparkly!  Who could TELL it wasn't a real diamond?  Not I!!!  {The lady at the counter thought I was sad, and I quickly had to reassure her that I was totally the opposite!}

All the way home I let my left hand lift from the steering wheel to see my fake "diamond"  dance with a gazillion rays of bright California sunlight.  How fun!  I couldn't wait to show Harold!  Upon entering the kitchen at home, I called to him and flicked on the overhead lights to show off my new acquisition.  "Honey!"  I cried.  "Just look!  My ring looks just as beautiful as the day you gave it to me!"  And, without missing a beat, in his quick-thinking, quiet way, he responded, "And so are you."  {Kiss.}

Inwardly, I sensed something falling into place.  Somehow it didn't matter that, all these years, he hadn't been calling me "lovely," "beautiful," "gorgeous," or any of those other things I thought I needed to hear.  Instead, all these years, he'd been treating me as if I were beautiful ~ opening doors for me, and doing numberless other things that spoke of his love for me.  All of a sudden I didn't care anymore if he called me beautiful.  His life spoke it.  I knew it deep inside, where it matters most.  I realized that I would far and away rather have a man who doesn't necessarily call me beautiful but treats me as if I were, than to have a man who calls me all sorts of lovely things but who treats me more like dirt. 

And then it hit me ~ I had indeed adapted to my husband, at least in this issue.  And if I could do it once, why not again, and again, and.....???  Thank You, Father.  Your grace IS sufficient. {II Cor. 12:9}  And as I face the years of growing older together, I realize we will both be changing; and God will give me, out of His limitless resources in Jesus, all the adapting grace I need for each hour, each day.

I am so blessed.  God's ways are always best.  Always.      

Bringing Up The Rear

Today's post was written by Barb's youngest sister, Janis, who has a little bit 
of a different take on her upbringing than what Barb wrote about ~

For the past several weeks, youʼve been reading about how Gordon and Marian Brown raised six children to love and honor the Lord. My sister, Barb, who is the fourth in line and nine years older than me, has been sharing their strategy. Iʼm the youngest of the six and so it is only fitting that I bring up the rear in this series and tell you about their child raising from a different perspective. 

My parents were wonderful Godly people, who shared with us a heritage that my husband and I have striven to pass down to our kids, now ages 20,23, and 26. I loved them dearly and think that they were wonderful parents, however, in all honestly I must admit that I do not even remember a lot of the stories that Barbara Alexander told because I wasnʼt around when they happened. 

 By the time I came along, I think they were tired of raising kids and perhaps didnʼt implement many of those parenting strategies with me! Maybe thatʼs why my {and my husbandʼs} parenting doesnʼt look exactly like theirs. 

Iʼm not as mild-mannered and soft-spoken as my mother was. 

We werenʼt as strict with our kids as my parents were. 

We focused on quality and quantity time, not just quality as my dad espoused. 

We encourage very open communication with our kids, much more than my parents did. And my husband does definitely NOT whistle for me! 

I could probably list more, but these differences really donʼt matter because we have the same core values as my parents. The difference comes in how we apply our parenting skills. My parents raised us with core values that permeated all they did. Those core values are like the skeleton of a human body. They were the support, the basis, the foundation for how they parented. Itʼs the cover over those bones that is unique to every individual. 

Our core values {the same core values that I was raised on} are these ~ 

• God's Word is foundational to all of life and godliness

• Honor God

• Communication 

• Honesty

 • Trust 

• Unconditional Love 

Weʼve taken those same core values that resulted in raising six kids to love and honor God and weʼve adapted them to our personalities and our lifestyle. We donʼt do everything exactly like my mom and dad did. Itʼs no doubt that I see things pop up now and then that make me think, “I sound like my mom or dad!” 

But overall, our parenting has a different sort of flavor than my parentʼs generation of parents. The result? We have three amazing young adults who are deeply in love with Jesus and who want to serve Him with their whole heart. 

So the question for you as parents is, what is the skeleton of core values in your home? If you are basing your parenting strategy on God and His Word, then how you flesh out that parenting can be as unique as you are. Thereʼs a lot of parenting guru noise out there. 

Everyone has a strategy, a plan that will raise good kids. And they may offer some very good suggestions, but know this: the core values that you stand upon as a family will be the ultimate determination of what kind of adults your children will become. 

My parents have been in heaven for 15 and 23 years, and I often wonder what they would think of our parenting. However, I have a feeling that my Dad and Mom would be proud of the kids weʼve raised. And my husband and I can gratefully echo the words of my Dadʼs favorite verse: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” 3 John 4. 

Janis Meredith, youngest of six in the Brown family, is a sports mom 
and coach’s wife. She writes a sports parenting blog called JBM Thinks. 

Check out her Sports Parenting Survival Guide.

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Barbara's Parent's Marriage

This is the sixth post from Barbara, my mother-in-law, who comes from a family of six children who all grew up to walk in Truth, something that is very rare today ~

My parents were newly saved at the outset of their marriage.  My dad's upbringing was Christian, to the point where he accepted Christ at about age 13, but wandered far away until his early 20's.  My mom's home was not Christian.    Dad was brought back to the Lord through coming across an old Bible of his, where he wrote that at age 13 he "gave his heart to God."  I guess my mom followed right along, which she was good at.   

All through their marriage, as far as I could tell, she helped him become the great dad he was by being wonderfully, biblically submitted to him.  I never once heard her argue with him, or say anything cross to him.  Only once in all my years of knowing them did I ever hear Mom say anything remotely negative about Dad, and that was to murmur a complaint one day about how he whistled for her to come and she had to stop what she was doing and come see what he needed her for.  

But she always came when bidden.  And she modeled it in practical ways, such as the music played in our home.  She loved classical, but Dad didn't; so we hardly heard it played in our home.  I never heard her complain, and only found out about it years later; and her quiet model of submission strongly impacted me.  

My dad was a romantic, as I later found out after my mom died and my dad sought to remarry {He did so within a year, a good sign of a good first marriage}.  I remember Daddy walking through the kitchen and patting Mom's behind; I guess he knew that sex begins in the kitchen!  In any case, they had their share of the marriage bed with six children {and one miscarriage}.  When Daddy found a second wife, I watched him romance her, and figured that's what he'd done with Mom.  It was sweet to watch, and I got to appreciate a side of Dad I hadn't really seen.

Daddy always made sure we thanked Mom for the meals and helped out with the dishes.  Later on, he bought her a dishwasher when they became available and affordable.  In looking back, I think he wanted to make her life rearing six kids to be as easy as possible.  I have the sense throughout my childhood that Daddy made sure we held Mom in the greatest of respect; we were never allowed to speak back to her, or to him, for that matter.  

He always made sure we lived in the best home his meager income could afford: twice we lived on a lake {in Florida}, and other times not far from the beach {He loved the water, being a former lifeguard}.  I think now that it must have pleased Mom to live in a new house three times while raising children.

In one of those new houses, in muggy Miami, Florida, my parents' bedroom was the only room in the house that had an air conditioner.  As a kid it didn't phase me; but now as a married adult, I can see why they did it, for more than reasons than to just combat the warmth and humidity of the Florida air! 

In retrospect, after being married myself for 34 years, I can see that my parents wanted to please each other, and set aside special times for each other.  They loved ice cream, especially the Dairy Queen kind.  Every now and then one of them would sneak out to the DQ and bring back their treats to eat after the kids had gone to bed. {But we kids could tell by the paper cups in the garbage the next day!}  I would guess that underneath it all we kids knew this was a good thing for them to do.  They also went to the local university football home games with other adults from church.

Let thy fountain be blessed: 

and rejoice with the wife of thy youth.

Proverbs 5:18

Self~Sacrificing Parents

This is the fifth post by my mother-in-law about her upbringing in which her parents raised six children who grew up to walk in Truth ~

In looking back, I can clearly see how my parents laid down their lives for us, my Dad being the strong, quiet leader that he was.  I remember when we were adolescents and entering a world of new struggles, Daddy would have to talk with us seriously upon occasion when we went astray.  

These talks usually happened in my parents' bedroom, with the three of us {Dad, Mom, and the guilty party} sitting on or around the big bed.  We kids came to call these talks "bedrooms sessions", where Dad did most of the talking, and Mom would sit quietly by {Was she praying?  Very possibly}.  As I only remember Daddy talking, it makes me wonder if Mom ever spoke on those occasions.  But I do remember her remarking after one lengthy session {I want to say 2-3+ hours?} how Daddy was like a dishrag after it was all over, and he would just lay on the bed, exhausted.  It must have taken a lot out of him, and his youngest didn't leave the nest til he was 62!

Dad and Mom made sure we kids had transportation to the things that mattered: young people's meetings at church, an overnight with a Christian friend, Bible quizzing competitions, sports activities at the Christian schools we attended, etc.  When we lived in a town next to the one our church was in, the church activities required a bit of a drive for them.  I never heard them complain.

They also made sure to encourage us in our giftings.  I loved tinkering around on a piano whenever I got near one; but it wasn't until I was a junior in high school that I finally got lessons.  A very big memory for me is when Daddy surprised the family {mainly me and Mom, who also played} with the purchase of a piano for me to take lessons, at age 16.  

He sat me down on the bench and said, "Now Barbie-girl, I want you someday to be able to sit down her and play anything you want to."  Thanks to their sacrifice of money and time spent taking me to lessons, I can play anything I want to.  Fortunately, I love worship/church music best, and my teacher taught me with that in mind.  I have been a church pianist at 5 different churches, and loved all of it.

In the area of working with us individually, Dad took our personalities into account, even in his discipline of us.  Child number five, a girl, was a very sensitive little thing, apparently.  In any case, Daddy didn't seem to punish her as much as he had the rest of us.  Or so we thought.  We must have broached the subject with him, because we recall him saying that he didn't need to punish her very much; he only had to look at her and she cried in repentance.  A quiet model lesson to us kids of being a good parent.

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, 

that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

Romans 12:1

Biblical Foundations For Children

My mother-in-law's fourth post in a series discussing how her parents 
raised six children to walk in Truth ~

My parents taught us Biblical truths from the start, emphasizing that it was our choice to accept or reject Jesus as Savior and Lord.  We always attended a Gospel-preaching church wherever we lived, and we all made personal decisions to receive Jesus as children; my older sister was the youngest Christian of us all at age 3!!  

Daddy made sure we had Bible lessons to work on at home in addition to the teachings at church or school. We had weekly Bible verses to memorize in addition to those at church and at Christian school!  Of course we did get prizes for those extra verses.  I am ever so glad that he encouraged me to participate in Youth for Christ's Bible quizzing program.  I still, at age 65, can almost quote sections of the Bible due to the hours poured into this cause, which was primarily motivated by competition.  

If I wanted to go to summer camp, I had to memorize verses to get in free.  More of the Word into my head and heart!  Even though I may not have understood all that I memorized, it's there in my heart, and I sure understand it a whole lot more now!  {Hence I take issue with folks who say a child must understand what he/she memorizes;  if it's good stuff, they'll understand it later when they really need it, and it will stay in their heads forever!}

My dad made sure our home was filled with Christian music.  He joined a "record of the month" club back in the late 50's and 60's, and we all benefitted from listening to the constant flow into our home {and heads and hearts!} of God's truth through music.  Mom made it fun when, in one home which had an intercom, she'd wake us kids up Sunday mornings {to eat her yummy cinnamon rolls} by playing a rousing rendition of "Get Up Children" over the intercom!  To this day I thank God for this heritage in music, including the hymns.  When I have navigated extremely rough waters recently in my life, these songs ministered deeply to my soul and spirit and helped me through the trials.

On the negative side, my parents strictly limited the input of "trash" into our developing minds, i.e., no questionable radio, books, magazines, movies, TV shows etc.  I recall wanting to go to a movie with a friend, and my mom told me this story ~

     A mother was making salad for supper while her daughter was begging to go to a questionable movie with a friend.  The mother continued her chopping of vegetables, only she begin throwing the scraps into the salad bowl along with the things she'd cut for the salad. "Mother!" exclaimed the girl.  "You're putting GARBAGE in our salad!" "Well," answered her mother, "if you don't mind garbage in your mind, you won't mind it in your salad."

Thus I was encouraged to keep my mind clean and pure, and I never went to a movie until I was 30 years old!  {And even then it was seeking the mind of the Lord first. And hey, it was The Sound of Music - how bad is that??}

For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.

Hebrews 4:12

Loving Six Children

This is the third post from Barbara explaining how her parents showed loved to their six children who all walk in Truth today ~

I never felt unloved by my parents, even though back then it wasn't necessarily in vogue for them to say "I love you" ten times a day.  I didn't need the words.  Their lives spoke loud and clear.  

For many years my dad worked as an insurance salesman for a Christian insurance company.  He didn't make a lot of money.  In fact, he had a good friend, Uncle Joe* we kids called him, who at the outset of his career and family life chose making money over focusing on his family, and he lived to regret it.  

Daddy chose another route; putting his family first.  He always said that he invested in "two-legged stock," meaning not the stock market kind, but children :).  It showed, in that all six of his children are walking with the Lord, serving Him, and raising Christian families.  

With my dad's limited income, he always put food on the table and a roof over our heads, and allowed Mom to stay at home. Yet I know he sacrificed for us, sending us to Christian schools whenever he could; he even drove a school bus to contribute to the cause.  He and Mom didn't buy new clothes for themselves very often.  I recall in 6th grade shining Dad's very-worn shoes for him for 25 cents a pair.  And seeing Mom wear her old {yet pretty} dressy dress {very rarely} made me realize they didn't spend on themselves, so they could give to us.  Later my dad took a job with a Christian college, I'm sure partly to insure that we had free tuition.  Great idea.

Daddy spent time having fun with us from time to time.  The thing I remember most about that is him chasing us around the house, and tickling us to death after we got caught.  Maybe it was a form of exercise for him, but we kids loved it, of course.

*Not his real name

And above all these put on love, 

which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

Colossians 3:14

Raising Responsible Children

Here is the second installment from Barbara on raising godly children
coming from a family of six children who all walk in Truth ~

Here my oldest brother {who became a Christian college professor} 
speaks for us all ~

One of my many recollections is the training in responsibility for work.  Our parents put this into my life in several ways.  One was the assignment of regular chores, such as uprooting dandelion weeds each summer morning.  Another regular chore was mowing the yard, which Dad gladly gave to me when he discovered I was sturdy enough to push {that's right, no power mower available} the mower.

Another aspect to this responsibility was earning money and using it for good purposes. For example, after a year of pushing a mower, I decided it would be much easier to cut the grass with a power mower. "Dad, can we get a power mower?"  "Sure, son, if you line up enough lawn cutting jobs in the neighborhood to pay for the mower."  So I got a handful of neighbors to commit.  Dad accompanied me to the local appliance store where I purchased a shiny new Rocket Eclipse reel mower with a Briggs and Stratton engine. The store owner took my down payment and gave me a coupon book for the remaining 12 payments.  Each month I took my earnings, along with a payment coupon, to the store owner.

At about the age of ten, my parents learned that the local newspaper route in our neighborhood needed a delivery person.  They forthrightly volunteered me.  So for the next two years it was my daily task to bicycle local roads to deliver afternoon newspapers.  I learned the value {and freedom} of earning my own money.  I was able to buy a few wanted items with it {baseball cards, a catcher's mitt, etc.}.  But the big item I wanted was an electric train set.  When I finally had saved enough to purchase such a set, my parents {in their long-range wisdom} talked me into buying, not a train set, but a TYPEWRITER!  Though I balked inwardly at making such a purchase, I eventually appreciated the wisdom of well-placed dollars--that typewriter served me well all the way through high school and college {8 years plus}.

Without the foresight of my parents to develop in me the expectation of earning and spending money well, I probably would have a greater streak of laziness and selfishness as an adult.

In all toil there is profit, 

but mere talk tends only to poverty.

Proverbs 14:23

Six Children Raised To Serve Jesus

For the next few Saturdays, I am going to be posting writings from my mother-in-law, Barbara.  She was raised with five siblings.  All six of the children grew up to walk with Jesus.  Her parents did something right and I love learning from people like her parents.

I remember very clearly being taught to obey the first time my parents spoke.  It was considered disobedience if we hesitated or waited at all.  We all, 4 girls and 2 boys, learned early on that it didn't pay to not obey right away when told to do something.  This principle helped me years later when, as a first grade teacher, I made my students obey me the first time I spoke.  It works!  And it relieves the one in authority of so much stress! 

And for my folks, disobedience meant punishment of some sort.  Of course, since we were young when learning to obey, spanking was the most logical punishment.  I recall my dad using his hand or the belt, but I don't remember if Mom ever spanked us or if so, what she used.  I'm guessing she punished us whenever we needed it, and as we got older, the actual physical spanking was up to Dad.  All I remember is I wanted to obey my parents right away, every time.  I became a parent-pleaser.  

And I know that carries over into the spiritual realm as well; become a Father-pleaser, not to earn anything, because we can't, but to relate correctly to Him and know that He is pleased with us, even delighted with us.  Can't hardly imagine that, a God Who is actually delighted in His children! {Psalm 147:11}  

My parents created a haven of security for us by keeping their word; when they said a certain consequence would happen if we did a certain misdeed, you better believe that consequence happened!  I learned this early in my childhood {before age 7} around our huge wooden kitchen table one day as we were making sugar cookies.  Mom told me if I ate any cookie dough, that would be the end of my cookie making.  I just couldn't resist, and Mom's ever watchful eye caught me sneaking some yummy dough into my mouth.  No more cookie making for me!  

It must have made a deep impression on me, because I became a pretty obedient kid when all was said and done.  And to this day it is my desire to obey my Heavenly Father as fully as I can.  I know it doesn't earn me brownie points with God, but I know that obedience to Him brings more light to my soul, and it is easier to obey Him Whom I cannot see because I learned to obey those whom I can see, without question, early in life.  

And while enforcing obedience with our children gives them security, the opposite is true; when we are inconsistent with our enforcement of rules, we create insecure children.  I cannot resist giving an anecdote here, which I picked up somewhere in my grad studies in education, and which I shared many times with parents of the preschoolers in the school I directed.  A study made at a preschool centered on the outdoor school playground, which was surrounded by a fence.  When the children were outside playing, they could play all around the play yard within the barrier of that fence.  The researchers wanted to give the children more freedom to run and play in the grassy area outside the fenced-in yard, so they removed the fence.  They expected the children to run out into the meadow, laughing and playing and rejoicing to be freed.  But it backfired ~ the children stuck to the building and would not even go out to where the fence had been.  The researchers decided to put the fence back.  After they did, the children slowly ventured out to play in the yard again, and even up to the fence.  In my book the conclusion was clear; firm barriers foster secure children, and flimsy barriers give rise to insecurity in our children.  This helped me an awful lot in making myself enforce the rules I made in the classrooms I taught throughout my teaching years.  My experience with children has taught me that disciplining a child means disciplining myself to get up off my duff and follow through with what I said would happen.  After all, "you can't expect what you don't inspect."

The younger of my two older brothers {who became a wonderful pastor!} adds his insights to our parents' training ~

Dad would use scripture as part of the discipline {I had to write James 3:1-12 ten times to teach me to control my tongue.}

Dad would reward us for memorizing scripture {a trip to a ball game for memorizing Romans 12} and a new Bible if we could read John 1-3 without any mistakes. When we finished reading Egermeier's Bible Story Book he would give us $1.00 {in 1950's dollars!}.

Dad based his rearing/discipline of us on II Cor 5:10 ~ He would have to give an account to God someday with "what he did with the six children God gave him."

Dad would not discipline in anger ~ He would send me to my bedroom to wait my discipline fate while he cooled down.

He taught us to respect authority ~ I had to apologize to our 6'5" pastor when I talked to my friends/passed notes instead of listening when I was a child.

He let us know he loved us even when we misbehaved. As a teenager I remember Dad saying to me after having to discipline me, "Richard, you are my son, you will always be my son. I will always love you."

When I was in my 30's with children of my own, my dad told me that when they had us six kids, a common philosophy was that with a large family, if one child went bad, that wasn't a terrible percentage so concentrate on the other five and give up on the sixth one. He then said to me that if he had adopted that philosophy, I was the one he would have given up on!

The whole issue of obedience comes into play with another of my parents' good influences on us 6, having godly guests in our home.  We often had visiting speakers to our church home for dinner, or to spend a night or two.  {Don't ask me where they slept.  With eight people already in the house, I don't recall having enough bedrooms for a spare guest room!}  We would, of course, sit around the table after the meal to talk, and I remember God touching my life through at least one of these times, to convict me of sin.  But the neat thing that I recall is the preacher who was scheduled to stay at our home, after he heard that there were six children in the home he was a bit dubious as to the amount of "rest" one could have.  However, he was pleasantly surprised to find six well-behaved, obedient children whose demeanor allowed the home to be labeled one of peace, not chaos, as was expected.  Some of these guests were missionaries, as the churches we went to generally were missions oriented.  Therefore, we children were touched by God's heart for the world through these dedicated people of His.  It sure influenced me, and in hindsight, prepared me for the man I married.

My older sister adds this note regarding hospitality ~

A big influence on me was Mom's gift of hospitality... I remember Mom's company  tablecloth which everyone signed and then she embroidered before washing it each time.  She never had fancy menus, just plain food but good.  Sunday meatloaf, and Saturday night or Friday for the football games was baked beans with hot dogs sliced, coleslaw, chips and onion dip.  All washed down with her special iced tea!

My maternal grandmother lived with us for a number of years while we were young.  She disapproved of my parents' discipline of us, and spoke her feelings to my parents.  She thought they were too strict.  But she watched as we grew up; and, after seeing how we turned out, she admitted they did the right thing.

My folks also taught us to respect other authorities in our lives, especially our teachers.  I recall once being punished at home after getting into trouble and being punished in school.  That taught me!

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, 

so that each of us may receive what is due us for the 

things done while in the body, whether good or bad.

II Corinthians 5:10