Lately, Alex has been resistant to going places, seemingly
anxious about leaving the house. This unwillingness to go places is out of
character for him, especially considering that one of his summer goals was to
“put lots of miles on Daddy’s car.” However, the recent stretch of single digit
temperatures coupled with below zero wind chills would certainly explain his preference
for staying home, rather than going outside in the bitter cold.
His reluctance to get in the car, though, seems to go beyond dealing with the discomfort of winter weather. After some encouragement to express his concerns, we discovered that Alex was still upset about something we had forgotten. A few weeks ago, his soft drink that was sitting in the back seat cup holder tipped over and spilled on the seat. Knowing this was an accident, we didn’t react much, simply cleaning up the mess and assuring him that he didn’t do anything wrong. However, he still felt guilty, even though we held him blameless. Once we discovered that he was still feeling bad about what he thought was his fault, we once again reassured him that we weren’t angry or upset and that he didn’t need to feel bad about what had happened, hoping to rid him of anxiety about riding in the car.
Nonetheless, he seems to have current concerns about things falling. Last week, when his music therapist placed his music book on the keyboard, Alex was certain that the book was going to fall on the floor. Because he couldn’t quite find the words to express his fears, he let out a growl to let his therapist know he was upset. As his therapist and I tried to figure out why Alex wasn’t happy, he finally told us that he thought the book would fall, and that worried him. As his therapist demonstrated that the book was secure on the keyboard, I explained that even if the book fell, no harm would be done. The book falling wouldn’t make a mess, and his therapist would simply pick it up and put it back. After being reassured, Alex was able to continue successfully with the music therapy session. Knowing this incident was likely related to the spilled drink in the car incident, I decided not to mention the fears of the notebook falling again for fear of stirring up the memories of the spilled drink.
When Ed came home from work later that day, he asked me how Alex had done with music therapy, and I told him everything was fine, not wanting to make a deal of Alex’s brief moment of upset that never escalated, especially if Alex were eavesdropping, which he often does. However, when Ed later asked Alex about music therapy, he admitted to Ed that he had gotten upset. When Ed asked him what he had done, looking for details about the triggers of the upset and his reactions, Alex instead calmly replied, “Got over it.” Although Alex apparently needed to confess what had happened, he also seemed proud that he had dealt with the situation well.
Several years ago when we were having behavioral issues with Alex, he would ask me every night after bedtime prayers if had had done “anything bad” that day. While I was proud that he seemed to have developed a strong conscience and a sense of right and wrong, I never wanted him to have feelings of guilt afterward. Because his behavior has significantly improved over the years, he rarely asks me for a nightly accounting of his sins anymore. Most of the time if he does ask me if he did anything bad that day, I will tell him no, which is my honest assessment of his behavior. However, he sometimes reminds me that he got upset that day, and I must reassure him that everyone gets upset and compliment him that he handled the upset well, getting over it and apologizing. Somehow our discussions always seem to make him feel better, as he smiles and drifts off to a peaceful sleep.
Alex’s apparent need for absolution has made me think about how we as parents teach forgiveness and, by extension, explain God’s mercy. When I was growing up, I remember my mom teaching me that when I did something wrong, I simply needed to apologize, ask God to forgive me, and try to do better. Because she was always loving and forgiving, I learned that God was always loving and forgiving. If we want our children to understand God’s mercy, we must be merciful parents. We always want Alex to know that no matter what he does, we will love and forgive him, and more importantly, God will love and forgive him.
When Alex makes mistakes, we expect him to apologize, but we don’t want him to continue to obsess about what he has done wrong. Instead, we want him to know that we have forgiven him and hold nothing against him. Being raised in Protestant churches, that method of forgiveness has usually satisfied me. On the other hand, Ed, who was raised Catholic, grew up with the ritual of confessing sins. (I once asked him what he usually confessed to the priests, and he told me “eating meat on Friday” and “using the Lord’s name in vain,” both of which I have witnessed. If that’s all he did wrong as a kid, his parents can feel proud.)
Perhaps Alex needs that act of confession, as evidenced in his bedtime queries of what he did wrong or in his telling his dad the events I held in confidence, as a way of unburdening his conscience. Maybe admitting what he has done wrong decreases his anxiety since he seems to feel relief in listing his sins aloud. While we try to minimize his faults to show mercy and forgiveness, Alex wants to confess them and be reassured that even when reminded of his faults, we still love him unconditionally.
Through his confessions, Alex may gain what he really needs: absolution. When all we ask of him is an apology and an effort to do better next time––instead of punishing him––he knows that we love him and forgive him. If we as imperfect human parents can do that, certainly his heavenly Father will do the same. Consequently, he rests peacefully in the knowledge that he can obtain mercy whenever he needs it, and hopefully he is learning to extend mercy to others in the same way he has been shown compassion.
“But You, O Lord, are a God of compassion and mercy, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love and faithfulness.” Psalm 86:15
His reluctance to get in the car, though, seems to go beyond dealing with the discomfort of winter weather. After some encouragement to express his concerns, we discovered that Alex was still upset about something we had forgotten. A few weeks ago, his soft drink that was sitting in the back seat cup holder tipped over and spilled on the seat. Knowing this was an accident, we didn’t react much, simply cleaning up the mess and assuring him that he didn’t do anything wrong. However, he still felt guilty, even though we held him blameless. Once we discovered that he was still feeling bad about what he thought was his fault, we once again reassured him that we weren’t angry or upset and that he didn’t need to feel bad about what had happened, hoping to rid him of anxiety about riding in the car.
Nonetheless, he seems to have current concerns about things falling. Last week, when his music therapist placed his music book on the keyboard, Alex was certain that the book was going to fall on the floor. Because he couldn’t quite find the words to express his fears, he let out a growl to let his therapist know he was upset. As his therapist and I tried to figure out why Alex wasn’t happy, he finally told us that he thought the book would fall, and that worried him. As his therapist demonstrated that the book was secure on the keyboard, I explained that even if the book fell, no harm would be done. The book falling wouldn’t make a mess, and his therapist would simply pick it up and put it back. After being reassured, Alex was able to continue successfully with the music therapy session. Knowing this incident was likely related to the spilled drink in the car incident, I decided not to mention the fears of the notebook falling again for fear of stirring up the memories of the spilled drink.
When Ed came home from work later that day, he asked me how Alex had done with music therapy, and I told him everything was fine, not wanting to make a deal of Alex’s brief moment of upset that never escalated, especially if Alex were eavesdropping, which he often does. However, when Ed later asked Alex about music therapy, he admitted to Ed that he had gotten upset. When Ed asked him what he had done, looking for details about the triggers of the upset and his reactions, Alex instead calmly replied, “Got over it.” Although Alex apparently needed to confess what had happened, he also seemed proud that he had dealt with the situation well.
Several years ago when we were having behavioral issues with Alex, he would ask me every night after bedtime prayers if had had done “anything bad” that day. While I was proud that he seemed to have developed a strong conscience and a sense of right and wrong, I never wanted him to have feelings of guilt afterward. Because his behavior has significantly improved over the years, he rarely asks me for a nightly accounting of his sins anymore. Most of the time if he does ask me if he did anything bad that day, I will tell him no, which is my honest assessment of his behavior. However, he sometimes reminds me that he got upset that day, and I must reassure him that everyone gets upset and compliment him that he handled the upset well, getting over it and apologizing. Somehow our discussions always seem to make him feel better, as he smiles and drifts off to a peaceful sleep.
Alex’s apparent need for absolution has made me think about how we as parents teach forgiveness and, by extension, explain God’s mercy. When I was growing up, I remember my mom teaching me that when I did something wrong, I simply needed to apologize, ask God to forgive me, and try to do better. Because she was always loving and forgiving, I learned that God was always loving and forgiving. If we want our children to understand God’s mercy, we must be merciful parents. We always want Alex to know that no matter what he does, we will love and forgive him, and more importantly, God will love and forgive him.
When Alex makes mistakes, we expect him to apologize, but we don’t want him to continue to obsess about what he has done wrong. Instead, we want him to know that we have forgiven him and hold nothing against him. Being raised in Protestant churches, that method of forgiveness has usually satisfied me. On the other hand, Ed, who was raised Catholic, grew up with the ritual of confessing sins. (I once asked him what he usually confessed to the priests, and he told me “eating meat on Friday” and “using the Lord’s name in vain,” both of which I have witnessed. If that’s all he did wrong as a kid, his parents can feel proud.)
Perhaps Alex needs that act of confession, as evidenced in his bedtime queries of what he did wrong or in his telling his dad the events I held in confidence, as a way of unburdening his conscience. Maybe admitting what he has done wrong decreases his anxiety since he seems to feel relief in listing his sins aloud. While we try to minimize his faults to show mercy and forgiveness, Alex wants to confess them and be reassured that even when reminded of his faults, we still love him unconditionally.
Through his confessions, Alex may gain what he really needs: absolution. When all we ask of him is an apology and an effort to do better next time––instead of punishing him––he knows that we love him and forgive him. If we as imperfect human parents can do that, certainly his heavenly Father will do the same. Consequently, he rests peacefully in the knowledge that he can obtain mercy whenever he needs it, and hopefully he is learning to extend mercy to others in the same way he has been shown compassion.
“But You, O Lord, are a God of compassion and mercy, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love and faithfulness.” Psalm 86:15
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