Of the three girls, Rachel has taken to life in Africa the most naturally.
She loves the year round warm weather, the dirt to dig in, the trees to climb
and the freedom to roam. Ironically, I have felt more comfortable free range
parenting here, within the walls of our compound, then anywhere else we have
lived and Rachel is reaping the benefits. She just has two rules: keep your
shoes on (a constant struggle) and be within ear shot.
When we came outside this afternoon, for a picnic lunch in our 97 degree
weather, I called for her, but she didn’t come. Jenna went looking for her and
found her at a neighbor’s house. Once she got home, there was a quick “I’m
sorry,” but no remorse, so I knew something had to be done.
I have never grounded my girls, mostly because it wouldn’t be a
punishment. Jenna and Sophie (even more so) love being in their rooms, but
Rachel, oh Rachel. I decided that a befitting punishment would be for her to go
to her room until dinner, with no music and no audio books. Nothing to distract
her from the fact that she was alone (punishment enough for an extrovert). It
was 1:00. She wasn’t happy, but she understood. Through tears and periodic
requests: “Mom, can I have dessert?” “No.” “Mom, will you read to me?” “No”
(cringe) the minutes started ticking away.
Esther is cleaning today, so I let her know that Rachel is staying in her
room and why and that it doesn’t need to be cleaned. “The whole day ma’?” “Yes,
the whole day.” “Oh, but it is so long!” “I know, she has to learn.” The rest
of our conversation blessed me tremendously. Esther told me that, in Nigeria,
when a child has a long punishment like this, that it is tradition for another
to “beg” on their behalf. For example, she would beg for Rachel and if I agreed
go tell her that her punishment had been canceled and ask her to apologize to
me.
I thought she was just making conversation, but after she explained it to
me she asked, “Ma’ may I beg for Rachel?” The internal conflict began. The
justice side of me initially resisted. Rachel has to learn to obey for her
own safety, plus, I said it and I can’t go back on my word. But, it didn’t take
long for mercy and grace to win out. The mercy of another culture’s tradition,
the grace of a friend who really cares about our family.
So after a brief struggle, I said yes. I don’t think it would have been
wrong to say no, but grace does change everything and a changed heart was the
end goal. I asked Esther to wait an hour, so that Rachel could feel the weight
of her choice. Just minutes before Esther was going to go in Rachel started
sobbing. She understood and was dreading the next 3 hours. After Esther talked
to her, she came into my room hesitantly. I don’t think she quite understood
what was happening.
I explained the grace that she had been shown, through Esther, and that I
was accepting that grace, that she was forgiven and could leave her room. “But
I can’t go outside right?” “Yes you can, you are completely forgiven.” The hug
she gave me belongs to Christmas morning. The hug of thankfulness for the
perfect gift, not earned and not deserved. The tears rolling down her dirty,
sun-kissed cheeks reminded me that we don’t have to clean ourselves up to come
to God, he wants our hearts, he gives us grace.
Christmas, the ultimate gift of grace, came early to our house this year.
The gift that Esther offered and that I allowed Rachel to receive, may not be
something that she remembers, but I pray that it will be one more thread
in the tapestry of her life that makes giving grace a natural part of her
personal culture.
No comments:
Post a Comment