“You can’t raise any two kids the same.”
I always though the saying meant each child was different, and that the same tactics would not necessarily be successful due to personality differences. Now in my forties, I mother my last child differently than I did my first.
With my first child, I had a vision of what I wanted her to become. I planned to maneuver the universe to help me mold her into the young lady I wanted. Three kids later, I no longer try to “sculpt” a child. Instead, I evaluate strengths and inclinations and then determine what sports or careers suit them.
I would like to say child rearing has gone smoother since that transition—and for the most part it has—but then our Attention Deficit Disorder kid came. The kind you have to tell five times to put on his shoes, who still puts his shorts on backwards, and who has to struggle to write a sentence. But he’s also the kid who cries at the heart-wrenching part of a movie, breaks into an English accent at random, and can tell you anything you want to know about any animal. I worried about my child. In a world where college is king, what would become of my boy? I wondered as I watched him make faces in the mirror. And that’s when I thought making faces (acting) might be his slingshot.
I had just read the story of David and Goliath to my little ones and laughed when I thought of how it might have been to raise young David. He was the runt and not considered important enough to be called among the seven sons when the prophet Samuel went to Jessie’s house to anoint the next king. He was tending sheep, which was considered one of the lowliest jobs. I pictured his father standing at the door, watching his son, shaking his head, and wondering what would become of him. “Just look at him, honey, all little and unskilled. All he does is play with that blasted slingshot!”
The very thing his father found little use for was the venue through which God would bring victory for His people.
Keep your eyes open for your child’s “slingshot.” It may just be his salvation.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
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April Estes lives in Knoxville and is a Mom to four, wife to one, and enjoys writing songs while waiting in carpool.