My First, Second & Third Attempts at Parenting: Discovering the Heart of Parenting

Author

INTRODUCTION

THE PURPOSE-DRIVEN BOOK

What This Book is Not

Throughout my parenting career, I’ve read a lot of parenting books. Some helped me. Some did not. Most were practical how-to books detailing best practices for family devotions, behavioral discipline, preparing toddlers for the Ivy League, and other parenting essentials.

This book, however, is about the elusive part of parenting — the heart. Chapter by chapter, story by story, we will examine God’s heart toward children, our hearts as parents, and how to shape a child’s heart. Plenty of parenting books focus on how to fix bad behavior. Not so many focus on how to cultivate a child’s heart. Even fewer focus on how to deal with our own hearts as parents. Training children to obey is important, but it’s more important that they have a heart to follow God.

My goal in writing this book is that people will understand God’s heart for children and will catch the heart of parenting.

My First, Second & Third Attempts at Parenting is the opposite of a how-to book. It’s intentionally more philosophical than practical and more personal than academic. It’s a collection of stories and experiences, rather than an exegetical Bible study.

Because I’m convinced that small group discipleship (a.k.a. community) is the best way to do life and family, each chapter ends with small group discussion questions.

Before deciding on My First, Second & Third Attempts at Parenting as the title, I considered several other options, including the following:

WikiChild — The obvious follow-up to WikiChurch, my book on discipleship.

100,000 Dollars from Now — The sequel to my last book, 100 Years from Now, which would emphasize the cost of emergency room visits, piano lessons, and tennis coaches for my three sons.

Purple Parents — A title that makes almost as much sense as The Purple Book, the foundational Bible study book I coauthored with Dr. Rice Broocks.

Discipleship at Home — Because there can never be too many books on discipleship.

The Heart of Parenting — My choice, but I was told this was too generic and sounded more like a subtitle.

Dad’s Not Dead (Yet) — Why not ride the wave created by the God’s Not Dead book and movie?

Change the Diaper, Change the World — The campus ministry classic by Dr. Rice Broocks, Change the Campus, Change the World, had such an impact, why not position this book as the prequel? (Many years ago, I made a vow to God that after Jonathan was fully potty-trained, I would never again change a dirty diaper. Eighteen months into my career as a grandfather, I am proud to report that I have kept that vow.

So, while I still want to change the world, I’m leaving the change the diaper part to the next generation.)

After extensive market research (I asked Deborah what she thought), My First, Second & Third Attempts at Parenting became the title. Those three attempts are my sons: William, James, and Jonathan.

As you can see, the chapters are named after some of my favorite books. I’ve added a subtitle to each chapter to make sure everyone gets the point of the chapter (and to keep me from wandering too far off-topic).

This book originally had six chapters, based on a six-lesson Heart of Parenting seminar and small group discipleship guide that Deborah and I developed many years ago. But as soon as I started writing, the book started growing. The same thing often happens to my sermons.

The chapters are divided into three sections. The History section provides the context. The Heart section is the core teaching from our Heart of Parenting seminar. The Home section is the only part of this book that is even remotely practical. It’s obviously about applying parenting principles at home.

Thank you for reading this book. I pray it helps you catch the heart of parenting so that you and your kids survive your first, second, and third attempts at parenting (with minimal permanent damage).

FOREWORD

THE THREE MUSKETEERS

What My Parents Did Right

A few years ago, I spoke at a parenting seminar with my parents. Having been in the ministry for decades, they had spoken at dozens of parenting seminars. Being twenty-five and single, this was my first one.

As I anxiously thought about what I was going to say to the 800 people who had signed up for the well-marketed church event, I fought the urge to merely recycle some of my dad’s classic sermon illustrations featuring me. As is the case with most pastors’ kids, many of my most glorious and inglorious childhood moments had been immortalized from the pulpit and later, the blogosphere. After searching my mental hard drive for new, untold childhood stories that would inspire — or at least entertain — the audience, I settled on three and attempted to link them with biblical principles about parenting. I rehearsed the stories, clarified my takeaways, and cobbled together a PowerPoint presentation.

But the more I thought about my rare public-speaking opportunity, the more I realized that no one really cared what I thought about parenting. I was there to give honest, unrehearsed commentary on how I thought my parents had done as parents.

Then it hit me — tens of thousands of people all over the world could comment on my parents as pastors. And dozens, maybe hundreds, of people could comment on my parents as mentors and friends. But only three people in the whole world (me and my two younger brothers) could comment on my parents as parents. And that is why I — an unmarried twenty-something with a degree in medieval history — was speaking at a parenting seminar.

And that’s also why I’m writing this foreword.

However, today, three years later, I write as a new father — with a whopping five weeks of experience. Though my brief (yet life-altering) parenting experience doesn’t qualify me to offer much beyond diaper-changing advice, it has made me think more seriously about how I was raised and how my wife and I want to raise our new daughter.

When I think about my dad and my mom and what they did right as parents, it’s impossible to translate their parenting strengths into tidy bullet points and PowerPoint slides. Perhaps the simplest way to put it is this: they understood the heart of parenting.

They understood that parenting was about internal transformation, not external performance.

They didn’t really care if my brothers and I won our baseball games or tennis matches. They cared if we had good attitudes — especially when we lost.

They didn’t really care if we became great pianists — we didn’t. They, or at least my mom, cared if we practiced every day.

They didn’t really care if we were honor students — we were, sometimes. They cared if we tried our best in school.

They didn’t really care if we followed their footsteps into ministry — none of us have. They cared if we loved Jesus, His Church, and its mission.

They didn’t really care if we were model pastors’ kids — sometimes we weren’t. They cared if we lived a life that honored God.

Looking back, I’m so thankful that my parents focused primarily on our hearts rather than our behavior. They understood that parenting is all about the things that you can’t see. It’s about shaping attitudes, not performance. It’s about instilling self-control, not parental control. It’s about helping your children cultivate a heart for Jesus, not a squeaky-clean image.

Like all parents, my wife and I have big plans for our five-week-old.

We hope she’s good at sports, tennis in particular. We hope that one day she’ll play the piano and be an honor student and be involved in church and be successful in whatever she does. But more than any of those things, we hope she will love Jesus with her whole heart, soul, mind, and strength. And we pray that, as parents, we raise our daughter in a way that encourages, rather than hinders, her relationship with her heavenly Father.

If this is your prayer for your children, then this is your book.

— William S. Murrell, Jr.

February 1, 2014

HISTORY

1

GONE WITH THE WIND

Seize the Moment Before

the Moment is Gone

The Old South, look for it only in books, for it is no more than a dream remembered, a Civilization gone with the wind.

Introduction, Gone with the Wind

Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.

Psalm 144:4

. . . What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

James 4:14

What started as a single tear escaping one eye quickly turned into a flash flood.

Mom, are you okay? Our eight-year-old son was concerned and maybe a bit embarrassed that his mother was crying in public for no apparent reason.

I knew exactly why she was crying, but I couldn’t explain it to our sons who were eight, six, and four at the time. I knew they’d understand one day, but not until they had children of their own.

We had been to Manila’s Ninoy Aquino International Airport a thousand times before to catch the ridiculously early flight from Manila to San Francisco. We’d never had an emotional outburst. Until that day.

As we waited in line to check our luggage and get our boarding passes, Deborah noticed a family huddled together at the point of no return (also known as the immigration counter). The mom and dad seemed to be saying goodbye to their fuzzy-faced teenage son.

We wish we had a pause button so we could freeze a million different moments with our sons. Or maybe a rewind button so we could relive those million moments.

The mom was crying. The dad was trying not to. One last hug from mom, an awkward handshake and shoulder pat from dad, and the son threw his backpack over his shoulder and marched toward the immigration officer, passport in one hand, ticket in the other. Mom and dad embraced. Mom sobbed. Dad bit his quivering lip in a last-ditch attempt to stop the tears. They left the airport together. Their son left the Philippines alone.

The longer Deborah watched this scene unfold, the more she lost control of her tear ducts. Five more minutes and she would produce enough tears to drown herself.

We didn’t know these people and they didn’t know us, but we instinctively knew they were a missionary family sending their fresh high school graduate to their home country for university. They probably wouldn’t see their son for a couple of years. I don’t know why, but missionary families know how to identify other missionary families, especially when they’re saying heart-rending goodbyes. And this was definitely a missionary family releasing their third-culture kid into the vast unknown.

When Deborah tried to answer William’s inquiry and explain why she was crying, she only managed a high-pitched cracking noise, but no discernible English words. This attempt at talking caused a new flood of tears to stream down her face. I started looking for a janitor with a mop.

William asked again, Mom, are you okay? What’s wrong?

Eventually Deborah was able to find some words. Addressing William, James, Jonathan, me, God, the United Airlines desk agent, and the Japanese businessman in line behind us, she sobbed these words: That boy just graduated from high school, and his parents are sending him overseas to college. And in just ten more years, William will graduate and leave, then in twelve years James will go, then in fourteen years it will be Jonathan. I don’t think I can do this. More tears followed.

So you’re saying that being stuck with me is an unbearable thought. As usual, my attempt at diffusing the situation with sarcasm failed. The thought of being that far from her sons was not a happy one for my wife. Most parents send their eighteen-year-olds off to college, but few send them to the other side of the planet.

I’ll never forget that airport scene. It seems like yesterday.

Some parents long for the day when all the kids are independent, grown up, out of their house, and off their budget. Not us (except the budget part). We wish we had a pause button so we could freeze a million different moments with our sons. Or maybe a rewind button so we could relive those million moments. Not because of guilt or regret, but just to enjoy them again exactly as they happened.

Ten years later, twelve years later, and fourteen years later, those dreaded moments happened. Our boys became men. They left. And we survived.

As I write this chapter, our sons are twenty-eight, twenty-six, and twenty-four. Two are married. One is a parent. We’re grandparents. Life is good.

THE MOST AWKWARD

INTRO EVER

One year after the crying-in-the-airport incident, I had an opportunity to minister at a church in a neighboring nation in Asia. It was my first time to preach in this church, and I was about to experience the most awkward introduction of my life.

Our guest speaker tonight is Pastor Steve Murrell from the Philippines.

None of these church members knew me, and I didn’t know them. My credibility (in their eyes) would soon be established by the way their beloved pastor introduced me. All they would know about me was what their pastor was about to tell them. Church people generally trust their pastor and distrust strangers, especially strangers with foreign accents. That’s why the guest speaker introduction is so important. While the pastor introduced me, I sat on the front row, nervously shuffling my notes, and silently praying that God would help me honor Him and make disciples.

Our guest speaker tonight is Pastor Steve Murrell from the Philippines. I’m going to have him come up here and introduce himself before he preaches.

What? Introduce myself?

I’ve introduced countless guest speakers at my church. I know how important the introduction is, and I’m pretty good at it. More than one guest preacher confessed that he would rather preach at my church than at his own, in part because of the way I introduce my guests. When I introduce a guest speaker at our church, I basically brag about him and his ministry.

If introducing is bragging, how should I introduce myself?

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, you have the privilege of learning from a great man. And, I have the great honor of introducing this great man to you. Besides leading the greatest church in the world, he is also the greatest living preacher. He is a great apostle, a great prophet, a great evangelist, a great pastor, and a really, really good teacher. Perhaps the greatest thing that can be said about this great man is that, in spite of all his greatness, he carries himself with great humility. Let’s all rise to our feet and give a great standing ovation to the greatest guest speaker this church will ever have — me! Come on, you can clap louder than that.

Maybe a more humble approach, rooted in reality, would be better.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have no idea why your pastor invited our guest speaker. Maybe no one else was available. Nevertheless, I was asked to introduce him tonight. He is nationally ignored and internationally unknown. He is the author of countless unwritten and unpublished imaginary bestsellers. After graduating without honors from Mississippi State University, this man led a tiny student church on the MSU campus that eventually shrunk and died. He took a few seminary courses, but never completed his theology degree. With this man and his ministry, when all is said and done, more is usually said than done. So, without further delay, let’s stand to our feet and give an awkward, forced compulsory standing ovation to this complete stranger who is bragging about himself. Let’s hear it for me!

I’m certain that introduction would have had them eating out of my hand. Here’s how I actually introduced myself that night, as best as I can remember it.

JESUS IS THE

STARTING POINT

Hi. I’ve never been asked to introduce myself before preaching. First of all, I’m a Christian and a cross-carrying, Bible-believing disciple of Christ. I’m here today because many years ago, as a sixteen-year-old high school student, I had a life-changing encounter with Jesus Christ that rearranged all my plans, dreams, priorities, and values. Since that day in 1975, He has been the central focus of my life. He is my Lord and my Master. He calls the shots.

That’s the starting point. Who we are in Christ is who we are. I continued.

Who we are in Christ is who we are.

Secondly, I’m a husband. My most sacred commitment, after my commitment to Jesus, is my commitment to my wife. She is my top priority after God. She is before my church and my ministry. She’s more important to me than all the church members put together. God didn’t call me to choose between a good marriage and a growing church, and He didn’t call you to put success at work before success at home. Contrary to what many think, success at work and success at home are not mutually exclusive.

How could I properly introduce myself without introducing my wife? We are one. Our lives are inexorably linked. Since Deborah was at home in Manila, I