Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Stewardship of Our Children

Many Christians will often throw out the phrase "stewardship", which generally is used to emphasize that during our lives here on earth, nothing truly belongs to us. Everything under the sun belongs to God, and even those things which we seemingly have possession of - our houses, our cars, our money, our jobs, even our opportunities and talents - have been given by grace from our Creator. We are simply stewards holding temporary oversight and responsibility over something that isn't "owned" by us. We are to wisely manage (or shepherd, for lack of a better word) these things which have been placed under our stewardship, but these things do not belong to us.

This is a difficult discipline, and as someone who has a lot of room to grow in this area, I can attest that it's really hard to not see all of these things (money, talents, possessions) as being your own. A few years ago, I gave a talk some students about the concept of stewardship, and I had told them that our failure to truly grasp this concept manifests itself in the following ways:
  • Entitlement – “I deserve X because I’m so hard-working / smart / etc..”
  • Misplaced Ambition – “As long as I’m glorified / happy / rich / respected…”
  • Apathy – “I don’t care.”
  • Ego-Centrism – “If I can’t be the best, I don’t want to play.”
Clearly, this concept is difficult to live out. I know because I struggle with the above things. And the struggle with the concept of stewardship isn't always rooted in greed or vanity. Sometimes it manifests itself in well-intentioned and completely understandable - even honorable - feelings gone too far.

Take, for example, the case with our children. I love my children deeply, and this is a good thing. But to hold on to things as our own has the potential to cross a line into obsession, entitlement and idolatry in which we fail to acknowledge that our children ultimately belong to God and not to us. This clearly isn't licence for parents to be neglectful or irresponsible, but there comes a point in which I as a father need to acknowledge that while I can do my best to guide and shepherd my child's heart, I don't have control over that heart. And as much as that pains me, my child belongs to God before me - and someday they will leave the nest and depart from me and my wife. We are not entitled to hold on to them forever or dictate the futures that they will have.

This struck me recently when reflecting upon a couple in our church whose unborn child was diagnosed with a condition which doctors said would likely end the baby's life in utero. If the baby survived, they were told, he would likely only survive a few months. This was obviously devastating news, but what amazed and humbled me was the faithful response of these two congregants.

Instead of lashing out in anger or burying themselves under a blanket of "why me?", they responded with great humility and faith. The depths of their sadness is beyond anything I have experienced in my lifetime. As a person who has recently had multiple friends go through miscarriages, I was struck by the weight of tragedy when one of the afflicted parents mentioned to me that in a healthy delivery, there's a lot of physical pain which gives way to the immeasurable joy of welcoming a new member of the family, with all the hopes and dreams that come along with it. In miscarriages, there's a lot of physical pain... and then a much worse pain and grief. What would be arguably worse (some would argue better, but that's hardly the point) is that there would be no sudden end, but rather this large anvil waiting to fall - a sense of impending doom.

But our friends made heart-decisions which I think exemplified great stewardship. The thought about aborting their child was out of the question. Instead, they embraced their responsibility of stewardship of their child and were steadfast in their commitment to love and nurture their son for as long or little as they had time with him. That included doing what they believed was their calling to make every effort to bring him safely into the world and nurture and grow him enveloped by the love of a family. In a prayer request in early August, they shared that while they was a lot of sadness and they continued to pray for a medical miracle and stated "we are so grateful for every day we have with our little boy and continue to pray for God's mercy." About a week ago, the Lord brought that unborn child home to Him. And even in the deep sadness and mourning, there is hope and great faith in a God who redeems, a Father who understands the indescribable grief of the death of a Son.

As a father with three children, I hope I can have that attitude of faithful stewardship, never taking for granted the days that I have with my kids. I must remind myself that despite my own subconscious assumptions, I am not entitled to see my kids go to their prom, graduate from high school and college, get married or have children of their own. Each day with them is a new day I am given stewardship over them, and each day I am to love them and care for their hearts and souls. But ultimately, they belong the Lord and that should put my soul at rest.

2 comments:

MT said...

Aside from being an amazing story of faith, this was really helpful for me theologically, especially the first paragraph. Until now, I had thought stewardship was just the Christian word for how you deal with your resources. But your description made a lot of sense. Thanks! Praying for your dear friends in their grief.

Suburban Family Guy said...

Thanks for the kind words and prayers for our friends. They have been grateful of the outpouring of love and support from our congregation, but I hope they realize just how much they've taught us about faith and stewardship.