Windows of the Heart, by Mark Hamby
Jonathan arrived home one evening from a youth group meeting that went later than usual. I was glad to catch him. Early the next morning, my flight for a conference was leaving and so I was hoping to say something to him before I went to bed. I called from my office while on hold with the airline, “Jonathan, I’m glad you’re home. I wanted to say ‘goodbye’ before I left for my conference.”
Jonathan kept walking to the kitchen and replied not in words but in some kind of a grunt. “Jonathan. What’s wrong with you? I’m leaving for a conference and I just want to say ‘goodbye.’”
Again he grunted. I called him to my office, still on hold. He walked as though I had dragged him. The expression on his face could have disappointed a crocodile. I tried again, “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong. I just want to say that I’m leaving and I’ll miss you.”
Jonathan finally spoke, “Are you done?” Nothing in this world, no phrase spoken quite irritates me more than statements like that. Tied to the phone, I just stared at him for a moment while memories from harder times between he and I flooded back into my mind.
“ Jonathan, I thought we were over this? I can’t believe your attitude.” he blinked and then a moment later asked, “Okay. Are you done?” Fear turned to rage—that was it—if he wanted a fight, he was going to get one, but the airline reservationist came back on line, so I sent him to his room while I finished up.
After I hung up the phone, I looked upstairs and prepped mentally for ‘lesson-teaching’ time. He was not going to talk to me that way. I had done nothing to deserve it.
I paused in front of his door. The Holy Spirit brought to my mind Jesus’s question to Peter: ‘Peter do you love me? Yes, Lord you know I love you. Jesus says, then feed my lambs.” The vast majority of people at my seminars will often finish the quote by saying ‘sheep.’ But Christ says ‘lambs’ before sheep and one of those lambs was behind a door five feet in front of me. “Lord,” I thought to myself, “I’ll feed him after I sacrifice him!” But it was too late; the Holy Spirit had already begun to convict me. I knew the end results if I decided to approach this situation with my "authority." The reservoir needed to be emptied and tonight was the night for a change in approach. Drawing near to his door, I tried to mentally prepare for whatever he would say to me. I turned the knob and walked in. Jonathan was seated on his bed. I looked at his face and, although it was pointed toward the floor, I could read it like a book. I saw a severe pain there that I had neglected to notice earlier. It had come up from his heart and planted itself right there, as plain as day, and I missed it. He was revealing his heart on his face. I could see it just as God could.
“ Jonathan, you don’t have to say anything to me—I'd like to share something with you that I believe will encourage you. Obviously something happened tonight that hurt your heart. I don’t know what it was, but I want you to know that I love you and I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Tears welled up in his eyes. He remained still and responded quietly, “Dad, that’s what I’ve been needing from you all these years.”
God was teaching me to see, to perceive the actions of my children not as personal attacks, but as windows into their heart. Before the good, helpful, biblical words wisdom, we must read their heart and understand what is happening inside of them.
Perhaps the best advice (beyond the scriptures) I have received concerning a child’s heart comes from Francois Fenelon in his The Wisdom of Fenelon: Education of a Child.
It is frequently necessary to tolerate things which ought to be corrected, until the moment shall have arrived when the mind of the child will be in a state to profit from the correction. Never find fault with him in his first emotion, or in yours; if you do it in yours, he will perceive that you are governed by mood and impatience, and not by reason and friendship: you will lose, without resource, your authority. If you reprimand him in his first emotion, his mind will not be sufficiently free to acknowledge his fault, to subdue his passion, and to weigh the importance of your advice.
In order to reach the child’s heart, we must be willing to wait. Like picking fruit: if one picks too early the fruit tastes bitter; too late and the fruit rots. The discerning parent will watch carefully for the right moment, after the heart is revealed, and the loving parent will have the courage to do so.
