Our time with our children rushes along, but there are moments that we hold onto and remember fondly. For me, one of these moments was so many years ago, when my daughter apologized spontaneously for the first time. It was one of the sweetest things I have heard come out of her mouth.
Her younger brother had just tried to give her a toy, and she had responded with a belligerent, “No! I don’t want that!” and a huff. I hadn’t immediately said anything to her about her unkind behavior, but just a few minutes later, I heard her: “Didi [little brother, in Chinese], I was impatient with you when you tried to give that to me. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”
It wasn’t surprising that her first apology was for impatience—it’s not an uncommon problem for her. Actually, it’s a common problem for me, too. But it encouraged my heart because that is the thing that I apologize for the most. She is following my example—her apology was almost word-for-word what I have said to her on occasion. I don’t apologize as often as I should, and this was a good reminder to me to be a good example to the kids.
We need to apologize to the children in our lives.
We need to do this to restore our relationship when we have done things that hurt them and make them feel unloved. But another reason that it’s important to apologize is that they are learning appropriate behavior from us. They most likely recognize our authority, but depending on their age, they may not completely recognize when we have behaved in a wrong way.
In fact, even as adults, we can look at authority figures in our lives and sometimes assume their behavior is acceptable because of their position. I still remember a time, back in college, when I was working in a special Bible club ministry for neighborhood children. Most of the kids were from rough backgrounds and didn’t regularly attend the church that hosted the club. They were rowdy, loud, and eager for snacks; it took all of our energy to guide them through activities and show God’s love to them.
One night, while I was walking down a basement hallway, I heard one of the men in the church yell at one of the kids for running up the staircase. His words were loud and harsh; I was quite shocked by his tone. We were there, trying to share truth and love with these kids, and I felt like he had just undone all of that in under a minute. As the man walked around the corner, I was even more shocked to discover that it was the pastor. I was an outsider—a visiting helper, not a member of the church. I spent a long time that night wondering how his example affected the people in his assembly. Did they know it was wrong, or did some people think that was an acceptable way to speak to children?
I think we can see a similar dynamic happening in the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Here’s one section:
Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
Luke 10:31–32
Commentator Joel B. Green explains the influence of the authority in this situation: “Within their world, their association with the temple commends [the priest and the Levite] as persons of exemplary piety whose actions would be regarded as self-evidently righteous. . . . Accordingly, their failure to assist the anonymous man would have been laudable in the eyes of many.”[1]
We can also become confused by our leaders’ bad behavior. We often look to the leaders in our life to be models for how to be Christlike in the real world. When our leaders sin, we can be tempted to justify their behavior, especially if it makes us feel more comfortable with our own.
Our children are doing the same thing. When we speak harshly, or become impatient, or get worried about something rather than trusting the Lord, we might be giving them the impression that these are acceptable actions. We aren’t going to be perfect, so we must be ready to acknowledge when we haven’t modeled Christlikeness. Whenever we don’t acknowledge this, we run the risk of giving our kids the wrong idea.
We may be afraid that apologizing will diminish our authority. It won’t—our authority in their lives comes from God. We can apologize and ask for forgiveness, knowing that we are patterning for them the way all of us are to be confessing and forsaking sin. Our pride might suffer, but our position in their lives will be strengthened by speaking the truth.
We aren’t going to be perfect examples for them. But we don’t need our failures to lead them into confusion. Instead, we respond with an opportunity to justify God rather than ourselves (Psalm 51:4). If we have recognized that our behavior was wrong, let’s not ignore it or rationalize it. Instead, let’s be honest with ourselves and with them, giving them a better example to follow.
By humbly seeking forgiveness, even from the children in our lives, we open up doors for gospel conversations with them. We show them that life is not about hiding imperfections and justifying ourselves. Our pattern of life follows the source of our life: forgiveness from God and reconciliation to him through Jesus Christ.
[1] Green, J. B. (1997). The Gospel of Luke (p. 431). Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.
Suggested Reading:
“Triggers: Exchanging Parent’s Angry Reactions for Gentle Biblical Responses examines common parenting issues that cause us to explode inappropriately at our children. Moving beyond simple parenting tips on how to change your child’s behavior, authors Amber Lia and Wendy Speake offer biblical insight and practical tools to equip and encourage you on the journey away from anger-filled reactions toward gentle, biblical responses.” (Amazon description)
“How People Change targets the root of a person: the heart. When our core desires and motivations change, only then will behavior follow. Using a biblical model of Heat, Thorns, Cross, and Fruit, Paul David Tripp and Timothy S. Lane reveal how lasting change is possible.” (Amazon description)
