Sympathy

Engaging Emotionally While Keeping the Boundaries in Place

When my brother-in-law retired from the U.S. Marine Corps, I attended his retirement ceremony on the base where he had been stationed. Two young recruits were also in attendance, but, unlike me, they were there to work rather than celebrate. The commanding officer told them to set up chairs, bring out the podium, and set up a table holding bottled water for the guests. Then he commanded them to sit during the ceremony. I kept looking over at them periodically. They were sitting sort of sideways with their profiles facing the audience. Their backs were perfectly straight, fists on knees, as still as statues. They did not move, flinch, or probably even blink for well over an hour. I began to pity them. I felt sorry for them. “Poor guys”, I thought, “it’s so hot out today and they are in those stuffy uniforms. I wonder if I should give them some water?” I could see the sweat dripping down their faces, yet they did not move. These two men were following the orders of their commanding officer. They were told what to do and they didn’t do anything else. Apparently, the advantages of obeying commands were greater than the discomfort of disobeying.

I have a tender heart. I never want anyone to suffer. I assumed those recruits were suffering. I feel sympathy for others in all kinds of situations, even where it’s none of my business or responsibility.

When I became a mother, I felt such sympathy for my child in every situation in which he might suffer. He didn’t want to go to sleep (he would suffer the loss of being with me and playing more!), so I let him stay up. He didn’t want to eat the food I presented (he might suffer some unpreferable flavors!), so he threw it from the high chair onto the floor, and I quietly cleaned it up in service and submission to the will and feelings my child dictated.

Guess what? Intuitively, inwardly, I somehow recognized his screams of protest as wrong. I just couldn’t sort out all the facts or put words to what was happening. My sympathy for my child decreased and my attitude shifted into annoyance and exasperation. I felt inadequate as a mother, as well as fearful because I admitted to myself that I did not like my child in those moments.

Thankfully, through some good counsel, I came to understand that what irked me about my child was that I was encouraging him to develop a major character flaw. I saw the error of my ways and had to get tough.

Sympathizing can be very beneficial. Children need their mothers to engage emotionally and to share their joys and sorrows. This is why they’re always saying, “Mommy, look! Watch me!” They want us to find those rocks and acorns and other treasured finds just as interesting as they do. They love when we play with them and put ourselves in their place to try to understand what they are experiencing. By sympathizing with our kids, we can come alongside them and gain their trust in order to guide them and train them up.

All children have weaknesses and make mistakes. So do we as adults. Our fleshly tendency is to rebuke or shame others for their missteps, and yet we know how it feels to be on the receiving end of ridicule. We are all far more likely to open up if we have first been shown understanding. When a child has sinned or is tempted to sin, it is a relief for him to have a compassionate parent there to whom he can confess his struggles. However, he will only do so if he knows his disclosure will be met with tender sympathy. If his parent shows no appreciation for his inner conflict and he is scolded harshly, he will withdraw and resolve to fight his battles alone, thereby creating a blockage in the parent-child relationship.

I see this very clearly with one of my kids in particular. He has often been known to throw things or rip paper or dump over baskets full of clean laundry if things didn’t go his way. If I spank or yell and try to control him, it does no good. He longs to be understood. No, he cannot get away with that behavior. But if long-term change is what I desire, I have to sympathize, get in his head, and come to grips with his mental and emotional state. Otherwise, he can’t receive from me. He remains angry and violent. To stand apart from him and scold him, tell him how he ought to feel and think and act is to dishearten him. But he is far better off if I stand with him and help him go down the more righteous path. Sharing in the delights and heartaches he experiences has caused us to grow closer.

What I mean when I say I had to get tough was to come to an understanding that placing boundaries in my child’s life was not causing suffering. Rather, it was the most sympathetic action I could take. My son needed rest more than playtime. He needed nutrition more than he needed to enjoy the taste of his vegetables. By complicitly following orders, those young recruits were trained for war, ready to take on challenges and fight victoriously against an enemy. Deciding to follow one’s whims doesn’t always lead to a better life. What we see as freedom and bliss can actually turn out to be chaos and sloth.

It is precious for a child to tell his parents of his failures with the certainty that his words will not be met with alarm and dismay. Today’s TV shows often present the average parent as an enemy of the child. I don’t wish for my child to view me as an adversary; I want to have sway with him, which can only be attained if there is also sympathy. Cultivating ties like this goes hand-in-hand with keeping boundaries in place.

Let me give an example of how this looks. My youngest daughter will often want to play with her older siblings’ belongings. When told no, she will sometimes become upset and cry. I’ve found that if I sternly demand, “Stop that crying at once,” she will cry more. She has been denied the desirable item and now her favorite person (Mommy) is irritated with her. Instead, if I say, “Oh, you wanted to play with that? I know it looks like fun.”

Pause as she looks up at me with giant brown eyes. I smile widely.

“I’m sorry it’s not available to you. It belongs to someone else and our family rule is we don’t touch things that do not belong to us. Let’s go play with your toys.”

She will then, 99% of the time, walk away happily to find her own entertainment. She simply needs me to see her point of view and to show her that I feel her sorrow in being denied the exciting item.

The 1% of the time where she does not comply and continues to throw a fit is the time for discipline. I’m reinforcing the boundary. She feels secure knowing that the line has not moved. She is becoming equipped for battle, just like the recruits.

With my first son, I was of the mindset that he should get what he wants because being a good mom means making my child happy, right? Wrong! Back then, I probably would have tried to convince the owner of the coveted item that my son should be allowed to play with it. That is misplaced sympathy.

Getting tough as a mom has grown both me and my children in self-control. In moving towards becoming what I want my children to be, I am providing a first-rate example.

You can do this too, Mama! Get tough, set the boundaries, and respond sympathetically. It’s a more restful way of life, and when you train up a child in the way he should go, he will not depart from it. This is a loving promise from God.