Let Christ Grow in You

I haven’t written in a while and that is because it is summer. A change in routine always shakes up my interior world and it usually takes a few weeks for my mind to settle enough to focus on a process like writing.

The change in routine also naturally affects my children. With the guardrails of a highly structured schedule gone and the introduction of new dynamics through camps, classes, and playdates, it is no wonder that inevitably there is some emotional turbulence to work through.

Particularly for my two young sons, summer means a sudden increase in time together. Though their bond is deep, as brothers they are not immune to sibling annoyances, frustrations, and competitiveness. Now both out of school, their circles of life are looking more like an ever merging venn diagram. Several recent eruptions between them has really begun to exercise my mediation abilities.

It has also led to several valuable one-on-one chats. Though I would not ever choose conflict as the grounds for being able to speak with them each on a much deeper level, I am thankful for the opportunity it presents.

I am grateful both of my children possess strong faith. But I am always a little resistant to speaking about Christ’s expectations of them in correction because I fear (inadvertently) creating a dynamic that feels more like something to rebel against than something to turn toward. And yet, as they have grown, the need for these conversations becomes more evident.

In the most recent one, we discussed pride as sin. Luckily, they already have some framework around the humility Christ exemplified and that we are to emulate. This framework helped me frame pride as a reverse image of that.

If relational humility means you don’t have to always be right, you can make space to hear the other person’s narrative, you want others to succeed, you want to celebrate other’s successes, and you do not have to defend yourself when corrected, then relational pride would be making up your mind that only you are right, not allowing others to share their viewpoint, placing your self, your hurts, or your wants and needs above others, and expending all your energy in a mode of defense.

Conversations of this nature with my children are hard. They also tend to feel a little hypocritical. How can I chastise my children on pride, as if there aren’t days I smugly choose my own narrative over someone else’s, as if there aren’t days I dig into my own stubbornness to be “right,” and sulk to myself that the other person’s actions were purely meant to harm me.

I try to counteract this feeling of hypocrisy by simply admitting my faults and explaining that we, all of us, are prone to these ways, but reinforcing that every moment we have a choice to choose differently. Rather than characterizing, I try to present humility and pride more like shifting “moods.” Because truly, that is what I observe. I see my children mostly humble and kind and gentle and loving. But every now and then, I see the storm of a prideful mood come over them and it rains down havoc on their relationship until something shifts in the clouds and the sunlight of their humility returns.

So we know these storms of pride come, often without prediction or warning. But because we desire to follow Christ, we must keep working toward humility.

Children have a way of pursuing clarity most adults lack. We are quite familiar with the perpetual inquiry of “why,” but my astute son asked me the second most infamous question of childhood determination,

“How?”

And I could really only come up with one viable answer.

It wasn’t to try harder. It wasn’t to focus more. It wasn’t to do more or be more. It was to,

“Let Christ grow in you.”

As room is made for Christ to grow, grow he will and his spirit will begin to permeate places it has never touched before. The peace he offers us is not an external thing that we take in, when Christ dwells in our hearts, his peace comes from within. Like a natural, bubbling spring, it is ready to overflow over every trouble in our lives.

As Christ grows, he shapes our views, he shapes our understanding, he overtakes burdened, barren, and broken ways of thinking and brings forth new insight. He blooms compassion where there is condemnation. He brings forth hope where there is devastation. He goes to work immediately weeding out the habits and hurts that keep us bound in our selfish pride.

And it dawns on me that this could be the answer to all of our grievances, much bigger than the “how” of getting along with your brother.

“How do I heal from this grief?

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I move forward from this devastation?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I manage this unbelievable stress?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I repair this horrible mistake?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I face this tormenting situation?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I end this harmful addiction?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I get through this?”

Let Christ grow in you.

“How do I forgive them?”

Let Christ grow in you.

My sons, young in their faith, have long possessed Christ in their hearts, but as they come into a new plane of development, it makes sense that now would be the time for conversations on how to let Christ grow in them.

And I know what a difference this will make in their lives, because I feel the impact everyday of Christ who is still growing in me.