They say we are our own worst critic, and I am sure in many instances that is a valid observation.
Take parenting, for example. As I look back on my childhood, I have only a few memories of feeling I was being treated unfairly, or misunderstood by one or both of my parents. As I have become more familiar with just how dysfunctional some families can be, I marvel that mine was (and still is) so functional and loving. Yes, I was spanked a few times for bad behavior, but never beaten. Yes, I was grounded on occasion for stepping out of bounds with rules or curfews. Yes, I got mad at one or another parent from time to time when I did not get my way. But honestly, that was so long ago it is barely a blip on my memory screen. Obviously it did not traumatize me.
However, when I came to be a parent myself (45+ years ago now,) those memories were a bit fresher, and I was determined to "do a better job" at parenting than my own parents had done. Sadly, no one gave me an instruction manual, and when I lamented my feelings of inadequacy and unpreparedness, my doctor told me, "Just love them." OK, I could do that.
I am here today to say, that is easy enough... but it is not enough. I love my daughters with all my heart. I have tried the "best I could with what I knew" to love them, teach them, and guide them. But, I have learned that these things do not happen by osmosis. In retrospect, it probably would have worked out better if I had been a little more intentional, a little less bound by my own insecurities and failures, and a lot less dependent on the concept that they would learn what they needed to know from church. Don't get me wrong, I am not blaming any of their excellent teachers for failing to accomplish the task set before them, but I am accepting that I fell short in fulfilling my own responsibility to fulfill the Deuteronomy 6:7 mandate: And you shall teach them diligently to your children and speak of them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.
I don't really have many memories of either parents or grandparents sitting down with me and sharing their faith journey, or even really praying with me beyond teaching me "Now I lay me down to sleep..." I basically mirrored their model of relying on Sunday school teachers to accomplish what is essentially our own responsibility to our children.
One doesn't need a theological degree to share the basic, foundational truths of what Scripture teaches in how we should live. Heaven sakes, to make matters easier, Jesus boiled it down to just two simple tests: Love God and Love Others. Everything taught in the first covenant falls into one of those categories.
Could I have done a better job? Absolutely! Would everything have turned out perfect? There are never any guarantees. (And don't bother throwing Proverbs 22:6 back at me: Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. That is a premise, not a promise.)
But here is the thing: I AM STILL A PARENT, so instead of beating myself up about shoulda-woulda-coulda, the point is to start every interaction with the right mindset. How can I speak TRUTH by my everyday words and deeds? Yes, loving them is a great place to start, but speaking the Truth in Love has to fit in there somewhere, and that is the part I am working at now. Respecting that they have their own free will and their own "testimony" to work out is also part of it, and that is something that is the biggest challenge for me. Because, in the end, I still love them, no matter what.
