At my twenty-year high school class reunion, I had a chance to visit with the father of one of my classmates. This was a man I had admired from childhood. In conversation, I asked him about his talented younger daughter. When he told me briefly about her life, I congratulated him for the good things she has accomplished. His face pained, he expressed that some of her choices were not what he had hoped for her. He leaned closer and with great intensity he added, "But you pick your battles, Daunell. You pick your battles."
This brief exchange has been one of the most significant events of that reunion weekend: I know little enough about this man's parenting, but have often thought of his earnest face and how his remark has urged me to become a more deliberate mother. Whatever he may have intended to communicate, his comment continues to remind me to "pick my battles" carefully.
Love comes first. Foremost in such a discussion is love. Many times when we talk of "picking our battles," we mean that we feel forced to choose between maintaining a relationship or abandoning our principles; we seldom consider ways that such "battles" may be an expression of our love. Often, the way we frame something changes the way it is received: timing, tone of voice, and the wider context of a loving relationship can allow me to be direct without communicating that I am in "attack mode."
Advocate for, don't fight against. I don't really want to fight
against my children. When they were younger (and even now, as they grow up,) I have been willing to defend them -- to advocate
for them. Ideally, in our family relationships we can
battle against error and evil together; this is a battle I willingly pick. Because I know there is a God who has defined truth and goodness, my role as mother means that for life's battles I must
personally learn and teach God's true principles to my children
. Who is right is less important than
what is right.
Seek divine help. We don't live hypothetically, so each mother needs personal inspiration to know how best to face each challenge. The fact that something seems to work at one time or with a particular child is not proof positive that all similar situations should be handled the same way. God knows us and our children and leads parents to know what to do in our real parenting challenges -- but we have to listen and obey.
Calm courage. Wading into a worthwhile "battle" takes sustained courage. When you know your position is God-directed/based on true principles, it is easier to remain calm and consistently defend right without becoming defensive.
Hold the line. I remember my mother often saying that raising children is like containing cattle in a field, and that the fences are a comfort to both the cattle and the rancher. She grew up on a ranch and had noticed cattle bumping up against electric wires -- occasionally shocking themselves on purpose -- then grazing contentedly after finding the boundaries remained strong. We can expect that our children will likewise vigorously test the boundaries we have established and that they will later sometimes brush against them to see if they are still there. Like a protective fence, it is a mother's job to hold up the bounds -- even when complaints against them are loud and manipulative. The knowledge that a fence is a moving target is an enemy to peace, inviting perpetual, painful testing!
Nip it in the bud. The most effective battle-picking happens when I take care of problems before they grow big and ugly. This means starting when children are young and arresting issues before they have a chance to become problems: children may complain a little, but it is much less painful to discuss, establish, and enforce thoughtful rules governing television content, iPod use, sleeveless tops and dating than it is to spring it on an adult child that bringing his live-in lover home for Christmas is a violation of your family's policies.
I realize that these principles do not guarantee freedom from ever having parental challenges, but I have seen them at work. They give me power to act, rather than leave me feeling oppressed or acted upon as a parent. Yes, I pick my battles -- and when I am thoughtful, it usually means we all win and I don't even have to fight.
This past week, my youngest daughter brought up a problem that she faces at school with a classmate who wants a best friend -- which really means she wants to dominate my daughter's time and attention. My daughter wishes to maintain friendships with other girls in the class, yet her efforts to be kind to this desperate friend have meant that she has been manipulated to cut off additional school relationships. My daughter wondered aloud if she is obliged to continue showing kindness to the girl who often comes to the point of ridiculous rudeness in demanding her attention.
This is not a new problem; each of my daughters has faced a similar dilemma with friendships, and it usually starts by about fifth grade. It is essential for my daughters to learn to handle such situations kindly but with direction and strength: if a girl becomes accustomed to being prey to such manipulators in her girlhood relationships, she will be an easy target for controlling dating and marriage relationships later. But how she learns to handle it goes even deeper.
There are many "effective parenthood" ways for my daughter to handle her challenge, and this article is not written to enumerate them. After a discussion of several strategies, I am confident that my daughter will choose options that work for her situation -- and that this is valuable practice in motherhood.
