Tithing as Worship : Its Purpose Revealed
The purpose of tithing has always been the same.
In scripture, old and new testament refer to tithing as worship. The purpose is to remember and pay respect to God for all the things we have received. The act of giving in this way is based on sacrifice. Sacrificing means to give up something at a cost. Sacrificial giving is considered a reflection of the heart.
The Things No one Warned Me About: Setting Boundaries
Occasionally in our adult lives, we must set some boundaries. While there are many reasons to take such action, there are a few to stick with no matter the immediate cost.
We started setting boundaries at the very beginning of our marriage. A natural boundary was our living arrangement. We were young and he was in the Army. Naturally, we had to live where they told us. This meant starting our married life on the other side of the country in Washington State. Roughly 2000 miles from our hometown, friends, and parents.
What a blessing it turned out to be.
We had the opportunity to live together without the natural interference others bring. We got to set up our apartment and our own style of living. We decided on every little detail. Those first two years were exactly what we needed to prepare us for moving home.
The Things No One Warned Me About: Being the Adult Child
This is a new part of my life no one warned me about.
No one told me my parents would turn into our closest friends. No one explained we might have to have boundaries with my in-laws. I never had a single person share their real experience with me. I only saw their best photos and happiest experiences on social media. I read books about moms and daughters. I saw dads and sons on television. They were watching football, getting manicures or simply hanging out. I watched a lot of the Hallmark channel.
There were always issues which were quickly resolved. Not one of those public things indicated being the adult child would be hard. No one told me how much grace would be needed in both directions. No one talked about the private things. No one seemed to understand how important a heads up may be for all of us.
Here is your official heads up.
Remember when adult life was new and fresh?
Remember when you first got married, moved into an apartment, started your career or had your first baby?
Everything was shiny and new and your hopes for the future were broad. No one wanted to burst your bubble, so they didn’t. This is mercy. Trust me when I say, if you knew going into this process what I know now, you may decide to run away and never return.
Here is the newsflash-in some aspects, being an adult child is no different than being a child. These are the easy things.
- You are still required to be obedient to a degree. (when dad says please take out the trash you take it out)
- You still need to be respectful. (no cussing in front of mom.)
- If you want to borrow something, you still need to ask. (This covers tools, kitchen appliances, and cars )
- When you are disrespectful, it still hurts your mom’s feelings (maybe even more now that you are an adult)
- When you choose to do questionable things, your parents are going to be critical. ( these include legal and illegal activities)
- When you need disciplined, they may actually do it. (this is new for them as well, and they may be saving you long-term trouble)
In my experience, these were the easiest things to deal with. The hard stuff hit me like a train. For example, when my mom got sick and almost died. We found out quickly what being “one in a million” for health risks meant. When dad had his aortic heart valve replaced. One long day of surgery- many long days of recovery.
Both of these instances were followed by hurt feelings, feelings of abandonment and some anger on the part of my parents. They expected more from us than we realized. I was having a hard time because of the choices I had to make. I worked full time, had four kids and my husband worked full time. Trying to find a balance between caring for my parents and caring for my family was a tremendous amount of stress. Choices I didn’t want to make were being demanded from me.
Helping my parents through grief was another really hard thing. My maternal grandfather died, years later my paternal grandmother. My parents handled these very differently. In the end, both were difficult for me to witness. I learned how to and how not to grieve in healthy ways. I didn’t know how to be helpful.
Then out of nowhere, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. This was the catalyst for me to be the adult once and for all. I didn’t know how to feel, and I didn’t know who to turn to. Dad was my go-to person when I felt weak. I couldn’t go to him this time. I couldn’t go to mom either. They were already suffering enough. I needed a plan, and I had nothing. (not discounting my amazing husband at all- he is my earthly rock)
This is where the “How to Be an Adult Child Manual” would have been helpful. The level of emotion I was dealing with was tremendous. The rollercoaster of events which shaped this part of my adulthood is something I still cannot get my brain wrapped around. It is not reconcilable for me.
Pair this with the boundaries we had to draw, and my world felt like it was spinning out of control.
Why didn’t someone tell me how hard it would be? When…
- Chemotherapy started for my dad.
- Mom was afraid to leave his side out of fear.
- Family trickled in to visit.
- Dads career long co-workers didn’t know how near death he was, and I worked with them every single day, keeping his promise of privacy.
- My adult kids and almost adult kids had milestones, and my parents missed them.
- The oncologist gave us the devastating news of finality
- My grandchildren wanted their Papaw.
- He passed away and his suffering was over, but mine had just begun.
- Mom got sick again and was near death.
Simply put, who wants to talk about these kinds of things? No one wants to be a Debbie-downer. Couple this with friends who didn’t have any experience with it. Add on all those well-meaning people who want to see the glass half full all the time. Traditionally, we don’t speak of the hard or the bad stuff which happens in our lives.
We don’t talk about surviving- or not surviving a disease. We don’t talk about suffering or fighting or being obedient. We don’t write books about the hard things, we don’t share testimony about the devastating news. We don’t acknowledge the truth because, on some level, the truth feels like it binds you instead of setting you free.
What I want is to give you a heads-up. I want to tell you there will be bad stuff. But it is all laced with the wondrous grace given to us by Jesus. It is covered by him, no matter the suffering of your mind, heart, and soul. He has a plan. You are part of it, and so is your suffering. Your role as an adult child is a wonderful thing.
Go hug your parents.
They need to know you love them no matter what.
Unconditionally, exactly how they love you.
The Things Noone Warned Me About: Mothering Adult Children
I am the mother of four adult children.
It’s mind-blowing, to say the least. I have days when I shake my head in disbelief. These grown people have jobs, kids, and dogs. They rent homes, buy cars and grocery shop for themselves. They have commitments and responsibilities. The magnitude of this reality for me is simply, “We made it!”, because we were always hopeful.
John and I have accomplished something big. We have successfully turned out four adults. They are in the world, doing their own things. They have become our friends and closest allies. They are smart, kind and driven. Our children are amazing, each in their own way. I didn’t know it was possible to love them more, yet here I am. They gather around our table and I discover something I didn’t expect. Hope fulfilled by mercy and grace.
We were always hopeful and being hopeful brought us through.
The Things No One Warned Me About: Take One
When our oldest son told us he was leaving for Florida the day after his 18th birthday, I was stunned. The few days I had to prepare myself were not at all enough. I soon found myself standing at the airport, watching my baby walk through the security gate alone, and disappear around the corner.
My husband held my hand tight as silent tears streamed down his face. I sobbed and prayed all the way back to the car. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t fix the ache in my heart. There was no one to talk to about it to- there was no one to comfort me. I felt so numb that my firstborn was just…gone.
He was gone. He left me, he left his dad, he left us all. He hadn’t even packed up his entire room. He left almost everything behind. I think I went through some stages of grief in the following days.
Fast forward to the present day- two kids married and another out on his own. The one who left me has five children, all girls. One kid still at home. I have a notebook with big plans for all the bedrooms. They are all mine. I will have a guest room of my dreams, an office that is functional, and enough bookshelves to house all the books I have stored in every odd place I can find. Maybe even a room dedicated to baseball. If my husband wants a man cave I can’t argue that.
As I make plans I keep going back to the one question from when my son broke his mother’s heart and flew off to a warmer place: