My cousin and I spent a lot of time with our Grandma. Melissa was there more than me, but I enjoyed the days we went together after school or on Saturdays. She was always teaching us, which made sense since she’d taught in a one-room schoolhouse. I loved the drives we took around the countryside as she shared her experiences, where people lived, etc. We’d visit the dime store, go for ice cream, or visit one of her sisters.
As Grandma got older, we stayed home more often. She didn’t get around well. We had to run and get things for her as she needed them. It was a fun game sometimes, because we’d have to search for something in her house…kind of like “Where’s Waldo?” She’d remember something was in a certain room…but not exactly where it was, so we’d start with her general idea and start hunting. More often, we were gathering everyday items.
Including the yard stick.
Those were the days when a discipline swat was okay. No one called the authorities. A yard stick worked well for Grandma because she didn’t need to move much to reach us as we stood in front of her chair!
She might have said “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” but I don’t believe it. Having to get your own punishment stick and receive the swat is definitely worse. Okay, okay, I know giving the punishment isn’t easy either. I’ve agonized over many disciplines I’ve given the girls.
When have you had difficulty accepting discipline?
When have you had difficulty giving discipline?
It’s a good thing God knows what he’s doing when it comes to discipline. You don’t have to choose your own switch – like a friend of mine had to do when he was little. His mom sent him outside, but she couldn’t stop laughing long enough to punish him when he struggled to pull a large branch that had recently fallen from their tree!
When it comes to strength, God is stronger than I; when it comes to justice, no one can accuse him. Even if I were right, my own mouth would say I was wrong; if I were innocent, my mouth would say I was guilty. Job 9:19-20