Oh yeah?

I broke my leg three weeks ago. The day before I broke my leg, my 8-year-old son decided he wanted to learn to use the lawnmower. This was providence. Why? Because I somehow miscalculated the amount of hay I had left in my neighbor's barn (or someone helped themselves to it) and so in order to stretch what hay I had remaining, I needed to mow several wheelbarrows of grass per day for the horses. This is not a problem, as I have access to not only my own front pasture, but my neighbor's as well. However, with a broken leg, I am not able to mow it. So my mighty little man has won the job. He does not always do this with a willing heart. But he does do it. Of course, as he is only 8, I need to watch closely that he takes all the safety precautions I have given him. The grass is long and often damp and often clogs, at which point he has to shut of the mower and either empty it or unclog it. I feel like a broken record, telling him over and over to back up the mower off the pile of grass under the blade before starting it. Unfortunately, I have too often worded it in a way that triggers his Richter gene.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Richter gene (though I suppose it could also be labeled the "Smith gene"), it is that tendency of our family to stand up in the face of "It can't be done." I have been told that if you want to get a Richter to do something, you merely have to tell them it can't be done. Thus, when I say to my son, "Back the lawnmower up, you can't start it where it is." His Richter gene answers, "Oh, yeah? Watch me!" And one particular day last week, on the third wheelbarrow, when his "Oh, yeah? Watch me!" had earned him a sore neck and shoulder, and my thousandth chorus of "Back it up" was somewhat lethargic and unemotional, I finally added, "Well, you CAN start it that way, but IF you back it up, it will start easier." And it finally sunk in.

Then tonight, I had asked him to put our dalmatian in her crate, which is under his loft bed, before he climbed up, but he had forgotten, and he said, "It's okay, I can do it from up here, " and I said, "No, you can't reach it" triggering that ol' Richter gene, "Oh yeah?" Of course I move in with my crutches to try to close the crate before he gets to it, and also to catch him when he falls...which is what would happen....

So what is the deal? And how do I corral this spirit of his? I don't want to break it. I think this determination is a God-given attribute, and I know, that if directed properly, it will serve him well. But how do I direct his challenges away from needing to prove me wrong? I think part of this is coming in response to me needing him to do things for me because of my leg. I think he is gaining a sense of importance and "manliness" from being needed. But at the same time, I want him to respect me and not meet every "negative" thing I say with, "Oh yeah? Watch me!"

Perhaps it is simply the way I am wording things. But for the life of me, even if I word it like, "Maybe if you try it this way..." I am still met with resistance. He wanted to be in the horse pasture with me today when the farrier was trimming our pony's feet. I had him put some hay out for the mustangs to keep them occupied, and he was thinking he could play in the pasture with us because they were distracted. When I told him no, that I could not be in there with crutches AND look out for him AND hold Jake, he stomped his foot and turned his back to me. So I sent him inside. And I was right. Our horses have been so neglected because for 3 weeks I have not done anything with them, they were all over the farrier and I begging for scratches and attention....never mind the food.

Poor boy. He comes by this gene honestly. Whether it is indeed a Richter gene or a Smith gene, I suspect most families carry it. It is expressed more obviously in some than in others. But certainly, it is strong in me. I was the same way to authority as a child. I was telling a friend the other day how I used to steel myself when a spanking was coming and would not cry. Is he destined for a life of difficulty because he resists authority?

And I think about how God has dealt with me. It hasn't been with lashes and stanchions. A will like mine will only fight harder when confined. I have been like a wild horse at the end of a rope. God has just let me have plenty of rope, pulling on the rope gently to guide me this way or that. But over the years I have learned that the suggestion of the rope is generally in my best interest, and so I have learned to resist my first instinct to pull back against the rope, and have learned to trust the person on the other end. And it has been through building relationship and trust that God has tamed my spirit. Often, my first instinct still is to pull back; but it might only be a twitch now, rather than the battle it would have been in my youth.

I hope that God gives me the wisdom and the courage to give K lots of rope, and to calmly call him back, again and again and again......

(Suggestions are always welcome!)