Blessing Archives - Jodie Berndt

The Words We Speak to Our Kids

06.19.2020

What sort of words do we speak to our kids?

I’ve long been a foot-in-mouth gal, and whether it’s a joke that fell flat, an ill-timed lecture, or even an emoji that my children tell me that I’m using wrong (to paraphrase Inigo Montoya, “I don’t think that symbol means what you think it means, Mom”), I often ask God to set a guard over my mouth, especially when I talk to my kids. I read verses like Proverbs 18:21 (“The tongue has the power of life and death”) and I think: Dear God, don’t let me kill them.

Last week, though, I was reminded of the flip side of the coin–as in, the positive power of the words we speak.

As part of an Instagram giveaway for two new books about how we can love our sons and daughters, I asked folks to tell me how they showed love to their kids. I got lots of uplifting responses, from creative efforts like decorating a child’s bedroom door on the eve of their birthday to simpler (but no less impactful) things like baking cookies together or doing an adult child’s laundry when he comes home. Love comes in all sorts of packages.

I scrolled through the comments, liking them all, but I paused when I got to this one:

“I have a son. I speak out what I see in him that is good, and prophesy what is not yet in him as if it is!”

Speak to the good you see now

I speak out what I see that is good…

As parents, we can get so focused on “fixing” what’s wrong that we fail to notice what’s right, particularly when it comes to the things that not everyone sees. For instance, parenting experts tell us to highlight character traits more than accomplishments. A starting spot on the soccer team or a report card full of A’s may earn peer and teacher approval, but things like patience, wisdom, humility and perseverance equip a child to flourish in life.

Take a moment to consider your kids. Do you see the good in their hearts? Attitudes that bring honor to God? Speak them out! Make a point of telling your children–in person, or with a phone call or text–how you see God’s image reflected in them. Does your son pay attention to what people need? Does your daughter light up a room? Are they (sometimes) kind to each other? Let them know that you noticed.

Speak to what is “not yet”

…and prophesy what is not yet in him as if it is.

That’s the second part of the Instagram comment, and I can see some of you scratching your heads. But don’t get hung up on the word “prophesy.” Prophets aren’t just wild-eyed old men in long robes who predict future events or do bizarre stuff for God. Prophets are also people–regular old moms and dads–who “speak forth” God’s purposes, proclaiming and teaching God’s Word. These parents know the power that comes, sometimes without any fanfare, simply though the words that we speak.

Here’s what this might look like in everyday life:

Say you want your child to have wisdom. Envision that in his life, and speak words like this: “I can picture God shaping you into a wise and discerning young man. I have great confidence in your future.”

Or maybe you want your teen to show kindness and compassion to others. Say something like this: “I can see God’s hand on your life. I love how he is growing your heart for other people, and I admire the woman you are becoming.”

I realize that this might sound a bit..iffy. Like, you might worry that your teens will look at you sideways if you start talking like this. I get that. I hear you. But give it a try anyway. Because here’s the thing about speaking to the “not yet” in our kids: It doesn’t matter how old they are, what choices they’ve made, or how many habits or patterns look “set.” We might not have the power to change things with our words, but as we speak them over our children, God does.

God’s Word makes things happen

The Bible says God gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not. He creates new things out of nothing. He’s been doing this creative and regenerative work since time began.

(“Let there be light,” for example.)

God’s Word makes things happen. There is literally no limit to what he can do. Our words might not have that same sort of supernatural power, but they still carry weight. I like how the Message translation renders Proverbs 18:21. “Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit–you choose.”

Let’s choose fruit. Let’s look for opportunities to speak life to our children–both in what we see happening now and in what God’s word equips us to proclaim. Here are a handful of ways we can start planting for the harvest:

Heavenly Father,

May _____ know that they are your masterpiece, created in Christ Jesus to do the good things you planned long ago. (Ephesians 2:10)

May _____ grow in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with you and with other people. (Luke 2:52)

May _____ know that they are your special possession, called out of darkness into your wonderful light. (1 Peter 2:9)

Amen

❤️

P.S. Want to get your own copy of the books from my Instagram giveaway? Check out 100 Ways to Love Your Daughter and 100 Ways to Love Your Son from Lisa and Matt Jacobson:

And as always, when you order from these links, Amazon sends me a small compensation so that I can keep ordering books–and sharing my favorites with you. 🙂

Just a quick thought and a blessing

03.01.2019

One of the best things about being a parent is getting to watch your children grow up.

That’s also one of the hardest things, particularly when the paths our kids choose don’t line up with our vision for what “their happiness” is supposed to look like, or when we aren’t really sure what God’s best plan is for their lives. It can be easy, during those iffy or uncertain times, to be tempted to give in to fear, or to worry because we aren’t really sure what how to pray.

But let’s don’t. Instead, let’s take back that ground with a blessing, releasing our ideas and agendas to God and trusting Him to accomplish his plans in the lives of the people we love.

And if you’re in a spot where maybe you don’t love a particular choice your child makes, know this: A blessing is not the same thing as an endorsement. Rather, it’s simply a way of acknowledging God’s sovereignty in our children’s lives and inviting him to shepherd their future.

Just a thought. And if you like it, you’ll find a collection of well-loved “scripture blessings” in the Adult Children book.

For now, though, here’s our family’s favorite:

Heavenly Father,

Bless ______ and keep them; make Your face shine on ______ and be gracious to them.

Turn Your face toward ______ and give them peace. (Numbers 6:24-26)

Amen

Good Words for Bad Golf

06.29.2018

“You’ll never be any good. You’re too old to start now.”

The words were iffy, but the tone was loving, and I knew my friend meant well when he tried to dissuade me from taking up golf.

I ignored him. I mean, how did he know how good (or bad) I would be? I can spot an off-center window even if it’s just half-an-inch; surely, it couldn’t be that hard to line up a putt. It’s not like the hole moves, for crying out loud.

How hard could golf possibly be?

Pipe down, all you links-lovers out there. (I don’t really want an answer; that question was the rhetorical sort.) And besides, having played a grand total of two lessons, one clinic, and 12 holes now, I’ve pretty much got the picture.

You have to get the grip right. And keep your eye on the ball. And make that “L” thing with your arms. All on top of trying to find a skirt that looks halfway cute.

I get it, okay? It’s not easy.

Especially when every time you think about grabbing your clubs (and I’m up to three now; my plan is to learn them one at a time, then add on), you hear a voice in your head saying: You’ll never be good. You’re too old.

Words matter.

In fact, words satisfy the mind as much as fruit does the stomach; good talk is as gratifying as a good harvest. Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit–you choose.

That’s Proverbs 18:20-21 in The Message translation.

And it raises a couple good points. Like the fact that what we say (even in the nicest of ways, bless her heart) can build people up, or rip them apart. Our words can bear fruit…or bring poison.

And it’s up to us to decide.

But instead of dwelling on all the ways we’ve gone wrong (which would be like talking about how many times I chunked it in the clinic last week, which is how I wound up Celebrexed in the bed), let’s look at how we can do right.

Like, instead of cursing someone (whether it’s with a four-letter word, or a slur on their golf game–or their parenting style, or whatever), let’s look for ways to build up. Let’s be alert to the opportunities God gives us to encourage. To speak freedom and hope. To spark joy.

Let’s be Givers of Life.

But…let’s also be honest. On our own, this job might be tough. Our fuses are short, and our speech patterns (which in my case tilt toward sarcasm) may be pretty well set. Plus, Charles Krauthammer–who never used a bad word when a really good one would do–is gone.

Thankfully, though, we don’t have to go it alone. We can enlist the Lord’s help. Even now, Philippians 2:13 reminds us, he is at work, giving us the desire and the power to do (and say!) what is good.

Even (and maybe especially?) when we run into somebody who looks like they could use a blessing–some sort of hopeful and encouraging word–spoken over their golf game. 🙂

Heavenly Father,

Let us be speakers of life! Let no unwholesome talk come out of our mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. (Ephesians 4:29)

Amen

My Crazy Mother (and the Upside-Down Blessing of Love)

05.04.2018

I know Mother’s Day is still more than a week away, but when it comes to Major Holidays, you don’t want to wait too long to start celebrating. (At least that’s what I tell my kids.) Plus, I’ve been thinking about my own mother and how grateful I am for all the lessons she taught me–including the upside-down blessing that comes with repaying insults with love. Thanks, Mom…and Happy (almost) Mother’s Day! ❤

I could hear him back there, bouncing his basketball. We were on our way home from elementary school, together and yet not. Peter (the coolest boy in the whole third grade) walked twenty feet behind me. I didn’t look back.

Suddenly, the bouncing stopped. A split-second later, I felt the breath leave my body. Peter had thrown his ball and—since he was also the most athletic boy in third grade—it had hit me, square in the back.

I took off running.

Three blocks later, I burst through my front door. “Mom!” I cried through my tears, “Peter Mayfield [not his real name] just hit me in the back. With his basketball!”

My mother has never been known for her nurturing personality. She could tell I wasn’t seriously hurt and so, rather than letting me wallow, she pointed me toward the door.

“Jodie,” she said, “Peter will be walking past our house in about one minute, and when he goes by I want you to say, ‘Have a nice day, Peter.’

“And then…I want you to curtsy.”

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that my mom sounds a little bit crazy. And she is, in a crazy-good kind of way.

Like, when my 61-year-old dad was battling brain cancer and lacked the strength to get from the car to their condo, she told him to sit on the sidewalk. “Stay right there,” Mom said (as if my father had another option), and then she disappeared into the building. Five minutes later she returned, carrying the cushions from their lanai, a bottle of Pepsi, and a bag of Doritos.

(Which is how my parents wound up spending an entire afternoon sunning themselves in a parking lot.)

But back to Peter.

Per Mom’s instructions, I went out to the street and saw him, coming my way. Peter didn’t acknowledge me but, as he drew abreast of our house, I spoke up: “Have a nice day, Peter.”

And I curtsied.

(Having seen The Sound of Music at least four times before I turned eight, I knew how.)

If Peter was surprised, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked a bit worried. He probably figured my mother had called his—and that he’d be hearing about his behavior as soon as he got home. That’s what most moms would have done, back in the day. That’s what all moms would probably do now. But not mine.

Claire Rundle may have been short on maternal compassion and sympathy, but she was long on the Bible. She knew what it said. And whenever anyone tried to hurt her, or one of her kids, she always found a way to pay them back.

With a blessing.

“Do not repay evil with evil,” the Bible says, “or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.”

That’s 1 Peter 3:9. And it worked. Peter never bothered me after that day; in fact, we became friends. And my mom’s crazy counsel—to repay insults with blessings—has stood me in good stead, over the years. Because what I’ve found is that the more I try to extend kindness to people who hurt or offend me, the better life gets. It’s like grace finds a way to get rid of the sting.

You know, if you’ve been around this blog for awhile, that I have four children. They’re all grown up now, but I tried to raise them in the spirit of 1 Peter 3:9. I’m sure there were times when they thought I was as looney as I thought my mom was. I’m sure there were days when they thought I was worse. One year, Annesley gave me a homemade Mother’s Day card where she’d picked a word to go with each letter in MOTHER. Yeah. Check out that E.

Honestly, though? I didn’t care if my kids thought I was nuts. I just didn’t want them to miss out on a blessing. And so I encouraged them to invite the mean girl to their party. To bake cookies for our grumpy neighbor, when he complained about the noise that they made. To pray God’s richest favor over the middle school bully.

(I did not, however, ever ask them to curtsy. So there’s that.)

But here’s the thing: Repaying meanness with kindness almost never makes sense, nor is it usually easy. But it opens the door to a life full of freedom and blessing—one that refuses to take up an offense—and for that wisdom nugget, I will be forever grateful to my mother.

She and my dad enjoyed their last parking lot picnic back in 2001, the year that my father went to be with the Lord. Mom got remarried several years later—her name is Claire Gilman now—and I LOVE my stepdad. John is just as generous and crazy as she is.

They downsized recently, moving from a big house to a small condo, taking only their most beloved possessions. As John pushed his favorite stone bench into place outside their new front door, a neighbor approached.

“That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen,” the neighbor said, inclining his head toward the bench. “Where do you plan to put it?”

John straightened up. “Well I guess I will put it wherever you like,” he smiled.

And then he invited the man and his wife over for dinner.

(Claire and John Gilman celebrated 12 years of marriage last week!)

The Life-Giving Power of Blessing

02.16.2018

When George Washington was elected president, he rode to Fredericksburg, Virginia, to tell his ailing mother the news. The conversation reportedly went something like this:

George: Guess what? They want me to be president.

Mom: I’m dying.

George, flustered: Well, as soon as I get settled in New York, I’ll come back and …

Mom: This is the last time you’ll ever see me. But go, do your job. That’s more important.

Can’t you just hear her? As a mom, I know I can.

And I can relate to some of the crazy things that Mary Washington asked of her son. For instance, when George was in the Pennsylvania wilderness, fighting a losing battle against the French (and facing dire shortages in everything from tents and ammunition to clothing and food), Mom wrote a letter requesting that he send her a servant and “some butter.”

I’m sure my kids would say I’ve done worse.

But here’s the thing about Mary. Even though she really was dying (she had breast cancer) and could do nothing, tangibly, to help her boy do his job, she understood the power of words. And as they wrapped up what turned out to be their very last convo, she sent her son off with this charge:

“Go George, fulfil the high destinies which Heaven appears to have intended for you; go, my son, and may that Heaven’s and a mother’s blessing be with you always.”

Our words carry blessings and curses. Or, as Proverbs 18:21 puts it, “The tongue has the power of life and death.” Which kind we speak–words that breathe life, or words that can cripple–is up to us.

And, strange as it sounds, the person our words target doesn’t have to be doing something we like or approve of in order for us to give them a blessing. Grumpy neighbors, irascible co-workers, wayward children—these folks are all candidates for favor. Ma Washington certainly didn’t agree with all of George’s plans and decisions (she told him that joining the Royal Navy was “too dangerous”), and yet she covered her son with life-giving words.

If it seems awkward to bless a child (or anyone else) who does something we don’t like, or who has made a choice that we believe runs counter to God’s commands, consider this: a blessing is not the same thing as an endorsement. Rather, when we bless our children, we do the same thing God does when he blesses us: He speaks favor over our lives and points us toward the abundant life he wants us to enjoy.

In blessing someone, we turn them over to God, trusting him to give them a vision for using their talents and abilities, as well as a sense of purpose in life. It’s never too early to do this for our children; consider Hannah’s words when she brought her young son Samuel to the temple: “For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord” (1 Samuel 1:28).

Nor is it ever too late.

Mary Washington was 80 years old when George was elected, and she died five months later. I’m sure, though, that her final words stayed with him forever. And I pray that as I parent my own adult children (and call them at work to ask them to help me with Facebook—or at least send me some butter), I would give them the very same gift: The knowledge that “Heaven’s and a mother’s blessing would be with them always.”

Is there someone who could use an encouraging word from you today–maybe a co-worker, a child, or a friend over whom you might speak God’s favor?

Numbers 6:24-26 is one of our family’s favorite blessings (and if you like it too, see below for ordering info). It’s one that Robbie and I prayed with, and for, our children as they were growing up:

Monday is Presidents’ Day. Let’s make these life-giving words our prayer this week, using them to forecast God’s favor over our family, our friends, our co-workers, and–whether you like what he’s doing, or not–the guy who got Washington’s job.

Heavenly Father,

Bless ______ and keep them. Make your face shine on ______ and be gracious to them. Turn your face toward ______ and give them peace. (Numbers 6:24-26)

Amen.

(The image in this post is of a beautifully crafted 5 x 7 print that I purchased in December as a stocking stuffer for our girls. It’s still available from @snowandcompany, and if you’d like to order your own copy, click here. And if you want to read more about blessing and releasing our kids, check out chapter two in Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children. It’s available as a free download at jodieberndt.com.)

Power and Purpose in a Family Blessing

11.11.2014

When my mother was a young girl, her mom used to send her kids out the door each morning with a charge: Walk with the King today, and be a blessing.

Whether or not my mom and her siblings knew it, these words—spoken regularly, and with the authority that comes with being a parent—shaped their lives. They served as a daily reminder of God’s presence (“Walk with the King”), and they injected a sense of purpose into even the most routine or unremarkable mornings: Your mission today is to be a blessing.

Robbie and I adopted the practice of speaking blessings over our children when they were very young. Sometimes we spoke or softly sang these words in the tender darkness of their bedsides; sometimes, we practically hollered them at the kids as the school bus rumbled up the street and everyone scrambled to find coats and backpacks.

We had a few favorites, all taken from the Bible. Today, our kids (now ages 18-24) might not be able to quote the chapter and verse, but these words are locked in to their minds:

May the Lord bless you and keep you; may he make his face shine on you and be gracious to you. May the Lord turn his face toward you, and give you peace.

(Numbers 6:24-26)

The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. The Lord will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love. He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)

And this one, which the children simply called, “Presence”:

Where can you go from his Spirit? Where can you flee from his presence? If you go up to heaven, he’s there. If you make your bed in the depths, he is there. If you rise on the wings of the dawn; if you settle on the far side of the sea, even there his hand will guide you, his right hand will hold you fast. (Psalm 139:7-10)

The Bible is full of verses that can be appropriated and personalized to create your own family blessing. You’ll also find rich words in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, the Methodist hymnal, and even The Fiddler on the Roof. (Our kids had bit parts in that high school musical, and family blessings don’t get much better than the Sabbath Prayer: “May the Lord protect and defend you, May he always shield you from shame…” I could have sat through that number, with Tevye and Golda warbling about things like peace and strength and good marriages, 15 times. Come to think of it, I probably did.)

If you’ve never spoken a blessing over your family, start today. If your children are young, snuggle them into your arms as you speak. If they are prickly teenagers, a simple “The Lord bless you!” as they walk out the door can penetrate even the thickest shell. And if they are adults, consider writing a letter of blessing, or giving it to them as a gift for birthdays, Christmas, or as a New Year’s benediction.

A family blessing does not have to be eloquent, complicated, or long. Simple works. But I can’t think of an easier—or more powerful—way to speak God’s grace over your children, and to remind them that he loves them and that his power is active in their lives.