CHAPTER 16
Parents Wise Enough to Use Word Pictures —Part 1
OVER THE YEARS, we’ve seen two aspects of parenting generate the most frustration and disharmony in families. The first has become a dirty word in many homes —discipline. Discipline problems can cause an unhealthy pendulum swing between a permissive and restrictive parent. They can leave parents feeling like a dictator or a broken record.
Isn’t there a better way to raise a child than raising our voices? Isn’t there an alternative to giving Lecture #202, which the kids have memorized? They even correct you if you skip part of it!
We wholeheartedly recommend several books on the subject of discipline.[68] Yet, when it comes to this crucial area of parenting, there’s one tool that’s often overlooked. This tool, a word picture, grabs children’s emotions and delivers a message of lasting conviction to their hearts.
Does that sound too easy? The next time you’re tempted to apply the “board of education” to your child’s seat of learning, try a word picture first. It can pack a tremendous emotional wallop.
That’s exactly what I (Gary) discovered years ago with my older son, Greg. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, the story I told him instantly stopped an unwanted behavior and still helps to shape a positive relationship between us.
Getting Back on the Team
When Greg was 12, a problem surfaced between us that I couldn’t ignore. It dealt with his reaction whenever I flew out of town for a speaking engagement.
On the day I was to leave, everyone in the family would help me pack. Then, at the door, they would always send me off with a “Go get ’em, Dad!” or “We’ll miss you!”
However, when Greg entered the sixth grade, I noticed he no longer was an active part of the going-away party. Instead of lingering at the door with the rest of the family, he would walk away. Soon, his behavior wasn’t limited to avoiding me on my outbound trip. For several hours after I returned, he would often keep his distance.
As time passed, he went to great, creative lengths to give me the cold shoulder. Even when I tried to catch him for a moment of conversation, his words were frigid. “Later, Dad,” he would cut me off. “I’ve got to go over to one of my friends’ houses now.”
As a counselor, I realized his actions largely reflected his feelings about my traveling. But I also realized I couldn’t abandon my monthly trips and still feed my family. Plus, allowing him to ignore me at home and letting his anger build up when I left wasn’t doing either of us any good.
Furthermore, I didn’t want him to develop a pattern of ignoring others when he was upset with them. Nor did I want him perfecting a negative habit that could easily carry over into his friendships and, later, his marriage. Most of all, I missed his friendship and didn’t want this problem to become a permanent wedge in our relationship.
So, I decided I would practice what I teach. On the next flight home, I came up with a word picture for him. I knew it would be effective, because I had seen others work over the years in hundreds of adults’ lives. But I had never tried to use them as a corrective tool with my children.
After the conversation I had with my son, word pictures became a permanent part of my parenting plan. In the years to come, I would use them with each of my children. With word pictures, I saw more positive change in less time than from any lecture I had ever given.
If you’re a parent who wants some extra ammunition for dealing with a problem situation, word pictures can help. I know, because the imaginary story of an all-star basketball player kept my son’s attention, right to the final buzzer.
It had been two days since I had returned home from my latest business trip. Sure enough, Greg was playing emotional hide-and-seek, but he didn’t want me to find him.
As was my custom, I would often wake up one of the children early Saturday morning, and then we would go out together for breakfast. This morning, it was Greg’s turn.
When I first woke him, I could tell by the look in his eyes and the way he shrank back from my touch that he was still upset. But when I mentioned going to his favorite breakfast spot, I put a choke hold on any ideas he might have had to avoid me.
Later, as we sat at the table enjoying stacks of pancakes and syrup, I began “painting” my word picture.
“Greg,” I said, looking him in the eye, “I need to explain something to you, and I’d like to start by telling you a short story. Are you up for it?”
“Sure, Dad, fire away,” he replied, swallowing a mouthful of pancakes.
“Let’s say you were a star basketball player on the junior high squad.”
It was the time of year for the college basketball championship. Like me, Greg was a rabid fan and remained glued to the television from the opening tip-off of the Final Four. With popcorn bowl in hand, he watched nearly every game of the NCAA tournament.
For years, I’d shot baskets with him and watched him practice, practice, practice by himself on our backboard at home. I knew the goal of his backyard heroics was to be good enough one day to be the star of the varsity team.
With all this in mind, I had selected and practiced a word picture that I thought would grab his interest. I certainly hit the bull’s-eye as I continued.
“For half the season, you’ve been the high-point man on your team and the leader in assists as well. Your fellow players and the fans love you so much that every time you go out on the court, they yell, ‘Greg-O! Greg-O! Greg-O!’”
My chanting his name in the restaurant brought a quick smile to his face as he devoured another pancake.
“Then one game, you twist your neck pulling down a rebound, and it’s really sore the next day. In fact, it gets so stiff that Mom takes you out of school and into the doctor’s office.
“After looking you over, the doc says you must wear a plastic neck brace and can’t play or practice for the next three weeks. Sitting out of the games is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You can only watch your teammates from the stands and dream about playing alongside them.
“Twenty-one long days and nights later, you’re finally ready to throw away the neck brace and get back on the team. But something happens your first day back at practice.
“Instead of the players crowding around, cheering and telling you how glad they are you’re back, they ignore you! The guy who took your place is especially cool. Even the coach acts like you never were that important to the team. And in the games that follow, he doesn’t put you in the way he did before your injury.”
From the moment I mentioned basketball, I could see in his eyes that I had picked the one subject that captured his interest more than what he was eating. I had done the impossible. He had actually put down his fork to listen to my story.
“If something like that happened to you, big guy, how would it make you feel?”
“I’d feel terrible, Dad. I’d want to get back on the team.”
Returning his look, I paused before saying, “Greg, do you realize that at least once a month you’re treating me like this coach treated you in my story?”
“No! I’m not doing anything like that,” he said emphatically. “I love you, Dad. I’d never try to make you feel terrible.”
“Greg, I know you don’t realize it, but every time I leave on a trip, you act just like those guys on the team. For several hours after I’m back home, you reject me and don’t want to let me back on the family team.
“If my boss tells me I have to go out of town and miss three days at home, you often keep me out of the game when I get back. Like the guy in the story, it hurts to be sitting on the bench —especially when I don’t understand why you won’t let me back in the game.
“Greg, I want to be a part of your life. I want to get back on your team when I come home. It hurts being rejected by you, and it’s not doing you any good to build up anger against me.”
That morning at the table, I saw the light of conviction and understanding dawn on my son’s face. He was so caught up in the emotions my story generated that he said he was sorry for ignoring me. Even more spectacular, he assured me things would be different from that moment on. He still wasn’t crazy about my traveling, but he said he would never again purposely ignore me.
To be honest, as we drove home and I listened to my son’s promises about the future, I couldn’t help thinking, This all sounds great, but he’s only 12! There’s no way he’s going to remember this.
However, the first test of my doubts came all too soon. Only a few weeks had passed when I was packing my bags again. But this time, along with the rest of the family, Greg helped me get ready. And like everyone else, he even hugged me before I left.
I walked outside feeling surprised, relieved, and thankful for my son’s change of attitude. Just as I reached the car and started to open the door, he called to me from the front porch. With that classic grin of his, he said, “Have a great trip, Dad. And get ready to be rejected when you get home!”
When I got back from my trip, he didn’t ignore me. And he never has since. As the result of one shared breakfast and a word picture used to sweeten the conversation, we dealt with a problem that could have mushroomed into an angry, distant relationship between father and son. Once again, I saw the personal value of using word pictures with children.
An emotional word picture can help sharpen and extend your parenting skills by maximizing your words. It also helps you whittle many problems down to size.
A Second Parenting Frustration: Losing Perspective in Tough Times
If there’s a subject we get asked about as frequently as discipline, it’s facing the difficult two-year-old and teenage stages. Those can both be an uphill climb for sure. That being the case, how can a word picture help parents gain the patience and encouragement to face a problem age or to “hang in there” during a difficult time?
Let’s look at the word picture one young woman used to give us an answer. For years, this woman dreamed of being a mother. Yet the very day her dream came true, it was also shattered. It wasn’t until she put her feelings into a word picture that she finally got a handle on her emotions and expectations.
Her word picture has given her the hope and courage to continue being the best parent she can be, even when she’s tempted to collapse inside. Here’s how she expressed it to us:
“I had always dreamed of owning a beautiful vase —an expensive one, handcrafted just for me with exquisite curves and intricate details,” she began.
“I spent hours thinking of where it would best fit in my house and how proudly I’d display it. I’d picture it being the first thing a relative or guest would see. It would capture their eyes and generate their praise.
“Finally, the day came when I was to pick up my precious vase. Neither the years of waiting nor the pain of its price tag could dampen my joy —until I was handed a crushed vase.
“Instead of the work of art I’d seen in my mind for so long, I was given a vase that was shattered into a thousand pieces. My heart was broken into as many pieces, and I cried long after my tears had run dry.
“For days, I felt there must have been a mistake. Surely someone else deserved a broken vase, not me. But slowly, painfully, I pulled myself together. That process began the day I held the broken pieces in my hands and vowed to put them back together. Although I realized the vase would never be perfect, I knew I could love it, cracks and all.
“Little by little, the pile of pieces started to take shape. As the days went by, I gathered more love and patience to glue them together than I ever thought possible. In time, I began to see a masterpiece growing from what had been a mess.
“But that doesn’t mean things have been easy. Two groups of people keep coming back time and again.
“The first group is larger and louder than I ever imagined. Every time these people walk by, they go out of their way to step on some of the broken pieces. They crush and grind them into the ground with their cruel words and contemptuous stares —until the pieces seem beyond repair. I always feel so helpless and frustrated when they parade by. I wish they’d leave and never come back, but they always return. With them around, I’m again tempted to see only broken pieces and smeared glue, not a priceless vase.
“The second group is much smaller but has a heart twice as large. Seeing the shattered pieces, these people kneel beside me and gently help me pick them up. One by one, they carefully help me fit each piece into place —almost as if it were their vase. Unlike the first group, these people leave me filled with renewed hope and love.
“If you haven’t realized it yet, the vase I’m talking about is my precious, handicapped child.
“I had always wanted a baby. But I was devastated when the doctor said she’d never be ‘normal.’ My husband and I asked God to give us a special love for our daughter, and He has. Of course, there are days when I tire of picking up the pieces. But somehow the work is easier now. So much love and commitment have already gone into cementing her life together that I can’t imagine loving anyone or anything more.”
For this young woman, picturing her precious child as a priceless vase helped her think through her feelings of love, hope, anger, confusion, and grief. It also gave us a graphic picture of what was going on in her life.
When the parenting task gets tough, emotional word pictures can flesh out hidden feelings and give parents an entirely new perspective. They can help lift their eyes above their circumstances and give them a viselike grip on their feelings.
The first two hurdles that trip parents are those of discipline and maintaining a positive attitude during tough times. Like an expert coach, word pictures can help you get over these barriers in winning form. In addition, word pictures can assist parents four other ways.
Not only can they help you get over the hurdles, but they can help you raise blue-ribbon children as well. They provide a legacy of love your children can carry with them for a lifetime.