It's sobering because kids are clearly plagued by the same problem as adults, a preoccupation with self. This self-centeredness marks their actions and behaviors and has the capacity to do a great deal of harm to their families, just like adults. It's refreshing because they haven't figured out how to lie and manipulate a situation to go their way, or if they have, they're usually not very good at it yet. I can see through their game and call them on it. Unfortunately, adults have the same self-centered impulse as children but tend to be much better at lying and manipulation to get what they want. They may not hit, scream, and throw fits (or they may - many adults do), but they can subtly subvert reality to work in their favor.
I have learned a great deal about love since working with children. Doing therapy with children is so different from therapy with adults that it has taken me on a very unexpected, eye-opening journey. I have realized that clearly establishing expectations and saying "no" are two of the kindest things I can do for children, not to mention practicing discipline. I aim to do formative and corrective discipline. Formative discipline is the instructive component of what I do, training them in appropriate ways of acting and interacting. This is largely peaceable. But when necessary (and it often is), I practice corrective discipline (marks, time outs, etc.) to let the children know their limits, to protect them from hurting themselves or each other. This is when I am faced with tempers and tantrums - crying, screaming, yelling, kicking, biting. I am fortunate to have support staff to help me with these. Strangely enough, I have come to expect tantrums and know that it means I'm doing the best I can for these kids. I want to encourage them, listen to them, support them - these acts show them love. But I'm really surprised by my experience of how much discipline shows them love, as I see them feel safe and comfortable in the structure I have established for them.
Children have taught me a lot about simplicity. They say what they think and mean what they say. In a world of adults constantly trying to say things a certain way or say what they're supposed to say, it is a relief to be in a black and white world with children. God keeps reminding me that His kingdom belongs to little children. While I may be resistant to working with children, because I think my strengths are more useful elsewhere (with adolescents or adults), He reminds me of how valuable my work with them is. I am greeting these kids at a formative time in their lives, and if I can reach them as children, maybe I can be one of those figures in their lives that impacts the kind of adults they become.
One of the sacrifices I have had to make in working with children is letting go of receiving approval or feedback. Working with adults, I could hear responses of how I was helping them with particular wisdom or insight for their lives. Children cannot give me the same kind of feedback. I have to be content to do and say all the good, truthful things I can, hoping and praying that something sticks. That they see love in me, even if they never acknowledge it. My supervisor calls me Johnny Appleseed, an apt description. I'm planting seeds without knowing what growth they will produce, praying with all my heart that God sovereignly gives them growth, guiding and transforming these young souls.
God has told me that I am in a season of being unseen. He is revealing to me that it does not matter if anyone sees or acknowledges me but Him, and in fact, He is purposefully taking me away from being seen in order to prune my desires and motives. This is a painful, humbling process of dying to the self that wants so much to be acknowledged. But I am thankful that the same formative and corrective discipline that I give the children entrusted to me is offered to me from a loving Father.
