I'll spare you the details leading up to the conversation but I found myself yesterday morning explaining to one of my spiritual sons that physical discipline (ie spanks...we were speaking in reference to spanking my daughter) is a very intimate exchange. He seemed baffled by the thought and openly admitted that he never once felt that it encouraged any form of intimacy between he and his father. To be honest, I was kinda surprised I said it myself. It was one of those moments where I was speaking about a topic as though I had spent years pondering it with the Lord and yet the truth is, it was a new revelation to myself as much as to the person with whom I was speaking. I mean, yes...I know what the bible has to say about God disciplining those he loves. But I never have considered it an act of intimacy.
I told him that the intimacy and trust comes when my daughter submits herself to me, knowing that my intention is to hurt her body but trusting that I will restrain myself even though I am unpleased with her behavior. She knows that I am stronger than her and have the ability to really hurt her but she trusts that I will not lose control and abuse her. It is a very intimate interaction. Do you see the delicate balance? The required trust? She fears pain and yet trusts me to unleash my discipline on her backside because she knows that while I can terribly hurt her, there is nothing farther from my heart than crippling her in any way.
It's similar to the way I view Jesus on the cross. His own father was going to unleash his fury over mankind's sin onto his son. God's hatred for sin had to be aimed toward his own son and yet the son submitted himself to the destruction of his own body knowing that the Father was in control, knowing him to be a good dad, understanding that if his father said it needed to be that way, then it was for his own good. He was totally surrendered to the love of His father. And yet how many times have we considered this bloody crucifixion to be an act of intimacy - even between the father and the son. How much trust do you think was required of the Lord as he endured the fury of his father? He must have been totally convinced of His father's love in a way that I certainly cannot fathom.
As I considered all of these things, I began to think about my own experience of being disciplined by my father. I though about how I felt when I was being punished and spanked as a child, during the fist fights and wrestling matches I had with my dad in my late teens. I did not feel loved, i felt rejected and hated, despised, inadequate, inadequate, inadequate. And this became a root of anger in my spirit. As all of these thoughts flooded my mind, I became overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry. Realizing God to be dealing with my heart, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to go to those places of my heart where I felt so angry and hurt. When I closed my eyes, I saw a picture of me beating myself. There were two me's - one with a whip, and one covered with blood. I know that sounds strange but it was the image placed before me. I had a whip in my hand and I was beating a very bloody me into a pulp. To be completely honest, it felt really good. Inside, I heard myself begin to cheer - Harder, beat him harder! More. It's what he deserves! Don't stop!
The more I encouraged myself to beat me, the more me ripped into me. I was still crying but it felt kinda good to beat me up. It felt good to release all that anger and pain, frustrations and disappointments with myself. After all, this way no one could get hurt but me. Then I heard the Holy Spirit speak to my heart...."He was trying to beat out of you what he hated about himself. Look again!"
To my horror, I looked down on my bloody self and did not see me but my children, my daughters, my unborn son, my wife. All that time while I was enjoying beating myself - taking out my anger and pain and frustration and legitimately feeling relief from it - I was actually beating those I love the most. I was enjoying mutilating my very own children and wife. The people I would never for a moment consider hurting. I guess the point is, you can't separate the two.
I just wept and wept. I cried out to God and repented for beating myself and confessed that I had done everything I knew to make my dad not hate me but the problem was not me. The problem was that my dad hated and was disappointed in himself. I repented for "beating" my wife and children the way my father had done to me and asked God for his healing touch. To uproot my anger and set me free from my self-hatred. To let me feel his love for me and to allow that healing to engage with how I love my friends and family. And may I never...EVER...be guilty of trying to beat out of someone else what I hate about myself.
Father, let this curse be broken off of our generation. Let us be healed so we do not continue the same mistake of trying to beat out of our sons what we hate or are disappointed about in ourselves. Heal our hearts and allow us to see ourselves the way you do. Cause it's the only way we will ever learn to really love.
