One of the peculiar things about living in a preacher’s family is the way strangers expect to see halos shining from all our heads. I say strangers. Our friends know better. They’ve seen little Franklin bite his sisters; they’ve seen Virginia and Anne and Ruth shouting or perhaps scrapping out on the front lawn.
Our friends are fully aware that, for all our striving to make God the center of our home, life in the Billy Graham household is not a matter of uninterrupted sweetness and light. And it’s not just the children. Our friends might very well have heard me moan to my husband, Bill, about how I can never muster enthusiasm for doing dishes three times a day for a family of six.
I love being a wife, mother, and homemaker. To me it is the nicest, most rewarding job in the world, second in importance to none, not even preaching. But I don’t like washing dishes. To me there is no future in doing the dishes, nothing creative. And they are always there after each meal.
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I’ve even tried placing a little motto on the window sill above my sink. It’s a motto I’ve had ever since high school, and it says: Praise and Pray and Peg Away. I made my dissatisfaction with the dishes a definite prayer concern and still I couldn’t seem to dig up much enthusiasm. But, as so often happens, my prayers were answered in an unusual way.
I took sick at Christmas time. It was Bill, then, who had to take over and do the dishes. What did Bill give me for Christmas? An electric dish washer. That’s not the end of the story. When Dr. James Stewart of Edinburgh was in Montreat this summer, we were discussing housekeeping as a divinely appointed task, and he told of visiting a Scottish kitchen.
Over the sink were these words: “Divine service will be conducted here three times daily.” Bill and I do try to make our daily duties a divine service. Take, for instance, the job of disciplining the children. We try whenever possible to deal with our children’s waywardness in terms of the Bible. I remember one time when Virginia, our oldest, who is nine, had to be disciplined.
I’ve forgotten what the trouble was now. But that day I took heed of the proverb: Spare the rod and spoil the child.* Virginia was sweet as sugar for three days after that, and then she came to me and asked: “Mother, why’d God ever create the devil and make me bad?” It was a good question, although actually it’s not too hard to answer.
We talked about temptation. We talked about how if there were no devil, there’d be no test of our love for God. And we talked about the best ways to fight back, with prayer and with long talks with Christ. The question of our relation to Christ is, of course, a very serious one in our house.
When I say serious, I don’t mean long-faced. You aren’t long-faced when you talk over a problem with a good friend. But from the time they were first able to talk, we have tried very hard to teach our children that Christ is their personal Friend as well as their Savior. And then, having prepared the soil, we let them grow in their own relationship to Him.
We try to start this relationship with the children’s first nightly prayers. One time Franklin, who is three, was disciplined for continuing to pick the cat up by its tail, and that night he said in his prayers: “Please help Mommy to be a good Mommy and not shut me in my room any more.” These first prayers aren’t ridiculous in the sight of a child, nor in the sight of the Lord.
They are a fine beginning. In time, we try to show our children, by our own example, the different ways to live close to God throughout the day. With four small children, the unexpected is always happening, like the time I heard little Ruth, who is four, break into a scream outside. I ran to see what the matter was and found her older sister smacking her first on one side of the face and then on the other.
“What on earth’s going on?” I asked the older child. “I’m just teaching her the Bible, Mommy, to turn the other cheek when she gets slapped.” It took quite some time to straighten that out. Nothing is ever rigid around our house. For one thing, Bill’s away so much of the time. Then, we always seem to be having visitors, both expected and unexpected. We even have a small zoo to keep track of.
We don’t count the temporary boarders like minnows and frogs and lame birds. As permanent guests we have a canary and a “budgie”; two patient and long-suffering cats, one of whom is so ugly we call her Moldy; and a dog, an enormous Great Pyrenees called Belshazzar. Because he eats so much he reminds us of Belshazzar’s Feast in the Old Testament.
Anyhow, with the four children and the animals, with guests coming and going, with travel, Bill’s work, and just the normal household emergencies, a regularly scheduled time for worship is a bit difficult. Of course, we try hard to have morning family devotions and evening prayers, and always we have grace before meals.
But I’ve long wished for a regularly scheduled private devotion period that makes a person feel he is living in the presence of God. For years now I’ve found two substitutes: One is day-long Bible reading which seems as natural to the kids as my preparing meals. The Bible stays open in the kitchen or around the house all day, and whenever there is a spare moment, I enjoy a few minutes with it.
When Bill is away and there is a problem, I find a lot of help in Proverbs. Proverbs has more practical help in it than any ten child psychology books put together. The 31 chapters in Proverbs and the 31 days of the month fit hand-in-glove. Then there is prayer.
Since we can’t always seem to find one set-aside time, both Bill and I have learned what Paul meant when he wrote: Pray without ceasing. *I THESSALONIANS 5:17 I heard of a lady once who had six children and a very small home. She had no place for privacy. Whenever life got too hectic, she just pulled her apron over her head and the children knew she was praying and quieted down.
I don’t do that myself, although I think it’s a fine idea. Instead, as I’m busy around the house, dusting, making beds, cooking, sewing — whatever has to be done—I think of Christ as standing beside me. I talk to Him as to a visible friend. This is part and parcel of our daily lives so that keeping close to God becomes as much a part of our children’s training as keeping clean.
Sunday, we feel, should be a day set apart. It is a family day for us, but even more it’s a day when we try to learn to know God better. It can be the most interesting experience in a child’s life. We don’t allow our children to play with their other playmates on Sunday, preferring it to be a family day. But we do have story books and coloring books, puzzles and games, all about the Bible.
And we have special treats, like candy and soda, which they’re not allowed to have on the other days. And we go up to our mountain cabin for the afternoon and sometimes for the night. All in all, we have a wonderful time with no one but the family around, and somehow on Sunday there is a minimum of bedeviling and a maximum of very enjoyable companionship.
It seems to Bill and me that the word “enjoyable” would somehow be missing if we tried to go too fast with the spiritual growth of our children, with their halo-growing as it were. We believe spiritual growth can’t be forced without raising a brood of little hypocrites. We prepare the soil and plant the seed, and water and weed and tend the plant faithfully.
But it is “God that giveth the increase.” *I CORINTHIANS 3:7 We’re willing to take our time and let growth come from the inside, through Christ; not merely from the outside, through our puny efforts. Yet, even if the motto I have out in the kitchen doesn’t apply too well to dishes, it does apply to children and the problem of growing halos.
Maybe the best thing, after all, is to Praise and Pray and Peg Away. The halos will take care of themselves.
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