More than twenty years ago, I received my Bachelor’s Degree in Music Education. Today my musical teaching is limited to helping my daughters with their private lessons, but my mind still thinks in musical terms. Recently I’ve been thinking about the similarities between a parent and a music teacher or an orchestra conductor. Music teachers, the first instructors for beginning instrumentalists, teach the basics and endure hours of repetitious and often out-of-tune practice. Parenting young children is often like being a beginning music teacher—you build the foundation and repeat the same instructions though the process is sometimes tiring and you may see little progress.
On the other hand, orchestra conductors direct instrumentalists who have mastered the basics and are ready to perform with other accomplished musicians. It is quite similar to the role of parenting during the teen years. If we parents do our job in the early years, our children won’t need the same level of instruction during their teen years. Instead of being music teachers, we become more like an orchestra conductors.
We make sure everyone is on the same page. You can imagine the cacophony of sound that would emerge from a symphony if only one player was reading music from the wrong page. Similarly, the beautiful melody of a family can only be achieved if we are on the same page. When the girls were very young, we tried hard to communicate what was important and why. We talked about what it means to follow God. We explained why we chose certain activities and didn’t choose others. Today, Harold and I try hard to communicate our goals and expectations not only for the girls personally, but also in regard to our schedule—what family commitments we have (We keep a master calendar.) and how each person can best serve our family during a certain period of time. Our children can’t read our minds. If I don’t communicate, I can’t expect that we’ll be on the same page.
We set the tempo of our home. As the girls have grown, so have the number of activities and opportunities they have opportunity to be involved in. When the girls were young, Harold and I discussed which activities were beneficial for the girls and for our family. Today, the girls come to us with requests and together we discuss the commitment and all of the ramifications to our family life and to our schedule. As a pastor, my husband has many responsibilities and commitments so we try to look at the calendar and set a reasonable pace for our schedule. We live in a fast-paced world that seems only to speed up with each passing year. We try to set a reasonable family pace, balancing busy days and busy weeks with times of Sabbath and refreshing. Some Saturdays we declare a family day—we disconnect our home phone and Harold turns off his cell phone. The world has much to offer to fill our days, but it’s our job as parents to set the tempo.
We direct entrances and exits. With two drivers who are very committed to church and attending college, I sometimes feel like we have a revolving front door. Our culture tends to accept the division of children and their families—children of all ages are involved in sports, music lessons, school activities, church activities, youth group, part time jobs, etc. None of these activities are bad in and of themselves; however when activities become a “drop and shop”—drop the kids off so you can do what you want—it can divide families. Give thought to the “entrances and exits” in your home. All too soon your precious ones will be exiting the front door to start their own home.
We control the volume. In a house of four girls, this one is pretty tough. Those who know our family well know that there is a certain level of excited chit-chat that accompanies our daughters. (Some call it noise; I call it happy sounds.) It is sometimes easier to live a life full of noise and activity than to take time to be silent and alone. It is important that we teach our children to choose moments of solitude so they can think, process, create, and most importantly, hear the voice of God. If the volume is turned up too loud, we may miss the still small voice of our Father.
We encourage each one to listen to the other. In an orchestra no one instrument should stand out louder than another, unless they are playing a solo. Each player needs to carefully listen to those around them. Listening can be a challenge in our home. It seems there is never a lack of response to any comment made by one member of our family. Most certainly at least one other member has an opinion or suggestion about the topic at hand. More often than not, I hear overlapping layers of conversation interspersed with laughter. I believe that all individuals, no matter their age, have a desire to be heard and understood. I sometimes feel that my job is to be the “conversation traffic police”—stopping conversations that don’t build each other up, encouraging one speaker at a time, and reminding speakers to slow down so I can understand. Monologues are like solos, but dialogues allow the beauty of each individual to shine through so that each one feels heard and understood.
If you are a parent, you are like a music teacher or orchestra conductor. You may not be capable of teaching piano lessons or conducting a large group, but God has given you, and your family, the ability to create beautiful music that will bring honor and glory to Him. Soli Deo Gloria.