The dog ate my homework.
The dog ate my homework.
March 16, 2010
Middle schoolers are experts at making excuses…for pretty much everything. “I didn’t do it” and “It’s not my fault” flow from their mouths much like toddlers and the word “No.”
And let’s not even get started on the blame-diffusing “I didn’t mean to start talking about her, but I was mad and it just came out. She knows I don’t really hate her.”
How do you respond to students amid their mistakes? And how do you encourage parents to press on when students repeat these mistakes so often?
If you’re the parent, how do you stay hopeful that your middle schooler will, indeed, become the person God created them to be amid a flood of “I didn’t do it’s,” uncontrolled emotions and unresolved conflict?
Maybe we should start with our own excuses.
I don’t know about you, but I have plenty of defenses for myself. I snapped at you because I’m tired. Lost my temper because that dish just fell on the floor and shattered. Said that word in that tone because you said that word in that tone first.
What’s your excuse?
Paul David Tripp says this about our personal defenses:
“What’s actually true is that when I come to the Lord after I’ve blown it, I’ve only one argument to make. It’s not the argument of the difficulty of the environment that I am in. It’s not the argument of the difficult people that I’m near. It’s not the argument of good intentions that were thwarted in some way. No, I have only one argument. It’s right there in the first verse of Psalm 51, as David confesses his sin with Bathsheba. I come to the Lord with only one appeal, his mercy. I’ve no other defense. I’ve no other standing. I’ve no other hope. I can’t escape the reality of my biggest problem—me! So I appeal to the one thing in my life that’s sure and will never fail. I appeal to the one thing that guaranteed not only my acceptance with God, but the hope of new beginnings and fresh starts. I appeal on the basis of the greatest gift I ever have or ever will be given. I leave the courtroom of my own defense, I come out of hiding, and I admit who I am.
But I’m not afraid, because I’ve been personally and eternally blessed. Because of what Jesus did, God looks on me with mercy. It’s my only appeal; it’s the source of my hope; it’s my life” (Whiter Than Snow: Meditations on Sin and Mercy 22).
We call them students because they attend school, but don’t middle schoolers study us more than they study for class? Our response to students amid their messes—big and small—is ultimately determined by how we deal with our own sin before God. We’ve outgrown “the dog ate my homework,” but sophistication doesn’t make excuses any more competent to wipe away sin.
“Have mercy on me, O God, because of your unfailing love. Because of your great compassion, blot out the stain of my sins” (Psalm 51:1).
~ Laura Wampach Slezak

