Under the Influence
The Hazards of Giving and Receiving Advice
Hammy Hamhuis, our favourite hamster ever, could sit still for hours watching a hockey game. He allowed one of my kids to loop a paper-crafted electric guitar over his shoulders. I loved to put him in our bathroom with the door shut so he could skitter around, unspooling the toilet paper and taking running leaps up the shower curtain.
Too bad I wasn’t as enamored at every moment with my children as with the hamster. My baby girl drove me nuts procrastinating at bedtime. Some nights I would hear footsteps pattering around upstairs. She’d be in her brother’s room eating Lego, or she’d be at my nightstand finishing off my half-enjoyed Mars Bar. Sometimes I’d tie a string from her doorknob to her brother’s doorknob so she couldn’t get out of her room.
One night, I heard clanking coming from her room and hollered up, “Get in bed!”
She called back, “There’s a monster in my room.”
“There’s no such thing as monsters.”
“It’s in my closet.”
Fed up with the silly games, I stormed up the stairs, stomped past the bathroom, and blew into her bedroom.
“Mommy, I can hear it in my dollhouse.”
Well, that was remarkably specific. And that’s when I remembered that when I’d stomped past the bathroom, the door had been open. I pulled out the dollhouse and lo and behold, the tiny monster, Hammy Hamhuis.
Jumping to Conclusions
Don’t we often jump to conclusions about our kids? There’s no monster in your closet. You’re not thirsty—you just don’t want to go to bed. You don’t want to hug grandma—you just want a candy. Nothing’s wrong—you’re just feeling sorry for yourself. Stop complaining about such and such—it’s not a big deal. But how would I know my child’s body and brain better than he knows it firsthand, from the inside!
I’ve jumped to conclusions about people I barely know. One’s too lazy; the other over-stresses about everything. One is exaggerating his aches and pains; the other thinks she’s so much better than everyone else. One’s too hard on his kids; the other wastes too much money on them.
A few years ago, I reminded my husband of something bad a relative had done. “That was a long time ago,” he said. And it was. Probably twenty years had passed.
A few weeks ago, I told my son something dumb someone had written in a Facebook post.
“When was that?” he asked.
“When he was in high school.”
“He was young,” my son said.
That’s mercy. I want to learn it. I would certainly not want someone to judge me based on so little so long ago. My Oma used to say, “We don’t even understand ourselves. How could we understand other people?”
I don’t think we realize how absurd it is until someone does it to us. Until we lose a child or spouse and someone says, “It’s been a year; shouldn’t you get over it?” Until our child has a behaviour disorder, mental illness or learning disability, and someone says, “He just needs a good spanking.” Or like my friend who got advice after separating from her husband of forty years: “I was at a meeting with your husband last night, and he’s a good, good man.”
The Danger of “Advice”
We have influence, whether on one child or millions of people. It strikes me that I should be careful about my articles and Facebook posts which may linger in the ether forever. James says “Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 3:1).
Josh Harris wrote I Kissed Dating Goodbye when he was 21 years old. Twenty-one years later (and 1.2 million copies later), he asked publishers to discontinue printing. “I no longer agreed with the central idea of I Kissed Dating Goodbye—that dating should be avoided. Instead, I now believe dating can be a healthy and valuable part of a person’s growth. It can help someone develop relationally, learn about themselves, and understand the qualities that matter most in a partner.
“I saw my book had many flaws. In my effort to set a high standard, the book emphasized practices like avoiding dating and kissing before marriage and concepts like “giving your heart away”—things that are not found in the Bible. I see now that, in trying to warn people about the pitfalls of dating, the book instilled fear in many readers. Fear of making mistakes. Fear of having their hearts broken. Fear of failing to live up to an ideal. Fear of their own sexuality.
“The book also gave the impression that following a specific methodology for relationships would guarantee a “happily ever after”—a perfect marriage, a great sex life, and a life free of relational pain. But life doesn’t work that way, and these outcomes are not promised in scripture” (Joshharris.com “A Statement on I Kissed Dating Goodbye,” 2023).
I Follow Apollos
While we can appreciate some ideas from political, cultural, or religious leaders and influencers, they will inevitably sin and lead us astray, perhaps even intentionally. “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves” (Matthew 7:15).
Even a recognized apostle, righteous as Paul, is not to be followed. “When one of you says, ’I am a follower of Paul,’ and another says, ’I follow Apollos,’ aren’t you acting just like people of the world? After all, who is Apollos? Who is Paul? We are only God’s servants through whom you believed the Good News” (I Cor 3:4,5).
There is only One whom we can trust: “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (I Cor 2:2,3).
Let us spend more time with Jesus and his Spirit, absorbing His influence and advice, so that we may have the mind of Christ. (I Cor 2:16). And may we trust the Spirit to be the best counselor for our kids, friends, and neighbours too.