Most of the time I’m the one getting schooled by my two young girls, but there was this one time . . . this one, precious, historic, etched-indelibly-into-the-recesses-of-my-memory-time when the honor went to my husband:

“So this Andrew Peterson song about Moses, it’s talking about a story where these two guys, friends of Moses, had to hold up his arms so that the Israelites could win a battle.”

“Uh, dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you talking about Aaron and Hur?”

*blink*

He might have licked his paws a little. But then we high fived—his big, strong, freshly-nicked, dad paw and my regularly bloodied and bruised mama paw, for you see, it’s I who checks the Bible homework.

Getting Schooled

When it comes to getting schooled in Bible knowledge by our kids, I hope we’re far from alone. Those of us raised on the American dream may draw a parallel—our great-grandparents wanted better for our grandparents and our grandparents wanted better for our parents and our parents wanted better for us and here’s where I want to make one very clear distinction: we want our girls to be able to turn to Nehemiah without having to reference the table of contents. (Guilty. Literally just last week.) For our kids can “have it better” by the world’s standards, but without the indelible etchings of the eternal Word of God onto their hearts and minds whatever their “arrival” looks like will be empty and void unless they can place it into the scaffolding of God’s eternal plan.

My kids know way more about the Bible than I do and I will gladly shout it from the rooftops. My elder offspring asks me why I keep her Bible sheets filed away in my drawer—maybe she worries about plagiarism in my line of work (and maybe she should: I see you, third grade teacher and your mind-blowing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory idol narrative parallels). The truth is I keep them because I’m learning alongside her.

Steady On

This is not a treatise on Christian schooling or a guilt trip on family devotions or an inquest into whether or not you read Jesus Storybook Bible last night before bedtime. Sheesh. Can we all take a breather? It is, however, a reminder to me, to you, to us to keep going. To keep speaking of God’s Word and ways “when you are sitting in your house, and when you are walking by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” (Deuteronomy 11:19)

(I do hope you packed a snack—it’s taking me a while to get where I’m going.)

In my former life I was a high school foreign language teacher, Masters degrees and all. And I can’t stop thinking about this little thing they taught us in grad school—a Stephen Krashen model of learning called input hypothesis. (The Wikipedia deep dive is practically melatonin. Dr. Krashen, my apologies, but readerfriend: you’re welcome.)

Input hypothesis states that real competence (and not just learning) is achieved when, as a learner, we are presented with the level of input we are accustomed to (i) and then pushed one bit further (i + 1). In other words, a child will reference a car as a beep beep, a vehicle, or an automóbil depending on whatever input (i)—and quantity of Fancy Nancy books—you provide, and then you build from there. You’ll keep pushing their competence higher as i + 1’s stack taller and wider, or scaffold off one another.

Whether you say “Let’s get in the beep beep,” or “Let’s clamber into the accommodations of our vehicular moving device,” your learning child will take the input and demonstrate mastery when they say the “vehicular moving device go.” Then we’re going to cheer and throw a party for their very first sentence. . . and subsequently keep adding on. We add from their new level of i, and then again that new i to the next +1. . . ad infinitum, building our very own scaffolding for their learning.

Dr. Krashen + the Bible

Jump with me back to the lecture at hand: God’s Word. If this input hypothesis model really is how we learn, hey let’s for real not mess around with the input. Let’s up the game from “beep beep.” Let’s talk about substitutionary atonement and Joshua in the battle against Amalek and the names of God. Let’s use words like covenant and providence and confluence and shamelessly Google federal headship to make sure we understand it correctly. Let’s ask our pastor friends what the hey hey is a Nephalim and oh my goodness can we also use the “because of the angels” as needed for the everyday unexplainables? (1 Cor. 11:10)

Readerfriends, can we grapple with a big God? And can we let our kids watch and, dare I ask, participate?

We get to choose what we talk about at home, and around the dinner table, and while passing back Goldfish crackers in the ballet shuttle. (There’s not really a shuttle—it’s just me.) We get to choose our input and we get to decide whether or not the return challenge of their level of mastery will drive us to shame or to the cross, and then to our Bibles.

As for me and my house, we choose the +1—no matter whether it’s the grownups or children pushing the scaffold that one level higher. We choose to get schooled by our kids all the stinkin’ time.

xo,

Holly from @hollymacklebooks

Faith Forward Family Devotional is written for families with children of all ages to help equip and inspire you to raise another generation to love and serve Jesus.