Cain Theory

As a parent, I have been considering what I will call today the "Cain Theory."

Having been raised on a scripture foundation, the analogies of my parenting strife today are rife with accounts of Laman, Lemuel, Cain, Lucifer and the other biblical black sheep of the family.  For doesn't every family have one?  Or are they only considered the black sheep in comparison with their fairer siblings?  I'm not talking color of skin only here - although scripture and our family are rife with that pigmented contrast - I'm talking of the inevitability in a family with more than one child that one of them is comparatively naughtier than the rest.

What bothers me about my 'Cain Theory' as of yet is that I have no empirical evidence to show me statistically how many families feel like there is one child that is 'naughtier' than the rest, the black sheep.  I'm not just talking about ideologically different today, I'm talking of the one who was hardest to parent because they, well, were just bad somehow.  I have been considering this morning if this is a foster parenting problem or a universal parenting problem.  That's how it got to be the "Cain Theory."

Look, Cain and Abel, and all the rest of the start of the human family, all came from the same parents.  From the record we are given it is safe to assume that Adam and Eve were really great parents.  They taught all their children the laws of God.  They taught them all to garden, for it was in the garden that Cain got his ultimate revenge or punishment however you see it.  This morning it was in the garden that I watched one of my children exact her revenge on the world, one cucumber plant at a time.

As part of my personal parenting philosophy I will not give my child enough space to blame Satan for their actions (in fact, I don't know if Lucifer just wasn't painted as a devil until he was compared against Jesus but that is a deeper theological debate than is needed for the day).  I do believe there is opposition in all things, including our choice of how we use natural emotions.  It would be silly to deny that we all feel and that some of those feelings are negative.  Anger is real.  Frustration and fatigue are very real.  Just as real as love and joy and compassion.  Agency, which is told to be the greatest gift of God to His children (Christ's sacrifice was His own great gift) allows us to experience emotions in all their colors and make a choice as to how they will guide our lives.  To some degree, for at least a reasonable 8-18 years, parents have the obligation to guide the choice of actions based on feelings.  That is part of what parenting is right - teaching your children the 'appropriate' way to behave when under the duress of natural life.

It seems too easily metaphorical in the bible that Satan or his angels popped up right in the moment when Cain was feeling anger toward his brother and let him know exactly where to put that negative feeling.  I sympathize with Cain, working hard like the rest of the family, but always feeling cast in the shadow of Abel. And we have no evidence that Abel was the perfect brother.  Perhaps he was goading on Cain that day, I've seen it enough in sibling relationships.  Even the good ones can be downright vindictive when their parents' backs are turned.  So why is it that Cain got the curse of the family? And was the curse before or after the killing?  Who's to say that Cain didn't already know that he was the bad boy of the family and was just fulfilling their expectations for him.

I'll admit it - some of us have bigger inner dragons than others and in a group setting as tight as a family, that is not seen as an asset.  Some family members can feel like a liability.  As much as we love them, we continue to ask God why he gave us this  member of the family to help us experience the binaries of life.  But then I pause.  Is any of us so bad in isolation?  If my Cain were my only child, would I really be so up in arms today about cucumber plants uprooted?  Or would I shake my head, give her a hug and tell her she was being silly.  Was the disaster only so disappointing because the other two children had angelically completed their weeding singing songs and wanting to help longer than was needed?  Biblically, would Cain have been such a big deal had there been no Abel?

Despite my theory, there is still parenting to be done.  Principles of work, love, respect, and self-worth that will have to be gaged with or without the comparisons.  The point, I think, is to stop and think about how 'bad' any of us really are.  If the dragon of revenge wants to wield it's way through my garden and rip out one innocent plant after another, I shall be grateful that today she is only 7 years old and that there is still time to plant again.  Maybe Cain had ripped out a few plants prior to sinking a knife into his brother.  I don't know.  I just feel like today I have a bit more mercy for all those siblings who got painted black before really knowing that there had to be any comparison.

Squish, squeeze,...POP!

Today I feel like a pimple on Life's face.  I am irritated, agitated around the edges, and ready to pop.  I find it incredibly ironic that it is now, in the quiet week, that I feel the most emotionally and mentally squeezed rather than during the tumult of end of term projects.  Do I thrive under pressure? Or, do I have a hard time being alone with my thoughts?

I feel as though the emotional work that I have been doing over the past four months both with and through my academic work was what they describe in academic methodology "squishy."  The boundaries that once seemed so firm and constrictive began to give way.  My own concept of my position in life became more malleable as I began to poke at some of my core beliefs about myself.  I took it all in small doses as my life continued to run on around me, which may have been a saving grace.  Now, the race over, I am trying to determine how much squishy = messy.

I find now, with hours of open time to myself that I don't quite understand what "productive" is.  I feel merit in finally just relaxing and breathing; yet as I slow down, I start to go down.  I know depression.  I have spent plenty enough time with it as a house guest in the past that I can recognize it coming up the drive.  I liked the constant pressure of time - squeezing every bit of usefulness out of time.  I made sure to squeeze in time for myself in the midst of it all, but never felt such a victim of time now that I have too much of it.  Josh likes to use the phrase "playing the victim" which perhaps I am this week.  It is Wednesday this week and I am a victim to lost time.  Non-regimented time.  What stresses me most is not deadlines, it is dead time.

In this emotionally vunerable white space that I am experiencing I am ready to burst.  I probably shouldn't take the pimple analogy too far, you can imagine for yourself the white antibodies gathering around the foreign emotions inside of me that are pushing against the surface.  Ready.  So ready with any little bit of prodding to release the pressure.  To pop.  Be careful world, this may all just be a result of fluctuating hormones - but being a pimple is not pleasant.