Recently, I had the opportunity to look through some of my mom’s old journals. She kept record of some of the funny things and milestones in my growing up years. Apparently, some of my favorite phrases as a child were, “This is worthless,” and “That’s so depressing.” I was an optimistic little girl.

As I was perusing the journal, I discovered my mom’s perspective on the only spanking I remember getting as a child:

I had gotten a tricycle for one of my birthdays. It was beautiful. It was dark blue and had glorious flowing blue and white streamers on the handlebars.

When my parents decided I was old enough to graduate from doing circles around our back patio to riding on the actual sidewalk in front of our house, my mom created boundaries. Our house was on the corner, so she used masking tape to mark off the area from the end of our sidewalk down to the start of our neighbor’s driveway. This was practically a half-marathon to my stubby little three-year-old legs, but it was not nearly enough for me to ride freely. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair and ride the open road!

One day, my dad was out doing yard work and keeping an eye on me as I pedaled with reckless abandon from one tape mark to the other and back again. I decided it was time to stretch the boundaries. My dad hadn’t been around and I thought maybe my dad didn’t know about the tape yet. I carefully and deliberately pedaled past the masking tape border and onto my neighbor’s driveway. Freedom! I felt like a regular Amelia Earhart (or at least I would have had I known who she was).

I turned around and confidently pedaled past my dad. I figured if I pretended not to be guilty, he might not notice me. Unfortunately, my dad had eyes like a hawk and reminded me of the importance (and reality) of the boundaries.

I turned around mumbling to myself as I rode. I decided to show him that riding past the boundaries wasn’t as dangerous as he thought. I self-assuredly journeyed across the border yet again. This time, my dad had been watching. He blocked my path as I turned around. He warned me in his most stern daddy voice that if I took my tricycle past the border again that there would surely be a spanking in my future.

This was shocking. He’d never threatened this thing called “spanking” before. I decided to find out if he was bluffing. I rode to the corner, turned around and deliberately picked up momentum. I turned around to make sure he was watching and pedaled right past the border and rapidly decided I might have made the wrong decision, so I’d just ride as far as I could until he caught me. I had hardly reached the other side of the driveway before he had me in one arm, picking up my beloved blue tricycle with the other.

He said, “Ashley, what did you just do?”

I replied, “I rode my trike…past the tape.”

“Do you know what I have to do now?”

I wasn’t completely sure what “spanking” meant, but I knew it certainly couldn’t be good, so I ventured a guess, “Take me back and get another little girl.”

My dad reassured me that I was the only little girl he wanted, but let me know that I had disobeyed and that there would be consequences. More than 20 years have passed since that fateful day and my dad was on the verge of tears as he recounted this part of the story from his perspective.

I realized that the Lord’s discipline is very much the same. How often do we think to ourselves “Maybe He won’t notice,” “I’ll just show Him this isn’t as dangerous as He thinks it is,” or “The consequences can’t be that bad,” only to find ourselves moments later repenting and expecting to be immune from the consequences.

Hebrews 12:7-11 (NIV) says, “Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live! Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”