Give Them Room to Grow

When my children were young, Thursday evenings sometimes meant hamburgers and hot dogs cooked outside on the charcoal grill.

For many years, while serving as a full-time minister, Thursday afternoon was my only regular time off. Those evenings became a small family tradition. We didn’t have one of today’s fancy gas grills. Ours was the old-fashioned kind. It required a bag of charcoal briquets, lighter fluid, kindling, matches, and plenty of patience.

My oldest son enjoyed helping with the cooking. My second son liked helping build the fire. My daughter, still very young, would watch and do what little things she could. My wife would occasionally peek through the window, happy to have an evening off from preparing dinner.

She especially liked that whenever I cooked, I also cleaned up afterward. I washed the dishes, pots, pans, utensils, everything, and then put them in the cabinets.

One Thursday, my youngest son asked if he could prepare the charcoal and light the fire himself.

My first instinct was to say no.

I could already imagine the mess. It would certainly take longer. The bag of charcoal was almost as tall as he was. And somewhere in the back of my mind was the prayer every parent understands:

Lord, please don’t let him set himself on fire.

My wife gave me one of those knowing looks and nodded.

So, reluctantly, I said yes.

First, I sent him to the garage to retrieve the large bag of charcoal. Somehow, he managed to drag it all the way to the grill. Then he went back for the lighter fluid. I showed him how to gather small twigs and dry leaves for kindling.

Because he was too short to comfortably reach the grill, he went inside and brought out a step stool.

He carefully—though not very neatly—poured the charcoal into the grill. His pile was crooked and uneven, with twigs and leaves sticking out around the edges.

Then I told him to take the big bag of charcoal back to the garage.

That part had apparently not been included in his plans.

He wasn’t happy about it, but he did it.

When he returned, he was ready for the lighter fluid. With all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old, he nearly drowned the charcoal in it. Unfortunately, a good portion also ended up on his hands, arms, and clothes.

Everything stopped.

He was even less pleased when I sent him inside to change clothes and wash the lighter fluid off himself. About ten minutes later, he returned—clean, dry, and no longer smelling like a small petroleum refinery.

Then came the moment he had been waiting for.

He tried to strike a match, but his little fingers did not yet have the coordination needed to do it safely. So I found a small branch about a foot long and lit one end.

Together we watched the tiny flame.

Then he carefully placed the burning branch beneath the kindling.

There was a small pop as the fire caught.

He jumped up and down with excitement.

He had done it.

Patience Often Looks Like Taking Longer

His brother soon took his turn. He helped prepare aluminum foil packets with corn on the cob and potatoes. When the coals were ready, he carefully placed the hamburgers, hot dogs, and vegetables on the grill.

He loved turning the foil packets and flipping the burgers. And like many boys, he especially enjoyed the little bursts of flame when hamburger grease dripped onto the hot coals.

Meanwhile, my daughter helped set the table as well as a two-year-old possibly could.

Could I have done everything faster by myself?

Absolutely.

Could I have done it with less mess?

Without question.

But that would have missed the point.

Their beaming faces and growing confidence were worth far more than the extra time.

They were learning that preparing a meal meant more than simply eating it. There was preparation. There was work. There was responsibility. And when the meal was over, there was cleanup and putting everything back where it belonged.

They were learning because someone was willing to let them try.

Someone Needs a Barnabas

The New Testament gives us another picture of patience with someone who was still growing.

In the book of Acts, Paul and Barnabas had a sharp disagreement over a young man named John Mark. Mark had previously left them during their missionary work, and Paul did not want to take him along again.

Barnabas saw things differently.

Barnabas was willing to give the young man another opportunity.

He did not give up on him.

Years later, Paul’s opinion of Mark had clearly changed. Near the end of his life, Paul told Timothy that Mark was useful to him in ministry.

Something had happened along the way.

John Mark had grown.

Someone had been patient with him.

Someone had encouraged him.

Someone had given him another chance.

Barnabas had been willing to invest in a person who was not yet everything he could become.

Remember That People Are Still Growing

Ephesians 4:2 reminds us to walk with humility, gentleness, patience, and love.

“With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering,
forbearing one another in love;

Ephesians 4:2 KJV

That sounds beautiful when we read it.

Living it can be much harder.

Patience means allowing someone to learn when it would be easier to do the job ourselves.

Gentleness means correcting without crushing.

Humility means remembering that we are still learning too.

Love means refusing to judge a person’s future by one mistake, one failure, one bad decision, or one season of immaturity.

Today, those Thursday evening cookouts exist mostly in my memories. My children grew up long ago. My oldest son will soon celebrate his fiftieth birthday. My wife has now been in heaven for eight years.

We don’t gather around that old charcoal grill anymore.

But I can still see those little hands carrying charcoal, arranging kindling, flipping hamburgers, setting the table, and helping wash dishes.

And I am grateful I didn’t always say, “I’ll do it myself.”

Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another person is the opportunity to try.

Someone around you may need that gift today.

A child.

A grandchild.

A young coworker.

A new Christian.

A friend recovering from a failure.

Someone who is trying, learning, stumbling, and growing.

God may have placed you in that person’s life not merely to correct them, but to encourage them.

Not merely to point out what they did wrong, but to patiently show them how to do it better.

Not merely to see who they are today, but to recognize who, by God’s grace, they may someday become.

After all, isn’t that what God continually does for us?

He patiently teaches us.

He gently corrects us.

He forgives us.

He gives us opportunities to grow.

And He never stops working on us.

A Thought for Today

Be patient with people who are still learning. God may be using your encouragement to help shape the person they are becoming.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the patience, gentleness, and mercy You continually show me. Forgive me for the times I become impatient with people who are still learning, growing, or trying to find their way.

Give me the humility to remember that I still have much to learn myself. Give me the gentleness to correct without discouraging, the patience to teach when it would be easier to do something myself, and the love to give others another opportunity when they stumble.

Open my eyes to the people You place in my path. Help me recognize the child, friend, coworker, family member, or fellow believer who simply needs someone to believe in them.

Make me willing to be a Barnabas. Help me to encourage, guide, forgive, and patiently help others become the people You created them to be.

And when I become discouraged with my own shortcomings, remind me that You are still patiently working in me as well.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.