The car would pull into grandma’s driveway. Dad always parked the car on the right hand side next to the garage. The car would stop and dad would shift it into park. He would then always, without fail, turn to the back seat before he would turn the engine off and would say, “now when we go in that house you take your shoes off, give your grandma a hug and kiss and then you sit down on the couch until I say you can get up and play…and once you are allowed to get up and play you don’t ruff house in grandma’s house or touch anything…you will play quietly…do you understand?” We would mumble “yes” and then he would turn the car off and we’d go in.

Now, let's just say me, my brother and sister had fussed or fought amongst ourselves on the trip to nanny’s house. Kids do that…I and my little sister would gang up on our brother Steve, which is funny because Sarah is the youngest of all three yet she would help me pick on Steve. You all know how it is. Never mind that we just got out of church and still had our church clothes on…dad knew his sheep and knew that we were already not behaving. During those times he would go through the same routine and give the same speech…except he would add one caveat… he would tack on this direct and serious warning at the end “…or else I will take you in the back and beat the living hell out of you…” then he would ask “do you understand?” Whenever dad used the words “beat”, “living hell” and “you” in one sentence we paid attention. Suddenly nobody could remember who pinched who or who ripped the GI Joes leg off… the only thing that mattered was not having living hell beat out us. So when we went to grandma’s we didn’t break things, we didn't touch her things or scream, run around, interrupt or fool with her tv. We just played quietly…if Steve and I wanted to play catch we took our mitts outside or we took the football. That always got my dad’s attention and most of the time he’d go out there and throw us “the long bomb” (we would make him “be” Bernie Kosar and me and Steve would “be” Reggie Langhorn and Webster Slaughter…we’d run the “long bomb” route and my dad would heave it…that was so cool cause none of our buddies could do that…) But we listened to my dads instructions. Rebellion was not a wise option, ever.

You see, my dad was intimidating. We didn’t obey him because we saw his point or we were concerned about his feelings…he intimidated us. We feared him. His power and authority in our lives was very much worthy of our respect. Our dad was the King of the Fox home. And buddy, if he told you that if you didn’t stop he was going to beat the living hell out of you…guess what? There was no “three count” or “I’m not going to tell you again”...if we did not stop doing whatever he said to stop doing, post haste, he would shoot up from wherever he was sitting, grab us and take us in the back…and then beat the living hell out of us. My dad was so fast that he literally did not have time to take his belt off…the time it would have taken for him to take his belt off he had already landed three sharp, stinging, painful and very memorable swats with his right hand. (he always gave us sets of three spanks, never more and never less…bang, bang, bang). There was almost no exception…it was like the law of gravity…my dad would let us get so crazy and then he’d have enough. If he said “stop it” he didn’t mean "kinda settle down for a minute"…he meant STOP IT. There was never a doubt what would happen if we didn’t stop… to keep on “doing it” was certainly a “death wish”.

So that is my story and now you can begin to understand how shocking it is for me to see kids scream “shut up” or “no”….TO THEIR DADS of all people! I have seen kids slap at their dads, hit their dads, kick their dads, stomp their feet at their dads…you name it. Totally disrespect their own fathers…to his face and in front of people...and the dads don’t hurt the kid! Words can not begin to explain the horror of the thought of attempting such a thing with my dad. The thought NEVER crossed our minds to spit or take a swing or kick at my old man…are you freakin kidding me? Are you CRAZY? It's not like we thought about it and refrain...the thought itself was anathema!

Of course these men will usually pretend to spank…but the kid doesn’t even cry! If they do cry it’s this fake cry stuff that lasts about one minute. I don’t care how tolerant of pain the kid is…I promise you…my dad would have made them cry real tears from real pain! With only three spanks mind you…all on the butt mind you. I watch in absolute stunned amazement as these men argue with their kids. Roy didn’t argue and he didn’t explain “why” more than once either. Roy sure as heck didn't tolerate for one split second OPEN and flagrant rebelion or disrespect of him or my mom. God help us if he ever heard us yell at our mom. Roy didn’t raise kids in a democratic system...we did not have a vote unless he gave us a vote…we had no rights. He was for the most part a benevolent dictator. He would ask us what flavor a cereal we wanted and he gave us the three choices…we didn’t tell him what to buy! My jaw about hits the ground as I watch these wimpy men debate with their three year old in the AISLES OF THE SUPER MARKET!!! Are you kidding me? Am I really seeing this? Is Huey really screaming at his dad like that…in the cereal aisle? Is Huey really running away from his dad? Does Huey really have no fear?

“Penelope, I don’t want you doing that…stop….Penelope…stop that now…stop that….stop…Penelope look at me…Penelope, no…no…stop that…I want you to stop that…Penelope…ONE….put that down….put that down…stop that…stop…stop…stop that…no, no, stop…stop….stop….twooo….Penelope put that down…”

It doesn’t matter if it is Penelope or Huey. I’ve seen this in Wal-Mart, Golden Coral, church, at the place I get my hair cut, the movies, the doctor’s office and at family gatherings…I see it everywhere and it totally floors me. What kind of life is that parenting setting their kids up for? There is no boss that is going to beg you to get your reports completed or try and talk you into meeting your quota on the assembly line!

Now, let me pull this all together and paint you the rest of the picture. There were very few times that “the hell” was “beat” out of me, Steve or Sarah. We didn’t get spanked very often at all. Just a handful of life changing times. There was no need for it…cause when my dad said “you had better stop it”…we did. We stopped it. And because we stopped it my dad did not have to fly out of his chair, grab us up and beat the fire out of us. That did happen, don’t get me wrong…and I’ll never forget those times…there were times when we pushed him and he proved himself faithful to his word. But it was not every day, once a week or even once a month. I’m sure we’d go months and months at a time before we’d tell our dad to “prove it”. You can ask anybody who was around us back when we were kids…we laughed and had fun…but we didn’t touch peoples stuff, we sure as heck didn’t break stuff…I can remember people remarking how well behaved we were at church and in public. That was not by accident. My mom did not “luck out”. Anybody who knows me, my brother and sister will tell you that all three of us are by nature very “strong willed” people…and we were strong willed kids. It’s in our blood. Imagine that...not one strong willed kid...but three. When it came to keeping his three strong willed kids under control my dad had three laws by which he ruled:

-he consistently spanked (my dad spanked, that was how he disciplined…there were no corners or time out chairs…he spanked)
-he was severe (he spanked sharply and painfully)
-he was fair (he gave three sharp swats at a time)

Those three things were always clear to us…we had a healthy fear of him because of these three unquestionable laws. And my dad never said he was going to "spank" us. No, no, no. He was never that gentle in his promises. No. He would vow to "beat the hell" out of us or worse. He didn't settle for "do you want spanked"...oh no...just the threat itself sounded terrible and invoked tremendous pause in our little hearts. Whatever he was going to do...it was going to be be terrible. And then if we didn't believe him or trust in his words...he proved how trust worthy and reliable he could be. So, because of that, our house had an order to it. We listened to our mom fairly well. We listened to our dad VERY well. We were happy kids. There were clear boundaries and a clear understanding of authority...nothing is more miserable for a kid than a tantrum...we didn't have those...not infront of my dad we didn't. So we were happier I think than these brats who scream and cry and flip out. We didn't argue with our parents...we had no expectations that things were about us...so we were happier kids. I wish people could grasp this. Sure, if you got strict and spanked with healthy severity on a consistent basis your house would be filled with crying for many days on end. That is your fault. BUT…slowly your kids will wizen up. Your life will be so much less stressful if you would instill some fear in your child’s heart. Healthy fear…the kind of fear that a kid needs to keep him out of jail when he is older. Kids need to know and understand that there is a greater authority than them…and that authority can and will put a stop to what they are doing… that authority will punish them. Being a wimpy parent that whines and debates with your kid is not good for your kid. It gives them the impression that life is about give and take and compromise…that is not the way life is.

Godly parents are strict parents who discipline consistently and healthy severity.

Of course, the Bible is clear on this. I believe that my dad had it about 80% right…he lacked some grace and I will try to correct that with my kids. But my dad was not totally off track. The Bible does not teach time out chairs. The Bible teaches spanking. The rod is what was used back in the days of the Bible…they would spank with a rod.

Here is what God says to do with your unruly children:

He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him. Proverbs 13:24 niv

Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline will drive it far from him. Proverbs 22:15 niv

Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish him with the rod, he will not die. Punish him with the rod and save his soul from death. Proverbs 23:13-14 niv

The rod of correction imparts wisdom, but a child left to himself disgraces his mother. Proverbs 29:15 niv

Ps

Lest any of you are tempted to say, “what does he know…he doesn’t have kids” let me remind you of this. Number one, I’m right and the Bible supports this. Number two, Naomi’s little sister and brother lived with us for a year straight and since we’ve been married, if all the time the have lived with us was added up it would equal over two years. So my experience is in dealing with kids 3-12. I’m not talking about something I have not tested personally and seen proved first hand…not by a long shot. They are not our kids, but they lived with us for long periods and stretches of time, we discipline them and they mind our rules just fine. I am not speaking from ignorance or from unproven theory.