A comment on my 5th-grade report card still strikes me when I think of it today: “Lea does not take correction well.” Ouch! Those comments written more than 40 years ago (“ouch” again) are still embarrassing to admit. Even typing them for you to read now makes me wince. Not taking correction well was a hallmark of my life that needed to change.
I was surprised at the time that it was my English teacher who had written the comment. It caught me off guard. I never suspected that I made her feel that way. I had thought she was kind and might have even liked me—until that report card. Everything changed when I read her comment. I knew that there would be consequences to those remarks when my parents read them. Her correction stung. I felt criticized and angry. From that day forward, I vowed to be perfect in class, to prove her wrong, and I wouldn’t forget how her words hurt me.
How I got it wrong and made it right
As time went by, my participation (as I had vowed) was perfect. I worked hard, never interrupted, and even began to draw praise from her. The following report was glowing about how I had improved. My parents’ praise lifted my spirits, and I changed from wanting to prove her wrong to wanting to please her. It’s funny how our emotions can change so quickly!
“If a good person punished me, that would be kind. If he corrected me, that would be like perfumed oil on my head. I shouldn’t refuse it…” Psalm 141:5 NCV
A few of the words in the verse are counterintuitive to the way we think. Or, at least, the way I think. Usually, when corrected or punished, we prefer to prove how right we were in the face of the accusation. Like me in 5th grade when I wanted to prove my teacher’s observations wrong. Well, my reaction to her critique by improving my behavior proved her right. I didn’t see it at the time, but her correction was a kindness. At the very least, I was motivated to avoid further negative consequences at home.
It has been said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I’ve found that unlike my 5th-grade teacher, who was just doing her job, God’s interest in us goes far beyond employment. We are His children, and as such, His correction, if we take it to heart, will change our lives for the better. There’s a great lesson to learn from Psalm 141:5. It takes courage to apply it, though.
Processing and taking correction from Psalm 145:5
- Correction. We use the word “correction” primarily when referring to children, school, and education, but rarely when referring to adults. Mentally, I suppose this is because correction is meant for the immature, not those who have grown into adulthood. For some reason, there comes a time in life when we feel we have outgrown the need for correction. We are expected to make it through life on our own with no help at all—without correction of how our sails are set if the winds are contrary.
- Kindness. “Kindness” is not a word we would think to put into the same sentence or phrase as the word “correction.” Normally, I would think kindness would be expressed in a way that makes me feel good, not in a way that challenges me to change. My feelings are supposed to be soothed and reinforced. Feelings need to be told about how wonderful I always am or how unfortunate it was for someone to be unkind to me. If words or actions aren’t brought in a way to make me feel good, they are not kind.
- Refuse. This is a word used very often when correction is involved. Children who are corrected often refuse to receive correction internally (much like my reaction in 5th grade) and only follow through with prescribed consequences because they, as children, have no choice. We’ve all heard the story of the child who is told to sit down but replies, “I may be sitting down on the outside, but I’m standing up on the inside.” When we grow into adults, the inner refusal we suppressed all those years as children is free to be released and expressed. We are capable adults after all, aren’t we? We are going to stand up for everyone to see.
Taking correction as children while we are adults
Most of us can see ourselves in the descriptions of children above, yet we fail to recognize that while we are grown adults physically, we remain children of God eternally. The physical realm easily translates for us into the only reality to embrace, as it is the most “real” reality we can feel.
During the years of war in the Central African region (early 1990s–early 2000s), we witnessed and heard of many atrocities too horrible to describe. While war, the slaughter of innocent civilians, and economic hardship all took their toll on us, I think it was the callous disregard for what was really important that would strike me the hardest. A situation comes to mind when a friend, whose Bible school compound had been looted of tens of thousands of dollars of books, furnishings, and equipment, went to visit one of her acquaintances in a nearby village. As she entered the home, she recognized some of the things in the home as items from the Bible school, and she said, “Those belong to the school.” The reply to her statement was staggering: “Sister, that is church, but this is life.”
Instead of not taking correction well, had this lady received this correction, she could have been a catalyst in the village for repentance. It is very sad to think that she placed more value on the temporary than the eternal. Life, as we experienced in the time of war, is but a breath, here one moment and gone the next. While this may seem like an extreme example, its truth is universal and timeless.
Why does it feel so wrong to be corrected?
How often have we been guilty of the same kind of thinking when it comes to correction that God brings to us through friends, family, His Word, sermons, worship, or other avenues? Is it so wrong to be wrong? Isn’t it better to be corrected? Why do we prefer the consequences of a hard heart?
Pride is a terrible and unforgiving master, and when pride rules our lives, it brings us eternal and far-reaching consequences. How long will we stand up when God has said to sit down? How long will we continue and not take correction well before we understand that correction is actually kindness and not criticism?
The difference between criticism and kindness
There is a big difference between criticism and kindness. We primarily associate criticism negatively (although it can be used in a positive sense) with disapproval by someone. They perceive something we have said/done negatively and express their disapproval. This can make us wonder: how can a correction possibly be kind? The answer is simple: a correction is not a criticism, as we understand criticism. A correction’s motive is different from that of a criticism. A criticism is meant to wound, while a correction is meant to bring positive change. If the benefit of the correction comes directly to us, then it is an act of kindness.
If pride is our master, however, we find it difficult to bend our knees, sit down (for we have been standing up this whole time), and allow the correction to change us. This is true kindness, as it changes us and enhances who we are and what we do. But pride will refuse to change because pride can’t be wrong. The goal of pride is self-preservation and self-exaltation. How has that helped us so far? Where has that gotten us, except far from where God wants to bring us?
Children need fathers to correct them
I have read many books and articles in recent years on the need for mentors, teachers, leaders, and spiritual fathers in the church today. People, on the one hand, cry out for fathers but do not allow fathers to speak into their lives. It is a conundrum of sorts. I don’t believe that there is a shortage of fathers as much as there is a shortage of children who are looking to be fathered.
It’s kindness when God corrects us and gets our sails set straight. He is the Captain and He sees the map. He knows the destination; may we allow Him to correct our sails. If we open our hearts to His kindness (His correction), He will give us those people we need in our lives to help us get to our destinations.
