Micah 6:8

"He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does YHVH require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."

Monday, January 9, 2012

The Debate Rages On

I love the study of people.
Psychology was one of my favourite classes in college.
I loved learning about nature  vs. nurture and  birth order.
I loved learning how these things effect children and form them into the people they will become.
How some believe your birth order describes who you are and how you will behave.
How people fight over whether something is inherited, a trait that you are born with, or if it is a learned behaviour.
These things fascinate me. And now that I have had children the fascination is only growing.
Do they do things because it was given to them in their genes. Or is it because they have learned it from living in this house and being a part of this family.
I love how very different my children are. I stand in awe of my maker every time I see their faces. Hear them laugh, watch them do something that is distinctly me. Sometimes they are so much like me and then sometimes they are so much like their dad. I am always amazed by them and how different they are from each other, from me, from their dad.
And then sometimes I see something in them. Something I have not taught them. Something that is so amazing that I grab my camera and snap a photo of it so I will never forget.

Notice the spacing of the hangers? Would you guess first born, the lovers of order, neatness, and structure? Sweaters on one side, long sleeve t-shirts on the other. This is my kind of closet. I am a first born after all.


Notice the hangers here? What a mess. Uneven spacing. Sweaters mixed in between long sleeve t-shirts. No order, no neatness, no structure. This closet cannot belong to a first born child, can it?


The first picture belongs to my baby. The youngest in the family. Sometimes he is so much like me and yet he looks just like his dad. The second picture is my oldest sons closet. I am at a loss for words. He may look like me but he is so messy and sloppy and I couldn't love him anymore then I do.

Birth order.

Nurture vs. Nature.

The debate rings on. And I happily watch from the sidelines as it unfolds in my own home.

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