The Night We Learned Our Lesson

Back when I was a child, discipline wasn’t a suggestion—it was a guarantee. If we acted up, we knew one of three things was coming: a sharp “Now you listen here,” a quick slap on the behind, or, in the worst of cases, Daddy’s belt. That belt was a legend in our house. It hung on the back of the bedroom door like a warning sign from the Lord Himself.

One particular night stands out clear as a bell. My sister and I were supposed to be winding down for bed, but instead we decided to test the laws of gravity. In our fuzzy little footie pajamas, we were jumping on the bed, laughing so hard our sides hurt. We were having ourselves a grand time—until Mama hollered from downstairs, “Y’all better quit that right now!”

Of course, we didn’t. When you’re a kid, Mama’s voice sounds more like background noise than an actual warning. I’m not sure how many times she called up, but when we heard her footsteps coming up those stairs, we knew Judgment Day had arrived.

Now, Mama was famous for her “warning swats.” She’d take Daddy’s belt, snap it once or twice in the air, and usually that was enough to send us scrambling under the covers. But not that night. No, ma’am. That night we’d pushed our luck one bounce too far. The belt didn’t just sing—it landed.

I can still feel that sting all these years later. Mercy, it burned like fire! Those little welts on the back of my legs were proof that Mama meant business. Back then I thought it was the end of the world, but looking back now, I see it was just good, old-fashioned love wrapped in leather.

You see, our parents took the Bible to heart when it said, “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him” (Proverbs 13:24, NIV). And in Hebrews 12:10, we’re reminded, “Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness.”

I can’t say I was thankful for that spanking then—but I sure am now. Those lessons built respect, obedience, and a healthy understanding that choices have consequences. Looking back, I’m convinced those “come-to-Jesus moments” with the belt probably saved me from a few bigger whippings from life later on.

A Closing Prayer

Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank You for loving me enough to correct me when I go astray. Help me to remember that discipline isn’t punishment—it’s protection. Thank You for parents who cared enough to teach me right from wrong, even when it hurt them (and me!). Give me a humble heart that’s willing to learn from Your gentle correction and to extend that same kind of love to others.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.