While cleaning out drawers (yes, I am still cleaning out drawers, see Things I Hoard), I found a parenting relic known as the Hayes Family Bean Jar. I hadn't seen it in years, but as I held it in my hands again, it brought a smile and a sigh of sympathy for my younger mom self.

The bean jar was just one of many ideas in a long line of attempts to improve the behaviors of boisterous boys who, at times, acted more like puppies than people.

Growing up in a family of girls, it took me a while to figure out how to parent boys (actually, all of my kids are adults now, and I am still figuring it out). My primary memory of the young male species before I had boys was of my five-year-old cousin swinging like a monkey around the post of my canopy bed. I remember being shocked by such rambunctiousness in the house. The bedpost was always loose after that.

By the time my oldest was eight, I had poison control on speed dial, was on a first-name basis with an orthopedic surgeon, and had indoor/outdoor carpets in the house. I owned stock in the Nerf company, bought gauze and band-aids in bulk, and developed reflexes that still surprise people to this day. There is a reason why boy moms, on average, have life spans that are shorter by three years than girl moms.

As a young parent, I quickly learned that boys seem to have a higher level of energy, a lower desire to please, and better tolerance for risk than I remembered my sisters and myself exhibiting. However, my boys were reasonably "well-behaved" as children go. Nonetheless, I constantly struggled to eliminate undesirable behaviors and encourage civilized ones.

Thankfully, the boys were sweet and lovable. Still, whether they were dropping toys down the steps, chasing one another down the hall (and accidentally taking a chunk out of the drywall with an elbow), or splashing water onto the bathroom floor, every season brought new opportunities to promote good behaviors creatively.

With the bean jar, the idea was that I would add beans when I caught them behaving well or following the rules. Once the container was full, I would take them to the slightly sketchy but joy-inducing mecca of entertainment known as "Putt-Putt and Fun." Yet despite the enticing prize, I estimate that the boys' interest in filling the bean jar was approximately ZERO. Maybe the reward just seemed too far away and nebulous. Filling that little glass orb took such a long time. Or maybe living slightly outside of polite society was more fun than following all the rules.

On a recent podcast, I listened empathetically as a young mom shared her frustration about managing her toddlers. She had "tried everything" to get them to listen and obey. My heart went out to her. There is no easy way around maturity – time is a critical ingredient, but so is the human will. One has to choose to do the right thing, obey the rules, and move from baby bottles to real food. You can lead those wild horses to water but can't make them drink. The will of a human child is strong.

Parenting can feel like being stuck in a swamp with no way out but to keep slogging. And no wonder it's tough to raise tiny humans – while attempting to turn out good citizens, we still struggle to be mature and do the right things ourselves. Growing up, emotionally and spiritually, doesn't end after childhood.

At any age, doing "good" – being kind, selfless, patient, loving, and helpful – sounds easy in theory but can be tougher to practice. Steps forward, emotionally or spiritually, are mixed with plateaus or even times of going backward.

If only developing spiritual maturity, including obedience, was as simple as filling jars with beans. If only we could be our best selves, readily following God's directions, not constantly desiring to go our own way by simply dangling a reward in front of ourselves. If it were easy, we wouldn't need jails, apologies, time-outs, or bean jars.

It's hard to effectively guide children when we, too, have hearts that constantly wander.

The task would be impossible if Jesus had not come to be goodness for us – to redeem our destructive behaviors and fill the bean jar once and for all. No amount of good actions by parents or kids will earn the reward Christ freely offers to all who believe. And the prize is secure the moment His gift is accepted. What a relief.

It took years for me to realize that God's goal isn't to get us to "be good" or to manipulate our children into being good – the goal is to learn that He is good and to let Him shape us into the best, most Christ-like version of ourselves. This shaping is a life-long process.

After many failed attempts to parent, I'm convinced that behavior modification techniques – though helpful to civilize children – aren't the key to parenting or life. We aren't capable of always living "right" – we are too saturated in our human, carnal nature. People struggle to follow God’s ways just as kids don't resist following their parents’ rules.

But practically, we have to teach little humans to behave. And it takes time for them to grow enough physically and emotionally to understand the spiritual underpinnings of their actions. I don't fully understand the dance between God's work in us and our own free will and choices. I only know that making every attempt to obey and do what He says matters, even if it's only truly possible through the power of the Holy Spirit. Doing what God says is good is having a heart that moves toward Him and shares His love with others. Any attempt as Christians “fill the jar" or obey God is ultimately about demonstrating love to Him.

Looking back, I see the futility of the bean jar as a heart-training tool, but there was one key to helping the kids listen and obey from the heart. Ultimately, it wasn't the beans, star charts, or lectures. Although such techniques made eating in a restaurant easier with my little ones, they only improved outward behaviors. Any deeper change I saw in their choice to listen and follow came through the relationship we formed. As my husband and I loved the kids, trust grew. The more they knew us and felt our love, care, and provision, the more they listened and obeyed – even when they didn't feel like it or fully understand. And maybe that parental love, no matter how imperfect, laid the groundwork for them to feel the love of God.

Spending time with them, showing interest in their passions, praying for them daily, pointing them to the better parent (God), and never giving up on them was critical to closeness. Sometimes building our relationship meant listening late at night when exhausted, dropping everything to have fun with them, or being their biggest cheerleader.

A loving relationship also meant caring enough to hold their feet to the fire, enforce boundaries, say no to things, and be the "bad cop" when I wanted to be the "fun mom." It involved teaching them the difference between the behaviors the world said were good and those God says are correct, especially by trying to live them myself (the most challenging part). The desired outcome wasn't to raise children who are acceptable to society but ones who accepted God. I have had to trust God daily to fill the many gaps where I failed to administer this role well.

The fact that close, healthy relationships are a breeding ground for trust and obedience makes sense because it’s precisely how God nurtures us - through our relationship with Him. Growing to know and love Him makes us trust Him and want to follow His ways.

My kids are grown, and I no longer need the bean jar, but I might hold onto it. It reminds me of my feeble human attempts to be a godly mom. Mostly, the little glass orb reminds me of how amazing it is that, although I had (and still have) no idea what I was doing much of the time, I am deeply grateful that God gave me a chance to try. And because He is good, He offers a reward that is SO much better than Putt-Putt and Fun.