By Larry Christenson:
David Wilkerson, of Cross arid Switchblade fame, speaks approvingly of the firm discipline he received from his father. "Spanking is out of style today," he says. "It is considered harmful to the child's develop*ment patterns. Spanking is called 'child beating'; scold*ing is 'brow beating'; old-fashioned discipline is called 'parental temper tantrums.' My parents had a different name for it-they called it woodshed therapy. Parents used to believe that the best way to keep children from becoming delinquents was to spank the devil out of their nature.
"There were five children in our family and each of us had a holy respect for Dad's razor strap that hung on a big nail on the way downstairs to the coal bin. Dad conducted all his 'counseling sessions' in that coal bin. He would never spank me when he was angry, but he waited until I thought he had forgotten all about my disobedience. Then, with a soft voice, 'All right, David, let's go downstairs and learn another lesson on obedience.' He would turn me over his knee and before he laid a single stripe on me, I'd wiggle like a snake, scream like I was being murdered, and cry like I was about to die. My crying never seemed to frighten or impress him. I got it-hard! Then I had to kneel and ask God to forgive my stubbornness, and after making it right with heaven, I had to put my arms around him and tell him how much I loved him. That is why that stubborn, foolish, disobedient
David Wilkerson, of Cross arid Switchblade fame, speaks approvingly of the firm discipline he received from his father. "Spanking is out of style today," he says. "It is considered harmful to the child's develop*ment patterns. Spanking is called 'child beating'; scold*ing is 'brow beating'; old-fashioned discipline is called 'parental temper tantrums.' My parents had a different name for it-they called it woodshed therapy. Parents used to believe that the best way to keep children from becoming delinquents was to spank the devil out of their nature.
"There were five children in our family and each of us had a holy respect for Dad's razor strap that hung on a big nail on the way downstairs to the coal bin. Dad conducted all his 'counseling sessions' in that coal bin. He would never spank me when he was angry, but he waited until I thought he had forgotten all about my disobedience. Then, with a soft voice, 'All right, David, let's go downstairs and learn another lesson on obedience.' He would turn me over his knee and before he laid a single stripe on me, I'd wiggle like a snake, scream like I was being murdered, and cry like I was about to die. My crying never seemed to frighten or impress him. I got it-hard! Then I had to kneel and ask God to forgive my stubbornness, and after making it right with heaven, I had to put my arms around him and tell him how much I loved him. That is why that stubborn, foolish, disobedient