Category: Parenting

Surviving Summer!

Published on by Robynn BlissLeave a comment


In this two part series Robynn suggests ways to successfully survive summer! 

School is about to get out here in Kansas. For many moms that’s a sweet joy. They anticipate leisurely time with their children, afternoons at the pool, evenings in the park. For the rest of us summer is a stir-fry of a wide range of emotions. We feel joy, panic, loss of routine, guilt, anticipation, dread. These are the moms I have in mind as I write this. I am that mom.

  • Gauge your expectations

I think it’s really important to think through your expectations for the summer. Are you expecting some lazy days? Are you hoping to get a lot of home projects done? Is this the time you’ve set aside to teach your kids to cook? What’s your energy level like? Do you need to plan in extended quiet times? Is your family planning on traveling this summer? Think it through. Be honest with yourself. Schedule a family meeting. Communicate with one another what you’re hoping for from this summer. Monitoring expectations in your own heart, but also in the hearts of your family members is key to summer success. Expectations can dash and disappoint or they can serve to create anticipation and joy.

  • Grace, Grace, Grace!

This is your summer. This is the summer you’ve been given. It doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It can be as unique and interesting as you and your family. You can nap, or run, or hide in your bedroom for a few yours every other day. You can cry when your kids cry, scream when they scream, giggle when they giggle. This summer belongs to you. If a day goes awry —that’s ok. There’s grace wide enough for that. If you have a moment with your teenager that you regret–apologize, receive forgiveness. If you forget that you’re the adult for a spell–shake it off, choose to switch gears. There’s grace deep enough for that too. If nothing get’s done on your summer project list, don’t sweat it! There’s mercy that lingers for today and is new for tomorrow. You have what it takes to do this parenting thing with courage. Just show up. Pull your chair up to the table. Live in the grace that is present in each moment.

  • Resist Pinterest; Stay away from Facebook

I recommend severely limiting any type of social media that fosters comparison and secret maternal competitions. Seeing that your friend took her kids to an art class and the masterpieces they each produced makes your attempts to hand paper and paints and brushes to your kid with instructions to go outside seem minor and ineffectual. Watching your cousin’s vacation videos only serves to stir up envy and shame that you’ll never be able to afford to take your family to the same places. Even pictures of other families playing board games show the laughter and the joy, they don’t reveal the kid that storms off in anger, the older sibling taunting the younger for losing. Ugly moments don’t tend to get Instagrammed!

  • Screens aren’t as evil as they say—everything in moderation

Nothing brings on shame in parents quicker than admitting that their kid spent 5-7 hours watching TV or Netflix that day! I know because I’ve had that day. There’s nothing wrong with a little screen time. With Netflix and cable TV and a library full of movies we have endless options of good programming. Setting limits is probably a good idea but do so with grace and flexibility. Each day has enough worries of it’s own.

  • Books are better than screens

There really is nothing better than a good book. I love having my nose in a good book. I love it when my kids are all reading good books. Most local libraries have summer reading programs but if you don’t have access to a library or if your library doesn’t promote a summer reading program create your own! Set prizes and rewards for reading books. I know, theoretically the book itself is reward enough…but I’m not beyond bribery to help a kid live into that fact. We’ve even paid our older teens to read specific books on managing finances and creating budgets! If you’re stumped to know how to help your child find a good book there are countless lists available on line.

  • Summer Bridge

Early on when we first returned to North America I discovered Summer Bridge workbooks. These workbooks help a child stay tuned into math and reading. They prevent brain paralysis over the summer. Knowing my kids were spending fifteen minutes a day thinking made me feel better as a mom—and really, who are we kidding, that’s what matters!

  • Slow yourself down

This brings us full circle back to attending to our expectations. I think it helps to deliberately slow yourself down. It’s hard to herd cats. It’s hard to rush kids—of any age! Breathing slower. Relaxing your own pace helps significantly.

  • Boredom Busted!

Don’t fall for the Boredom blues! Boredom might likely be an indicator of a lazy brain or a restless spirit. One of my (many!) pet peeves is the line, “I’m bored!” Several summers ago I implemented the Boredom Buster jar. Every time a child of mine lamented, “I’m bored!” I pulled out the jar. In the jar I had written every conceivable chore I could think of –most were jobs I’d been putting off for ages, things I really didn’t want to do myself! Clean the ceiling fans, sweep the front porch, pull dandelions, empty the fridge and wipe it down, wash the stairs. For the first two weeks of that summer I got so much work done! After that the kids paused before singing the old “I’m bored” chorus, they found things to do on their own. My Boredom Buster jar encouraged creativity!

  • Plan in adult conversation

This is key! No matter the ages of your children, it’s vital to your sanity to ensure you’ve planned stimulating adult conversation into your week. Meet another parent and their tribe at the park. If you have older kids is there a mom out there with younger kids that you could connect with? Have your kids babysit her kids while the two of you connect over ice tea or frozen lattes. Plan it out. Knowing this is on the calendar will give you hope in the middle of another conversation about Sponge Bob Square pants or Dora the Explorer.

 

A Note to Moms who Work Outside the Home:

You women are amazing! Here are a couple of things I want to say to you in particular:

  1. Learn to marinate your soul in a daily GRACE wash. You are a good mother. Your mothering is broader than this summer.
  2. Arrange good childcare for your kids. Do what needs to be done to provide safe and healthy care for each of your children. It might look different for each kid each summer.
  3. Communicate that plan to your kids without apology.
  4. Don’t skimp on self-care and rest and adult conversation. This is vital to you continuing on in your mothering role with any amount of joy!

 

Brene Brown Would Have Been Proud

Published on by Robynn Bliss6 Comments


Chloe stood straight and as tall as her 4 foot 11 inch frame would allow for in her black floor length dress. Her ginger colored hair was pulled back into two tight buns on either side of her head. She had deliberate bangs that framed her face. Red circle rimmed glasses balanced on her nose. She looked up at the ceiling and took a breath. I smiled at her, she smiled back—tightly. Clearly she was nervous. The accompanist sat poised on the piano bench. Several of Chloe’s peers sat on the edge of the room. They had already performed in small groups or their vocal solo numbers. One girl balanced a saxophone on her lap. I was the only mother in the room, as far as I could tell. Another adult served as a room monitor of sorts. The room waited.

In the back of the room sat the judge. Papers and music books were piled up around her. She scribbled in pencil on a previous contestant’s paper. The room held its breath and listened as the judge erased something and then brushed the pencil crumbs to the side. She wrote again with brief strokes, circling numbers, making short comments. She was serious and deliberate.

Eventually she looked up at Chloe. Chloe took a deeper breath and introduced her self and the two pieces she would be singing. The pianist played the introduction and Chloe started.

Suddenly, without meaning to, I found my eyes filling with tears.

This situation would have made sociologist, Brene Brown, so proud. I’ve been reading her book, Daring Greatly. Brown talks extensively about shame and ways to develop shame resilience. In Daring Greatly she broadens the conversation on shame to the wider topic of scarcity. “Scarcity is the “never enough” problem.” (p 28) Shame, comparison and disengagement all contribute to the insidious nature of scarcity. Shame is that horrible knowing that something is wrong with me. I’m never enough. I’m flawed. Comparison also breeds shame and contributes to the “never enough” problem. I compare myself to those around me, those on social media, those on TV and I always come up short. I’m certainly not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, skinny enough. Disengagement is the natural consequence of shame and comparison. I pull back. I choose to not show up. It’s too risky. And I’m not enough.

According to Brown the antidote to scarcity is not abundance. She doesn’t think the opposite of ‘never enough’ is ‘more than you can imagine.’ Instead she believes that the antonym of scarcity is quite simply ‘enough’. She calls that “Wholeheartedness”.

Wholeheartedness…at its very core is vulnerability and worthiness: facing uncertainty, exposure and emotional risks and knowing that I am enough (Daring Greatly, Brene Brown, p29).

Believing that I’m enough silences the shame, even if only for a few moments. The comparison track is paused and I’m given the space and the courage to engage. It requires risk and true bravery. It means being vulnerable. Showing up. Allowing myself to be seen.

Chloe finished her two solo pieces and she left the room. Our daughter, Adelaide, came in next. She stood in the very place Chloe had stood. Adelaide’s piano accompanist arranged herself at the piano. Adelaide smiled at her friends and at me. She wiggled a few fingers. She looked up at the ceiling and down at the floor. And then she took a deep cleansing breath and she locked her gaze on the judge. The judge was finishing up Chloe’s paperwork. Suddenly Adelaide smiled. The judge had looked up in anticipation and

Adelaide met her gaze. Adelaide introduced herself and the two pieces she’d be singing. The piano started up and Adelaide joined in, her voice clear and strong.

It took tremendous courage for Chloe and Adelaide to compete as solo vocalists at the state competition. They had the courage to stand up in front of others, to bring their strengths, to allow themselves to be seen. I’m sure they felt vulnerable and laid bare before their peers but they did it. They dared to show up, to remain engaged.

The willingness to show up changes us. It makes us a little braver each time…. vulnerability is life’s great dare. It’s life asking, “Are you all in? Can you value your own vulnerability as much as you value it in others?” Answering yes to these questions is not weakness: It’s courage beyond measure. It’s daring greatly” (Daring Greatly, Brene Brown, page 43).

I’m not performing in any competition. My day-to-day life doesn’t involve long black dresses and Italian operettas, vocal warm ups or practice sessions. Yet many a day comes where I feel afraid to face the next thing. My courage wanes. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I flounder. Emotions rise like the moon on a dark night and cast shadows. Watching Adelaide last Saturday was inspiring. Her courage was transparent. She dared to be there. She dared to do her best. She invited others to see her. As much as she might have wanted to, she chose not to recoil. She chose to show up.

As odd as this may sound, I want to be like my daughter when I grow up!

 

With Hearts Outside our Bodies

Published on by Marilyn5 Comments

heart outside your body

A few years ago, a good friend and I were talking about our children. How we loved them, how we were exasperated by them, how we struggled to parent well, mostly how we hurt when they hurt. She talked about a quote she had read somewhere, that when we have children we wear our hearts outside our bodies.

We walk with our hearts outside our bodies.

I later found the full quote: “Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”*

Think of the heart, the most important organ in our bodies. Our hearts make sure the rest of our cells and other vital organs get oxygen in order to function effectively. They are well protected behind skin, muscle, and the strong bone barrier of our rib cage — it takes a bullet to get to our heart.

That’s the physical heart. That other heart, the heart that holds our love and emotion is not so well shielded. And with the coming of children, any skin, muscle, or ribs that we had lose all their efficacy. We lose any semblance of protective covering; suddenly our hearts are on the outside of our bodies, vulnerable and exposed for all the world to see and hurt, taunt and discard.

With five children, my heart has been outside my body and exposed for a long time.  Each child has their own place, their own shape, in my heart. With adult children, I can only witness what they allow me to witness, can only be a part of what they let me see. The range of emotions that I experience are extreme. There are times when the temptation to burst into tears is ever with me; those watery, salty drops at the ready. Other times my joy is palpable. Still other times, I feel angry and rage at these wretched people that I gave birth to. My heart is outside my body.

And I think that’s what happened with God when he decided that we, above all other animals, would be in relationship with him. He put his heart outside his body. He walked with his heart outside his body. He would hurt for us. He would rage at us. He would have compassion on us. And if that was not enough, when he decided to reveal himself through Jesus, his heart was further outside his body.

The heart of God was outside his body. And we broke it.

Gone was any rib cage of protection. Gone was the skin and muscle that could guard. “My God, My God Why Have you forsaken me” echoed to the Heavens. The God of the universe had put his heart outside his body in the form of his beloved Son.

In the most extreme act of love that the world would ever witness, God wore his heart outside his body and all of life changed.  It’s an amazing mystery. 

In my faith tradition, this week is Holy Week. All week we will remember in a special way this life-giving sacrifice. We will remember that God put his heart outside his body and all of life changed. 

*Elizabeth Stone

Note: This post is a reworking of an old post.

A Primer in Parenting–Part 3

Published on by Robynn Bliss1 Comment

Part three: Don’t burn your Bridges – A Home to Come Back To
This is the final segment in a three part series Robynn has called, The Spelling Bee. “Lowell and I squeezed hands. Connor seemed to hesitate. There was a long pause. The audience had time to spell out the word in their heads several times over. Still Connor seemed to struggle silently…He was grasping for the spelling of his word. Until hesitatingly, falteringly, he began, Gospel. G…..O…..S……P……E…..L? Gospel. Altogether, parents, teachers, students exhaled. He had spelled it correctly. The Principal of the school, sitting just in front of us, turned and said with a smile, “Wouldn’t that have been awkward to have the missionary’s kid go out on ‘gospel’?!” It’s an amusing little story but the truth is I really don’t want my kids to go out on the gospel.” Join Robynn has she shares more from the unwritten list she and Lowell try to employ as they parent their children toward a vibrant faith.

  1. Live separately.

A couple of years ago I was talking to another mother of teenage boys. She was frustrated that her son had decided to not do well in school. She and her husband couldn’t seem to find a way to motivate him. Her emotional response to her son’s academic apathy was discernible. As a Spiritual Director I wanted to help her push into her own anxieties. “Sherry, this is not your D,” I told her. “You made different choices and you didn’t get a D in math.” It’s important to live separately from our children. My children are not extensions of me. We must resist the urge to parent based on popular opinion or the opinion of others. I can’t take their rages against me personally. I love them too much to argue. As their mother, I have to separate myself emotionally and yet not be emotionally distant.

  1. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

If I really believe, and I do, that Jesus is the only thing that matters…then I want my kids to pursue Jesus. I imagine because of the personalities of our children and because of the counter-cultural ways we’ve taught them to think that one or more of them will follow a different “straight and narrow” path to Jesus the Good Shepherd than through the protestant evangelical path we’ve stayed on. I’d rather they find Jesus cloaked in Orthodox clothes, or Mennonite simplicity or Charismatic Catholic garments than not find him at all.

  1. Pray like crazy!

At the end of the day, I hate to tell you but, we are completely out of control when it comes to parenting! I had to smile when another friend, a mother of two, was telling me that she had quit her ministry so her kids don’t hate God or the church. I wasn’t sure if I should break it to her or not…but there are no guarantees. We cannot control the outcomes. The sooner we admit that to ourselves the better. The sooner we acknowledge that God alone has access to the insides of our children, he has admittance to their souls, the sooner our parenting will be another admission on our part that we are not in charge. We are not in control.

Our own faith has great opportunity to grow through parenting. We recognize, quickly, our humanity, our selfishness, our desperate need for the help of Another. And we turn to our own Father, who generously gives wisdom to all who ask. He doles out parenting advice. He reassures our own fears. Simultaneously he handles our own hearts full of anxieties and insecurities and the hearts of our children full of insecurities and anxieties.

We pray often: little thank yous, little cries for help, little petitions for their souls, little celebratory yays when they’ve made a good choice. We pray through our own emotional responses that overwhelm us, our memories, our own horrors that surface as we watch our children grow through the retroactive lenses of our own upbringings. Quickly we learn to pray without stopping as parenting drives us to the very edges of who we are.

  1. Don’t shy away from suffering.

I have often prayed that God would do whatever it takes so that my children know Him, so that their faith is their own, so they know that Jesus is relevant for here and now. Surely that will involve suffering. Suffering is a theme in scripture that we cannot ignore. Suffering purifies, transforms, deepens our faith. Suffering is a privilege. As horrendously hard as it is, I have to resist the urge to protect my children from all of their sufferings. I’m not suggesting that I stand by and do nothing if I discover my children are victims of evil. But I am saying that it is tempting as parents to want to rush in and fix the disappointments and pain our children face. We want to make it better. We want them to be ok. We need to be careful here. Suffering can be the tool that God uses to make His presence known to our kids. His comfort goes deeper than ours ever can. He understands the complexities of their grief and their sorrows. He walks with them through it. We can trust him to shepherd their souls in the midst of the sadness and suffering they experience.

I don’t want to mess that up.

  1. Be the Father for them…a place to come back to.

Several months ago I was having lunch with a couple of friends. One friend’s older children are making poor decisions. My friend, in processing that, said something really profound, “At this point in my relationship with them I don’t want to burn any bridges. I want them to have someone to come back to. When they’re done being stupid, I want them to know they can come home to me.”

The story of the Prodigal son is one of my favourites for so many reasons. I love that story. The prodigal makes a really offensive request. No one is surprised by the question (–the youngest are always coming up with ridiculous ideas!) but everyone is surprised by the Father’s response. He lets him make, what to the rest of us who are sane seems like, the stupidest decision of his life. The youngest walks intentionally, deliberately further and further into his folly. He packs and moves away and wherever he goes he wastes his money in a series of bad decisions.

When the younger son is hungry and comes to his senses, he knows where he can go for food and forgiveness…but mostly for food! He goes home. He returns to his dad. And the dad is there waiting and eager to have him. The welcome is wondrous! The father doesn’t hold back. He embraces the son, decks him out in the most extravagant clothes and jewelry, orders in the richest cuisine and throws a party.

The father was there, the person the son could come home to. I want to be that parent. There was no shame or guilt heaped on the son, no pleading and nagging for details, no tears, no manipulation. There was welcome and grace and love.

I want Lowell and I to be there for my kids to come back to. I want to celebrate every return, every pivot point, every desire to come back. I want them to know they are always welcome here at home.

 

And that’s our list. That’s how Lowell and I have decided to guide our three precious kids to Jesus. We have no idea if what we’re doing will work! Every day feels a little risky. Every parenting decision feels somewhat precarious. And yet we step out in faith, believing in the Good Parent who loves us, his children, deeply and who is more committed to our children (who are also his children) than we could ever be.

 

A Primer in Parenting–Part 2

Published on by Robynn Bliss6 Comments

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Part two: Bible Trivia. Shmible Shnivia.

Robynn continues unpacking the list she and Lowell have followed as they’ve attempted to raise their children in the Faith. “I don’t want them to lose faith or to abandon God. We’ve made ourselves a sort of silent checklist…an unspoken, yet agreed upon “How To” guide…to help us parent our three. I have no idea if this stuff works—we’re still very much in process…but here’s the frame work Lowell and I are using, in hopes that, by God’s grace, our kids will not go out on the gospel.”

  1. Bible Trivia. Shmible Shnivia.

If you put your kids up against my kids in a Bible trivia game my kids will lose. They don’t know the Books of the Bible song. I don’t think they’ve ever played Bible Sword Drill in their lives. Some of the things they spout from scripture are horrifying, mixed up names, confused stories. However if you think about it that’s really not what we’re trying to do as parents, is it? We’re not wanting to raise Trivia Pursuits champions; we’re wanting to raise children who understand the overall story of the Bible, the story of redemption, the story of a God who seeks after them and their neighbours and the world with relentless love and compassion. Bible knowledge is certainly important. But knowing God and being known by God are infinitely more important.

  1. Try not to freak out at their doubt and their questions.

We’ve raised our children to be thinkers. We want them to ask questions, to explore, to wonder. We don’t want them to accept things at face value. It’s true with the media. (I want them to question the messages their served up).

But it’s also true with the church. Here too, I want them to cogitate, contemplate and consider. I want them to dig deeper. I long for them to see past the cultural costumes we’ve clothed our faith in. I want them to own their faith…and in order for that to happen they have to take it deep inside their souls and shake it out, and try it on for size. As difficult and time-consuming as it is, I need to resist the temptation to treat their questions as moles that pop up in that arcade game popular at state fairs. Sometimes I want to whack those moles back into place. It’s more convenient. But I think the healthier option is to engage the mole, calmly let it look around, and ultimately let the mole give voice to his curiosities.

  1. Talk about our values.

Our kids hear us talk all the time. They hear us talk about the books we read. We’ve debated policy issues and dissected political issues. They hear us rant about issues of justice. They’ve seen me cry for the pain of the suffering or the plight of the poor. We’ve talked at length about money and faith and climate change; about war and education and equality and a fuller definition of redemption. We talk a lot at this house… and most all of it reflects our values. The other day our 16 year old was wanting (again) to play a video game that is known for its violence. In exasperation he retorted that when he’s on his own he’ll play whatever game he wants to. I replied (almost) calmly that it was our job as parents to pass on our values to him but he could ultimately choose which ones he keeps and which ones he sets aside. Certainly they’ve heard our hearts and the things that are important to us. Maybe (hopefully) some of it has stuck.

  1. Modeling…lots of modeling.

Our kids have seen us seek out Jesus. Each morning when they rise they see us sitting in our chairs with our coffee and contemplations in full swing. They’ve watched us volunteer at the church and in the community. We are gentle activists and they’ve had a front row seat to our activity and our protests and our push for justice. I can only hope that some of it has changed them. I pray that they see us and they’re taking some of us inside of who they will be.

  1. Expose them to great people.

We go to a great church. We rub shoulders with interesting people who do interesting things. We want our kids to know these people; to experience their passions and personalities up close. These great people have so much they could teach our kids. I want my kids to have that opportunity. I also want them to be surrounded by a community of caring adults in case they ever need someone. If our relationships ever sour I want them to know the safety of a larger circle of people that have lovingly encircled them since they were very young.

For Part 1 of the series go here.

Stay tuned for Part 3 on Friday.

The Spelling Bee–A Primer in Parenting

Published on by Robynn Bliss2 Comments

Over the past several weeks I’ve met several moms that are, by their own admission, floundering. They love their children but they experience moments of great rage. They love their children but they long for quiet times without them. They love their children but guilt falls thick when they experience other longings.

I want to write more for these moms. I am one of them. I understand those wide ranges of emotions connected to maternity. In thinking about pieces I’d like to write–on grace, on truth, on self-care, on pursuing other dreams simultaneously—it struck me that it might be beneficial to start again at the beginning. This mini-series on parenting really addresses just the basics. I’ve posted these before but it’s some of the best that I have to offer these moms.

Part one: The Spelling Bee: G.O.S.P.E.L!

When Connor was in 6th grade he was in the school spelling bee. He had won the class bee. He had won the bee for all of 6th grade. And now he was in the all school spelling bee.

I quickly decided that as a mom, attending spelling bees is one of the most stressful things I’ve ever done. You sit there quietly in the audience and wait for the word to be announced. Once you hear the word, you spell it out in your mind, quietly, slowly and then, still in your mind, loudly, insistently. All of your brain tries to will the spelling of the word to the mind of the young speller. It’s agonizing. When it’s your child standing, waiting for the word to materialize in their heads, it almost hurts you as a parent spectator to watch. It’s excruciating.

E.X.C.R.U.C.I.A.T.I.N.G.

Younger spellers were quickly eliminated. Soon there were only 6 spellers left. Now 4. It was Connor’s turn to spell. The word he was given was ‘gospel’.

Lowell and I squeezed hands. Connor seemed to hesitate. There was a long pause. The audience had time to spell out the word in their heads several times over. Still Connor seemed to struggle silently.

Gospel. Can I have it in a sentence please? Can I have the definition?

He was using all of the familiar spelling bee participant’s stall tactics. He was grasping for the spelling of his word. Until hesitatingly, falteringly, he began,

Gospel. G…..O…..S……P……E…..L? Gospel?

Altogether, parents, teachers, students exhaled. He had spelled it correctly. The Principal of the school, sitting just in front of us, turned and said with a smile, “Wouldn’t that have been awkward to have the missionary’s kid go out on ‘gospel’?!” We all chuckled with relief!

It’s an amusing little story but the truth is I really don’t want my kids to go out on the gospel. I don’t want them to lose faith or to abandon God. We’ve made ourselves a sort of silent checklist…an unspoken, yet agreed upon “How To” guide…to help us parent our three. I have no idea if this stuff works—we’re still very much in process…but here’s the frame work Lowell and I are using, in hopes that, by God’s grace, our kids will not go out on the gospel:

  1. It’s time to simplify!

It really is time to strip down our Christianity back to the simple Jesus underneath. Really the only thing that matters is Christ. It doesn’t matter what my kids wear to church, or how they do their hair. Their choice of music might be obnoxious; the volume might be too loud. But at the end of the day Jesus is the only thing that matters.

Connor came out of youth group several months ago fuming mad! Someone had said something that infuriated him. As he climbed into the car he spouted, “I hate Christians, I hate the church, I hate all of Christianity.” Admittedly I was a little alarmed. What had happened to provoke this type of visceral response? We talked it through on the way home. As soon as we walked into the house, Lowell asked how youth group had gone. I repeated what Connor had said when he got in the car. Lowell, in response, casually said, “Well Connor, what do you think of Jesus?” Connor’s reply was immediate and full of conviction, “I love Jesus very much.” “That’s all that matters then,” Lowell said. I was a little flabbergasted at Lowell’s nonchalance. I had gotten a little bit more worked up about it. But Lowell is right. Really, at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that our children embrace Jesus. Only Jesus.

  1. Remove the measuring sticks.

We’ve never forced our children to read their Bibles. We’ve never forced them to have a “Quiet Time”. Growing up in boarding school, especially when we were younger, there was a time for “personal devotions” –we were supposed to read our Bibles and pray. To help us in that feat we were given little Scripture Union devotional books. First you worked through the red one and then you could graduate to the Blue one. There was a green one and yellow one and I think, even a purple one. Spirituality became a competition all based on which little workbook you were in. When we were older, I remember reading my Bible in less than private spaces to ensure, subtly, that others might catch a glimpse of my devotion.

Lowell and I could set up a system. We could offer rewards. But I don’t want to raise “white washed tombs”—I want children who want to know God. I don’t want children who look like they want to know God. When Connor makes his bed, he pulls up the top bedspread only. The rest of his blankets lay in a nested mess at the foot of his bed. I don’t want his faith to be like his bed –only one blanket deep and thinly veiling the hypocrisy and mess underneath.

  1. Don’t be afraid of the slippery slope.

It’s scary to parent without the measuring sticks because we have no idea what’s really going on inside the souls of our children. We are out of control. If we have those types of rules in place we know if they’ve been obeyed or if they’ve been broken. They allow us to feel better about ourselves as parents. And without those rules, those mile markers, the measuring guides we have no way of knowing what’s going on. Not only are we out of control but there’s nothing to contribute to our sense of well-doing.

There is a prevailing idea in Christendom that suggests that we can’t completely throw out the law or the rules. Those suggesting this insist we need a balance. Too much grace leads to permissiveness….before you know it you’re on the slippery slope. A little bit of law regulates our behavior in good and productive ways. This type of Christianity results in us controlling behavior; it’s really just sin management.

And it simply is not true. Grace is generous and complete. The law has been erased. The only rule that remains now is the rule of love.

Our worst fears lie on the other end of the slippery slope. Sin. Licentiousness. Paganism. Hedonism.

Jesus calls us to camp out on that slope. To trust ourselves and our children to the depth of his grace. We are called to love: the Lord our God, our neighbours, our families, ourselves. If we do sin, grace pursues us and welcomes us back. We need to remember nothing is wasted by God. He takes the meanderings, those mistakes and he uses them for His glory in our story. We can know he does that with our children too.

Dear New Mom – Part 2

Published on by Marilyn3 Comments

  
Dear New Mom,

A year ago I wrote a letter to you. I saw you on the subway, and you had that amazing look, a look I know so well — the look of a woman in love with her newborn.

So I wrote to you, and I meant every word that I said. Now, your baby is just over a year old, and the glow is gone, but it’s replaced by more maturity and tenacity. A year in and you know some of the work this thing called motherhood takes — it has its moments, doesn’t it? Still, each step, each word – it’s all amazing.

And of course, if you didn’t know before, you know now that every writer, blogger, researcher, celebrity, and Russian babushka has an opinion and expresses that opinion about everything from tummy time to tuna.

This past week, I found myself sorting through old pictures and just like that, I was taken back to a time when I was you — watching this little person become. So I thought back to the letter I wrote last year and I’m adding my voice to the chorus. I ask for you to forgive me when I get it wrong.

First off, there are those who tell you that you really don’t know what it’s like to be a mom since you only have one child….AS IF!! That’s just crazy talk right there! Yes you do my friend! Okay, you may not know what it’s like to be a mom of five, but you sure know what it’s like to be a mom of one. We just have to stop this crazy comparison talk. Just because I have five, doesn’t mean a mom with one doesn’t know what it’s like to be a mom. A mom with six kids is not more of a mom than you are. A mom who adopts is not less of a mom! If you have a child, you’re a mom and that’s it.

Don’t be afraid to travel with your child. Take them early and often. Yes, it’s a lot of work, but you will feel like superwoman when you’ve gone on even a short trip with them. It’s  amazing. I remember traveling to Greece with four kids under six, the youngest was four months old. Two of them got chicken pox on the airplane. I learned that I could do anything, anything if I could do that! You’ll feel the same traveling with your toddler! You will know that you are superwoman!

You’ve likely now had people give you the “first year advice.” It may have been over supporting your baby’s head while you were holding her; it may have been over not keeping them warm enough, or because you made the mistake of breast feeding in public, or pulling out a bottle of formula. Likely you could sometimes laugh, but other times it felt so hard and destructive, and when you got home you dissolved into a puddle of tears. It’s so hard, right? You don’t want to be rude, but you really need to be given space. Remember how in last year’s letter I told you about safe space? Know your safe spaces and your safe people – be nice to others, but don’t let them into that space. I learned to listen to some people, and to others, I had to quietly blow words away. To make it fun, put away a dime for every time someone gives you advice. You will get rich so quick – it will be awesome.

You are smart! Sometimes the loud voices forget that we are smart, and that we are capable of figuring this out for ourselves without a 24-7 diet of information. Trust your intuition because you are probably right.

If you want to dress your kids like they belong on wedding cakes, then you do it! I don’t regret one bow tie or ruffle. It was so much fun dressing those kids, and believe me, the time will come when they will have none of it so just enjoy it while it lasts.

Enjoy the process. It’s so easy to wish our lives away and forget the moments. And I am going to be annoying here and say this: It goes really fast. It doesn’t feel like it does, but as I looked back over my pictures, I was lost in the smiles that good memories bring. We had so much fun. Fun at bath time, fun on picnics, fun on airplanes. There was a lot of joy in the midst of all that growing.

I have to say new mom, that you are my favorite! I am so on your side, and I apologize from my generation for making you believe that you can do it all – because if there is one thing I know — you can’t do it all. Something has to give, and unfortunately it’s usually us. So go with grit and grace, there are a lot of us older moms on your side.

Love, Marilyn [yes – that IS me in the picture – I always made sure I had a nice bathrobe for pictures like that.]

P.S. I ate tuna while I was pregnant.  Lots and lots of tuna. And it’s likely that your child will be potty-trained when they are 13, so don’t buy into this “They aren’t potty-trained yet?! (said with incredulity) Mine’s been potty-trained since ___!” And the point is….?

 

No Child Should Have to be the Firstborn….

Published on by Marilyn3 Comments

 

Firstborn children have the joy and burden of being first. The joy of newness and expectation, the burden of insecure parenting and wanting to get it right. No child should have to be the firstborn. But someone has to, and they deserve special applause as they teach their parents more of what it is to parent, to grow, and to love with an indescribable love.

In our family that someone is Annie.  Today, that infamous day when buildings fell and people wept so many years ago, is her birthday. So today I pause and write to our firstborn.

Dear Annie,

You turn 30 today! I can’t believe it until I look in the mirror and see the laughter lines and tear marks disguised as wrinkles on my face. And then I know – yes indeed! I have a 30-year-old.

No child should have to be the firstborn — and yet, you were. After a long labor, you ushered us into parenthood with hardly a cry. “Is she okay?” we asked anxiously. But you were fine – all six pounds four ounces of your tiny self with your bright blue eyes. You were perfect.

We took you home in baby pajamas that were three sizes too big for you. They were yellow with “Le Petite Bebe” embroidered on the front. During those first few hours at home you slept and slept – and we looked over your Moses basket with worry: “Should we wake her up? I don’t know. Do you think she’s okay? I don’t know.” We decided to wake you up.

That was a mistake. From then on we adhered to the mantra “Never wake a sleeping baby.”

Two weeks later, we moved and this began the trajectory of your life. From a Chicago apartment to a house in New Hampshire to rose gardens in Pakistan; from bustling Cairo to small-town Essex – you have lived in apartments and houses and more apartments and learned to call each one of them home, even when they hurt you.

We look back at pictures and you are so little and we are so young.

You grew up knowing airplanes and airports, thinking that Saturday morning cartoons came in two-hour videos, eating kebabs and curry before you had teeth, having more stamps in your passport at five than many do in a lifetime, and believing that Arabic is the language of the world.

You were so gentle as you taught us about parenting. You were our naiveté and our idealism; you were our youth and our mistakes; you were our uncertainty about curfews and our ignorance about boundaries; you were our energy and our travel; you were our reentry angst and our struggle to fit in the new world we found ourselves.

You have given us so much grace on this journey – and we thank you.

You are a reader and dreamer, you are a shout for justice and a ready made party. You are a writer, an artist, a doula, a friend.

You are daughter of our youth and our heart, and we love you. And so we raise our glasses to you the firstborn – resilient, beautiful, talented, funny, irritating, brave, engaging, and lover of all things champagne on a beer-budget.

Happy Birthday Dear Girl!