I don't even know what to title this post...
And I don't promise it will be well written or well thought out...
I simply need to say that it pains me as I watch amazing, thoughtful, compassionate, kind people define themselves according to what "good Christian people" have told them is right or true.
Why does one person feel the need to tell another that because she wonders she is not a Christian?
Why does one person feel the need to tell another that because he questions he is going to hell?
Why does one person feel the need to tell another that because her answers are different than his she is wrong?
Why do so many feel the need to be so certain, to be so right, and in the process to be so destructive?
Why do so many people seem to be so scared to live in the gray area?
And how do I raise my children in the midst of this all too usual rhetoric to be kind and caring, compassionate and accepting, thoughtful and loving, open minded and encouraging?
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, December 18, 2011
He's So Clever
Don't you love when your children start to outsmart you?
The three-year-old tried today.
He's been on medicine for the last ten days and it is yucky! He says so and just smelling it has caused me to agree with him. So, his daddy taught him a trick...pinch your nose shut and it won't taste so bad.
For the last ten days that's what we've done. He's pinched his nose while I squirted his medicine into his mouth.
Tonight was the last dose. We were celebrating that fact in anticipation of one last swallow. Finally I looked at him and said, "Okay, now hold your nose and I'll squirt the medicine in your mouth."
He replied, "How about you hold your nose and I'll squirt the medicine in YOUR mouth!"
He's so clever...but I didn't fall for it!
The three-year-old tried today.
He's been on medicine for the last ten days and it is yucky! He says so and just smelling it has caused me to agree with him. So, his daddy taught him a trick...pinch your nose shut and it won't taste so bad.
For the last ten days that's what we've done. He's pinched his nose while I squirted his medicine into his mouth.
Tonight was the last dose. We were celebrating that fact in anticipation of one last swallow. Finally I looked at him and said, "Okay, now hold your nose and I'll squirt the medicine in your mouth."
He replied, "How about you hold your nose and I'll squirt the medicine in YOUR mouth!"
He's so clever...but I didn't fall for it!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
When I Might Spank
Spanking is not an activity I participate in. It is not a form of discipline I embrace. It is simply not in me because in the deepest part of my core I just can't imagine motivating my children with physical punishment.
But, that doesn't mean that I'm not aware of the moments when I might spank...if I did.
Here are a few examples:
1) If I were a spanker, the day might begin with spanking. When I look at the clock and realize that the school day begins at kindergarten in exactly 13 minutes (ten of which is taken up by our drive) and we don't even have shoes and coats on and the boys aren't moving when I say move or in the manner that I want them to...then I might spank.
2) If I were a spanker, there might be spankings in the car. After all, when I get on the phone (you did know that my car is my phone booth, right?), having asked the children to be quiet, having turned down their favorite songs on the radio so I can hear my phone conversation, and then they end up not only talking but talking loudly or worse off fighting and yelling and I realize how easy it would be to reach back and slap (btw - I consider spank, slap, swat, any way of making harsh contact between an adult's hand or object and a child for the purpose of discipline or punishment to be synonyms) a flailing leg...then I might spank.
3) If I were a spanker, spankings might be part of our evening routine. When we are heading home from meetings or errands and it's already past the children's bedtime and they haven't been home since early morning and they haven't had time to play with their toys and did I mention it's past their bedtime so they are tired...when this is happening and we get home and I want them to hurry and get their pjs on and teeth brushed and get in bed, but they want to play for a moment with a new toy or have a snack or watch the last few minutes of a cartoon and so they don't move fast and they aren't eager to get pjs on...then I might spank.
4) If I were a spanker, our day might end with a spanking. When I've put the boys to bed and I've said good night and I've hugged them and tucked them in but then I hear the pitter patter of little feet (which I hear right now as if on cue) and the three-year-old says his throat is making him get up (which he did just now) or he says he wants to sleep somewhere else or wants me to lay down with him or it is too dark...and when I've responded once or twice or three times and there are still footsteps coming down the hall...then I might spank.
I could go on and on. In fact, it's not unusual for me to be in these or other moments and actually think - if I were a spanker, I'd be doing it now. I'm aware of many situations that while being in the midst of them spanking could seem like an appropriate or effective response.
I'm also aware of how glad I am to be highly committed to not spanking. Because as I look at this list and as I think about other moments when I might otherwise spank (or at least threaten it) I see how easy to would be for spanking to be as routine as hugging...for swatting to be more common than speaking...for slapping to become the regular physical contact.
I wouldn't be at all surprised if I am more often late than my spanking counterparts...more often sucked in to that one last pre-bedtime question...more often seen in public with "free spirited" children. And yet, I won't apologize for these.
After all, I dream of a world where we raise a generation who is not motivated by fear or threat. I dream of a world where we raise a generation who has not witnessed force or intimidation being used as the answer to the unknown or the out-of-control. I don't get to raise this generation, but I have the privilege of raising two of them and, although my voice does raise and on occasion my head spins, I will do my best to raise them with love and listening, with tenderness and understanding, with the respect I hope they will give to others.
But, that doesn't mean that I'm not aware of the moments when I might spank...if I did.
Here are a few examples:
1) If I were a spanker, the day might begin with spanking. When I look at the clock and realize that the school day begins at kindergarten in exactly 13 minutes (ten of which is taken up by our drive) and we don't even have shoes and coats on and the boys aren't moving when I say move or in the manner that I want them to...then I might spank.
2) If I were a spanker, there might be spankings in the car. After all, when I get on the phone (you did know that my car is my phone booth, right?), having asked the children to be quiet, having turned down their favorite songs on the radio so I can hear my phone conversation, and then they end up not only talking but talking loudly or worse off fighting and yelling and I realize how easy it would be to reach back and slap (btw - I consider spank, slap, swat, any way of making harsh contact between an adult's hand or object and a child for the purpose of discipline or punishment to be synonyms) a flailing leg...then I might spank.
3) If I were a spanker, spankings might be part of our evening routine. When we are heading home from meetings or errands and it's already past the children's bedtime and they haven't been home since early morning and they haven't had time to play with their toys and did I mention it's past their bedtime so they are tired...when this is happening and we get home and I want them to hurry and get their pjs on and teeth brushed and get in bed, but they want to play for a moment with a new toy or have a snack or watch the last few minutes of a cartoon and so they don't move fast and they aren't eager to get pjs on...then I might spank.
4) If I were a spanker, our day might end with a spanking. When I've put the boys to bed and I've said good night and I've hugged them and tucked them in but then I hear the pitter patter of little feet (which I hear right now as if on cue) and the three-year-old says his throat is making him get up (which he did just now) or he says he wants to sleep somewhere else or wants me to lay down with him or it is too dark...and when I've responded once or twice or three times and there are still footsteps coming down the hall...then I might spank.
I could go on and on. In fact, it's not unusual for me to be in these or other moments and actually think - if I were a spanker, I'd be doing it now. I'm aware of many situations that while being in the midst of them spanking could seem like an appropriate or effective response.
I'm also aware of how glad I am to be highly committed to not spanking. Because as I look at this list and as I think about other moments when I might otherwise spank (or at least threaten it) I see how easy to would be for spanking to be as routine as hugging...for swatting to be more common than speaking...for slapping to become the regular physical contact.
I wouldn't be at all surprised if I am more often late than my spanking counterparts...more often sucked in to that one last pre-bedtime question...more often seen in public with "free spirited" children. And yet, I won't apologize for these.
After all, I dream of a world where we raise a generation who is not motivated by fear or threat. I dream of a world where we raise a generation who has not witnessed force or intimidation being used as the answer to the unknown or the out-of-control. I don't get to raise this generation, but I have the privilege of raising two of them and, although my voice does raise and on occasion my head spins, I will do my best to raise them with love and listening, with tenderness and understanding, with the respect I hope they will give to others.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Witnessing Generosity
My first born turned 6 this last week. In recognition that he's a big kid, my dad and step-mom took him shopping for his birthday gift rather than buying one of their choosing. My dad had told him before entering how much money he had to spend and then, within that amount, it was up to him. I wish I would have been there to witness what happened.
You see, my children (especially the 6-year-old, but following in his footsteps, the 3-year-old) have gotten into Webkinz. Are you familiar with these furry little creatures? They look like any other stuffed animal and come in ALL varieties. But the really cool thing is that they come with a secret code which allows you to then get on the website and create your virtual pet. You make him or her a home, feed and play with them, even play games. It's like two toys for one purchase! Ours is a home where four people and some obnoxious number of Webkinz live happily.
Having said that, the first thing the 6-year-old looked for at the store was Webkinz. So, upon finding the Webkinz, he began his careful consideration. Finally, meticulously, he picked out a Lynx. While his grandparents expected to move on, he wasn't done. He then picked out a second Webkinz, a grizzly bear. As he sat them next to each other he said, "This one is for me and this one is for my brother."
My dad waited, expecting him to propose that Grandpa buy his little brother this new toy. But that's not what happened. Instead, he turned to his grandpa for help with the math, added the two together, subtracted that from the total he had to spend and happily chose both toys.
A six-year-old's birthday money willingly spent on his little brother - that's generosity I'm happy to witness...and remember...and learn from.
You see, my children (especially the 6-year-old, but following in his footsteps, the 3-year-old) have gotten into Webkinz. Are you familiar with these furry little creatures? They look like any other stuffed animal and come in ALL varieties. But the really cool thing is that they come with a secret code which allows you to then get on the website and create your virtual pet. You make him or her a home, feed and play with them, even play games. It's like two toys for one purchase! Ours is a home where four people and some obnoxious number of Webkinz live happily.
Having said that, the first thing the 6-year-old looked for at the store was Webkinz. So, upon finding the Webkinz, he began his careful consideration. Finally, meticulously, he picked out a Lynx. While his grandparents expected to move on, he wasn't done. He then picked out a second Webkinz, a grizzly bear. As he sat them next to each other he said, "This one is for me and this one is for my brother."
My dad waited, expecting him to propose that Grandpa buy his little brother this new toy. But that's not what happened. Instead, he turned to his grandpa for help with the math, added the two together, subtracted that from the total he had to spend and happily chose both toys.
A six-year-old's birthday money willingly spent on his little brother - that's generosity I'm happy to witness...and remember...and learn from.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Lessons from a Lunch Box
In the last five months, since our community was struck by a tornado, there have been many conversations about the role of God.
Does God cause natural disasters or are they just part of nature?
How do we use the word blessing in the midst of such events? What are the implications of claiming blessing when my house was not destroyed, life was not ended, etc?
Does God really choose to be in control? Is it enough for God to be present?
Do bad things happen to bring about good outcomes or do good outcomes occur even in the face of bad things?
In the midst of one of these conversations, I shared this story...
One recent afternoon, I picked up my kindergartener as I do nearly every afternoon. He got in the car and we began talking about his day. What did he learn? Who did he play with during recess? Was the lunch I packed okay?
(Cue sobbing)
It seemed he had left his lunch box at school instead of bringing it home.
Although this child of mine takes many things in stride, it is not unusual for the seemingly smallest thing to set him off and cause a major crisis. On that day, it was the lunch box left behind.
My first thought was to keep driving, tell him that it would be there tomorrow, remind him that he needed to be more responsible.
But before doing any of that, I thought better.
No, the lack of lunch box was not a crisis to me. Yes, it really would be fine if we got it the next day. (He does after all mark the lunch calendar ahead of time to indicate whether he is taking his lunch or eating school lunch and the next day was a school lunch day.)
But to him it mattered.
So, I pulled over and asked him to take a deep breath. How could we handle this, I asked. After a few deep breaths and some conversation, we came to the conclusion that we could go park, walk into the school and retrieve the lunch box.
As we walked back to the car, lunch box in his hand, other hand wiping the last evidence of his tears from his face, it seemed worth the extra trouble.
No, the lack of lunch box was not a crisis to me. In the big picture of his life, the forgotten lunch box will not really matter. But, how I respond does matter. Considering his feelings, whether they make sense to me or not, does matter. Validating his experience as real does matter.
Does God have some bigger view that allows for an understanding that many of our crises are really just minor bumps in the road? That may very well be. I simply do not know. But what I do believe is that even if this is true, God stands with us in the midst of our joy and our pain, mourning or celebrating along side us, validating our experience and reminding us that we matter.
Does God cause natural disasters or are they just part of nature?
How do we use the word blessing in the midst of such events? What are the implications of claiming blessing when my house was not destroyed, life was not ended, etc?
Does God really choose to be in control? Is it enough for God to be present?
Do bad things happen to bring about good outcomes or do good outcomes occur even in the face of bad things?
Is what we view as bad really bad or is it good in some bigger picture way?
In the midst of one of these conversations, I shared this story...
One recent afternoon, I picked up my kindergartener as I do nearly every afternoon. He got in the car and we began talking about his day. What did he learn? Who did he play with during recess? Was the lunch I packed okay?
(Cue sobbing)
It seemed he had left his lunch box at school instead of bringing it home.
Although this child of mine takes many things in stride, it is not unusual for the seemingly smallest thing to set him off and cause a major crisis. On that day, it was the lunch box left behind.
My first thought was to keep driving, tell him that it would be there tomorrow, remind him that he needed to be more responsible.
But before doing any of that, I thought better.
No, the lack of lunch box was not a crisis to me. Yes, it really would be fine if we got it the next day. (He does after all mark the lunch calendar ahead of time to indicate whether he is taking his lunch or eating school lunch and the next day was a school lunch day.)
But to him it mattered.
So, I pulled over and asked him to take a deep breath. How could we handle this, I asked. After a few deep breaths and some conversation, we came to the conclusion that we could go park, walk into the school and retrieve the lunch box.
As we walked back to the car, lunch box in his hand, other hand wiping the last evidence of his tears from his face, it seemed worth the extra trouble.
No, the lack of lunch box was not a crisis to me. In the big picture of his life, the forgotten lunch box will not really matter. But, how I respond does matter. Considering his feelings, whether they make sense to me or not, does matter. Validating his experience as real does matter.
Does God have some bigger view that allows for an understanding that many of our crises are really just minor bumps in the road? That may very well be. I simply do not know. But what I do believe is that even if this is true, God stands with us in the midst of our joy and our pain, mourning or celebrating along side us, validating our experience and reminding us that we matter.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
When It's Just Not So Black and White
I look at the title I just assigned to this entry and I laugh.
Is it ever black and white?
See, I'm one of those people who lives in the gray...who asks just one more question...who wants room to change her mind and doesn't feel like doing so requires an apology...who believes that there is a new understanding to be embraced just around the corner.
At some level I do understand that there is reward in black and white (at least for some people). There is reward in knowing (or thinking you know) something for certain...in making declarations without considering the thought that you are wrong. I get that that works for some people, but it doesn't work for me.
I listen to so many statements made by people of faith about families and I can't help but say it's not always black and white. You know the statements I'm talking about...
A woman's place is in the home. But what about the women I know who are gifted and called to vocations outside the home? What about the men I know who are gifted and called to work at home? What about families I know who are doing just great with two working parents.
The man is the head of the household. But what about families where the woman is the one gifted for spiritual leadership? And what about the reality that the first assignment of "head" to the man was given in Genesis as punishment for sin rather than the created ideal?
Gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry or have children. But what about the gay couples I know whose relationships are loving, compassionate, caring, generous, and forgiving? What about the straight couples I know whose relationships are full of hatred, laced with adultery, riddled with resentment? Why does having different body parts make a relationship okay even when nothing else about it is good? Why does having the same body parts make a relationship wrong even if it fulfills God's desires in every other way?
Children should be seen and not heard. Then why did Jesus call them? Why did he lift them up as examples for the receiving of the kingdom?
There are so many voices that would like people to believe that the downfall of our society (you did know we're in a downfall, right?) is due to: women working outside the home or gay relationships or children not knowing their place.
And yet I can't help but wonder if the most detrimental things in our society aren't hatred and fear. I can't help but wonder if maybe the answers aren't bound in neat packages where each family resembles the Cleavers (of Leave It to Beaver fame) but instead maybe the answers lie in love, in discernment, in discovering God's will for individuals, for families, in the sacred journey of discovering our true selves and respecting who God created us enough to become that person.
Is it ever black and white?
See, I'm one of those people who lives in the gray...who asks just one more question...who wants room to change her mind and doesn't feel like doing so requires an apology...who believes that there is a new understanding to be embraced just around the corner.
At some level I do understand that there is reward in black and white (at least for some people). There is reward in knowing (or thinking you know) something for certain...in making declarations without considering the thought that you are wrong. I get that that works for some people, but it doesn't work for me.
I listen to so many statements made by people of faith about families and I can't help but say it's not always black and white. You know the statements I'm talking about...
A woman's place is in the home. But what about the women I know who are gifted and called to vocations outside the home? What about the men I know who are gifted and called to work at home? What about families I know who are doing just great with two working parents.
The man is the head of the household. But what about families where the woman is the one gifted for spiritual leadership? And what about the reality that the first assignment of "head" to the man was given in Genesis as punishment for sin rather than the created ideal?
Gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry or have children. But what about the gay couples I know whose relationships are loving, compassionate, caring, generous, and forgiving? What about the straight couples I know whose relationships are full of hatred, laced with adultery, riddled with resentment? Why does having different body parts make a relationship okay even when nothing else about it is good? Why does having the same body parts make a relationship wrong even if it fulfills God's desires in every other way?
Children should be seen and not heard. Then why did Jesus call them? Why did he lift them up as examples for the receiving of the kingdom?
There are so many voices that would like people to believe that the downfall of our society (you did know we're in a downfall, right?) is due to: women working outside the home or gay relationships or children not knowing their place.
And yet I can't help but wonder if the most detrimental things in our society aren't hatred and fear. I can't help but wonder if maybe the answers aren't bound in neat packages where each family resembles the Cleavers (of Leave It to Beaver fame) but instead maybe the answers lie in love, in discernment, in discovering God's will for individuals, for families, in the sacred journey of discovering our true selves and respecting who God created us enough to become that person.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Fiction or Non-fiction
Tonight (while avoiding going to bed) my five-year-old (who had already been told to return to his bed at least three times) came out to the dining room where the following conversation took place:
Him: Mom, one other thing. "Spooky Buddies" - you know, the movie - is that fiction or non-fiction?
Me: You learned something new today, didn't you? Was that in library time?
Him: (proudly) Yes!
Me: So, what is fiction and what is non-fiction?
Him: Non-fiction is when it's real. And fiction is when it's fake.
Me: (thinking someday - when he's more than five - we'll have conversations about how fiction isn't always fake and non-fiction isn't always as true as it claims to be, how Truth can be found in both and isn't always where we assume, etc, etc) So, what is "Spooky Buddies"?
Him: (thinking) Fiction!
Him: What about...
Me: Go to bed! We can talk about others tomorrow.
I love knowing what he learned and I love when he wants to share...
even if it's really all about avoiding bedtime!
Him: Mom, one other thing. "Spooky Buddies" - you know, the movie - is that fiction or non-fiction?
Me: You learned something new today, didn't you? Was that in library time?
Him: (proudly) Yes!
Me: So, what is fiction and what is non-fiction?
Him: Non-fiction is when it's real. And fiction is when it's fake.
Me: (thinking someday - when he's more than five - we'll have conversations about how fiction isn't always fake and non-fiction isn't always as true as it claims to be, how Truth can be found in both and isn't always where we assume, etc, etc) So, what is "Spooky Buddies"?
Him: (thinking) Fiction!
Him: What about...
Me: Go to bed! We can talk about others tomorrow.
I love knowing what he learned and I love when he wants to share...
even if it's really all about avoiding bedtime!
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