Tag: parenting (Page 1 of 2)

How to Raise Resilient Kids in a Dangerous World

I was treading water in Lake Geneva on a hot summer afternoon, wondering if I might die. My 8 year old eyes were focused 12 feet above me on the 4 foot square wooden platform attached to a pier with a vertical ladder – like the tiny platform the circus clown jumps off and into a bucket of water. My cousin climbed the rickety steps while other siblings and cousins waited in line behind him.

Here was the game we were playing: Kid #1 jumps off the “high dive” (read rotted wooden death trap) and treads water below while Kids 2, 3, 4…, one at a time, try to jump as close as possible without crushing the ones in the water until everyone is in the water, hopefully all still breathing. Fun times!

Yep, kind of like human bocce ball but with higher stakes.

What can I say? We were creative and adventurous.

I look back on the things my parents let me do (including traveling in Europe alone) and I am astounded that I’m here to tell about it.

As a parent myself of kids who have now survived to adulthood, I’m amazed they made it relatively unscathed too. There are many times I look back and say to myself, “What were we thinking??!!!”

I love this post from my friend, Rachelle! We’re all just doing the best we can!

The world is vastly different from when I was a kid, or when my kids were young. None of us had active shooter drills at school. So what are the crucial choices we make to foster independence while keeping our kids, grandkids, or students safe in a dangerous world?

As my friend, Sally says “I’ve basically got my kids for 18 years. I need to make the most of the time and steward it well.”

Although I applied it very imperfectly, the best thing I learned when my kids were little is this:

We have three jobs: protect our kids, prepare them, and pray for them.

What the first two look like at different ages will vary.

1. When they are little we major on protecting them.

We put child locks on cupboards and strap them in car seats.

We also ask ourselves questions like:

  • What controls should we put on different tech devices?
  • When should we let our kids have a phone?
  • Are sleepovers with friends ok?

2. As they grow, there is less we can do to protect them, and we major on preparing them for the dangers they are increasingly navigating alone.

We have conversations at the dinner table, anticipating different situations they may have to navigate.

We tell the truth about the dangers they may face, but we remind them that the Creator of the universe is with them, equipping them for any situation.

And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

2 Cor. 9:8

“The Spirit in you is far stronger than anything in the world.”

1 john 4:4

3. No matter what age they are, we cover our kids in prayer.

Lord, I can’t be with my kids every moment, but You can.

I can’t know everything, or see everything, but You do.

I place them in Your hands.

Father, help them to be brave, and wise and kind.

Protect them in body, mind, and spirit.

May they see unmistakable evidence of your love and faithfulness today.

What are some of the situations your kids may face right now at the age they are? I’d really like to hear from you in the comments!

What Story do You Want to be Able to Tell in Fifteen Years?

On this blog I share stories from my life, but my deepest prayer is that they wouldn’t be just about me, but about all of us and our quest to see the hand of God in all of life.  Even though this was written 10 years ago, and a lot has changed, I hope it’s meaningful for parents and sons and daughters alike.

A Letter to my Daughters, May, 2012

Dear Precious Girls,

As I write this we’re on our third flight coming home from Sri Lanka, through Mumbai and Amsterdam.  Too much time to think.  Feeling out of sync with time changes, and nostalgic, and ready to sleep in my own bed and be in a normal summer routine that includes Minnesota lakes and green grass.

In this season, traveling to exotic places, experiencing the humidity and dust of ancient cultures, the taste of unusual spices and the the smell of incense and poverty, I am grateful.  But I also long for home and the simplicity of summer days when you both were little.

Playing Monopoly and hopscotch on the driveway, picking strawberries, and making water balloons, and walking to the library as we were serenaded by cicadas.  Creating forts and reading Betsy, Tacy, and Tib aloud on hot summer afternoons that we savored like melting popsicles, slurping up the goodness of the day.

I think in contrast, of this season of your life now, as young professional women living in D.C. where you have a vibrant faith community, stimulating dialog about important ideas, and the opportunity to experience Supreme Court arguments, Embassy receptions, and White House fireworks.  A good, good season.

I want you to savor every moment, drink up every drop.  To choose life in all its fullness.

This is the season of your life when you’ll set courageous goals and experience lovely victories and maybe fall flat on your face some too.  You’ll nurture friendships, look to wise mentors, and invest in causes that are deeply meaningful.

It’s the season when you get to ask yourself,  “What story do I want to be able to tell in fifteen years?”

Will it matter what Netflix you binged on, or that you had the courage to stand up for what’s right, or learned the name of the homeless guy on your corner, or invited that lonely person to church? What will you remember? What will make a difference? What will grow your character?

In this season I pray you’ll pause, not only to acknowledge the good gifts, but also the Gift Giver.  Yeah, I know there are rough days with job stress, and not enough money, and bad hair days, and questions about what’s next and where, but still…

I may be tempted to look back with longing, and you to look forward with longing, but meanwhile there’s today.  Gregory Boyle quotes Thich Nhat Hahn saying “our true home is the present moment.”

The Desert Fathers would repeat one word over and over.  Not “Jesus” or “Love”, but the word, “today”.  It reminded them where they needed to be.

So today, where you are, and where I am, let’s just choose life and thanksgiving in the present.  God is good.  We get to sing “Great is Thy Faithfulness” in every season. May He write an inspiring paragraph through your life today.

And when you come home this summer for a visit, let’s be sure to play Monopoly and go to Dairy Queen.

love,

Mama

What are you praying for your children? Let me know in the comments and I’ll join you in prayer.

How to be a Perfect Parent

Sweaty but eager, we gather around our tennis coach after a drill.  In wrapping up, he reminds us of something he says often about “winning”. “Instead of worrying about whether you’re winning, you need to just stay in the present point. You need to detach from the outcome.”

Immediately one of the other moms on the team says, “That’s what I do with my kids!”

Does that mean she doesn’t care if her kids are convicts or racists or just neglect to say “thank you”? Not at all! It just means that she knows she can only be responsible for her part.

When they’re little that includes coaching and consequences, time-outs and training.

And prayer. Lots of prayer.

I have a mentor friend who used to tell her kids, “I have you basically for 18 years and I’m going to steward that time as wisely and prayerfully as I can.” Does that mean when they turned 18 she tore up her “mom card” and said “Phew, I’m done!”? Absolutely not. She continues to pray, trusting God to get her kids where they need to go. 

Another friend has a grown daughter with issues. She kept rescuing her daughter from the consequences of her bad choices as an adult until she had a “Detach from the outcome” moment. She realized her actions were driven by what others might think of her as a parent if they saw her daughter’s destructive behavior. She opened her hands and acknowledged that her daughter was differentiated from her – an adult, responsible for her own choices. Again, that didn’t mean she stopped loving and praying fervently for her daughter. It meant she clarified what was her job, and what was her daughter’s job.

But the other day I was talking to one of my closest friends about a family member we’ve prayed for for 15 years without seeing the fruit we have begged God for. WHY Lord?

I wonder…What might it have been like for the father in the parable of the prodigal son?

How long was the son gone? How long did the dad pray?

Did he go over in his mind all the mistakes he had made as a parent? The times when he lost his temper? The times they skipped family devotions? That time he was too busy to play catch? Did he struggle to trust God to forgive and redeem his parental shortcomings?

Did he pray, somedays feeling like it was hopeless – like his son would never come to his senses?

He let his son go. He let him experience the consequences of his actions. Did he fight the urge every day to run to the “far country” and rescue him?

Did he struggle to know what his part was and what God’s part was? What the parable says is that he kept waiting and watching.

When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him.” Luke 15:20

How can you be a perfect parent? You admit you’re not, and you embrace your job to pray and wait and watch, trusting the only One who is.

God, the one and only—
    I’ll wait as long as he says.
Everything I hope for comes from him,
    so why not?
He’s solid rock under my feet,
    breathing room for my soul… Psalm 62:5-6

 

 

In the Bunker with Jesus

A couple weeks ago I wrote a post about parenting and our view of God. Later I was at a park with my friend, Emily Conrad, and her children. I’ve had the privilege of walking alongside Emily through some really dark times.

She is a woman of tremendous faith and authenticity who is “working out her salvation”, looking for the real Jesus. When I asked her to share where she had seen Jesus recently, she told this story which I asked her to write down for you. It is a joy to welcome Emily to the blog today!

In my basement, there is a storage closet that we have lovingly started calling The Bunker.

It houses my camping gear & tent, Christmas wrapping paper, numerous garage sale items and far too many books from grad school.

About a month ago, my husband and I decided that our children (or maybe ourselves) needed a safe place to get out all of our angst, our anger, our emotions that have a tendency to scare the other members of the family in the midst of daily life with five people.

We made up a rule that the Bunker was the place to go when you feel out of control, and that Mom or Dad would stay in the Bunker with you while you yelled or screamed or cried at the top of your lungs. However, we might use our earplugs so that our eardrums didn’t shatter.  The important thing, though, was that we would stay together in the messiness. Specifically, we thought our middle daughter might benefit from a safe place to “just get it all out”- and side note, our therapist gave us the green light for this idea. ☺

Our middle daughter is a rock star 6 yr old, a little lady who has faced more uphill battles in the first few years of her life than most people face in their entire lifetime- abandonment, attachment issues, relocation, being the lone black kiddo in a white family, change of name-all before she was 2 years old. And with all of that comes a lot of heartache and emotions that she can’t process in her body so it often comes out in brutal, ugly screaming- like a torrent of anger and loss and pain. I want to say that I am able to handle her strong emotions like a champ. I’ve been her Mom for four years already – I should be a pro. However, that’s not quite true. Her outbursts make me want to run away most days, if I’m really honest.

So recently we had a moment, my daughter and I, when I was getting heated up at just the same rate that she was getting heated up. Things were not going to end well. An issue that started out small and was rapidly blowing up.

Time to head to the Bunker. This was not super well-received, but we headed to the Bunker anyway.

At first there was a total refusal to work through things: “I’m not mad and I’m not going to do this”, which quickly turned into an epic scream fest, (by her-not me). Think banshee decibel. I calmly popped in my earplugs as she was screaming and I thought to myself, “Go ahead, girlfriend, get it all out. I am in total control here. Do what you’ve gotta do. I am calm.” Not very empathic, obviously.

As she stood there screaming, beads of sweat on her forehead, I noticed something in my spirit that went like this: “I wish I wasn’t stuck in here. This feels so messy and chaotic. Ugh. Anyone else want to trade places with me?! I don’t do mess.”

And as I stood with my daughter in the Bunker, but not truly with her, I realized that I don’t like bunker situations.  In fact, I usually run from them.

But I know that the past several years of my life have been just that- Bunker-y. Messy, chaotic, yuck…both internally and externally as we have navigated life with our daughter. It has been lonely and exhausting and has felt like the pit of despair- just like it felt in the Bunker that day.

After several minutes, there was a flicker of hope that went off in my heart as I started crying, rather sobbing, over my life and my mistakes and my own heartache and my own need to feel heard and loved in the midst of messiness and brokenness – how I have needed someone to be with me in the thick of it. In the Bunker, I felt Jesus say, “I am with you in all of your Bunker, in your anger, in your despair, and it’s not too much for Me. I can take this on for you.”

I turned to my daughter and with what can only be called the mercy and compassion of Jesus, I saw her tears and fear and pain and I thought, “I can take this on for you- I can stay with you in the Bunker whatever that entails. I can take on your messiness and chaos because that’s what love does.” As I knelt down to my daughter and hugged her and cried with her, there was such a profound sense of connection and empathy and I-am-with-you-in-this, all of this.

I’m not sure if you have a place or a sacred moment or even someone who sits in the Bunker with you, but I hope these things for you.

Looking for Dad

Friday I’m sitting in the back of Starbucks with my Bible and study books laid out before me when a dad in a dark business suit walks in with his teenage son before work and school.

Dad just has coffee.

Son sits down with most everything edible on the menu – the meal of a growing guy who’s already taller than his father. Instead of coffee, he sips from a juice box – the one hint that there is still a little boy hiding inside this gangly boy/man.

Father and son are awkwardly silent. Eyes glance anywhere but at each other. It’s painful to watch.  I can almost hear their minds spinning, searching for common ground…anything to talk about in this season when a head of red hair seems to be the only thing they share.

What if I say something stupid?

What if he sees my weakness?

After a few seconds Dad gets up with his coffee and walks out into the hall, leaving son behind without saying anything. Is he looking for a bathroom? Making a call? Can he just not stand the deafening silence?

Teenage Opie sits alone, eating his breakfast. Curiously, I notice that he doesn’t pull out a smartphone to distract or entertain himself. He just eats, looking lonely. And I wonder what’s going through his mind. What is he thinking about his dad?

Does he know God? What might this relationship be teaching him about his heavenly Father?

“I will never leave or forsake you.”

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God…”

“Come to me…”

The dad never comes back, and when finished eating, the son wanders into the hall looking for him.

What if Dad had said, “This is a hard season for both of us. I want to be a good dad, but I’m unsure of myself. I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing, but I care. I want to listen to what’s important to you. I’m for you. Nothing can make me love you less than I do right now.”

Saturday I was at the same table when a young mom comes in with her 4-year-old daughter, large cheery pink bow in her hair and a smile to match.

Although in an easier season, like Dad and son, this mom and daughter have a chasm of years and experience between them.

But Mom never once pulls out a cell phone. She looks her daughter in the eye and  asks questions and chats about everything important to a toddler.

What is that little girl learning about her heavenly Parent?

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.”

 

When we are present, when we lean in, when create safe places, we reflect the image of our Heavenly Father.

Worst. Parents. Ever.

Do you ever feel this way? Like you must be the worst parents ever?

Do you feel like you’re perpetually living a Plan B Christmas? Like NOTHING is going right?

Amazon was out of the Syma S107 Remote Control Helicopter so your child will probably have to be in therapy because they will be warped – devastated by disappointment, and labeled with a huge L.

You ran out of time, so instead of homemade cookies for the Christmas pageant reception you ran through Target to scoop up some store-bought ones, which actually took you an hour and 17 minutes (almost as long as it would have taken you to bake them).

Decorating the Christmas tree was supposed to be a fun family activity, but your 4-year-old swooped around the tree in his superman costume and knocked off two of the heirloom ornaments from your mother, breaking them into tiny pieces which the dog immediately ate. You’re still cleaning up glittery dog vomit.

You’re not alone.

Have you ever thought that maybe Mary and Joseph felt like the worst parents ever?

Trying to adapt to a Plan B life, they’ve absorbed the loss of a traditional wedding and “It’s a Wonderful Life” family.

Now they’ve had 9 months to adjust to the news that Mary is growing, you know… GOD in her womb, and like any expectant parents they’re probably nervous but preparing to do their best.

Maybe Joseph has made a cradle. Maybe Mary’s mom is ready to come and help out when the baby arrives. They probably have a PLAN for Pete’s sake!

img_0962

I’m guessing that walking 90 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem to register for the census was not part of their plan.

What do you think they felt as they traveled? Did their fear of the unknown come out sideways in anger or impatience with each other? Did their out-of-controlness in the big things cause them to be controlling with each other in the little things?

Maybe Mary figured that since she was carrying royalty, God would alert others in Bethlehem and someone would put her up in a beautiful home. Nope. Didn’t happen.

Did they hope that at least Plan B would include a modest room and a little privacy?  No luck there either.

In the stable – stinky, dirty, crowded, what were they thinking? Were they feeling like the worst parents ever?

We can’t know the anguished labor pains that may have come from Mary, or the desperate pleas that Joseph may have given for help because they aren’t recorded.

Did they felt confidently carried in the will of God, or did they felt panicky, like when company shows up early and you’re not ready?

What we do know is this. They did what they could. They accepted the unexpected with commitment and creativity. And that’s all we can do as parents.

“Help” is a prayer that is always answered. It doesn’t matter how you pray–with your head bowed in silence, or crying out in grief, or dancing. Churches are good for prayer, but so are garages and cars and mountains and showers and dance floors. Years ago I wrote an essay that began, “Some people think that God is in the details, but I have come to believe that God is in the bathroom.” – Anne Lamott

God is with you. In the dirty stable, or the bathroom or when you think you’re going to lose it with your mother-in-law.

You aren’t the worst parent ever. But you’re not the best parent ever either, because He is.

 

What Do We Say to our Daughters and Sons?

Back in the 90’s we grappled with how to talk to our kids about Bill Clinton’s immorality.

Yesterday a dad with two daughters asked me and a couple other moms with grown kids how he ought to talk to his 11-year-old about what she is hearing about the Trump tape.

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He started a conversation, driving her home one day recently and she said “Oh I know all about that! I hear about it at school”.

Here’s the thing. Our kids may have INFORMATION.

Our daughters and sons may know that WHAT they are hearing is wrong, but they need to know WHY it is inappropriate and HOW to be strong and brave in potential situations they may find themselves in.

If there is one regret I have as a mom it’s that I didn’t coach my kids for awkward situations more.

The good news is that this terrible tape and election in the gutter gives us a chance to reiterate with our daughters (and sons) that they are fearfully and wonderfully made. God has created them inside and out as amazing bundles of uniqueness to be cherished – treated with respect, and honor.

Over and over again as they go out the door we need to remind them that they are precious masterpieces of infinite worth.

And then we need to say…

If someone uses lewd, crude language that offends you…

If someone talks about another person in a way that is degrading…

If someone asks you to do something that makes you uncomfortable…

If someone touches you in a way that is unwanted…

You are the boss of you.

You are the boss of your eyes and ears, your mind and body.

You ALWAYS have a choice. God has made you of infinite worth and so you look up, not down.

You may be scared, but you whisper the prayer that never fails: “Help.” Then you stand tall and use your voice. You say, “STOP! THIS IS NOT OK!”

  • But what about the value of tolerance?

This kind of behavior is evil and evil is never to be tolerated.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men [or women] to do nothing.” Edmund Burke

  • But what if they laugh at me?

You pity them. You look them straight in the eye and say, “Your laughter does not make me less than.” I am trying to respect you and I expect you to show me respect too.

 “Strong men — men who are truly role models — don’t need to put down women to make themselves feel powerful.” Michelle Obama

  • But what if they call me a prude?

Words matter. They can hurt . But when that happens you wrap yourself in this word: “BELOVED”. And you remember:

“A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”  Luke 6:45

May God work even this together for good in our homes. May we raise brave, kind, strong sons and daughters who respect themselves and others.

“When they go low, we go…”

8 Valuable Choices I Learned From Mentor Moms

When my kids were tinies I realized quickly that I needed all the help I could get. I was hungry for ANY lifeline when I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty about ALL OF THE PARENTING THINGS. Fortunately I had some wise, godly moms who were a season, or two or three ahead of me and shared some valuable lessons. IMG_0175 Coke Evans, a mentor in the 80’s 🙂

Here are 8 choices they taught me to make: Continue reading

3 Suggestions to Maintain Sanity in the Summertime

Dear Mamas,

I know you. I’ve been you. It’s May and you are so over school.

You are over science projects that involve late-night trips to Target, and one million school permission slips, and person of the week posters, and lost binders, and room-mother cupcakes to bake, and being the Enforcer of All things Homework.

You’re ready for Summertime when the livin’ is easy. You have dreams of vacation and weekend lemonade stands, popsicles, and your kids happily making forts in the back yard or having a marathon game of Monopoly on a stormy day. There will be barbecues and lake time, sparklers,  hopscotch and baseball games that will just magically happen like at Disney World where no one ever loses a flip flop or  their temper.FullSizeRender-14

Can I offer a few suggestions before Summer is upon us and your dreams come crashing down like the Excalliber Roller Coaster at Valley Fair? Continue reading

Re-Writing “Mother’s Day”

Mother’s Day is tricky. Can I get an “amen”?!

We all have a mother somewhere, but not every mom is accessible. Not everyone has a relationship with their mom that they feel like celebrating. Not every child is living the life you hoped for them. And not everyone who would like to be a mom IS a mom right now. Someone reading this has lost a child. Another has been adopted.

Mother’s Day is full of land mines, often triggered by the most tentative steps. Sometimes a day meant to be about love is one of longing or loss…of pain, tears, and unmet expectations. I’ve cheered you right up, eh? Continue reading

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