I learned it by watching you

I wake up to the sound of singing, LOUD singing, and talking, and lots of questions, "Can I come downstairs yet?  I'm hungry.  Can I get breakfast?  I have to go potty."  And then clomp, clomp, clomp, a herd of elephants disguised as a 6-year-old boy appears and springs into the bed and I burrow farther under the covers and try to catch the tail of that dreams that's dissolving....

"M--OOO--MM!  Wanna hear me sing a song?" and there's no time to reply before the serenade begins and I'm groggily tumbling out of bed to start the day.  I alternately wish that I could be as sunny in the morning as my boy or that he would just be quiet for a minute.

My mirror image slumps down the stairs, a vision of tangled hair and grumpy disposition.  This girl has been dragged unwillingly from sleep like me.  We acknowledge each other with a glance or sometimes a hug, but know better than to speak.  It doesn't take long for our mood to spread however, and there are fights about who is sitting where and breakfast choices and cleaning up.  Hardly a morning goes by without someone being sent upstairs in time out (yelling defiantly or crying) while I grumble under my breath.

On this morning, I went up to prod them into making their beds and was greeted by the growl of an angry bear where my boy once stood.  As the litany began of how mean I am and how he was NOT going to do what I wanted him to do, I returned his anger with my own growls that escalated with his.  We were both boiling and the loop running through my head was "How did we end up with such stubborn, difficult, argumentative children?"  (ahem)

Through the yelling, a wail arose, and I went into Maryn's room to see what was the matter.  I impatiently asked what was wrong and she sobbed,

"I don't know."

"Well, are you hurt?"
 
"No"

"Then WHY are you CRYING?"

"I don't KNOOOOWWW!" as she hiccuped and coughed and choked in her uncontrollable manner, and I couldn't help but notice how she falls apart like me.

So I scooped her up and asked more calmly, "Was it because I yelled?" and she answered, "Yes", and burrowed into me.  So we sank down together in her big chair with her curled up in my arms as in her baby days.  Breathing together, we both began to calm down, and I marveled that this girl of fire and passion, the one we call "saucy", the one that can fight with her temper, her words, and her hands, still has the tenderness to be broken by a raised voice.  This one, who had broken my heart the previous night at bedtime, after another rough behavioral patch, when I, in weakness, asked if they loved me.  Brady refused to answer, but she said in the cool tone of a preteen, "Well I'll whisper it...we don't".
This girl is still (deep down) all heart and trust...until they are broken.

I apologized and held her close, and she nodded in acceptance and stayed in my embrace.  Brady Bear emerged from his cave to see what was up and was drawn to us and eventually climbed up to cuddle as well.  I couldn't help thinking back to that public service announcement from the 80s (thanks YouTube) where a dad angrily confronts his son (over drugs) and says, "How did you learn how to do this stuff?!" and the son replies, "You, alright?!  I learned it by watching you!"  Now fortunately, my kids won't pick up a drug problem from me (unless they finally drive me to drugs), but they are picking up on my attitudes, my moods, and my angry responses.  When I question where they get their smart attitude or that eye roll that is not becoming on anyone (much less a 4-year-old), I don't have far to look for the answer.  When I wonder how they could be so heartless as to hurt my feelings, I realize that I have been doing the same to them.

Oh, how hard it is to see myself reflected in their small faces and BIG FEELINGS.  How sad to realize the hurts I've caused and the behaviors I've modeled.  But how wonderful the grace, to be wrapped in hugs and forgiven and accepted.  What a gift to have them run to me again when I come home to show me pictures and share stories from the day.  What trust to have them crawl up into my lap again for love and reassurance and blessing.

This is love.  Not that we share it perfectly but that we share it with all we have, the good, the bad, the ugly, the real.  Love sometimes hurts, but it always heals.  May I continue learning about love from my kids as I aim to model God's love to them.

What is saving your life right now?

Barbara Brown Taylor, one of my favorite authors, was once asked the question, "What is saving your life right now?"  Sarah Bessey, one of my favorite bloggers, rose to the challenge and answered the question, and I feel I must as well.  Far too many days I get caught up in the struggle of getting by; the work of laundry and of listening, floods of emails and planning and reports, the sounds of fighting (and the act of separating) children, of cleaning up and preparing for another round of the same tomorrow.  Sometimes it seems too much and I just retreat into my shell.  My words are as short as my patience and I cut myself off from the world for a while.  My introverted nature becomes a crutch that protects me, an excuse to shelter me from the world.

And then...

I meet my pastor (and friend) for lunch and we catch up on family, and ministry and life.

I catch up with friends and colleagues at a staff reception after a long, quiet summer of isolated, disconnected work.

I snuggle in bed with my daughter to read her a book, and watch my son and husband doing the same thing.

I anticipate a date night after a LOOOONNNGG absence of babysitters (thank you, VBS, for the free childcare).

I read an email from a friend that is going through a similar inward journey.

And suddenly, I remember I am not alone, I am not just an individual, but I am a part of a community.  I am connected, I am supported, I am accepted, and I am loved.  And I have the same gifts of connection, support, acceptance, and love to offer to others.

What is saving my life right now is the reminder that I don't have to make it alone; instead, God has created us all to be family to one another.  May God bless the beautiful family we are creating--the family of God-- and help us to be a blessing to others.

A little help from my friends

I have these wooden dolls in my office, and yes, they look just a tiny bit creepy (or odd, or silly).  But I was at a women in ministry event, "Feast", with some of my favorite and most inspirational people, and one of our responses to the worship was to select a wooden figure and decorate it with the scraps and assorted crafting paraphernalia on the table.  I worked without thinking for moments, taking in the messages being preached by other women and absorbing the creative energy of so many fantastic women in one space.  It was a time to rest and refuel my soul after giving and speaking and leading and ministering.  When I looked down at my creation, I realized that I had fashioned a preaching robe of sorts around my woman, and adorned it with a green stole (for growth, and symbolic of Ordinary Time, the place in which I find myself).  While being surrounded by the feminine, I couldn't stop myself from grabbing a smaller version to represent my daughter.  She has stars for eyes (appropriate), and her favorite color (purple) in the form of a scarf.  My little princess has a lacy skirt (as she is all girl), and accessorizes with a blue feather.  This girl has spirit, and energy, and style.  And apparently a strong influence, as I decided to add a feather to my own doll in a nod to her creative spirit.

How my girl encourages me to grow and to stretch...much like my fellow ministers at the Feast.  We come with one spirit and many gifts to serve, to support, and to uplift.  I realize in the company of others that as much as my actions try to deny it, I just can't make it on my own.  It's only in community that I can find myself and that I can grow into who God is calling me to be.

Maryn recently visited me at work, and I wasn't surprised when she gravitated towards the dolls on my shelf.  She, after all, turns anything (cars, trains, pencils) into "babies" which she gently mothers.  The Mommy and Maryn dolls started having adventures under the leading of her tiny and gentle hands, much like in real life.

Thank you, God, for the gift of family, both those we birth and are birthed into, and those we meet  and "adopt" along the way, that guide us into your loving community, the kingdom of God.