Parenting

My mom called yesterday and asked how the kids are doing. I rattled off my pre-teen's five latest stunts, rambled about how sweet the others are and stopped for breath. She sighed and commented that it's rather bittersweet how each child seems to pull us close and push us away at different times and you're always seeming to feel closest to a different child. I love that she had four kids and can really relate to so many things with me. Then she said a bunch of nonsense about how proud she is of my wise handling of everything. I was like a deer in the headlights. I mean Mom knows me. She knows google is my guide. She knows I have to have people explain every single social decorum to me three different ways before I actually get it.  I think, when I look around that parenting seems to be this beautiful natural evolution for other people. Somehow they have intuitions, instincts, experiences and knowledge to guide them. In recent years, this used to intimidate me which would in turn bring out my ugly side. The catty judgmental side. But that's exhausting. So after I got really tired from all of the judging, and excuse making for my ineptitude I realized I was humbled. Being humbled is something God has made a hobby of gifting me with. I know he sees something great in me or else why bother right? Wink wink! Anyway, as I've stumbled through every stage of parenting, always seeming to google the least important facets of the stage I'm in, I finally developed a new way of surviving. Yes, I literally google the sentence my kids say that leaves me curled in the fetal position and find out what "experts" think I should do. I spill it to my trusted friends and find out what they would do. Then I just kinda go limp and let it all wash over me while I scroll up and down my meaningless Facebook newsfeed because it's my guilty pleasure. I mean, that's the profoundly unprofound thing I've learned. Reacting is stressful. I feel like I'm playing the part of a mother in a movie nowadays. My oldest doesn't know what to do with me. She's spent 12 years perfecting the art of getting Mom's goat and now I just hopefully appear incredibly bored and distracted offering nothing more than a benign smile while my mind feverishly races around for a steam valve. I think of the people who come by this naturally and gaze into their child's defiant face with measured calm who maybe really are that calm inside and yes I'm jealous. Playing a part is not the same thing. The other half isn't a part. I try to savor the beautiful moments with her and bless her with approval and acceptance.  She has decided not to believe in God. Every single time she drops that bomb I feel my stomach lurch. Faith is something she has overanalyzed her whole childhood and it used to worry me so bad.  Even now as I write about it my mind is like a rat in a maze trying to figure out whether she says it to manipulate, as a desperate plea for attention or because she's truly conflicted. But deep down I know that I can only love her and let her take this journey. I think I stopped worrying per se about it sometime after Dad died and I stepped into Jesus love. That was when I realized my whole life of professing faith and belief had really been just a time of seed planting. I hadn't known Him. I didn't deny him like she is but I misunderstood faith for sure. I remember being out for a walk with a friend when I was pregnant with Hazel and casually stating that I wasn't sure I was saved. She was floored and told me once you're saved, you're always saved. I laughed her off and told her I'd been baptized twice and spent a life floating closer and further from God and wouldn't blame Him for sending me to hell at some of those points. I hadn't really known Him. Well, now I really do and I can't imagine one of my children spending their whole lives never knowing Him and if declaring an independence of Him is what someone needs to do for her journey, her story, her peace, then who am I to shame that or argue it? Additionally, if a 12 year old is guided primarily by emotions, what is the real purpose in trying to control her spiritual course? The gifts and callings of God are without repentance. My mom spoke that over me for 34 years before I had a real experience of what it meant to be His child. I think I can give my kids that much. It's funny how you can have all of your own stuff going on with people you know, unforgiveness, anger, judgement etc... then look at your child and tell them not to. I had to let go of one of my closest friendships this year. It felt like I cut my arm off. I still think about it and wish I had done things better, been a better friend, been kinder, been gentler, more intuitive, lived grace vibrantly. But deep down, I have to accept my journey. Know that I'm not there. I'm fragile. I'm not complete. I believe that God will be faithful to complete a good work in me. I believe that he will do the same for my kids. And I believe that He will give me the self control to avoid inhibiting their journeys. I try to pray for each of them several times per day and trust God with the process.

Now what did Jesus say again?

I've always been the hammer. Hammer that truth in til it hurts and then cut them off at the knees and wonder why they are just screaming bloody murder instead of saying "you're right, I get it, I'm a completely changed person forever thank you for opening my eyes". Um... yeah. So while some of us literally revel in the glory of truth others revel in the freedom of interpretation. Awkward! So then Dad would say "you know you'll catch more bees with honey than vinegar Boogle." And I would say "sometimes the truth hurts." And he would say "I've been at this a little longer than you and you have to ask yourself what result you want, not focus just on being right." Then I would say "I don't have patience for that kind of approach." And he would chuckle. And it didn't bug me because he's my dad and naturally he knew what he was talking about even if I wasn't interested in accountability at that moment. Time to talk to Dad stretched on my horizon as far as I could see. How quickly things change. After losing Dad all of the fight just drained out of me in a puddle. And I asked myself who was Dad? The answer was the sound of a beautiful Irish Ballad or the sight of a beaming proud smile or the aroma of sweat and hay or the taste of sweet honey or the touch of rough perfect hands. The thought of who he was blesses me. And I asked myself what will I leave and I found myself reaching for more. I've rarely ever reached a persons heart with truth even though I know it well and it came so naturally to him. I'm on a new mission to find that tenuous balance between defending scriptrual truth and being guided by empathy and love; specifically to Christians who struggle with embracing the whole message of The Word. I think pride is my primary foe. If I long to make myself look good or right or smart or better or the best or PERFECT I've already lost. I've done that and it makes me look... pompous and arrogant and full of myself and a lot more like someone else than Jesus. I used to drive around and around a hayfield daydreaming of my dad allowing me to use a walkman so I could listen to Sarah McLachlan which would be a huge hazard and never allowed. Ironically he did compromise on my daisy dukes and tank tops and flip flops. Now I wish I'd used that calm productive vacuum of time to reflect on the beauty of first loving someone then sharing truth after they are secure in that love. What a gift that would be, to naturally style my life after Jesus and to do His will with a pure heart. I was reading about how to help a narcissist feel empathy. Apparently it's a real clinical disorder. through that article I gained empathy for narcissists. It was a crazy five minutes. I thought about everyone I've ever debated and what it would be like to reach a point of empathy with a struggling sister or brother in Christ before I ever utter a word of debate. To actually try to understand them. I wonder if I could ever go deeper than rhetoric like "well I know gay people and I like them" all the way to a heart message which might be "I have a deep fear of rejection from my very wonderful gay friend if I accept the Bible at it's word and try to live by it." That's transcending a roadblock and understanding fear. Then we might talk about the incredible personal spiritual significance for a Christian in living by the Word of God without imposing expectations from it on those of different beliefs. Then we could even talk about how important it is to be able to trust your gay friend, your agnostic friend, your atheist friend, your liberal friend, your Muslim friend to love you even if you believe in the Bible, just as you are called to love them exactly as they are. I see real peace in this for every Christian to truly live unconditional love with truth. We could probably even reach to the uncomfortable point of discussing the fact that gay marriage infringes on religious freedom because marriage is a religious practice performed by clergy and should never be dictated by government in compliance with separation of church and state.  Then we would have to come to a point of completion by discussing how lawmakers could go about protecting both interests because we all know that one group of people and their rights should not rank higher than another. Does that make sense? I used to want to bang people over the head with the truth and tell them to stop messing up Christianity and making us look like wimps but I was... well crap... I was WRONG and I got nowhere. 

On an extreme end of the love/truth spectrum, my friend debates her extended family's mormon faith regularly. She researches facts and squares off ready for battle. The fact is she found her way out of that heresy and I think it drives her crazy that any of them still hang on to it.  Recently she told me she's been left a copy of the book of mormon with notes for her read to help clear up her doubts and restore her to the mormon faith. She asked me the other day should she read the notes, should she set for another round and put on her religious boxing gloves? After all my years of churning my wheels trying to proudly say something just clever enough to throw someone off their high horse, I just weakly say no. It goes against all of my old habits. I am reluctantly coming to the conclusion if you get drawn into a debate on the semantics of another persons faith you have already lost. You are on the defense. It doesn't matter if you gather up verses and facts and knock them down to a count of three over and over, if you never reach their heart. It's as pointless as eating paper. It's a clanging gong. I know. I do it all of the time. Any victory you claim will not be the victory you wanted. I do know you can reach the heart of the mormon debater through prayer and patience and timing and love, lots of love. Ugh, sooo hard! But I'm inspired to think we can simply look to the amazing Jesus we so fortunately know. If we focus on an end goal of setting a heart free to be loved by Jesus wholly and completely unconditionally we will persevere. I really believe with a pure heart we will not err. Then we are wind chimes or a flute. Because Jesus didn't really seek indifferent people. He sought hungry people and his love was palpable. When he spoke, he lifted the heart, healed the body, nourished the person and he set them FREE. So I encourage my friend to love her Mormons for now and wait for them to get thirsty for Living Water.

Another friend has funny stuff happen. Her life is an amusing education to me. She lives in Jerusalem and hangs out with a bunch of ex-pats who are mostly Palestinian sympathizers and even has a Bible Study with several of them. So she has people try to lead her into convoluted debates which is torture for her. She hates to debate.  I think she has an advantage just being someone who dislikes conflict. I think it gives her the restraint to wait for the thing worth saying and I really admire how she channels Jesus and shows grace. She has plugged away for two years, sometimes gritting her teeth and sometimes wanting to lay in the floor and laugh hysterically for a release from the vise grip of conflict and verbal sparring. All this time she patiently sowed seeds of truth into each person who came into her life and asked God if this was the one she was to reach possibly even for the kingdom of Christ. I know there were two non-Christians she really hoped to reach. One time she even took some of her Bible Study friends to the Temple Mount Institute to see all of the things the Jewish people are making for when they rebuild the Temple and one lady asked four times why the Jewish people want a temple again since Jesus came.  She took each interaction seriously and one day she called me undecided on whether to reply to an email sent from a Palestinian sympathizer filled with biased propaganda. I think it's just crazy so I told her I'd just walk away. Why cast your pearls before swine? Right? From my limited vantage point it appears that she is dealing with hard hearted uninformed people opposed to Israel which is not even Biblical. Regardless of whether they are Christians, they appear to be missing out on a pretty fundamental piece of truth that could give their lives in Israel context and dimension. And it seems to me they are very deliberate in maintaining that doctrine. And that is where I err. I am so human indeed. After all her time there and confounding stories, I found her position so daunting I told her it sounded pointless. And then today... she told me that in the time she has been there... she's seen a softening a changing of heart in one of her Bible Study ladies and it was all confirmed just today. Yes she got to watch some scales fall off of a pair of eyes and it was EXCITING! She was already a Christian but all that time, regardless of what was perceived she was sifting through and searching for new truths. And that woman was the one I so scorned for asking why the Jews want to rebuild the temple. I felt so chastened. My friend said she felt blessed to know her time there had some spiritual impact for one person. She was used by God to open a window for someone to see more of Jesus and God's plan. Soon she will fly home from her grand adventure but she has patiently sown seeds of love and truth. I can see already that some has fallen on fertile ground. Honestly, that is all I aspire to be.

You never really have "arrived"

My faith is not that of Peter's, nor even Thomas probably. Sometimes it is firm, sometimes it is weak and sometimes I am wandering in blackness repeating the truth to myself over and over wondering when the peace and faith will find me and restore the light. About a week ago, the blackness had it's grip and Satan who knows my deepest fears began to hammer away at me. He never stopped for a minute. At night as I would try to fall asleep, my heart would accelerate with fear and it held me like vise. I asked some friends to pray for me and I know they did. I know because, although I'm no sage, I do know a faithful prayer warrior. I suppose now, I could have asked for more people to pray me out of my dark place, but it felt like a mini-crisis that surely three faithful prayer warriors could extract me from. I felt better for a couple of days, then plunged again, repeated truth to myself, read the Word and waited for it to pass. I sold some furniture which boosted me but the niggle remained and the hair on the back of my neck was still on end.
Today, I got what I think is my breakthrough. I think. And although the miracles in my life are probably not worth writing to Guidepost over due to their almost normal appearance, they are worth writing to God over. I thank Him. He is always with me, and he does direct the feet of his faithful. I had some people coming to see a table and chairs in my kitchen and when I opened the door a beautiful Indian woman with a belly a tad bigger than mine stood there with her husband. I invited them in and felt happy. He explained to her why the table might not be the greatest for their space and she mentioned that she still really loved it, so he acquiesced. It was cute and very loving. I asked Jody to come in and help him take it apart, while asking them if they were from India. She said yes they were and I told them I'd had the joy of being a doula for an Indian couple and had been amazed at all of the cultural differences. She smiled and said, "oh, were they Hindu?" I said yes, and she agreed that they were very different. I was intrigued and asked her whether they were Hindu and she said "no, we're Christian." Jody came in and glanced at the husband and said "oh, you have thyroid cancer too!" I hadn't even noticed his scar but it was right there, just like Jody's. He'd had two surgeries, the last one had been two years ago, just like Jody. His vocal chord had been compromised like Jody's. His wife mentioned getting nervous about the checkup every six months and so here stood someone so like us, I couldn't quite believe it. She then mentioned that they had waited 9 months after his radioactive iodine treatment to conceive and that her husband wanted to have four or five kids. The strangest thing was, they were standing there in person addressing every fear that Satan planted in me. I was afraid the baby could have been affected by Jody's radioactive iodine treatment. Answered. I was afraid Jody's cancer could come back, answered by a little family who are fearlessly planning their life in spite of the same exact cancer. And finally, they paid me for the table, money being my other gripping fear right now with a baby on the way. This is all one month before Jody's July checkup and ultrasound. So, my wavering faith is again held by the steps of a righteous family living by faith right before my eyes. It's a comfort.