Month: April 2024

Thoughts on Parenting

I’ve been thinking about parenting.  

This weekend I asked one of the kids to do a chore. They were in a really bad mood and feeling overwhelmed with things they needed to do and so they told me, bluntly, that they were not going to do the chore. I was shocked. My kids do not say no to me. Not because I’m a harsh disciplinarian, but simply because we established when they were little that if your parents ask you to do a task, you do it. I pointed out to them that if they did not do it, it meant that someone else in the family was going to have to pick up their work. They did not budge. I walked away. 

I was really angry. But also confused as this is a good kid who is always willing to do their part and usually doesn’t even grumble about their chores. 

Now, in the past, the way I dealt with this was more lecturing, arguing, and then taking away some kind of privilege, like a phone, device, or screen time. The end result being that the task still didn’t get done and now my kid was just as angry as I was. Or maybe they did the task while screaming and fussing the entire time and then we all stayed mad for several days. 

But this time I took myself away from the situation. Talked to my husband. We both agreed this was unusual behavior. And I acknowledged that I could understand why they were feeling overwhelmed with the other tasks they had to do as well.  In the end I did nothing. My husband did the chore and my younger daughter helped him. My child finally calmed down from their bad mood and entered into some conversation with me. 

Now, I am still miffed that they said no. I plan to have further conversations where I can explain that I am always willing to listen to them if they’re unable to do something I’ve asked them to do, but we need to have a conversation about it that stays respectful.  If they had stopped and said, Mom, I’ve got a school project that I’m really stressed about and I have all these things I have to do to get ready for Monday, can someone else do the chore? Then we could have had a conversation about it and that would be a respectful way to handle it. And for my part, I need to be willing to take things into consideration when my child respectfully asks for a reprieve.  

In the past I would have been very concerned about my child disrespecting me and not being obedient and I would have responded harshly.  Now, by God’s grace, I’m a lot more concerned with how my child is doing, as a person. If they are acting out in some way, I want to know why, and what can we do to fix it? Maybe they are being selfish. Maybe they are being disrespectful. Maybe they are tired or overwhelmed. If it’s selfishness, let’s try to help them see other people and their needs and not just themselves and their own needs. If they’re being disrespectful, let’s talk about respect for adults, parents, other humans, and set firm boundaries in these areas. If they are tired, let’s teach them how to recognize that in themselves and learn the habit of getting alone and resting, instead of sticking around to argue over every little thing. If they’re overwhelmed, let’s teach them how to recognize that for what it is, and then get some help from a parent or someone else who can help them get caught up or organize their time. 

I remember when I first started parenting, all the books and classes on parenting that were so popular. And they all hammered into you exactly what a good parent was supposed to do. And if your child did not sleep through the night at 2 months old, did not practice first time obedience, threw tantrums in public, etc, then that meant that you were a failure as a parent. And I really absorbed that. When my kids misbehaved, it meant that I was failing. And that put a lot of pressure on me which I then transferred to my kids. Not a great atmosphere.

A million failures later, I think I’ve mostly learned to let go of that idea that I have to be a perfect parent and that my children’s behavior is a reflection of my worth. I am trying to see my kids as the little humans that they are, who are just as sinful and ornery as I am and need just as much grace and compassion as I do. And who need as much constant help, direction, and encouragement as I do. I still fail regularly, but I think my house is a lot more peaceful and my kids a lot less stressed than when I first started on this parenting journey.

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Happy at Home

Today is a beautiful day in East Tennessee. The sun is shining brightly, there is a nice breeze, the temps are cool, but not too cold to sit outside. All the trees have grown their new leaves for the year and everything feels bright and fresh. 

I’ve been thinking about my future goals for the next several months. What I want to work towards, things I want to see happen, things I want to see my kids accomplish. 

Things like, start exercising regularly again, keep practicing piano, keep teaching. Help my husband with his business. Have people over to my house often. Keep being a mom and wife. Keep writing. Nothing big and mind blowing. Just a collection of little things that make up my life.

What is making me happy right now is the fact that I can live this simple life and it’s enough.

Romans 12:4-8 says, 

For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith;  if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach;  if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

I love that when you ask Jesus to forgive your sins and make a choice to follow him, you become part of a family. I love being in church and looking around at everyone and knowing that these are my brothers and sisters and together we are the body of Christ. What I also love is that we all have different roles to play. I love that I can be a stay-at-home mom and know that I am doing my part in the kingdom of God. 

Sometimes I look at my lfe and it feels like I must not be doing enough. Surely I should be striving towards more lofty goals. The world tells me that if I don’t have titles after my name, if I am not out in the thick of things, making money or saving the planet, I’m really not doing anything. I need to get myself out there and start making a difference! 

But the truth of the matter is, by having my life centered in my home, I am serving God. When I spend my day cooking and cleaning, I am serving the body of Christ. When I arrange my schedule so that I have time and energy to have people in my home, I am sharing the love of Christ.  When I putter around and think about things and then take time to write down what I’m thinking about and share it with others, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing and fulfilling God’s purpose for me. 

I love that being part of the body does not mean I have to strive to become someone that the world would say is noteworthy. But instead I can just be myself, using the gifts and talents that God has given me in the circle of influence that he has placed me in. And it’s enough. 

Not everyone is called to be a stay at home mom, obviously. And we all play different roles in the family of God. I feel very strongly about social justice issues and sometimes wish that I could be out on the frontlines meeting the physical needs of the low and downtrodden.  And the Bible says that taking care of the widows and orphans is what true religion is about. But, I’ve learned over the years that I can help people from the position that I’ve been placed in, in my home. I can take in homeless people, foster kids, teenagers who need a couch to sleep on. I can feed the hungry who knock on my door. I can provide the safe place for latchkey kids to come and play. And I don’t even have to leave my neighborhood. I just have to get up every morning with my hands open, in a posture of willingness. And as my day meanders along, I know that God will use me however he sees fit for that day. 

As I have come to know myself better over the years and understand my passions and longings better, I have realized more and more that God put me in the exact perfect place where I could be myself and use my talents and gifts most fully. As a teenager I never even thought about being a stay-at-home mom. But my Creator who made me knew better and today I feel joyful and peaceful as I serve Him and the Body of Christ from the wonderful place of my home. 

LARGE PROBLEMS vs Living Hope

The past couple months my husband and I have run into several rather LARGE PROBLEMS. And they have all seemed to follow the same pattern. LARGE PROBLEM makes itself known. Stress. Panic. Prayer. And then a possible solution appears. The solution is humongous. It would take God for this to happen. But there’s actually a small chance that it could happen. Soon. In the near future. And so we wait. This time with some hope. Then here comes the next LARGE PROBLEM and we go into the same pattern. Possible solution shows up. It’s going to take God for that to actually happen. But it could. Hope shows up again. And we wait. Next LARGE PROBLEM…etc. Right now I am waiting for three miraculous things to happen. None of the problems are solved yet. But there’s hope. They could get solved soon, in the very near future. And I continue to pray, throughout the day as I think about it, please Lord, let these solutions happen. 

It’s kind of a weird place to be. But I realized as I was thinking about it recently, that those possible solutions that may or may not happen did something for me. They took me out of a place of despair and put me back in a place of hope. And now that hope has come back, I am able to realize that even if none of those solutions happen, God will still take care of us and help us find a different way. 

Our church is doing a sermon series on 1 Peter, and yesterday we tackled 1 Peter 1:1-12. The part that stood out to me was the part about hope. 

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 1 Peter 1: 3-5

As a Christian we live in a kind of waiting period. We have an inheritance that we will one day finally realize, but for now we wait. But at the same time, we are living out our inheritance here on earth. Ephesians 1:13b-14 says:

When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.

Not only do we have an inheritance that we will realize when we die or when Jesus returns, but here on earth we have the Holy Spirit inside of us, teaching us, comforting us, leading us on this journey that we are on. 

I am now forty-five years old. I have four children who are eighteen and older. I have to admit, I’ve been feeling a bit old. (Yes, it’s relative! Everyone older than me thinks I’m still a young’un. ) But, I’ve been feeling older. While our culture tells you that not being young is the worse thing that can happen to you, I am finding that I don’t agree. I’ve now had forty-five years to see the faithfulness of God. And the more miracles you see, the more confident you become. I can tell you with all assurance that I live a life full of hope in God. 

It’s a living hope. Not “good vibes”. Not karma. Not faith in humanity. Not luck. It’s acknowledging that there is a God and he sent his son Jesus to take the punishment for our sins so that we could be right with him and be in relationship with him. It’s knowing that the Holy Spirit, part of the Three-In-One God, lives inside of me. It’s knowing that any trials that come my way will work towards shaping me to become more like Jesus. It’s knowing that my past and future are in his hands and if God is for me, who can be against me? It’s knowing that if I die today, I will be with Jesus in heaven, and I know that he will take care of my loved ones, even if I am no longer there to do so. It’s knowing that the LARGE PROBLEMS that come my way will not change my standing with God and will not take away my peace. And when it seems like the only answer is going to have to come in the shape of a miracle, I can nod and say, Ok, I know God does miracles, so I will wait and see how he decides to work in this situation. 

I don’t like LARGE PROBLEMS. They are uncomfortable. But they do a really good job of reminding me about hope and who my hope is in. And so I wait, not knowing how this will all play out, but confident that God has his hand on me and any LARGE PROBLEM that comes my way. 

Ramen Noodles

It’s funny how certain foods are like portals to the past. As soon as you take a bite you are immediately back in an old memory. Ramen noodles do this for me. I don’t eat Ramen very much. I’m aware it’s not the healthiest option on the planet. But, occasionally, I will get Ramen for the kids (they rarely get it, and for some odd reason, have decided it’s a treat). I ate a packet for lunch today and as soon as I smelled the rich broth, I was floating back in time.

Fifth grade. Morehead, Kentucky. 

I think this was the first year our family stumbled on this amazing food. By this time my brother and I were latchkey kids. Our parents were working, and my mom was finishing up her last year of school to be a Physican’s Assistant. A save-a-lot had moved into town and my mom would stock up on freezer meals and fast foods that my brother and I could prepare for ourselves. 

Every day after school I would walk into the trailer, put the old copper kettle on. I’d pull out one of our orange bowls that had a white lining, bowls that had followed our family everywhere we lived,  and I would make myself a bowl of ramen noodles. 

I was always starving after school. Fifth grade was the year I stopped eating lunch at school. When we first moved to this school, I was in second grade and my brother was in fourth. My parents would send school lunch money with my brother and he would pay for both of us. We ate school lunches for about two years, but we didn’t really enjoy them. They served a lot of Southern American food that we just weren’t used to. Pinto beans and cornbread, corndogs (what was this thing?? I always pulled the corn breading off and ate the hotdog), really cheap hamburgers that had some kind of weird slime on them, mashed potatoes that were so runny it was almost more like a porridge. (There was one meal that I actually liked, beef vegetable soup and a bread roll.) 

When I was in fourth grade, we moved away for one year while my mom did an intensive year of study at the University of Kentucky in Lexington, then we moved back to Morehead. I was now alone at my school, my brother had moved on to middle school, and I had no idea how to navigate school lunches. Who did you pay? When did you pay? How much? It just seemed like an overwhelming problem, overwhelming because everyone else already knew what to do, and here I was, in 5th grade, clueless. 

Just an aside. This has long been a problem for me. My mother is British and grew up overseas, my father is American but he grew up overseas. I did not move back to the states till I was almost seven. And we moved to Eastern Kentucky that has its own unique culture going on. I spent a lot of my childhood not knowing what everyone else already knew. I would try to be very observant, see what everyone else was doing and copy them. Or just retreat. Or pretend like that was just not something I wanted to do, cause I had no idea how to go about doing it. Sometimes I would brave being made fun of and just ask, but other times, it seemed like too much energy to try and figure things out. And for school lunches, It was just easier to not buy any. 

So, I told my mom I would take a lunch. And then, I just didn’t. I didn’t like packing lunches. In fourth grade I got teased quite a bit because I would pack a lunch and bring food that was not “normal” like a whole tomato that I would eat like an apple, or a piece of bologna, and piece of bread, packed separately, cause that’s how I liked them. Somewhere along the way I just decided school lunches were not worth the hassle. So, I would sit at a table and wait a couple minutes until I could just line up with the other kids and wait to leave the cafeteria. I always had a book to read, so I wasn’t bored. 

Then I would get home, starving and eat Ramen noodles. And cereal. And whatever else was laying around the house. 

I’m not sure what kind of memory that is. But, I’m thankful for those hot hearty noodles that made me feel full and satisfied after a long day at school.