Category Archives: Parenting

A Shiny Example

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Havin' funIf Mom was still living, we’d be celebrating her 101st birthday about now. She didn’t make it that far, but packed a-lotta-livin’ into the 92 years she had. Her #1 life-interest was Jesus Christ, but her #2 was definitely people (and a chimp or two). My siblings and I still hear reports of her influence.

Recently, for example, I received an email from a summer neighbor, Karen, who took time to write out her youthful impressions of Mom:

I remember liking to come over to your cottage, knowing we were always welcome to drop in. Your mom made time to sit and play games with us, never minding if we got sand on her floor. And we could always use your big inner-tubes at the beach, even if you weren’t going.

Mom and more kidsYour mom took us to the State Park where we climbed [the giant dune] “Pike’s Peak” together and ran down the back side of it. On another occasion she let us “help” paint your cottage. Once I fell and was knocked unconscious, but your mom took care of me.

What I remember most, though, is that your home seemed filled with love, acceptance, fun, and joy. Your mom was the best example of God’s love shining through someone that I’ve ever known. His joy radiated from her, and I was blessed to have her in my life.

*               *               *               *               *               *               *               *

I’m still trying to learn from Mom’s example, and it’s interesting that the many “kids” in the multiple generations she impacted always mention the same things: that she had time for them and accepted them as they were.

As parents, we spend 20 years molding and shaping our children, trying to grow them into responsible adults. Sometimes we lift up standards that are so high they’re impossible to meet, and then we push, push, push, forgetting to take time to have fun with them and joyfully accept who they are. And what about taking time to do the same with other people’s children?

Shortly after I heard about Mom from Karen, I also heard from one of her other “kids”. Judi wrote:

Your mother was an angel on earth. Her unique attributes continue to be present through the legacy she passed on to her many “children”. What a privilege to have been one of them.

Between those lines I hear God’s opinion shining through. Mom pleased him by passing along the blessing she had received herself, giving God the credit for everything. She didn’t just share her games, her inner-tubes, and her time. She also shared the faith that meant more to her than anything else. But not by preaching it.

Children “caught it” not from listening to her recite Bible passages or teach Sunday school but by seeing the Lord shine out of her (as Karen wrote) by way of “love, acceptance, fun, and joy.”

Happy Birthday!Happy 101st, Mom!

“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)

Practice gets messy.

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I'm a mess.Emerald is slowly learning to feed herself, and it’s not a pretty picture. One favorite menu is peanut butter on rice cakes with a banana chaser, a combo that evolves into a goo she then uses to finger-paint a nearby window.

It’s interesting that after she’s been eating for a while, suddenly she’ll hold out her hand and make the sound of distress: “Ooo, ooo, ooo!” which translates, “Oh no! I’m messy! Wipe me off!” How she can be elbow-deep in sticky PB and slimy banana for 20 minutes before noticing is a mystery.

Wipe me...Learning something new can be sticky/slimy/gooey for all of us. For sure it’s messy as we struggle to gain expertise in an area we know nothing about. Tradition says practice makes perfect, but equally true is that practice gets messy.

For example, let’s take Nelson Mandela. After his death last Thursday, the general public heard a running narrative of his many accomplishments, but it was two personal statements he made himself that impressed me most.

 

The first dealt with the men who sentenced him to a life in prison (which lasted 27 years). Mandela said he had forgiven them completely, an impressive achievement in my book.

The second was spoken in reference to his parenting. He said that being the president of a country was a good thing, but that being a father was far more important. Only a president could say such a thing with authority.

Both of these things, forgiveness and fathering (or mothering), take oodles of practice before we get them right. In the process of learning how, we might make some impressive messes and much like Emerald, not even realize it until we’re up to our elbows.

Nelson MandelaIn Mandela’s case, he never regretted forgiving his accusers, insisting there was no benefit to revenge. Somehow he learned that difficult lesson through the pain of imprisonment. He did, however, have regrets about the fathering of his 6 children, much of it done “through a glass” in the prison visiting room.

Later he pondered aloud whether it was right or wrong to forfeit time with his own family (staying in prison longer than was required) in a commitment to help the families of others. It was a sticky issue indeed.

What’s true for all of us is that life’s most important ventures usually include a steep learning curve. Thankfully God is ready with valuable tutoring for the asking, and Scripture promises he’ll instruct us. This doesn’t mean he’ll show us how to crochet an afghan or change a tire, but he’ll definitely instruct us in all things godly, such as how to forgive, or how to parent.

Maybe someday...And if we don’t let messy failures get the best of us, we’ll make steady progress…. just like Emerald will one day know how to eat without needing a full bath afterwards.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.” (Psalm 32:8-9)

Studying the Pictures

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I love looking at photographs of Nate. Now that no more can be taken, each is priceless. When pancreatic cancer came along, a widow-friend advised me to “take lots of pictures of him.” That sounded odd, since I already had 190 photo albums in my basement.

Not himself.But there were two roadblocks to taking those pictures: (1) quickly, as the cancer gained ground, he didn’t look like himself; and (2) how do you snap pictures of someone who knows he’s dying, without making it awkward for them?

Once it was all over, I remembered what my friend had said and wished I’d followed her advice about photos, because we have precious few of his 42 days of illness. That’s why I often find myself in my basement albums studying the face of my husband.

What impresses me again and again is that in most of the pictures Nate has a child or two in his arms or on his lap. Not being a “natural” with children when we married, I’m reminded of how significant this effort was. These pictures, the ones in which he’s busy “doing” for his children (and by that, for me) are the ones that mean the most.

At Chuck E CheeseFor example, here’s one taken at Chuck E Cheese’s. The occasion was Klaus’ birthday (turning 6), and Nate is holding 3 week old Louisa, his 6th child, while trying to manage the rest of his own children and a dozen young guests. The Chuck E Cheese entertainment stage was in full swing with it’s robotic characters singing at peak volume, a frenzy at best.

Nate was working hard, and I knew he must have been hoping the event would end soon, so we could go home to normalcy. But from his place across a mob of children, he caught my eye and flashed a smile. It was one of those very private moments between a husband and wife in a very public place. And today it’s a precious treasure.

Taking care of businessAnother picture I’ve studied recently was taken on Christmas Eve. We’d lunched at Marshall Fields’ in Chicago’s Loop and were on our way back to the suburbs on the “L” train. (We only had 5 children at the time, though a nephew is also in the picture.) But once again, Nate is hard at work, watching over the precarious steps of a two and three year old about to stumble off the bottom of an escalator.

My photos are a poor substitute for the man himself, but they’re wonderful gratitude-boosters for the wife he left behind. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all that I didn’t take many pictures while he was sick. Seeing him in action (and in good health) is probably much better.

”Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.” (Philippians 1:3)