Category Archives: Parenting

Snowing in June

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Here in the Midwest the first days of June can resemble the first week in January. Fluffy “snow” fills the air as cottonwood trees release their seeds, each one a tiny parachute of new life. When that happens, I always think of Dad. One of his quiet comments about the cottonwood made a permanent mark on my 8 year old heart.

Dad wasn’t an outdoorsman. In 92 years he never suffered a sunburn, deliberately walked in the rain, or slept outside just for fun. He didn’t like yard work, but for the sake of his wife and kids, uprooted himself from the familiarity of Chicago and moved to the “countryside” of 1948 Wilmette. This committed him to mowing an acre yard, tending a fruit orchard, pruning a grape arbor and weeding a vegetable garden.

Our yard had a massive cottonwood, important because of the tire swing Dad hung from a branch 25 feet up. One good underdog push would keep the Goodyear whitewall sailing for a long while. He set a 6 foot ladder just far enough away so we could stand on the top step, leap onto the tire and fly birdlike in big swooping arcs.

One spring when the cottonwood “snow” was especially prolific (clogging screens and accumulating in drifts), neighbors complained about the pesky nature of these trees. But Dad said, “Look how generous God is. Instead of supplying one seed per tree, he gave each one 10,000.” His comment planted a significant seed in my little-girl heart: God is generous.

Not everyone, however, shares my love of the cottonwood tree. Last week a man who detested the annual “snowstorm” of his next-door-neighbor’s cottonwood was convicted in court of killing the tree. A year earlier he’d secretly bored holes down into its roots, then poured in an overdose of Round-Up weed killer. Gradually the flourishing tree had deteriorated, a mystery to its owners.

The tree-assassin figured the law would be on his side since the holes he drilled were on his own property. But the court ruled otherwise, saying the roots of the tree next door, though growing beneath his lawn, belonged to his neighbor. Had this man been blessed with a father like mine, he might not have “murdered” so lightly.

Dad, a structural engineer by profession, consistently directed our attention to the structure within God’s world. As we grew older, our appreciation for what he showed us in nature transferred from the created things to their Creator, which of course was Dad’s underlying intention. An added benefit was our catching on to the great respect he had for God as the structural Designer of it all, which also transferred to us.

Today as I felt “snowflakes” brush past my cheek, I was thankful for a God who demonstrated his charcter through the cottonwood tree and for a father who pointed past the nuisance of fluffy seeds to the generous God behind them.

“Since the creation of the world his invisible attributes, his eternal power and divine nature have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made.” (Romans 1:20)

Doing Life God’s Way

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Today I was waiting in line at a bank drive-through with the window down, listening to nearby bird songs. Since winter doesn’t leave many birds in the Midwest, hearing them each spring is a special treat. Today their music seemed quite close.

Sure enough, there was a nest just above the ATM sign perched on a tiny ledge. The mama was comfortably nestled in, although with our 88 degree temperatures, she needed have worried about cooling eggs. I snapped a picture and made a mental note to check back for babies.

After making my bank deposit and passing through the lane, I noticed a second nest, this one nestled in a tiny corner next to the bank wall. Another mama was in residence, but this time daddy was on hand, too. I stopped my car and opened the door to get a better camera angle, but he said, “I don’t think so!”

He took a swoop across the roof of my car, circling back immediately for a second pass. Neither of them appreciated my camera or me, and in an instant both daddy and mommy left their ledge and came at me again! I took the hint and drove away.

Both birds followed, looping around my car in wide circles, one of them swooping in front of my windshield as I sat at the nearby stop light. They were black with split tail feathers, and as they flew they flashed orange. Their lack of hospitality notwithstanding, I’ll be watching in coming weeks.

The bank birds reminded me of an incident with two year old Nelson. We lived two blocks from a commuter train station and walked each evening to meet Nate as he arrived. Little Nelson disliked his stroller, preferring to toddle on his own.

His strawberry blond curls bobbed as he walked, and apparently the local birds thought they’d make good nesting material. A couple of red winged blackbirds dove at his head, doing a fast flutter just above him as they plucked at his hair. I shooed them off in a panic, thinking of Alfred Hitchcock, and after that Nelson wore a hat to the train.

Fear tactics aside, nest-making and egg-defending have been programmed into these birds by God himself. Most animals automatically care for and protect their young without any schooling, doing a good job for one reason: they’re following God’s prescribed plan.

Everything works better when we do it God’s way, and that includes human parenting, too. In the Bible he’s detailed exactly what that is, listing do’s and don’ts and including stories of success (following his instructions) and failure (ignoring them). Thinking we might know a better way is laughable at best, catastrophic at worst.

Even now, as the mother of adult children, I want to do it God’s way rather than my own. I’m feathering my nest with slate tile and polyurethane sealant rather than strands of strawberry blond hair, but there’s still a mother-role to play.

My nest is usually empty these days, and I’m not chasing predators away, but as God shows me how, I want to do my best.

“Love never gives up.” (1 Corinthians 13:7a)

 

A Perfect 10

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A month ago 10 servant-hearted men from our missions-oriented church traveled to Kenya, Africa, to do good for a young woman and the 78 children she’s raising. Reah is an unusual 23 year old who cheerfully manages two children’s homes with minimum staff and maximum joy. (2/18/11 blog, A Shining Star)

Ten men journeyed to the other side of the globe with eagerness to help. Because of their busy, complicated lives, it might seem impossible for these “worker bees” to free their schedules for such a trip. Yet they did, representing 7 decades among them: guys in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, a remarkable group.

Although some people say traveling is in their blood, most of us like their own beds, familiar routines and recognizable foods. Not these guys. They plowed into their trip with gusto and two purposes: to facilitate a fresh water supply for the children and to construct a small home for Reah.

Because clean water is hard to find in Africa, she was having to buy it with precious dollars needed for education, medicine and food. And with a place to live right on the property, Reah would be always available to the children.

She sets the tone for her big family with a positive attitude and strong work ethic, expecting the best from each one. Then, as they deliver it, she’s pleased not just to get the work done but in knowing their good behavior brings them personal satisfaction, too.

Isn’t this the way God’s economy works? He asks us to give to others; then as we give, those others end up giving back to us, and simultaneously God gives to the whole crowd.

It took 10 men 10 days to get the two jobs done, though they also found time to build a playground. Kids who’d never pumped a swing or climbed a jungle gym found this to be total entertainment. Once the playground had been completed, the swings never stopped.

Back at home our mission-trippers reported on their African adventure, and we saw how they’d been blessed even more than those they’d traveled to bless. We heard stories of kids who pitched in to prepare food, wash clothes, clean up and do whatever was needed, without complaint. They told us of older children rushing to help the younger, and even when all of them hoped for a turn on a swing, none pushed or whined to get one.

As we viewed the slide show of our 10 men’s 10 days, adult smiles and happy children dominated every frame, whether they were working or playing. Fresh water was facilitated, a house was constructed, a playground was built, and God poured blessing over the whole bunch.

You might say it was a Perfect 10.

“God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.” (Hebrews 6:10)