ReImagine the Holidays

 "Blessed are we who work without seeing the end,

who plant seeds and trust God with the growing.

Blessed are we who find freedom in the unfinished,

and peace in the stubborn promise of hope." Kate Bowler

In the last year, our family experienced 3 deaths between Thanksgiving and Easter.

In that same time period, we moved SD's dad into a hospice facility as his dementia and health had rapidly declined.

Last year the holidays were a survival mode.

This year as we approached the holidays we had to figure out what this new normal looks like.

Our first Thanksgiving together in 1998 we attended 6 Thanksgiving events. In two days.

Over the years we've shifted what "tradition" looks like and I'll be honest, the tradition is that we don't spend Thanksgiving all together.

Let's be honest, lots of people is not everyone's cup of tea. And we don't leave every family function feeling warm and cozy vibes.

We've learned over the years that even just the 5 of us do better with outdoors or an activity than a stressful meal around the table.

This year I knew we needed a change.

We decided as a family to reimagine Thanksgiving.

We skipped the traditional Thanksgiving all together.

And it was everything our family needed this year.

I want to gift our kids a holiday season that does not feel like a burden.

I want them to never feel like a Thursday in November at 1 to eat this specific thing is what is expected of them.

I want them to have the freedom to balance all the "musts" of the holiday season.

We booked 4 days in a cabin in Helen.

We gave our kids the dates and told them they were welcome anytime just to let us know when/if they planned on coming so we could prepare for meals and activities.

Thanksgiving Day SD, Peanut and I watched the Thanksgiving parade in our pjs. We ate a leisurely pancake breakfast. We went for a wonderful walk. We *might* have eaten a very large pretzel for lunch. We grilled out hamburgers. We lounged in the hot tub. We laughed at our crazy dog.

On Friday our big kids joined us for the day. We rode the Mountain coaster (and by we, I mean them), shopped in town, attended the lighting of the Village, and lingered over a meal with live music.

Thanksgiving. Reimagined.

Mama Warriors, as many of us shift into this new season of parenthood with adults who have work schedules, friend/relationship commitments, their own visions of holidays, I encourage you not to be afraid to reimagine.

To make space for the idea that maybe time together is enough and it can look different. It can be on a different day.

The holidays are a SEASON.

Not just two days in November and December.

Maybe you ask your people what portions of the holidays are their favorite and you get that on your calendar and you let go of the expectations that holidays will look the same year to year.

Maybe reimaging becomes the new normal.

Maybe pretzels are the new Thanksgiving food.

Zoom Out

 “I know you know this, but I want to repeat that when someone(s) treats you poorly, it is a reflection of him or herself and the misery within the heart of them. It doesn’t help a bit to hear that when you’re young, but later it will.”― Virginia Evans, The Correspondent

This morning I finished listening to The Correspondent on audio book. It's a lovely book and definitely recommend it on audio versus print (which is an odd preference for me).

The book is a collection of letters between the main character and all the people in her life. Her life story unfolds in this montage of letters, and occasionally emails as technology evolves.

I think the book spoke to me because as you may know, I am a writer at heart.

In the times before the internet, I wrote paper and pencil letters to friends. Keeping the post office in business one stamp at a time. I still send cards with more than one sentence - that's my own personal rule. Make a connection.

In college I would lie on my bed and write lengthy letters to high school friends, or later college friends that had moved on.

When the big kids were little, I would pen lengthy emails to friends during nap time.

As I listened to this book I thought about what we've gained and lost as methods of communication have changed.

We can now see short status updates or pictures on facebook but those aren't personalized for me or you. Generic- "here's what we are doing."

We can now send messages via social media or cell phone texts - short blurbs or long ramblings to specific friends/family.

We can see video messages on several different platforms letting us "see" the other person and listen to their thoughts in real time.

I use all of these and enjoy getting glimpses into the days of my friends in real time.

However, I realized as I listened to this book that there's something we've lost that we used to get in letter writing.

Letters force you to sort of zoom out - big picture if you will.

In a letter you don't typically go through every movement of every day but rather "here's the big picture of what's happening - here's what is important and why."

I started to wonder if the things I worry or complain about in messages would actually make it into a letter?

Most of them probably not because the problem would be resolved or in route to resolution by the time I wrote a letter for most things.

I think technology affords us some avenues of connection but I also think it allows us to minimize our communication.

It makes us think that because we are aware of the "details" of someone's life, that we know the big picture.

Just because I know what movie you saw Saturday does not mean I know how your emotional state is doing.

But we are tricked into thinking we do.

I've been thinking about this "zoom out" perspective in other areas of my life.

We are all very caught up on arguing the details on various issues.

I think if we could zoom out, we might find that on a big picture scale we see things more similarly than not.

If we spent less time arguing about a single verse of scripture in the bible, we might have space to zoom out and discern that we both think the character of God is good.

If we spent less time debating a single issue in politics, we might have space to zoom out and discern that we both think people should be treated humanely with kindness.

Mama Warriors as we raise children in the evolving world of technology, I think we have to constantly be aware of our need to zoom out.

As we read stories with our children, let's zoom out and find the big picture ideas.

As we have conversations with our friends and family, let's zoom out and find the big ideas where common ground exists.

As we grow in our faith, let's zoom out and make space for the big mystery of God rather than trying to place God in a box with the details.

Not Either, Or .....Both, And

 "We were largely taught WHAT to believe instead of HOW to believe. We had faith IN Jesus often as if he were an idol, more than sharing the expansive faith of Jesus, which is always humble and patient (Matt 11:25) and can be understood only by the humble and the patient." (Universal Christ by Richard Rohr)

The "in between years" are tough. There are these glimpses of childhood. The fun hat, the viewing of the latest animated movie, the way she lays next to me at night before we tuck her in.

And then.

There are these glimpses of teen years. The snark. The need to be right about absolutely everything. The insistent she doesn't need help when she clearly does.

But then, childhood brings this physicalness to parenting. Needing help with tying shoes, getting back to sleep, all the things.

And then, teen years bring vibrant conversations, people tie their own shoes and buckle themselves in -and eventually drive themselves places.

Challenges in both.

But good in both.

After a particularly hard day the other day, I signed myself up for a parenting class. A first. On kid #3.

Not because I expect to learn anything ground breaking but because I need a reminder of what my core values are.

I was reminded that I SEE what I LOOK for.

At the end of the day, both the childhood and teen moments exist but what I place the emphasis on as challenging is what sticks with me.

Each night as I lay down to go to sleep I pray this prayer

"Guide us waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping; that awake

we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace." (Compline, book of Common Prayer)

I've been thinking about this week.

Guide us waking O Lord that awake we may watch with Christ.

Be with us that we may remain present to you. Engaged.

I'm watching the world around me "with Christ" and trying to discern where we see Jesus.

I'm struggling because some see Jesus in the ICE agent while others see Jesus in the zip tied children on the streets of Chicago.

Some see Jesus in the current administration while others see Jesus in the people with special needs whose programs are being cut.

Some see Jesus in the Health and Human Services leadership while others see Jesus in the doctors serving patients.

Some see Jesus in the legislatures while others see Jesus in the government employees not being paid.

The examples are endless but the push pull is the same.

We see Jesus through our own lens.

We are convinced that our version of Christianity is the only right path.

I think often we prioritize our own pocket and what we consider is "ours" over this larger idea of loving each other.

I wonder sometimes do we see what we are looking for?

Are there bits of childhood and teen years but we only see one because that's the grass we are watering?

Is there a space where people might say, we need change BUT this isn't how we get there?

Not an either , or.

But a two things are true.

Mama Warriors, we are all doing the next right thing from our own perspective.

I challenge us to take a step toward the middle and see both sides.

Let's raise kids who know how to come to the table with not either or but both and.

Kids who can be problem solvers rather than kids who promote division.

Let's look at our own kids with both and eyes.

Childhood and teen.

Good on both sides.

Dualism and Grey Living

 Dualistic thinking begins in the soul and moves to the mind and eventually moves to the streets. Richard Rohr

Each week I teach 3 math classes where my goal is the same.

To get kids to think about math as something other than a list of memorized procedures.

The hurdle is that they all come to me from having done very standard math curriculums.

They like procedures. They know procedures.

The problem with procedures is that often they don't understand the math behind the procedure.

I want them to know why we "carry the 1" - and that we aren't carrying a "1" - we are carrying 10. We don't "borrow" in my class (no one is giving that one back) - and we aren't borrowing 1, we are regrouping 10. We don't bring down a 1 - we have one ten left over to regroup. We don't "keep change change" - we use our additive inverse property and my kids can show you on a number line why it works.

The list goes on (and goodness don't get me on my soapbox of "keep change flip").

However, this is often met with some resistance.

It's faster to memorize procedures.

Memorizing procedures is what they know.

Learning typically takes place just outside your comfort zone.

I share with them that it's not a one or the other. They are welcome to use their traditional algorithms -I just want them to understand why they work.

And maybe if traditional algorithms are challenging for you, I want you to have a new way to think about a concept or skill.

My classroom isn't dualistic - it's not this OR that.

Show me your way.

But also be willing to try mine.

Being able to make space for two ideas is a skill I feel like we don't exercise quite enough.

One of the reasons I want students to be able to think about a concept or skill in more than one way is because it lays the foundation for a growth mindset.

We've become a dualistic thinking society - this or that, right or wrong, red or blue.

Fixed mindset.

There's this beautiful land of grey in between the black and white thinking.

Dualistic thinking promotes divisiveness.

And "us versus them" approach to living.

Mama Warriors, the most repeated phrase in both my classroom and my home is "tell me more."

I rarely tell a student an answer is wrong as my first comment.

Tell me how you got here. Show me the way.

Maybe we need to redirect? Maybe we don't? I won't know until I follow the thought process.

The math process is rarely all wrong.

Somewhere between the black of correct and the white of wrong, is this grey space where students can learn and grow.

Let's help our kids be people who can explore the grey.

Who are comfortable in the grey.

Let's be people who can encounter ideas different than ours and say "tell me more."

Let's set down our dualistic approach and be willing to grow.

Pretzels and Two True Things

 "We tend to see resurrection only in the long run. In the short run, it often just looks like death." Richard Rohr

Yesterday, after a tough appointment, I took myself to Sam's to pick up a few things.

My favorite thing at Sam's is the pretzel and drink. It's less than $2 and makes me happy.

They never have the pretzel. It's a running family joke. I can see it in the case. But you have to order in the app. The app won't let me order because it says they are out. The employee couldn't possibly make more. The excuses are endless.

Yesterday they had the pretzel. The drink machines weren't working but I digress....

I've given up hoping or expecting the pretzel will be there. I've resolved to expect it won't.

This is less frustrating right? I'm not disappointed because I have assumed it won't be there.

I was recently criticized for posting something "political." I've been wrestling with that.

The current climate has muddled the waters. The things happening around us are no longer in neat columns. Social. Political. Spiritual.

It's all a big muddled mess.

The way we treat people. The way we speak about people. The way we treat the "least of these." The way we approach freedom of speech.

Political is no longer what's happening on the Senate floor or in rooms in Washington, DC.

Jesus was not partisan but he was most definitely political.

He had opinions about the way the leaders treated people.

And so should we.

One of my favorite parenting resources is Dr. Becky (if you have young kids, go follow her on some platform). She has this approach called "Two things are true. "

She uses it to validate feelings but also hold boundaries.

"Two things are true. Screen time is over AND you are frustrated that you have to stop playing your game."

We can validate a feeling and hold a boundary.

Two things can be true.

I feel like we've forgotten that as a society.

We feel like we have to stand firmly in a red or blue camp.

But two things can be true.

I can have empathy for the death of a husband, father, friend AND disagree with the way he spoke about groups of people.

I can dislike something someone says AND respect their right to say it as freedom of speech.

Two things can be true.

I don't know how to exist in today's world and never cross the "political line. "

I don't know how not to be soul heavy about the way we talk about people, treat people and the hate that is breeding on both sides of the fence.

Much like my feelings about the Sam's club pretzel, I've realized I've lost hope that we are going to be a "two things are true" society.

That we can be people who say "Two things are true - I respect you as a human being created in the image of God AND I feel differently on this issue." With no name calling. No hate speech.

But yesterday there was a pretzel.

And so today, I'm going to choose to hope that we as a country, a community can find our way back to "two things are true. "

Mama Warriors, two things are true today.

You can disagree with me AND you can stay my friend.

Or you can unfollow me.

In the hope of being part of the solution and not the problem, I'm going to continue to write about kindness, about seeing the good in people, about church trauma, about hope and more.

And I can't promise that is no longer considered political by some.

I'm going to continue to remind you that two things can be true.

Show Up. Celebrate. Bring Cake.

 "Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence." Anne Lamott

My funeral dress is getting entirely too much wear.

4 times in 9 months.

There is this season of life where you attend weddings. Everyone you know is getting married. Half of them want you to wear a hideous expensive dress that regardless of how many times they say you will, you absolutely will never wear again. You cry as the groom sees the bride for the first time. You show up, you celebrate. You eat cake.

There is the season of baby showers. Everyone is having a baby. Open the ridiculous registry of stuff you know they will absolutely never use and you buy something. You can't wait to meet this newest little life. You guess the baby's birthdate or weight. You show up, you celebrate. You eat cake.

There is the season of birthday parties. Every trampoline park, public park, germ infested kid place. You go. It's loud. You take a toy that hopefully makes the most noise ever. You marvel how much the birthday child has grown since the last time you saw them. You smile that authentic ear to ear smile. You show up, you celebrate. You eat cake.

The thing about funerals is that they are a constant of life.

There is no "funeral season" - they appear sometimes with grace and advance notice, other times abruptly and harshly.

As I've sat through (and officiated one) I've been thinking about the event that is a funeral.

What is its purpose?

Each funeral has been vastly different in tradition, location, experience.

But they've all had one thing in common.

People show up and celebrate.

Not the death, but rather the life that was lived.

Not instead of, but in the midst of deep mourning, there is always the sharing of the gift it was to know the deceased.

The legacy that is left behind.

The gift it was to have loved the deceased.

At this most recent funeral, the officiant defined a life well lived.

We often think of a life well lived as something chronological. A calendar. A long life.

But in reality, a life well lived is not based on the number of days we are given.

But rather on what we have done with those days.

It's how we loved others, served others, showed kindness to others.

It's the connections we made.

That's the legacy we leave behind.

Mama Warriors, despite how verbose I always seem here, I am always at a loss for words when I go to fill out a sympathy card.

I've learned as I've stood in all these funerals that the most meaningful thing we can offer someone else is to show up. To celebrate the life of the deceased. To stand in mourning with others.

To take a minute to share the legacy that was left - how did the deceased touch your life? What's the memory that holds on for you?

It will never be "enough" but yet at the same time it absolutely will be appreciated.

Show up.

Celebrate.

Bring cake.