Winners and Losers

 "Guide us waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping; that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace."

Last night I took Peanut to a new theater to audition for a play.

We had little information (come with a song prepared) and didn't know what to expect. We entered to find new, and old, theater friends auditioning as well.

There were a lot of kids auditioning. Many more than we had expected.

Google says 19 roles.

Tomorrow when the cast list is released there will be "winners" and "losers."

Kids who were cast.

And kids who were not.

Kids who prepared, practiced, did the hard thing and sang on stage alone. And were not picked.

Who you are as a "winner" and a "loser" says a lot about your character.

Tomorrow, we will make space for both those chosen and those not.

Regardless of which side we are on.

We will be empathetic that doing a hard thing and then not being picked is worthy of grief.

Make space for how some thought this would go did not happen.

We will be supportive and happy for those who are picked. Whether we are or not.

Make space for a realized dream.

Tomorrow we will still be people of good character regardless of what the cast list says.

We will not make judgmental or hateful comments about people not chosen. Or those chosen.

We will continue to work hard, love others and be followers of Jesus.

We will continue to grow.

Mama Warriors, I feel like I woke up today and the cast the list has been posted.

Some are grief stricken.

Some are exuberantly joyful.

Few can make space for the opposite.

Who you are on the winning side, or losing side, says a lot about YOU.

What you say, what you share, what you comment on - says something about YOUR character.

Let us make space for each other today, and every day, by choosing to remember who we are and WHOSE we are.

Respect Yourself

 "The fifth commandment - "Honor your father and your mother"- is about BEHAVIOR not feelings. Just as God understood that it is difficult for people to feel gratitude instead of envy, he also recognized that children are not naturally inclined to treat their parents with respect so he commanded it." Wendy Mogel, The Blessing of a Skinned Knee

The face in this picture is one of the key signs of the beginning of adolescents for those of you that haven't gotten there yet.

For YEARS, you say "Let me take your picture" and they say in the cutest way possible "CHEESE." You can barely see their eyes because the smile is so big.

And one day you say "Let me take your picture" and they say "Ugh Mom" with this disgusted look.

I always take the picture anyway.

Somewhat jokingly I tell them that this falls under the "no skin off your back" category. It costs you NOTHING to let me take your picture. It brings me joy. And I have the wisdom to know that the awkward preteen/teen phase is something you'll want to have pictures of later in life. To show others that you too went through that and survived.

Yes at one point, despite evidence to the contrary, you were once 11.

Despite my intense growth in the area of parenting over the last 22 years, it seems adolescence is still a rocky road.

I must say at least a billion times a day "It's not the words you choose, it's how you deliver them."

Peanut is allowed, and encouraged, to have different opinions. It's one of my favorite things about her. She wrestles. She overthinks things (might be her mother's child). She questions.

We do not run a "first time obedience" household. There is space for wanting to finish a chapter before doing something I've asked. There is space for wanting to know why that task is important.

I do not control Peanut.

Peanut controls Peanut.

Once we realize this as parents, it very much shifts many parenting conversations.

It seems that as a society we've sort of accepted that the tween/teen years are one of snarkiness and disrespect. They all do it so it must be the norm?

In my previous rodeo at this, I operated in "If, then" parenting. If you speak disrespectfully to me, then you lose screen time."

While this approach might (heavy emphasis on might) end the tone of conversations, it doesn't change the character behind the behavior. It makes it legalistic.

I can't control Peanut's tone but I can control her screen time. I don't want to be in control of her screen time - I want her to speak kindly to me.

On this third rodeo I've decided to put all the work I've done on boundaries in action.

I can control ME.

"I deserve to be spoken to respectfully. When you don't speak to me respectfully, I will remove MYSELF from the conversation."

I've given Peanut a powerful message. I deserve to be spoken to respectfully. Merely because God made me. Not because I'm her mother. Not because I'm in control. But because I'm a child of God.

As you might guess, Peanut still needs a lot of mothering. She often needs a chef, an uber driver, a teacher, a coach, etc.

I'm happy to be all those things to Peanut provided she chooses to speak to me respectfully.

Not agree with me.

But to be kind in the way she communicates.

Mama Warriors, it's been a long election year that is nearly coming to a close. Which honestly I feel is going to bring more division, not less.

I wish I could say we all spoke to each other, and about each other, respectfully.

I wish.

I can't control others.

I can control me.

So when people are disrespectful to me either directly, or indirectly, I hide them. I no longer see their content.

Because I can remove ME from a conversation where respect is not first.

You are worthy of respect.

Because you are a child of God in His image.

No matter how you vote.

Blue Glasses

 "Christ has no body but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours." Teresa of Avila

Our church does "coffee hour" after the service each week. There is..........coffee (imagine that). But also a wide variety of pastries, fruit/veggies, cheese/crackers. And sometimes cake.

I realized as I was enjoying my lemon bar this week that coffee hour is a way the church meets a physical need BEFORE meeting the spiritual need.

Coffee hour says "We know you are hungry. We want you to stay and linger and fellowship, and to make that happen here are snacks."

Coffee hour says "Community is important to us."

Coffee hour says "Everyone is welcome."

Coffee hour is typically a little chaotic. Definitely noisy. It mimics life in a lot of ways.

I watch as people mingle intergenerationally. I watch as people choose to sit with the unsheltered. I watch as our children/youth bring joy to the elderly.

A few weeks ago, a teen in our church and I were discussing coffee hour. Can you believe we both went to previous churches where after church people just rushed out? Without a cookie?

Where attending church was a box checked off in an hour?

In the midst of our conversation, he abruptly stopped and said "Ms. Michele - where are your blue glasses? What happened to them? When did that happen?"

As my eyes seem to be aging along with the rest of me, I carry my reading glasses with me always. And I keep them, somewhat safely, on the top of my head. I can't read my phone, paperwork, the hymnal at church - anything without them.

I'm going to confess being a little teary as this young man was the first person (and only) to notice my blue glasses broke. I loved them. They cost a whopping $1.25 but because of their bright color I can sometimes find them when I inevitably put them down.

I thanked him for noticing and shared about how it seems for $1.25 they just aren't very durable.

In that blue glasses moment, I felt truly seen at church.

Coffee hour gives us time each week to linger and really SEE each other. How did that surgery go? How's your dog/garden/kid? What happened to your blue glasses?

I think this is how Jesus walked. He didn't rush to heal or check boxes - he spent time with people. He lingered. Over cake. He truly saw the heart of people.

And when we make space to see each other's hearts - there's a wide berth for differences.

Mama Warriors, this morning as I shuffle between all the things - the dishes, the laundry, the school, the dog...........I'm reminded that much of motherhood is unseen.

And let's face it, unappreciated. No one says "thanks mom" that they find milk in the fridge. No one says "thanks mom" that clothes arrive in a basket clean and ready for her to put away. No one says "thanks mom" that our home isn't growing mold or drowning in dust.

It's important that we see each other.

That we speak truth and life to each other.

That we make our own coffee hours and linger with each other.

That we notice details like blue glasses.

What if?

 "God's love isn't based on me. It's simply placed on me. And it's the place from which I should live.........loved."

One of my favorite movies is Parenthood. For me, the movie parallels much of real life.

How we do life with people who are in different seasons- some with younger children, some with older children, some with empty nests, etc.

We have something to offer each of those AND something to glean.

We are in an interesting season of parenthood as we have a 22 and 20 still at home (let's blame the economy) and also an 11 year old. Most people we encounter who are parenting an 11 year old aren't knocking on 50's doorstep. And most people parenting a 22 year old, aren't uber driving an 11 year old around and walking adolescence. Again.

One of my favorite scenes from the movie is where Grandma (Grandma's are often my favorite character in a movie) is sharing about a time her late husband took her to the amusement park.

"You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it."

I've lamented in my ramblings over the years that I am a merry go round gal. Give me a good carousel. I'm a google calendar notifications, likes to know what to expect, home body.

However, I've found that life continues to find me stuck on the roller coaster.

There seems to be a constant "one thing after another" theme.

Over the years I've leaned in and tried to reframe this roller coaster in many different ways.

I've tried the "this too shall pass." It doesn't. Or maybe the "this" does but another "this" arrives in its place.

I've tried the "what do you have me learn from this." I often am not sure. Then I'm just overwhelmed and frustrated.

Recently I've stepped out of my comfort zone (off the merry go round, onto the roller coaster) and joined a new bible study that is digging into the history of the bible.

If you've been around for a while, you know that I've been on this digging and wrestling journey for about a decade now.

Stepping off the merry go round of the things I was taught and riding the roller coaster of asking the big questions. Making space to look at theology versus doctrine. To think about the bible as illustrative not prescriptive.

This week we explored multiple old testament stories. With a "consider this" mindset.

What if we read the bible and asked ourselves what does this tell us about ME? Where am I in this story? What does it say about God's relationship with His people?

In each story, we circle back to the idea that God's people wobbled.

And he stayed consistent.

In each story, God's people wandered.

And he welcomed them back.

Sometimes I think we get too caught up in the details to appreciate the illustration.

In trying to determine what the "rules" are, we lose the character of God.

Mama Warriors, sometimes I'm too caught up in the bumpiness of the roller coaster to appreciate the view.

I'm holding on. I'm closing my eyes. I'm waiting for it to be over.

What if instead I learned to embrace the wobbling?

What if I remembered that I only appreciate the merry go round because I know what the roller coaster feels like?

And in a merry go round moment instead of bracing myself for the next roller coaster, what if I exhaled and enjoyed it?

What if?

I broke the plate...

"I wanted to love my kids as only God can love them. Either I was setting up rivals for God or I was trying to compete with God- both efforts are doomed to failure."

I heard the crash in my kitchen last night before I heard the child yell "MOM." The combination is never good, right?

I entered the kitchen and said child was already rambling "YOU left YOUR plate on the kitchen counter. If it had been in the sink, it wouldn't have broken when I dropped a cup."

Sometimes I have to take two steps back and a deep breath to address the nonsense that comes out of my children's mouths. 

So - when YOU were unloading the dishwasher and YOU dropped a cup out of the cabinet and broke a plate, it was somehow MY fault? Because rather than being in the living room where everyone else's plate was, I had properly returned my plate to the kitchen. It was MY fault.

Um, no sweet child of mine. No. 

Yes, it was an accident BUT your first response should have been "I'm sorry Mom I broke a plate when I dropped the cup."

Not some diatribe about how it could not possibly be YOUR fault that the plate was broken. 

I left that plate on the counter in pieces as we were worked through the idea of accepting our role in brokenness. 

I've been soaking that today. The idea that we have to take ownership of our part in our own brokenness.

"Every problem must find its owner before we can ever offer a solution."

I've been pondering - perhaps God is waiting for me to own my own responsibility for my brokenness before He is going to offer a solution?

Just like we had to reach an agreement that this child of mine was in part responsible for this broken plate, I have to reach an agreement with God that I am responsible for my continued brokenness. 

I think we've become a society of problems without owners. 

People are shouting and complaining about the lack of solution but no one has stepped up and taken ownership for the problems. 

We are a society of broken people who can't admit we're broken. Or are just sure our brokenness is someone else's fault. 

 From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked. Luke 12:48

Mama Warriors, we've been given much. We've been entrusted with much. These little souls that we birthed, they are "much." We can't teach them to be the hands and feet of Jesus without showing them how to NEED Jesus. We can't be their constant refuge - we MUST show them that we are not their solution offerers. He is. 

And for them to gain solutions, they must take ownership of their own problems. They must be able to say "I broke the plate."

Still There

"Jesus takes the Resistance beyond prophecy, beyond songs of hope and lamentation, beyond satire and mockery, and beyond apocalyptic visions to declare the inauguration of a new kingdom. With his birth, teachings, death and resurrection, Jesus has stared a revolution. It just doesn't look the way anyone expects."

Earlier this week, Xman ran into Kroger with me on the way to drop him off for his classes. 

We were on the same aisle and I sent him further down the aisle to grab something. 

I had my back turned, and while he said "Mom" a few times - I didn't recognize his voice. 

If you haven't heard him speak recently, that deep tone is far from the little boy voice that has always been my baby. 

There are many times now that if I close my eyes, I don't recognize him. His voice is new and not familiar. 

I've been pondering this over this week. 

How someone can be so familiar, but then not at the same time? 

I've been feeling that way about God recently. 

How I can't seem to be still. How I can't hear Him. 

I got to thinking - maybe it's just His voice has changed in this season. 

I'm the kind of girl would like an email from God or a google calendar update on the changes. 

But sometimes, His voice is just the provision in a tight moment. Or the mechanics of a day working out okay. Or an illness that comes and goes. 

Sometimes it's the song on the radio, or the quote in a book. 

It's the friend who texted at just the right time. The card that shows up in the mail. The lady who lets you go first at the store. 

It's the little reminders that He cares about YOU. 

Mama Warriors, maybe you, like me, find the voice of God changing in this season. 

Maybe you hear a voice, but you don't recognize the tone. 

Maybe it's time to recognize that His voice is changing because your relationship is growing. 

Maybe He doesn't need to shout at you anymore, He knows you are ready to lean into the soft whisper. 

Tune into the tone difference. 

He's still there.

Granola

 "Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves." Brene Brown

In the Winter of 1998 I was student teaching in a middle school classroom. Which basically meant I was consistently sick.

I came home from a long day in a classroom being eaten alive by sixth graders, with a fever and cold symptoms.

For you youngins - in 1998, you made phone calls from your home on a phone attached to a wall with your voice. I called SD, who I had been dating merely months at this time, and shared I was sick, coughing and sniffling the whole time. I was going to spend the evening in watching TV.

At the time I lived in Athens and he lived in Atlanta. This was a weekday and he had already spent his day in classes, and then working.

I dozed off and on and awoke to a knock on my apartment door.

SD had driven from Atlanta to Athens to bring me soup and cupcakes. Campbells chicken noodle in the red can (that's what moms fed their kids in the 80s and thus my comfort sick food ) and vanilla buttercream cupcakes.

Only to turn around and drive back because he had class again the next morning.

He had a full plate of responsibilities that he had paused because I was sick. He brought my favorite things, made me soup and hot tea and turned around and drove back to Atlanta.

I decided then he was marriage material. I wasn't sure if it was for me yet, but definitely someone should marry him.

Saturday I went to book club where I was very much looking forward to the cinnamon streusel coffee cake I order two mornings a month. And the company of my book club girls. But also the coffee cake.

When I got home, I was telling SD how they've ruined my coffee cake this month by making it one of the many pumpkin themed options. (no offense to you pumpkin loving folks)

This morning I woke up to cinnamon coffee cake sitting on my counter waiting for me.

I listened to a sermon yesterday on marriage. In the sermon, the priest tells a story about a woman whose husband always went to this specialty store to replace her favorite granola anytime it was out. Without her asking. He just did it because he noticed and he knew it was important to her.

One day he stopped replacing the granola. That's how she knew their marriage was ending.

I've been thinking about the woman and the granola today.

I think we all agree it's not that he didn't buy the granola.

It's that he quit doing the small.

He quit seeing what was important to her and prioritizing that.

He quit showing up for her in the daily.

SD and I have 27 years invested in our relationship, 30 if you count the best friend status for the 3 years prior to that.

There have been seasons of granola buying and seasons of not.

Because marriage is this journey of choice where everyday you wake up and you decide. "Today I will buy the granola. "

Mama Warriors, many of our seasons of "not" were in hard parenting times. Seasons of kids who didn't sleep at night. Seasons of teenagers who fought us on everything. Seasons of change.

I wish I had known then it was important to do the small even when it felt like I didn't have the small to give.

Especially when I didn't have the small to give.

We have to buy the granola even if they aren't. Especially if they aren't.

Because we're called to love them as He loves them.

Because "I do" included the granola.