Access

 "Like God, we must require from people the responsibility necessary to grant the amount of access we allow them to have in our lives. Too much access without the correct responsibility is detrimental." Terkeurst

There is this weird season of parenting where the people you parent feel like the number on their birth certificate entitles them to privileges and freedom that they haven't earned.

For those of you whose kids are super compliant, your best friend, and you are sailing toward adulthood. This post is not for you.

This is for the mama's who are walking the hard steps toward graduation, toward independence, toward whatever comes next.

Maybe not just the mama's. Maybe anyone who is doing life with other people who struggle with boundaries.

One of the many waves that have been crashing around here is boundary work.

I realized in the last two weeks that while I sacrifice greatly for these young adults in our home, when they are asked to sacrifice it's as if I've asked them to live through the great depression.

I've decided that relationships that are one way streets aren't healthy for me.

Some of that is definitely the invincible, endless time stupidity of childhood.

Will they regret one day that they ate yet another meal with a friend rather than watching the Super Bowl with their dad?

Will it bother them that their mother asked them to show up for her once and they didn't?

I'm not battling these folks "making" them do what's right.

People who file taxes should know what is right. And they should chose it.

And if they don't, then they will walk the hard consequences of relationships broken just like anyone else. They will see what happens when trust is broken. They will walk hard repair. If they choose.

I've been pondering this week how one balances making their kids feel important while not making them think the world revolves around them?

The literature suggests that all of this is very normal. The whole frontal brain is not developed, self centered nonsense.

I'm pushing back.

Maybe it's "normal" to only want to chose what YOU want, but it's not okay.

Mama Warriors, maybe you too find the hardest boundaries are the ones we must set with the people who live in our own homes.

I would challenge that these are the most necessary.

We set the tone for how the relationships in their life will work.

Access comes with responsibility.

You, and I, are worthy of more. Of better.

2 PM

 "During the day it is hard to remember that all the stars in the sky are out there all the time, even when I am too blinded by the sun to see them." Barbara Brown Taylor

Sometimes there are those weeks where the waves keep crashing and it feels hard to find your footing.

I started this week with a root canal on Monday.

The dentist may be my least favorite place on the planet. I arrived with my fuzzy blanket, a downloaded audio book (Ramona Quimby Age 8 because it's what we owned), and enough anxiety for multiple patients.

As this was my first experience with a root canal, I wasn't aware I would have to sign a consent form.

Item one on the consent form says that some 95% of root canal procedures are successful.

Item two tells you ALL about the possibilities for the other 5%.

No one had told me about the other 5%.

In the other 5% range anything from a minor infection needing antibiotics, to a loss of the tooth, to death. Yes, death.

I shared with the kind hygienist that I was going to sign her form but if she didn't get some gas flowing immediately afterword, she was going to lose me.

I'm positive my chart has some kind of special star on it to let everyone know that I am "special" at the dentist. These people are nicer to me than anyone else is. They tell me how great I'm doing (when I'm clearly not). They tell me how brave it is for me to come in for these procedures even when it's hard. They consistently ask me if I'm okay.

I left the dentist reminding myself to add this to my list of "I can do hard things" that I read to myself anytime I'm challenged.

My devotion read this morning talked about how inside each of us lives a 2 AM me and a 2 PM me.

2 AM me is full of the worry. The "what if." Everything seems overwhelming and dark at 2 AM.

2 PM me is the get er done. Finding a plan. Pushing through. Find the light.

The problem, for me, is that often 2 AM me shows up at all hours of the day. Like at an 8 AM root canal.

It's hard for me to live into 2 PM me.

I think Jesus has space for the 2 AM me but wants me to lean into, live into the 2 PM me.

I've been thinking on this wave crashing week how we get there.

How 2 PM me takes the lead.

Mama Warriors, maybe you struggle with your 2 AM worries wanting to take a foothold in the day time.

I'm finding that reminding myself of the many ways Jesus has shown up before and worked things out for me, whether I would have chosen that outcome or not, is key for me.

I started making a list.

In 1988 he gifted me a safe place to live. I was 13 and I'd known at least 8 years that we needed one. In his timing, in his way.

In 2013 he gifted me with my just one more. A 9 year prayer answered in his timing, in his way.

In 2020 he gifted me a new gastro med to try. I'd been sick six years and had lost over 100 pounds. A prayer answered in his timing, in his way.

I could list many more before, during and after those three but those three benchmarks remind me that sometimes the end is far away.

So at 2 AM when I'm worrying, I can list my benchmarks. Space for worrying now, but also space for 2 PM me that knows that hope exists.