Sticks

 “But it does not seem that I can trust anyone,' said Frodo.

Sam looked at him unhappily. 'It all depends on what you want,' put in Merry. 'You can trust us to stick with you through thick and thin--to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours--closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo.”― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

I sat down this morning in my local CFA to try to find the bottom of my email inbox.

I reached into my bag to find a pen and found instead these 3 sticks.

I immediately knew what they were. And also immediately smiled.

A few weeks ago my niece and nephew handed me their beloved sticks to hold while they ate their snow cones.

I dutifully put them in my bag so as not to lose them.

Where they still are.

Kids have an innate sense of who they can trust.

A gut instinct that is truer than most adults.

It's an honor for a kid to trust you with their sticks.

I'm curious as to what happens as we grow up.

We lose our ability to trust ourselves.

We take too much information from the outside world and forget that somewhere, deep inside us, we know who to trust with our sticks.

And maybe, our adults have failed us and forced us to trust people who aren't trustworthy.

I think we are all one "hug your aunt" or "stay here in this church class" away from pushing our kids into scenarios that their gut says "nope."

What if we just honored that?

What if we said "choose how to tell your aunt goodbye?" or "would you like to sit quietly in church or go to your own class?"

What if we sent our kids the message that we trust their gut too?

What if we said "You get to choose who holds your sticks."

I fiercely love my niece and nephew.

But I don't get to hold their sticks simply because I'm their aunt.

I get to hold their sticks because I step into their world and I invest in them. I make time and space for their beautifully uniquely made selves. I look them in the eye and I listen to them.

The challenge is that even after doing those things - I'd also respect it if they said I couldn't hold their sticks. Or if they weren't ready. Or if not this time.

Mama Warriors, there comes a time when our kids sticks become their secrets.

We want to be people that have earned the right to hear them.

We want to have gifted our kids such a strong foundation of trust in themselves that they trust us in return.

We do this in the small. By reminding them that their gut is worthy and true.

By giving words to what they might not be able to.

By being people who hold their sticks with care.