Assume the Best

 "Judaism doesn't ask its followers to take a leap of faith. It asks them to take a leap of ACTION.

First you do. Then you understand." Wendy Mogel

We start most of our days with a lingering routine that involves warm beverages, good literature and some fresh air.

Tuesdays are our exception.

On Tuesdays Peanut has to be at co-op classes first thing in the morning.

Despite the NUMEROUS times her mother has suggested packing the bookbag the day before - it is always a Tuesday morning activity.

We are in throes of early adolescence.

The "Oh my gosh my hair looks awful" kind of throes.

Lord help us.

By the time we got to the "Do you have everything in your backpack?" this morning Peanut was in full sass mode.

"UGH. I KNOW. I have it."

Let's all giggle as we know where this is going right?

On the drive to school I ask "Do you feel like sharing your reading response today in class?"

As I look into the rearview mirror for the answer, I immediately know that the reading response is not in the backpack.

Apparently she didn't "know."

Definitely doesn't "have it."

I'd like to say that I calmly said mistakes happen, let's think of a solution.

But rather I said "perhaps if when someone asked you if you were ready and was going to list what you needed - if you hadn't rudely interrupted and been unkind, you would have the reading response in the backpack rather than still on the printer."

And then I stopped myself.

Peanut already felt bad. She wasn't going to be prepared for class.

Me berating her for that wasn't going to help her have a good day.

There's this balance in relationships right?

Sometimes we offer grace and we help solve the problem.

Other times we allow natural consequences to happen (the bad grade, the missing assignment, the no lunch to eat) so that they learn. Rescues don't always happen. You live with the consequences of your decision.

Today I offered grace.

We pulled into the library and I told Peanut she could solve her own problem by going in, asking to use a computer, logging into her account, printing her paper, and PAYING for it.

I was confident she could ask the librarians for help and she could learn to do it.

And I went about looking for library books.

Peanut needed two librarians, and a little help from me, but she managed to get her paper printed. And we arrived at school prepared.

While she didn't learn the lesson of arriving to school without her paper, I felt like she did learn another valuable skill.

How to pivot.

How to problem solve.

And that even when you are right (I already knew it was likely she did not have everything she needed) - you be graceful.

You can swallow the "I told you so" and respond in kindness.

You can assume the best of the other person. Peanut wanted to be prepared for class. She had done the work. She made a mistake.

Mama Warriors, I feel like we have become a community that does not assume the best.

Everyone else's mistake is personal to US.

Peanut not having the paper had NOTHING to do with me. And everything to do with her worrying about how she looks, what the other kids will think, how she feels on a long school day.

It felt like it was personal because I asked.

But really, I wasn't even a factor in the equation.

There's no room for grace.

My mail carrier delivered my last package two doors down. I could rant on social media about how her ONE job is to deliver the mail. Or I can remember that Ms. Shirley works hard. She smiles when I see her. She made a mistake.

I could assume the best about Ms. Shirley.

We could assume the best about each other.

We could make space for mistakes.

We could extend grace.

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?