30 days of SILENCE...the Experiment

Today I decided to give my son a gift, one that requires a bit of sacrifice on my part.   I give him the gift of keeping my mouth shut.

"A day of silence can be a pilgrimage in itself."   Hafez

Anyone who is extremely close to me knows that this is a painful thing for me.  I show love by the words I speak.  I feel love through the words others speak to me.  It is my primary love language.  As strange and dysfunctional as it seems, even the negative things I speak are often spoken because I love someone.

I have known for a long time that my penchant for words is working against me in my relationship with my pre-adolescent boy.  And tonight I make the commitment to give up my habits and likes so that my son can find his way without my constant nagging, criticism, commands, praise, instructions, advice, ideas, etc., etc.  I of course, will still have to speak to function in my home and in society.  I am talking about ceasing from any type of negative or micro-managing speech.

I'm not talking about letting him parent himself.  The same rules will still be in place in our house. He is still expected to fulfill his chores and schoolwork before he watches TV or plays video games.  His pets and farm animals will still need care.  I will still expect that he treat us and others with respect.

What different will silence make?  For once I will not be doing all of the talking.  Maybe my son will be able to find his own voice if he isn't constantly hearing mine.  And maybe he will actually do something on his own and feel proud of himself because Mom didn't stand over him and give him instructions every step of the way!

"Silence is a source of great strength." Lao Tzu

And more importantly, maybe he will have room for listening to God if Mom isn't doing all the talking.
And I also hope that through this 30 days he will begin to have fun with me again, will begin to be more open and talk to me more and will be reminded that he truly is loved.  Just the way he is. . .Even if he doesn't follow the rules.

Isn't that really what we all want?  Unconditional Love?

I wonder how many adults feel empty for lack of acceptance.  I know I have at times in my life.  But there is always someone there who will give that love if we are open to it.  For me it was my husband.  My friend Missy comes to mind.  I have never felt pressured around her to be anybody but me.  That doesn't say that my other friendships aren't as valuable to me.  They are.  But there is something special about that friend who just lets you be you.  No explanations or excuses required.  I cannot say I have been that friend to anyone on a consistent basis.

And most of all, children have accepted me for who I am, especially my own.  Unfortunately that capacity seems to shrink with age, probably for lack of better role models.  I say this not pointing a finger, except to myself.  It is perhaps my greatest failing as a mother.

The past aside now...30 days begin tomorrow.  I need your prayers dear friends.  Especially that those destructive things we call "expectations" don't get in the way!

If you have a rocky road with anyone in your life and would like to embark on this 30 days of silence with me, then I would love to hear from you.  Please leave your comments or e-mails and let me know what is happening as you work through the 30 days.

"Silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing."  William S. Burroughs

Gratitude for Mom

How do you thank a mother?

Sometimes words aren't enough. Every day people are saying things about their mother without saying anything at all. In their conversation, their dress, the books they read. Sometimes it is a reflection of their mother, but sometimes it isn't. Many a righteous mother has cringed to hear her child open his lips. Many a mediocre mother has beamed at her daughter's stellar performance. And practically every mother has either smiled with pride or flushed with embarrassment to see her young (or grown) child imitating her.

Not everyone has a mother to thank today. Four years as a caseworker with children that are at risk of abuse and neglect, was time enough to drive the point home. Women, clothed in flesh like myself, missing the boat. Mastered by addiction, depression, and the futility of life. Little eyes reflected the misery of being in their Mother's presence. Yet they desperately clung. After all, you only have one mother.

I was one of the the blessed, through no merit of my own. As I think about how to thank you, Mom, I realize the best way is in living well. Because no matter how hard I try not to, I see my children as a reflection of myself. And I know you do the same. I've often heard you say "if I'd only taught you this or that. . .". But you taught me well through the many things you did or didn't do. Here's how I want to thank you:

When I get up in the morning I will thank you by opening my Bible. I will be reading it when my children awaken. ( This is a vivid childhood memory for me)

When they lay their little heads down at night, I will pray with them. They will go to sleep with God the father as their final thought. (What security I found in this!)

When I stand in the kitchen barefoot, I will sing hymns of praise. I hope my children will memorize the words and sing them when their hearts need a song. (one of my favorite memories)

When I speak to my husband I will do so with respect. My children will not hear me criticizing him. But they will hear me say by my words and actions that I am content with him. (a great gift for my Dad and us kids)

When I am working I will not complain I will be happy to be alive and serving my family. (why I think gardening, putting up wood are fun. . .)

When I consider the task of the day, I will put my family first,tirelessly washing dishes and clothes, cooking hot meals. (How did you do it?)

When I will work side-by-side with my husband, I will model teamwork for watching eyes and listening ears. (countless times on the farm!)

When my children are near I will kiss them and make them feel loved. I will hope they are proud of me like I am of you. (you did what didn't come easily for your own parents despite their love for you)



And sometimes I will find time to run and slide across the hardwood floor in my socks or make up silly songs like "there is no other like your Mother"

So many things you modeled for me, I aspire to model. So much of who I am, I owe to you. My love of home and land, my belief that I can write and write well, my desire for Jesus, my enjoyment of work, my pride in womanhood, my love of old books, my reverence for my elders- just to name a few.

So today I thank you for all the things you did and didn't say - for just being yourself and in so doing influencing me for the good. I hope that my life will be a thank you. And that you will have cause to believe that the many seemingly endless task you performed before me were not in vain.

I love you and I hope you make the time to relax and breathe in God's love for you today. And I hope you accept the fact that as a mother you have given your all. Well done, Mom! Happy Mother's Day!!!

No more convictions...

Birds singing outside my window... the Sunday after Easter, 36 Easters and I'm still not sure I understand. Do I really understand the resurrection? Tradition takes hold of me daily. My husband says I'm ruled by my convictions. He makes it sound so good- like someone I'd like to know. But I know the fear, the anger, the doubts that rule over me. I know I met Jesus. In the basement of the Second Baptist Church one morning. Mrs. Anderson talked quietly about the cross, about Jesus dying for me. And I felt his presence. I felt remorse, even at the age of seven or eight. I knew he died for me. I had never felt so free and clean. I floated above the sidewalk on the way back to class. 28 or 29 years isn't really a long time. But it seems that way. And all I can think about is what have I done? Have I done anything to show my allegiance? There comes a time when convictions aren't enough. Convictions don't make you love someone. Convictions don't bind up the wounds of others. Convictions walk around the traveler lying in the road. Convictions don't serve with joy. They stand their ground. They are the heralds, the moral compass of the group. But they leave you a little cold. A little misunderstood. And further from the little basement in the second Baptist Church. And they make you more grounded to the sidewalk on the way back to class. Fast forward and all I can think about is the past. The way I felt back then - the way I want to feel now. Alive! Resurrected! Clean! I know I don't have to go back. I just have to reach out. Reach out past the dishes. Reach past the piles of laundry. Then there's my son.. A beautiful gift. I have to reach past my pride. Find the freshness of a new parent. Strip away the convictions, the traditions, the expectations of others in my traditional bubble. Spare the rod and spoil the child they say, but what about "Thy Rod and Thy staff they comfort me?". What about "goodness and mercy"? What about Grace? I ask you,Lord,to pick me up out of my puddle of self-righteousness. And instead of placing my feet on solid ground,I ask you to help me float. Float above my expectations for my son and myself, above the dirty sidewalk of my anger , above the bully inside of me that desires to force my son to do right instead of leading him gently like a shepherd by the still waters. Instead of gently making him to lie down in green pastures filled with the flowers of encouragement, the nourishment of acceptance. Help me to lead him to you, and in the process, find you myself. Again. Amen.

Mornings

"With my soul have I desired thee in the night; yea, with my spirit within me will I seek thee early." Isaiah 26:9

Since becoming a mother, I have enjoyed mornings immensely. I am an introvert, albeit an extroverted one. Mornings provide the perfect opportunity that every introvert craves, yet comes so rarely with young children- the opportunity for silence.

I do enjoy the chatter of my almost nine year old. But I require a little "white space" as one writer put it. It helps me feel grounded as I start the active part of my day.
Recently, in the middle of a series of questions, I felt compelled to create a moment of silence. My 35 year old brain enjoyed a 10 minute respite from conversation. I think my son felt calmed by it as well. I proceeded afterward with a much better frame of mind.

Although mornings are typically pleasant for me, I have also found that they can be uncomfortable. This morning I was up at 2:30 or so and did not enjoy much sleep after that time. I was out of bed for approximately 1/2 hour when my alarm sounded at 5 A.M. It seems like mornings are the moments that are right for hashing out feelings or events that aren't always pleasant.

My thoughts this morning were regarding being a parent. It isn't any easy job but I cannot think of anything else I would rather do. Admitting that I haven't been living up to my own standards as a parent is tough. But this morning it was necessary to get me back on track.

The exact nature of my concerns are a topic for another blog. As I prepare for the privilege of another day with my children, I thank God for the moments when He wakes me up early to talk to me, to speak to my heart in the silence.

If you get the chance some morning, get up with the stars. Beat the sun before it makes it appearance. Get a cup of tea, breathe in and out and enjoy. Don't be afraid of what the heavenly Father might say in the silence.

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.". I John 4:18, KJV

Learning to listen. . .

When I enjoy being in someone's company I find that they usually take the time to listen.  They rarely seem to be in a rush to "get something off their chest" and they actually act like they hear you instead of thinking of what right answers they can give you when you are finished talking.

I have been practicing listening today.   Listening to my son talk about what interests him- it varies from moment to moment, but usually involves something that he has read in a book.  He is really into the Magic Tree House series right now.  Yesterday I found him listing "Arctic Facts" in his notebook, copying them from the back of one of the Magic Tree House books.  Today he perused through our bird field guide and listed the names of several birds in his notebook. 

When my son talks it is about things that most adults consider small or irrelevant.  And although I would like to categorize myself outside of "most adults" I would have to say that I often fall in that category.  Sometimes it is hard to see what is more important, listening to a seven year old talk about what excites him or doing the dishes.  I guess I have always felt like I cannot do both at the same time.

Something I am learning is that it is possible to listen and show you care even when you are busy.  It may mean more spots on the dishes or that it takes longer, but my son gets to talk and experience the acceptance of just having someone listen.  Its called courtesy when I listen to my friends- I think it should apply to children as well.
And you know what?   I find out that the small things that he talks about are becoming more important to me.  I guess it really is true. . .Where you invest your time and energy is where your heart is.