It is no secret to those who know me well that I love to plan. I'm lucky enough to be a planner with flexibility, so when plans change, I'm cool with it. That just means I get to replan! Bonus! Plus, being married to a man who is basically the incarnation of chaos, planning can never be rigid, not in my world.
Homeschooling has given me innumerable ways to indulge my planning urges. There are SO many resources, ideas, books, and curricula options, it makes my head spin. With three kids to plan for, since next year I'll have a 3rd grader, a 1st grader and a little preschooler who really wants to "do school" with Mommy, I have to sort through the options, thinking about what has worked well for us, what hasn't, my kids' learning styles and preferences, and my goals for them, as well as my teaching style.
I love reading through homeschooling blogs, reviews, curricula descriptions, and booklists. I love sorting through the possibilities, taking notes, making lists and coming up with plans. It's like crack to me.
It occurred to me tonight, as I spend a wild and crazy Saturday pouring over ideas for next year, why that is - why I love planning so much.
Everything is perfect in the plan.
There is no whining in the plan. There are no interruptions, potty breaks, snacks, spilled cups of water, glue squirted all over the floor or newly potty trained 3-year-olds needing help with their panties in the plan. In my imagination, my ideas all work remarkably well; miraculously well, in fact. My plans flow smoothly, preparation isn't a problem and implementation is effortless. Ah, how lovely the planning stage is.
The reality is, naturally, quite different from my plans. And that's ok too. Reality is a lot messier, takes more time, definitely includes some whining, and basically doesn't turn out the way I want.
I know this, and I'm cool with it.
But I do need to keep in mind, as I plan, to keep things fluid and flexible enough to allow the plans to fall apart when they need to. I need to be ok with scrapping my plans and starting over when things aren't working. I tend to want to pour over every single possible option so I know I'm making the best choice possible (and I do this with so many things - you should see me shop for shoes). It's like I'm afraid I will find out later there was something better and regret my decision. But I can't always predict how things will work in our homeschool (or how the shoes will fit). Sometimes things work out the way I expect, but very often, they don't. That can be hard to deal with, when you've bought curricula, or purchased books or have a well laid out lesson plan that just isn't working. I've been there, and I'm still basically a newbie homeschooler.
I'll continue to research and plan like crazy, because what can I say, I can't help myself. My challenge is to keep reality in perspective as I do so, which will hopefully make my planning time more productive - or at least more likely to result in a good learning experience for all of us here in our little school.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Making time for the littlest one
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| I'm cute, even with a dirty face |
Today I took my 3 year old daughter with me to Costco. It was just the two of us; the boys went with Daddy to get the oil changed on our truck (man time - very important!). As we headed out of our neighborhood, we passed the neighborhood school; the school my oldest went to for his kindergarten year, and the school both my boys would be attending if we weren't homeschooling.
The thought occurred to me, as I enjoyed some silly banter with my girly-girl, that she might be missing out on some special one-on-one time because the boys are home. We don't drop them off at school in the morning, and then head out to run errands together, or go home and read picture books and build puzzles, just the two of us. It is rare that she gets me all to herself, and if the boys were in a traditional school, she would.
Am I missing something here? In choosing to homeschool based primarily on where my oldest son was at the time, did I overlook the time my daughter would have had alone with Mommy during these precious preschool-ish years?
Perhaps.
I admit it sent me down the mommy-guilt road, even if just for a little while. She does love her mommy time, and yes she does have less of it than she might have otherwise. At least for now.
But she does have other things, as a result of this funny life we live. And she'll have even more of those other things as she grows - things she wouldn't have if we weren't home educating.
She has time with her brothers. They are home with us all the time, but really, that's a plus. They all love each other a heck of a lot, and get along pretty well. Maybe I'm in for it later, but there isn't a ton of bickering amongst my kids; some, but not the overwhelming sort that makes me wish I could pack them off to school all day.
She has all sorts of learning opportunities at their side. We go on field trips as a family. She goes to the art museums and the ballet performances and the nature walks and the zoo trips. She sits at the table with us as we work and colors or cuts paper. She sees them reading and working and learning; these things are simply a part of our days, a part of our life, a part of our world.
In the long run, she'll have far more time with me, alone and otherwise, than she would if she was headed for school in a year or two. She may not have mornings alone with mommy while her brothers are at school, but she also won't be away from me at preschool (and isn't now) for several hours a week. And later, she won't be away from me for 7 hours a day, as she would if she were traditionally schooled. I think my worries about time spent with her are truly no worry at all.
The key to making this life work well for all of them, I think, is to mindfully spend time with each of them, each day. That has always been easy with my oldest; he loves attention and if he's feeling neglected, he will be right there to tell you all about it. I naturally spend most of our school time with him; he's older with more work to do. I've recognized that for a long time, and done my best to make sure to attend to the needs of my younger son as best I can. He's quieter in his own fashion, and doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve, so I know I need to come to him to fill up his "love tank."
But my sweet girl, she needs that same effort. She needs to be held and loved and read to. She needs me to sit with her and watch her paste stickers or glob glue on construction paper. She needs me to integrate her into our day as I can, instead of pushing her off so I can get things done with her brothers.
It isn't easy, I'll tell you that. Schooling two instead of just one this year has made a pretty significant difference in how our days flow, even though my kindergartner's workload is gentle. Adding a third is a challenge. And it isn't a curriculum or a set of plans that she needs. She just needs time. I have the resources; the books, the toys, the art supplies. I just need to be sure to set aside the time to be with her. It's what I'm working on as we head into the second month of the year.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
The Ancient Hebrews and Us
Recently, I've been reading, "Walking With God," by Jeff Cavins and Tim Gray. It walks you through the narrative portions of the Bible, showing how it is one long story of salvation history. I've found it fascinating, and as I haven't delved very deeply into the Old Testament before, I have learned a great deal.
As I read about the plight of Israel, and learn more about the things they went through prior to the birth of Jesus, I am finding so many parts of the story I wasn't familiar with; levels of meaning that are deeper than the "Bible story" versions I remember. For instance, when Moses first goes to Pharaoh, he does not ask for his people to be set free from slavery entirely; he merely asks that they are allowed to leave for three days to worship God in the desert. And the various plagues God unleashed upon Egypt were calculated to attack the power of specific Egyptian deities, showing that He is the true God, not them. The entire Exodus story was not just a story of a people freed from a life of slavery; it is the story of God trying to wrestle his people from the grip of idolatry.
The ancient Hebrews were living in a world of pagan cultures. From their time amongst the Egyptians, to being surrounded by Canaanites, Philistines and others; to their time of exile amongst Babylonians and Assyrians, to being conquered by Greeks and Romans, the Hebrews were constantly living in and around cultures who had dramatically different beliefs, customs and practices. Time and time again, they veered from God's law, and took up the practices of their neighbors. In reading the scriptures, it is easy (at least for me), to wonder how it was that they slipped into idolatry so easily. How could they forget what God had done for them and abandon his ways, even in the face of danger and difficulty, even when they had prophets trying to guide their way? The very voice of God spoke to them on different occasions. They witnessed amazing miracles and clear signs of God's favor or disapproval.
But what one needs to remember is how different their life was supposed to be from their neighbors, and how difficult that must have been.
What has struck me, is how the story of the Hebrews and their pitfalls and trials, so mirrors the story of any one of us today. We may no longer be called to adhere to strict cultural laws that govern what we eat, maintain cleanliness, and how we worship God. But we are called to adhere to God's commands, and to live a life that is different from many around us. No longer are God's people living amongst pagan cultures such as the Egyptians, Assyrians or Greeks. We now live in world of secular idolatry. The new paganism that we are surrounded by is the secular culture of our day; a world in which many of the ways we, as Christians, are called to live are contrary to what we see around us. We are asked to set ourselves apart, and live differently. And like the ancient Hebrews before us, that's hard to do.
Instead of having to choose whether to adhere to the traditions and practices of our fathers, or worship the statue down the street, we have to choose whether to remain steadfast to the teachings of Jesus and the Church, or allow ourselves to be swept up in the tide of modern culture. It isn't easy to choose to live a life that is different from many of those around you; to hold fast to different beliefs and practices. To continue to go to mass, to pray, to stand up for what we believe to be right. Like the Hebrews before us, we are surrounded, in the midst of a mass of people who do not know God, or if they do, have chosen to reject Him. In the midst of this, we are asked to be different, to be faithful, to trust.
And the worst part is, when you read the Scriptures, you realize how terribly the Hebrews failed! They failed time and time again. God would send them instructions, and they would ignore them. God sent prophets, messages, even angels! And still, the Hebrew people seem almost fickle in their wavering from faithfulness to rejection of God's ways. The hope inherent in these stories is of course that God's mercy and forgiveness are always offered, if the people will be obedient and follow Him.
We know, 2,000 years later, that in Christ Jesus, we have forgiveness and redemption. We know the law was fulfilled in him, and we understand more of what it means to live according to God's law. And yet, like the Hebrews before us, we fail. Even when we believe, even when we try to dedicate our lives to God and live the way He wishes for us, we fail. We mess up. We aren't faithful. We don't trust. I know I don't, far more often than I really want to admit.
But again, like the Hebrews before us, we find our ultimate redemption, and ultimate hope, in Jesus, and in the everlasting mercy and forgiveness of God. If God can hang in there through the ups and downs of the Hebrews, I'm quite certain He can hang in there with the least of us. It has been a comforting, and yet eye opening discovery. It makes me wonder how I can learn from those people of so long ago - learn to trust and be faithful, even when it is hard.
As I read about the plight of Israel, and learn more about the things they went through prior to the birth of Jesus, I am finding so many parts of the story I wasn't familiar with; levels of meaning that are deeper than the "Bible story" versions I remember. For instance, when Moses first goes to Pharaoh, he does not ask for his people to be set free from slavery entirely; he merely asks that they are allowed to leave for three days to worship God in the desert. And the various plagues God unleashed upon Egypt were calculated to attack the power of specific Egyptian deities, showing that He is the true God, not them. The entire Exodus story was not just a story of a people freed from a life of slavery; it is the story of God trying to wrestle his people from the grip of idolatry.
The ancient Hebrews were living in a world of pagan cultures. From their time amongst the Egyptians, to being surrounded by Canaanites, Philistines and others; to their time of exile amongst Babylonians and Assyrians, to being conquered by Greeks and Romans, the Hebrews were constantly living in and around cultures who had dramatically different beliefs, customs and practices. Time and time again, they veered from God's law, and took up the practices of their neighbors. In reading the scriptures, it is easy (at least for me), to wonder how it was that they slipped into idolatry so easily. How could they forget what God had done for them and abandon his ways, even in the face of danger and difficulty, even when they had prophets trying to guide their way? The very voice of God spoke to them on different occasions. They witnessed amazing miracles and clear signs of God's favor or disapproval.
But what one needs to remember is how different their life was supposed to be from their neighbors, and how difficult that must have been.
What has struck me, is how the story of the Hebrews and their pitfalls and trials, so mirrors the story of any one of us today. We may no longer be called to adhere to strict cultural laws that govern what we eat, maintain cleanliness, and how we worship God. But we are called to adhere to God's commands, and to live a life that is different from many around us. No longer are God's people living amongst pagan cultures such as the Egyptians, Assyrians or Greeks. We now live in world of secular idolatry. The new paganism that we are surrounded by is the secular culture of our day; a world in which many of the ways we, as Christians, are called to live are contrary to what we see around us. We are asked to set ourselves apart, and live differently. And like the ancient Hebrews before us, that's hard to do.
Instead of having to choose whether to adhere to the traditions and practices of our fathers, or worship the statue down the street, we have to choose whether to remain steadfast to the teachings of Jesus and the Church, or allow ourselves to be swept up in the tide of modern culture. It isn't easy to choose to live a life that is different from many of those around you; to hold fast to different beliefs and practices. To continue to go to mass, to pray, to stand up for what we believe to be right. Like the Hebrews before us, we are surrounded, in the midst of a mass of people who do not know God, or if they do, have chosen to reject Him. In the midst of this, we are asked to be different, to be faithful, to trust.
And the worst part is, when you read the Scriptures, you realize how terribly the Hebrews failed! They failed time and time again. God would send them instructions, and they would ignore them. God sent prophets, messages, even angels! And still, the Hebrew people seem almost fickle in their wavering from faithfulness to rejection of God's ways. The hope inherent in these stories is of course that God's mercy and forgiveness are always offered, if the people will be obedient and follow Him.
We know, 2,000 years later, that in Christ Jesus, we have forgiveness and redemption. We know the law was fulfilled in him, and we understand more of what it means to live according to God's law. And yet, like the Hebrews before us, we fail. Even when we believe, even when we try to dedicate our lives to God and live the way He wishes for us, we fail. We mess up. We aren't faithful. We don't trust. I know I don't, far more often than I really want to admit.
But again, like the Hebrews before us, we find our ultimate redemption, and ultimate hope, in Jesus, and in the everlasting mercy and forgiveness of God. If God can hang in there through the ups and downs of the Hebrews, I'm quite certain He can hang in there with the least of us. It has been a comforting, and yet eye opening discovery. It makes me wonder how I can learn from those people of so long ago - learn to trust and be faithful, even when it is hard.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Yoga pants
I just saw this funny ecard on Pinterest, and I totally relate:
But then I was all, wait a sec... I wear black yoga pants almost every day. To me, that IS getting dressed, and not in a funny "oh yeah, this phase of life means I'm a slob" way. I just wear them.
Granted, I get dressed up to go out (mostly). I'll throw on jeans if we have to leave the house (and yes, that does qualify as "dressing up," thankyouverymuch). And my very favorite fashion trend ever is the scarf. I can wear jeans and a plain t-shirt, tie a scarf around my neck, and suddenly I look all put together and stuff.
And don't get me started on my knee high boots. I hope that trend never goes away, ever.
But at home? Yoga pants. And honestly, why the heck not? I am not a fashion-y person. I like to look cute, but my fashion sense is really basic and I absolutely value comfort. So yoga pants, a t-shirt and an open cardigan over the top? Heck yeah. That's homeschool mommy finery right there. But I don't feel the least bit sloppy in them - I just feel comfy-cozy. And cute, gosh darnit. Those babies make my tushie look good :).
I guess the implication to the mom in yoga pants is that she no longer cares enough about herself to put effort into hear appearance; that she doesn't value her place in the world because she's spending all her time caring for little people, so what does it matter what she wears.
There is something to be said for putting care into your appearance. Doing something with my hair and putting on a little makeup go a long way to making me feel put together, presentable and pretty. And I do those things regularly. But when we're home, makeup or no, I like my yoga pants. I don't feel frumpy or sloppy in them - I feel just right, and silly internet meme or no, I'm sticking with 'em!
I'm counting this as one of the benefits of being a stay-home-mommy. Yoga pants for the win!
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| Of course it does - especially if you've showered first |
Granted, I get dressed up to go out (mostly). I'll throw on jeans if we have to leave the house (and yes, that does qualify as "dressing up," thankyouverymuch). And my very favorite fashion trend ever is the scarf. I can wear jeans and a plain t-shirt, tie a scarf around my neck, and suddenly I look all put together and stuff.
And don't get me started on my knee high boots. I hope that trend never goes away, ever.
But at home? Yoga pants. And honestly, why the heck not? I am not a fashion-y person. I like to look cute, but my fashion sense is really basic and I absolutely value comfort. So yoga pants, a t-shirt and an open cardigan over the top? Heck yeah. That's homeschool mommy finery right there. But I don't feel the least bit sloppy in them - I just feel comfy-cozy. And cute, gosh darnit. Those babies make my tushie look good :).
I guess the implication to the mom in yoga pants is that she no longer cares enough about herself to put effort into hear appearance; that she doesn't value her place in the world because she's spending all her time caring for little people, so what does it matter what she wears.
There is something to be said for putting care into your appearance. Doing something with my hair and putting on a little makeup go a long way to making me feel put together, presentable and pretty. And I do those things regularly. But when we're home, makeup or no, I like my yoga pants. I don't feel frumpy or sloppy in them - I feel just right, and silly internet meme or no, I'm sticking with 'em!
I'm counting this as one of the benefits of being a stay-home-mommy. Yoga pants for the win!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Saying goodbye and looking ahead
My aunt passed away on Christmas Eve, in the wee hours of the morning. My uncle held her close for countless hours, so sure each breath was her last and wanting to spend every last second with her in his arms. Her breath would whisper out, then stop and his tears would flow, only to be stopped by another breath, drawn anew. But she was gone, her body just didn't realize it yet. Finally, she breathed her last and her body was still.
We laid her to rest today. I've been to funerals before, a few for people quite close to me. I've lost all but one grandparent, and years ago I had to watch my husband bury his mother. Somehow I cried more tears today than I have ever cried over losing someone. I'm not sure why I was so overcome with emotion. I loved my aunt very much and I will miss her dearly. But she lived several hours away and I only saw her once or twice a year. I can't say we were close. Yet I shed so many tears today, my eyes are raw and my skin is blotchy.
Far more than for myself, I hurt for my uncle and their children. She was not yet 60 years old; she only lived to see her 59th birthday. So very, very young to have to say goodbye. Their children are only in their twenties; four people who had to say goodbye to their mother far too soon. I've seen the pain that causes; I lived through it with my husband. Every time I saw her husband bury his face in his hands, every gasp and sob I heard from my cousins, every tear they shed, sent a wave of grief through me. I was relieved that we chose to have my husband stay home with our kids; I wouldn't have wanted them to be upset, and would have kept my tears in today. It was good to let them go.
It sounds like such a cliche to say that you never know how much time you have, you need to be grateful, etc. But it is so very, very true. Our time here is so limited and we don't know when God will call us home.
Instead of making resolutions to eat better, or work out more or lose weight, I'm resolving this year to be more patient, more kind, more loving, and more nurturing to my family. I don't want my children to remember a mom who is grumpy, frustrated and out of sorts. I want us to forge good memories together; nurtured relationships, care and understanding.
I am not perfect and motherhood is messy and hard. But I will try harder. I will work to approach all things with love and care, devote myself to my relationships with my family and focus on love. Because In the end, love is all we really have.
We laid her to rest today. I've been to funerals before, a few for people quite close to me. I've lost all but one grandparent, and years ago I had to watch my husband bury his mother. Somehow I cried more tears today than I have ever cried over losing someone. I'm not sure why I was so overcome with emotion. I loved my aunt very much and I will miss her dearly. But she lived several hours away and I only saw her once or twice a year. I can't say we were close. Yet I shed so many tears today, my eyes are raw and my skin is blotchy.
Far more than for myself, I hurt for my uncle and their children. She was not yet 60 years old; she only lived to see her 59th birthday. So very, very young to have to say goodbye. Their children are only in their twenties; four people who had to say goodbye to their mother far too soon. I've seen the pain that causes; I lived through it with my husband. Every time I saw her husband bury his face in his hands, every gasp and sob I heard from my cousins, every tear they shed, sent a wave of grief through me. I was relieved that we chose to have my husband stay home with our kids; I wouldn't have wanted them to be upset, and would have kept my tears in today. It was good to let them go.
It sounds like such a cliche to say that you never know how much time you have, you need to be grateful, etc. But it is so very, very true. Our time here is so limited and we don't know when God will call us home.
Instead of making resolutions to eat better, or work out more or lose weight, I'm resolving this year to be more patient, more kind, more loving, and more nurturing to my family. I don't want my children to remember a mom who is grumpy, frustrated and out of sorts. I want us to forge good memories together; nurtured relationships, care and understanding.
I am not perfect and motherhood is messy and hard. But I will try harder. I will work to approach all things with love and care, devote myself to my relationships with my family and focus on love. Because In the end, love is all we really have.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Should Christmas be only for Christians?
Over the last couple of years, I've seen a sentiment amongst some of my fellow Christians that goes something like this:
"I wish non-Christians would just quit celebrating Christmas, since all they do is perpetuate consumerism and materialism, want me to quit saying "Merry Christmas" and take all the nativity scenes out of public places. They take one of the most important Christian holidays of the year and try to strip it of all true meaning and what we're left with is a whitewashed, meaningless, postmodern spend-fest."
Or something like that.
Since last year, when a friend of mine said something to the affect of the above on her Facebook page, I've thought about whether there should be some separation of Christian Christmas, and secular Christmas; or whether non-Christians should celebrate it at all. Should non-Christians, particularly the staunchly non-religious, leave our holiday alone? Should the solution to the "don't-say-Merry-Christmas-for-fear-of-offending-someone" attitude be to reclaim our holiday for ourselves, creating a marked separation between those who celebrate the birth of Christ in December and those who do not?
Personally, I say no. I don't think it would be better if non-Christians began to forgo the tree and lights and stories of Santa Claus; if they packed up their Elf on the Shelf and quit baking cookies and hanging up stockings.
Do many of the secular Christmas traditions and practices muddle our view of the real meaning of Christmas? Sure. Do I get annoyed at the idea of not telling people "Merry Christmas" because it might somehow offend someone? Yep. Is there far too much emphasis on the material side of Christmas? Probably. But I don't think the solution is to insist that Christmas is solely a Christian holiday and non-Christians ought to just leave it alone already. Let's not throw out the baby with the bathwater here.
In our culture, there is already a line drawn between Christians, and basically everyone else. Faith and the practice thereof is being pushed further and further into the margins, relegated to the corners of our lives, something not to be brought out except in certain company. The "us" versus "them" mentality is already too pervasive and threatens to create further divisions between those who believe and those who do not.
Rather than take back Christmas as a holiday not to be shared, why not graciously let the non-Christian partake in the feast of the birth of our Lord? Who knows what might come of the experience for some? Isn't it possible that a child might grow up celebrating even the most secularized version of Christmas, only to be curious someday as to where the holiday started? They might ask questions and it could be that maybe, just maybe, the magic and splendor of their Christmas celebrations will plant the tiniest of seeds in their heart. It could be one of many things that leads people to Jesus in the course of a lifetime, but an important one nonetheless.
This is not to say that I think people will grow up with the hustle and bustle and shopping and buying and spending and giving and it will somehow begin converting people en masse. But what if it opens the possibility, however small, for some?
I don't think the solution to rising secularism is to hunker down in our little church bubbles and insist the outside world stay out. I think if we, as Christians, begin pulling away from non-Christians, the divide between us will only grow wider and the opportunities to share our faith, even in the smallest of ways, will dwindle. Instead of perpetuating the us versus them mentality, let us lead by example, celebrating with our families and communities and model the true meaning of Christmas; let our actions carry our message to those around us. Who knows? You never know what small bit of kindness, what tiny bit of joy might touch someone's heart and Jesus only needs the tiniest crack in our soul to begin shining his light inside.
"I wish non-Christians would just quit celebrating Christmas, since all they do is perpetuate consumerism and materialism, want me to quit saying "Merry Christmas" and take all the nativity scenes out of public places. They take one of the most important Christian holidays of the year and try to strip it of all true meaning and what we're left with is a whitewashed, meaningless, postmodern spend-fest."
Or something like that.
Since last year, when a friend of mine said something to the affect of the above on her Facebook page, I've thought about whether there should be some separation of Christian Christmas, and secular Christmas; or whether non-Christians should celebrate it at all. Should non-Christians, particularly the staunchly non-religious, leave our holiday alone? Should the solution to the "don't-say-Merry-Christmas-for-fear-of-offending-someone" attitude be to reclaim our holiday for ourselves, creating a marked separation between those who celebrate the birth of Christ in December and those who do not?
Personally, I say no. I don't think it would be better if non-Christians began to forgo the tree and lights and stories of Santa Claus; if they packed up their Elf on the Shelf and quit baking cookies and hanging up stockings.
Do many of the secular Christmas traditions and practices muddle our view of the real meaning of Christmas? Sure. Do I get annoyed at the idea of not telling people "Merry Christmas" because it might somehow offend someone? Yep. Is there far too much emphasis on the material side of Christmas? Probably. But I don't think the solution is to insist that Christmas is solely a Christian holiday and non-Christians ought to just leave it alone already. Let's not throw out the baby with the bathwater here.
In our culture, there is already a line drawn between Christians, and basically everyone else. Faith and the practice thereof is being pushed further and further into the margins, relegated to the corners of our lives, something not to be brought out except in certain company. The "us" versus "them" mentality is already too pervasive and threatens to create further divisions between those who believe and those who do not.
Rather than take back Christmas as a holiday not to be shared, why not graciously let the non-Christian partake in the feast of the birth of our Lord? Who knows what might come of the experience for some? Isn't it possible that a child might grow up celebrating even the most secularized version of Christmas, only to be curious someday as to where the holiday started? They might ask questions and it could be that maybe, just maybe, the magic and splendor of their Christmas celebrations will plant the tiniest of seeds in their heart. It could be one of many things that leads people to Jesus in the course of a lifetime, but an important one nonetheless.
This is not to say that I think people will grow up with the hustle and bustle and shopping and buying and spending and giving and it will somehow begin converting people en masse. But what if it opens the possibility, however small, for some?
I don't think the solution to rising secularism is to hunker down in our little church bubbles and insist the outside world stay out. I think if we, as Christians, begin pulling away from non-Christians, the divide between us will only grow wider and the opportunities to share our faith, even in the smallest of ways, will dwindle. Instead of perpetuating the us versus them mentality, let us lead by example, celebrating with our families and communities and model the true meaning of Christmas; let our actions carry our message to those around us. Who knows? You never know what small bit of kindness, what tiny bit of joy might touch someone's heart and Jesus only needs the tiniest crack in our soul to begin shining his light inside.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Rounding up
Our best friends have two boys who are a few years older than our kids - 11 and 9. Well, technically I guess they are 11 1/2 and 9 1/2, since both have birthdays in April.
They stopped by this afternoon to bid farewell and wish us a Merry Christmas as they headed out to their week-long family Christmas a few hours away. Their oldest wandered in decked out in headphones, listening to something on his ipod. When it was time for them to go, their dad had to get his attention because, with his music playing, he didn't hear what was being said. The father made a comment along the lines of, "Yep, he's a teen."
No. No, he's not. Not quite. But his parents often refer to him that way, and I have to say, it drives me crazy.
He is on the threshold of that transition into the teenage years, standing on the brink of puberty. He's getting really tall, his shoes are almost as big as his dad's and he has his moments of "teen-ish" behavior.
But he still comes over and has nerf battles with my boys. He still builds things out of Legos and plays elaborate games of pretend. He still plays. I love that about him, and at 11 years old, he should.
I know that he's going to change. That there will come a time when he stops coming over to play with my boys, in favor of other things. There will come a time when girls aren't icky (they are firmly in the gross category, as are any movies or TV shows with kissing... ewwww!). There will come a time, all too soon, when he's moved beyond young childhood and entered the realm of his teenage years. I don't begrudge him that, nor am I in denial that he's getting older.
What bothers me is how often his parents, and I see other parents doing this too, how often they skip ahead in their language. They speak of him as if he's already 13 years old and sulking in a corner with his headphones, unreachable in his teenage angst. He's not. He's happy and fun and sociable and still so, so young. He's such a child and I fear that they are missing out on that; they're missing the last months of this phase of childhood in their eagerness for him to grow up.
Granted, as parents it is all too easy to succumb to that sentiment. We want to see our babies roll over, we encourage them to crawl, and we celebrate when they walk and say their first words. We delight in their growth, in their accomplishments and new skills. This doesn't end as they leave the baby and toddler years behind. We love to watch them learn and grow and try new things. All of that is wonderful, but there's a line that is crossed when the parents seem all too eager to jump ahead and place their child in the next phase before they are truly there.
A passing comment about him being a "teen" isn't the only thing that has prompted my musings on this topic. They, and other friends of mine, have said things that make me think they are watching their kids' childhoods go by with a sort of checklist, checking off the time and almost looking forward to its end. I doubt they would see it that way if confronted with the idea, but things they say still leave me with such an impression.
I guess I just don't know why people want to round up when it comes to their kids ages and stages. It gives the impression of being in a hurry to get this child-rearing business done, and that makes me a little sad. Enjoy each stage of their life for what it is and let it pass in its own time; they will be grown and gone all too soon.
They stopped by this afternoon to bid farewell and wish us a Merry Christmas as they headed out to their week-long family Christmas a few hours away. Their oldest wandered in decked out in headphones, listening to something on his ipod. When it was time for them to go, their dad had to get his attention because, with his music playing, he didn't hear what was being said. The father made a comment along the lines of, "Yep, he's a teen."
No. No, he's not. Not quite. But his parents often refer to him that way, and I have to say, it drives me crazy.
He is on the threshold of that transition into the teenage years, standing on the brink of puberty. He's getting really tall, his shoes are almost as big as his dad's and he has his moments of "teen-ish" behavior.
But he still comes over and has nerf battles with my boys. He still builds things out of Legos and plays elaborate games of pretend. He still plays. I love that about him, and at 11 years old, he should.
I know that he's going to change. That there will come a time when he stops coming over to play with my boys, in favor of other things. There will come a time when girls aren't icky (they are firmly in the gross category, as are any movies or TV shows with kissing... ewwww!). There will come a time, all too soon, when he's moved beyond young childhood and entered the realm of his teenage years. I don't begrudge him that, nor am I in denial that he's getting older.
What bothers me is how often his parents, and I see other parents doing this too, how often they skip ahead in their language. They speak of him as if he's already 13 years old and sulking in a corner with his headphones, unreachable in his teenage angst. He's not. He's happy and fun and sociable and still so, so young. He's such a child and I fear that they are missing out on that; they're missing the last months of this phase of childhood in their eagerness for him to grow up.
Granted, as parents it is all too easy to succumb to that sentiment. We want to see our babies roll over, we encourage them to crawl, and we celebrate when they walk and say their first words. We delight in their growth, in their accomplishments and new skills. This doesn't end as they leave the baby and toddler years behind. We love to watch them learn and grow and try new things. All of that is wonderful, but there's a line that is crossed when the parents seem all too eager to jump ahead and place their child in the next phase before they are truly there.
A passing comment about him being a "teen" isn't the only thing that has prompted my musings on this topic. They, and other friends of mine, have said things that make me think they are watching their kids' childhoods go by with a sort of checklist, checking off the time and almost looking forward to its end. I doubt they would see it that way if confronted with the idea, but things they say still leave me with such an impression.
I guess I just don't know why people want to round up when it comes to their kids ages and stages. It gives the impression of being in a hurry to get this child-rearing business done, and that makes me a little sad. Enjoy each stage of their life for what it is and let it pass in its own time; they will be grown and gone all too soon.
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