The weapon of peace

Parenting can feel like a battle. Whether it’s chores, homework, screen time, sibling dynamics, or just ‘the way his face looks’ the potential for conflict seems never ending. It’s so easy to get frustrated and take an adversarial stance against our children. Just a few days ago, I was feeling annoyed that our morning routine was getting derailed. Again. I found myself sighing in exasperation, rolling my eyes, and generally communicating to my child that he was the source of my irritation. My adversary. I managed to get them off to school (just a few minutes late) and I started thinking about what may have caused the rough morning. I remembered that I had spent a good chunk of the previous evening with one of the other kids, which likely left the derailer feeling left out and unloved. I found myself sighing again, in exhaustion this time, wondering how much longer I could continue to do battle against this invisible enemy, these voices in my child’s head whispering lies of unworthiness and impending rejection.

Thinking about our conflict as a spiritual battle got me to thinking about the armour of God Paul talks about in Ephesians 6. “For shoes,” he says, “put on the peace that comes from the Good News…” (v. 15). Hmmm… peace… that’s an interesting thing to take into battle. The more I thought about it though, the more it made perfect sense. When one of my children is feeling overcome by fear and shame, they don’t need me as an adversary, they need me as an ally. They need me to bring peace to help calm the chaos and confusion and pain in their minds.

Thankfully, I had a chance for a redo that afternoon. Conflict broke out over the use of Grandpa’s tools. Child A had had a long turn, and Child B was feeling jealous and left out. Rather than using good words to ask for a turn, unkind words were used and things got physical. Child B, likely ashamed by this point, escalated and had to be removed from the situation. Determined to behave better than I had that morning, I  stayed calm and stuck to a short script. “I’m not mad. You’ll get a turn with the tools. You’re not allowed to hurt people.” It took a few minutes (and a phone chat with Daddy) but we got to the point where an apology was given, respectful words were used to ask for a turn, and we were back on track. Peace won the battle!

Too often I respond to conflict situations with force. My weapons of choice often include sarcasm and shame. Lately, my ‘Voice of Authority’ has been a bit too shrill, and much too loud. So, in this season of ‘Peace on earth and goodwill to all’ I am going to be more intentional about bringing peace. Small adjustments to my body language and tone of voice bring great returns in conflict situations. My little people need to know that I’m there as their ally, not their adversary!

What's the point?

It was a typical morning in our house. I was keeping an anxious eye on the clock as I packed lunches and made sure the kids were getting dressed and eating their breakfast. The clock seemed to be speeding up as it got closer to 8:00, and I quickly realized that I would not have time to finish lunches. I explained to the kids that I would take them to school on time, then come home, finish their lunches, and drop them off at the office. One of the boys looked at me and said, "What's the point?" Not certain what he was getting at, and pretty sure "So you can eat!" was not the answer he was looking for, I asked, "What do you mean?" He replied, "What's the point of dropping off our lunches at the office if you're not even going to stay for a hug when I come to pick it up?" His response floored me. I had dropped off other things at the office in the past, and I had always left right away, partially because I thought it would be easier for them if they didn't see me. (Turns out it was mostly because it was easier for me.) I was glad he said something, as I had no idea he'd been carrying this hurt with him. I quickly assured him that I would wait for him so I could give him a hug, and I did.

His question got me thinking. As a mom, I'm prone to my fair share of "What's the point?!" moments. I grumble easily as I do my daily work - it's easy to wonder what the point of cleaning up is when it's all just going to get dirty again. What is the point of trying so hard to pack a lunch one of my guys will actually eat when most of it comes home untouched? What is the point of doing laundry when the one shirt someone can't go to school without is still dirty?  What's the point of putting in the extra effort to drop off lunches when the fact that I didn't stay for a hug is all that's remembered? What's the point of any of it when no one seems to notice, let alone show any appreciation? What's the point of showing love when the intended recipient doesn't seem to receive it?

I spent the better part of a day mulling over this last question, and I've been thinking about it off and on ever since. One of our kiddos has a difficult time resting securely in the knowledge of our love. And, to be honest, I grow weary of it. I get tired of pouring out, of making the effort to show love every day when I can't be sure if or how it will be received. The realization of my weakness, of my lack of desire to do the hard work of loving can lead to despair; I'm tempted to give up. What's the point?

But in these moments I am reminded of my relationship with my heavenly Father. How often do I forget that I am loved? How often do I not notice the countless ways He shows up for me, and then wonder why I don't feel Him near? And yet, He never stops loving me. He never gives up. He never writes me off as pointless, as not worth the effort. In His eyes, I am precious. Worthy. Worth dying for. As His love fills me up, I realize I can face another day of pouring out. His example teaches me that love is never wasted, and that the value of love is not in whether it is received or reciprocated. Love is not dependent on results, or on the worthiness of the recipient.

I still have many moments of wondering if it's worth it, if I even have what it takes to keep showing love. It's hard to persist when I don't seem to see any results. Perhaps, though, the results I need to concern myself with are in my own heart. Perhaps it is my willingness to persevere even when it's hard that is the result I should focus on. And perhaps it is when love seems least deserved that it's needed most desperately. As Paul reminds us in Romans 5:8, "God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners." Turns out love itself is the point.

Follow the Script!

I've always had a secret dream to be a famous Hollywood actress. Other than a few brief moments in the spotlight in church plays and a high school production, however, my acting career never really amounted to much! Maybe my love of theatre is part of why I'm drawn to the idea of scripts as a parenting tool... I get to produce, direct and star in my very own show!!

Seriously, though, I first learned about scripts in the parenting context when reading The Connected Child. The book includes a section with a list of 'Life Value Scripts.' These are positive ways to teach skills to our children that focus on practicing and praising the desired behaviour. Scripts such as "Gentle and kind" and "Show respect" encourage our children onto the right path. One of my favourite scripts when the kids were a bit younger was "Stick together" - an essential skill when venturing out in public with little ones. Come to think of it, we still practice this one whenever we cross a road!

One of my recent favourites is "With permission and supervision." I used this script one day with two of my kiddoes, who had been quiet upstairs for quite some time. Spidey senses tingling, I went to check on them, and found little piles of dog hair in their bedroom. As soon as they saw me, they hid their hands behind their backs and claimed they didn't know anything about it! I continued to gently pursue the truth, and they soon confessed to giving the dogs haircuts. Other than looking ridiculous, no harm had been done to the dogs, so I decided to try and keep things positive. (Besides, the fact that they tried to hide what they had done proved that they already knew they shouldn't have done it. No further teaching was required on that point!) I told them that sometimes I do trim the dogs' hair, but that in the future they would need permission and supervision in order to do it. They seemed relieved as they handed over the scissors and helped pick up the dog hair. The script had helped me to stay positive and focused on the desired behaviour, rather than reacting with negative emotions and an unnecessary lecture. And, because this is a script we use in other situations (lighting candles, handling tools, anything they can dream up that might involve hospitalization or an insurance claim...), I'm confident that they won't cut the dogs' hair without permission again!

Scripts are also beneficial in shaping my behaviour as a parent. We deal with our fair share of meltdowns and extreme behaviour, and many times we have come away from one of these episodes with the realization that our words did not help to de-escalate the situation. I was starting to get very frustrated as I found myself saying the wrong thing over and over in the heat of the moment. Try as I might, I couldn't stem the flow of harsh, punitive words. I kept lecturing and threatening consequences, driving my child further into destructive behaviour rather than offering a way out. My husband and I decided to give ourselves a script to use when one of our kids was out of control. We agreed on the following phrases:
I love you.
You're not in trouble.
Let me help you.
We still often say the wrong thing and make the situation worse. But when we focus on our script, things get resolved a lot sooner.

I recently came across a third way to use scripts in parenting. I've been reading Deborah Gray's book Attaching Through Love, Hugs and Play. At one point, she discusses the importance of entering into interactions with our children with a positive mindset rather than a grouchy and overwhelmed mindset. She shared how she would 're-set' her brain when she was driving home from work so that she wasn't bringing the stress of her job home. She would practice some relaxation techniques, then repeat a simple "mission statement" to herself. This statement focused on who she is and what she's about. A mission statement might remind us of how important our families are to us and what a privilege it is to be a parent. She describes them as "'big picture' descriptions [that] help us put things into perspective and to have more balanced brain patterns." (p. 74) I realized that I need a mission statement because I often enter challenging interactions with my kids feeling distracted, grouchy and overwhelmed. My self-talk in those moments is negative; I think about how unfair everything is, and what a failure I am... Our children pick up on our moods very quickly. If I'm being driven by frustration, resentment and shame, that's what I'll elicit in them. After reading this section in Gray's book, I decided to script my self-talk. Multiple times throughout the day, but especially when I'm starting to stress about certain behaviours or situations with the kids, I say this to myself:
I am deeply loved.
I'm a good mom.
Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I have the skills and strength I need to meet every situation with the joyful determination to be emotionally present, and to see the preciousness in my children.
As I speak these truths over myself, I feel fear and shame fade away, and strength and peace return.

Scripts are in no way a quick fix! Rather, they are a long-term discipline. Merriam-Webster's online dictionary offers a few definitions of 'script' but my favourite is "a plan of action." I like that because it acknowledges the link between our words and our behaviour. As we practice speaking words that are positive and focused on the behaviour that we want to see, we will see behaviour changed as a result. So let's be intentional with the words we use with our children (and with ourselves!) because our words have the power to transform our actions.

Faithfulness

I love weddings! My own wedding day was one of my favourite days of all time and, like many others, I tear up every time I watch a bride walk down the aisle. This past weekend, we had the privilege of attending the wedding of Brian’s oldest nephew. It was a lovely day! It is a little hard to believe that our nieces and nephews are actually old enough to do grown up things like get married, though. ;)

The most significant part of the day for me, however, was listening to the vows. Given the recent downturn in my mom’s condition, it was extremely difficult for me to drive away from Calgary to attend the wedding. I felt quite anxious about leaving, even for just a few days. Then, as I was listening to the vows, especially the ‘in sickness and in health’ part, all I could think about was how my parents are actually living this out right now. It was a heart-wrenching juxtaposition – in front of me, a youthful, fresh-faced couple, glowing with love, joy and eager anticipation of their life together, and in my mind’s eye, images from recent days of Dad helping Mom with the most basic tasks, like walking and getting dressed.

It got me thinking about faithfulness. Usually when we think about faithfulness in the context of marriage we equate it with not cheating on our spouses. I think it goes much deeper than that, though. It is choosing day after day, moment by moment, to love and cherish and respect each other. And when hard times come, it is choosing to love each other well no matter how difficult it is.

I have a tendency to put on a prickly shell whenever I’m dealing with tough emotional stuff. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been the easiest person to love this past week! But Brian has loved me faithfully by responding to my prickliness with gentleness and compassion. And it has been absolutely breathtaking watching my dad faithfully love my mom. He shows up in countless ways, day after day, meeting her needs with tenderness, never complaining. He told me today that he is so glad he made those vows nearly 45 years ago. Then he looked at my mom and said, with tears in his eyes, "And it's not even hard. It's not hard at all." Faithfulness is a beautiful thing!

One of my favourite lines from the wedding this past weekend went something like this: “No one gets to the mic at their 50^th wedding anniversary and says, ‘Well, that was easy.’” I’m only 11 years in to this marriage thing, yet I’ve lived this truth. Marriage is hard work. Those vows roll off our tongues almost effortlessly on our wedding day. Faithfulness, however, is not effortless. It means choosing to love in the middle of the really hard stuff, like cancer, but it also means choosing to love in the everyday hard stuff, like disagreeing on how best to discipline our kids, or manage our money. It means choosing to love and respect our spouses when we feel annoyed by their tastes and opinions, or even how they eat their cereal!

I am so grateful for the people in my life who are showing me what faithful love looks like. I am most grateful for my Heavenly Father who has loved me faithfully since before I was even born, and who shows up for me every day, in countless ways big and small.

Drowning/Rescued

It was the morning of Friday, June 19^th, and I was drowning in fear. Later that day, my mom would undergo surgery to partially remove a tumour from her brain, and I could not free myself from the overwhelming fear that I might never see her again. We had learned about the tumour just a few weeks earlier, and it felt like life was spinning out of control. Like many of us, I had always seen my parents as somewhat invincible. My dad has survived polio, heart disease, and cancer, and my mom has always been strong and healthy. Even before the diagnosis of cancer, I had felt an oppressive sense that something bad was about to happen. Sadness and fear had draped themselves over me, and I couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom. On the morning of her surgery I cried out to God, desperate for rescue. I prayed that He would help me to see Him.  Immediately, the image of a face filled my mind. I knew instantly that the Holy Spirit had broken through, because the fear was gone! I felt only peace, and the story of Peter walking on water with Jesus came to mind. I had been terrified and sinking, but Jesus had reached out and rescued me! In the middle of the storm, Jesus spoke to his disciples, saying, “Don’t be afraid. Take courage. I am here!” (Matthew 14:27 NLT) Throughout that day and the days that followed, I felt the Lord’s presence wrapping around me. A supernatural peace stayed with me as I hugged my mom at the hospital, and I was able to recognize that my fear that I would never see her again was based on a lie. I was reminded that even if she died, this was not the end because we share an eternal destiny in heaven.

We are very grateful for the good health Mom enjoyed after her surgery and during her treatments. One of her doctors even called her a ‘poster child’ for cancer treatment! She experienced only minimal side effects, and her MRI in October showed that the tumour was stable (not growing). When Mom and Dad left for Phoenix at the beginning of November, I assumed it would be a time of rest and rejuvenation for them. Shortly after arriving, however, Mom was diagnosed with shingles. The medication worked fairly quickly, and the shingles were clearing up, but Mom was weak and exhausted. We thought she was simply recovering from the shingles, but her condition worsened. By the time they arrived home at the end of November, she was having difficulty walking. On Tuesday of last week, Dad took her in to the hospital. After much testing, it was confirmed that the tumour is growing and she has been experiencing mild seizures. Thankfully, she was able to go home on Friday and has been resting more comfortably there than in the hospital. We are hoping the adjustments they’ve made to her medications will counteract her symptoms, and she has appointments in the coming days to discuss next steps in terms of further treatment.

Receiving this news has been extremely difficult, and I can feel the fear threatening to take over again. We do not know what the future holds, and the “what ifs” can be overwhelming… What if this is our last Christmas together? How do I even find joy this Christmas season? The thought of losing her is unbearable. All I can do when the waves of fear wash over me is reach for my Saviour’s hand. And every time I am reminded that He is with me. No matter what the future holds, He is with me. There is no room for fear in the presence of such perfect love, and I am deeply grateful!

(taken Mother's Day, 2015, weeks before Mom's diagnosis)

What do you need?

I took the kids camping all by myself this summer. Actually, a friend was there with her kids, and we were at a campsite in a town, but still…! Any time I tackle something like that without Brian, I’m going to consider it a major accomplishment! Anyway, the first night was a little rough. One of the boys was taking a long time to settle down, and I was starting to panic. I still had a bit of unpacking to do and I was already dreading the early wake-up I knew I’d have to face the next morning. In an effort to practice trust-based parenting, I kept asking my son, “What do you need?” Every time I asked, he would reply, “Exercise!” and start bouncing around. At this point, my trust-based parenting skills fell apart, because I would then say, “No, you don’t. You need sleep. Now settle down and close your eyes.” We must have had this exchange half a dozen times, and both of us were getting frustrated. Meanwhile, I was also texting Brian, hoping he would have some wisdom and perspective for me. When I mentioned that our son was claiming to need exercise, he texted back with, “So why don’t you let him go outside for 5 minutes?” Exasperated, but willing to try anything, I asked if he wanted to help me unload the cooler contents into the fridge. He jumped at the chance (literally) and within 10 minutes the work was done. Within another 10 minutes, he was asleep. Why did I argue with him for so long?!

As part of our Empowered to Connect training, we teach the importance of meeting our kids’ needs. We discuss how crucial it is to faithfully meet their needs if we want to build trust, and we encourage parents to give joyful yeses whenever they can. We highlight the fact that “What do you need?” is a much more helpful and productive question than “What’s your problem?” or “What’s wrong with you?” I wonder, though, if we neglect to cultivate an attitude of true curiosity within ourselves. When I’m asking my children to tell me what they need, I’m usually pretty sure I already know the answer. At best, I’ve got a short list of acceptable answers in mind. When their response doesn’t match my preconceived ideas, I feel suspicious of them. I wonder if they’re taking the whole thing seriously, and I may even argue with them. Sometimes, I find myself dismissing their needs because they are actually just wants, and I want to get down to the true underlying need. But what if my child doesn’t even know what he really needs in that moment? What if meeting their expressed needs gives them the freedom and ability to trust me with their actual needs?

I believe that if we want to build trust and effectively meet our kids’ needs, we have to honour what they’re telling us. If we approach the conversation with a dismissive “I know better than you” attitude, they’re not going to believe that their voice matters, and they’re not going to trust us to meet their needs. Meeting their needs teaches them that they have a voice, and that they can trust us.

Jesus models this so well for us! In Luke 18, we read of an encounter he has with a blind man. The man is shouting as Jesus and his entourage go by, trying to get the Lord’s attention. People around Jesus are trying to shush the man, but Jesus insists on speaking with him. When the man is brought to him, Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Luke 18:41 NLT) I love how Jesus takes the time to give this blind beggar a voice, approaching his need with gentleness and curiosity. There’s not a hint of arrogance or presumption. How beautiful! Of course, when the man responds with, “I want to see!” he is healed. Jesus could have healed him without that bit of dialogue, but I believe this is an important glimpse into God’s heart – he wants us to know we can trust him with our needs and desires. He invites us into relationship by encouraging us to speak our needs: he gives us voice. And when we do trust him and bring our needs to him, there is no ridicule; we are not dismissed. Instead, we are heard. We are seen. And we learn to trust.

This is the attitude I want to bring to my conversations with my children – a genuine curiosity to hear what they have to say, and a willing heart ready to meet their needs.

Comet

Like a comet

Orbiting away from the sun

Sluggish and slow

Burdened with dust and ice

In darkness, alone

The anger and disappointment that drove me here give way to fear 

Then I turn my face towards the Son

I am drawn to Love -

A gravitational pull like no other

The baggage I've been carrying is burned away

And the light of his glorious presence sets my heart ablaze