Home Base: Covered

When I was a young teenager I was a target for the mean kids. I was the new girl in school and just entering junior high. Where I came from, we didn't dress like the kids at my new school. Instant geek. I tell you this not for pity, it was a long time ago. I tell you this because of a friend I spoke to today and what she said to me.

Those mean kids teased me a lot and I spent two years wondering what I could do, even trying some things, to make them like me. I wish I had liked myself enough not to bother changing for them, but I didn't.

After two years, a new girl came to school. She was beautiful and nice and funny. We became fast friends and lived close to each other. The mean kids (most of them) liked her. Suddenly I was a bit more acceptable because of her. But she never bothered with them, she was my friend and she didn't care about the mean kids. She was nice to them, but she never ditched me because I wasn't cool in their eyes.

Well, that was 33 years ago. My friend doesn't live near me anymore. And our plans to raise our children together, have coffee regularly, coax our husbands to become buddies, and everything else changed when she moved to another state 12 years ago. I miss her - a lot.

We talk on the phone often and see each other not often enough. But she has never lost the space of affection in my heart because, when the other girls didn't like me because I wasn't good enough for them, she liked me just the way I was.

I've grown up and changed. I've learned to be me no matter what. Or at least to remind myself to be me no matter what. But there is something deep down inside of me. It is a scar left by my wounds of inadequacy, feeling unacceptable. I don't think you can suffer teasing for two years and come away unscathed. I only notice it when I feel that way again.

Five years ago I moved to a new town for about the tenth time in my life. Oh-oh. New girl again. It didn't bother much at first, it has been a busy time in life with my kids. But in the last year I've had some friendship deficiencies. Again. Rejection. Ouch. I can feel that scar.

I called my out-of-state friend today, just to say "Hello." She can always hear hurt in my voice. I told her about my feelings of not fitting in. Struggling with friendships. I said (in my ever dramatic way), "Maybe the only friend the Lord wants me to have around here is my husband."

Her voice brightened at my comment and she said, "Hey, that's important. You've got home base covered. That's huge!"

Here I've been feeling 13 again. Here I've been letting the struggles of relationships shove me over like a bully on the playground. Her statement, my old, faithful friend, cut me to the core.

I have a wonderful husband. He's not wonderful because he is perfect. I gave up hoping for that years ago. He's wonderful because he loves me for who I am. He doesn't care if I don't dress right. He loves me. He doesn't care if I'm awkward and emotional sometimes. He loves me. We have a good marriage. And our kids! They are teens (need I say more) but we have a lot of fun together as a family. We talk and laugh. We spend time together. We have bonfires and movies and go to church together. I feel safe here. With them. Home base. I've got it covered. She was right.

ENCOURAGEMENT: If you've got home base covered, count it as a blessing. If you don't, make it your goal. Relationships inside the walls of your home are #2 priority (God first!).

Somewhere Between Permissive and Oppressive

My husband and I are engaged in the daunting task of raising two teenagers at the moment. It is so much different from the baby and toddler years, which are physically exhausting. It is also very different from what I like to call the "grace period" of elementary school years, when the kids are less hands-on work and still eager to please. Teens are more mentally exhausting, I think. Maybe it is because I feel them leaving me, little by little.

Lately my hubby and I have talked a bit about restrictions and freedoms for our teens. What helps us as we grope through these challenging years is observing other families. Sure, we have some rules of our own, and we certainly are making mistakes we don't even realize, but we want to raise healthy, happy, and most of all moral people. We need help!

I find it important to give teens the right amount of freedom, somewhere in-between permissiveness and oppression. I have heard it said that either extreme can encourage rebellion in young people and, from what I have observed, I agree. Too much freedom and no boundaries is a really bad idea. It doesn't even make sense to me that one would allow children to live without rules and simply do as they please. Who lives in that sort of environment in the grown up world? I suppose that answer may be found somewhere in a prison cell or a rehab center.

But oppression can be just as damaging. It seems that oppression either breaks the spirit of a child or causes them to rebel, even if it is only inwardly, in the heart. And, when they are old enough to break away from the oppressive situation, they will. Not only that, they will sometimes do all the things that were taboo at one time. So what is a parent to do?

Obviously I am no authority on answering that question for anyone but my own children. They are my responsibility. It is my duty to raise them in the way they should go. But I do think that either extreme, permissiveness or oppression, is a reaction to fear.

Permissiveness may be a fear they will not have fun, fear they will miss out, fear they will not fit in, fear they will resent the parent for rules. Oppression may be a fear they will make a mistake so big it will change their lives, fear we will lose control, fear that all we hoped and dreamed for them will not come true. Fear that they will somehow be ruined.

Well, I understand those fears. I've battled them myself. And my kids aren't perfect. They have made mistakes and I am certain they will make more. Maybe even life-changing mistakes. It is not my hope, just a reality of what we humans are capable of.

I think the bottom line is this: We are called to raise and train our children to do what is right in the eyes of God. However, they are no different than us: flawed, prone to do wrong, in need of a Savior. So I take a stand against the fear that can lead me to give my children too much freedom. And I take a stand against the fear that could drive me to rule with an iron fist.

Maybe, just maybe, my kids will learn to live according to the rules we have set forth in our home because we make them out of love, not fear. And maybe they will be happy. Hopefully they will be moral. Certainly they will be very much like me and my husband. Flawed.

My greatest hope for them is that they will be changed by God and not by rules, knowing they can make mistakes and still be loved. Lured into goodness by the love of a Savior, not the chains of a law. Free.

ENCOURAGEMENT: If you are a parent, examine your motivation in raising children in regard to freedoms and rules. Are they a result of fear or love?

Heeding Words of Wisdom

Lately I have been reading the Bible in the book of Proverbs. The Proverbs are intended for giving wisdom, knowledge, understanding to those who heed its words. Not everyone is willing to listen to wisdom. I'm certain there have been times in my life where I fit the description of someone who is unwilling to listen.

I heard a saying some years back that I find funny and sad at the same time. It goes: "Wisdom comes with age but sometimes age comes alone." It's funny, no? But it is like one of those sitcoms that are on in the evening. Funny, but not in real life.

I learned a long time ago that the right kind of wisdom comes from God. Other forms of so-called wisdom are unreliable at best. We people love to come up with things that sound good, but don't take us very far. I'd personally rather rely on wisdom that is divine, not fickle advice that man provides one day and changes his mind about the next.

Accepting God's wisdom as divine and true can bring great joy. However, it can also cause a great deal of discomfort, even pain. The reason is it sheds light on my own, human shortcomings. Sound like a recipe for self-condemnation? No, on the contrary it leads me to trust in God even more. Why would I want to believe in someone who is like me? Flawed, fickle, changing. My God is above anyone or anything in this world. I find great comfort in that.

This morning I found myself in a Proverb. It was in chapter 19, verse 2. It reads: "It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way." Shazam! That Proverb is talking about me! What I get from it is this: Zeal is enthusiasm (not a bad thing) and knowledge is, of course, understanding about a person or event. But to have zeal without knowledge and taking action on an event or with a relationship without seeing a clear picture of the truth is foolish. It causes one to miss "the way." The way, as I see it, is God's plan in the situation.

Here's the deal. I sometimes find myself in a situation that seems exciting  new, challenging. I jump right in. Or, I meet someone new and think they are just great. Instant trust, instant relationship. Wow! What a jam I can end up in. I run ahead of God's plan in the situation. Maybe there wasn't even a plan there for me to begin with. Sigh.

I talked with a friend about it and asked, "How do I make myself stop being so compulsive, stop running ahead with things." She gently and lovingly responded, "I think it's a huge step to even identify this in yourself."

Here's what I'm taking away with this information. I am blessed to have identified this problem with such clarity. I could be self-condemning and hard on myself (another shortcoming), but I won't. I will thank God and seek His wisdom in the matter. After all, I'm human and I suffer from the same problem the rest of the human race suffers from: imperfection.

ENCOURAGEMENT: Don't beat yourself up for your shortcomings. Acknowledge them, work on them, trust God to help you.

Moody Weather

Sometimes human emotions can be like the weather in Minnesota: a real rollercoaster ride. This spring began with January-like weather that would not let up. Then, as the snow persisted, Minnesotans displayed an overabundance of one of our greatest pastimes: complaining about the weather. One day my teenage daughter came home from school and exclaimed, "Even the boys are complaining about the weather!" Imagine!

The ice was not out on many northern lakes for fishing opener. To make matters worse, it snowed on my still brown lawn the morning of opener. Big, fluffy, white flakes. That was just four days ago. Today we are forecasted to reach 90 degrees. What? Isn't that more like Fourth of July weather? Who can cope with such extremes?

My biggest problem is I don't know what to wear. This morning as I left the house, I had on sandals and a T-shirt. I heard the weather report and I wasn't about to roast. At the last minute I noticed, however, the clouds accumulating in the sky so I grabbed a jacket. Now, as I sit in the coffee shop and watch the rain drizzle down, I am glad I did. It's still a bit chilly. Will we really hit 90?

I've been feeling a bit like the weather lately. All in one day I can be frigid and icy, then sunny and warm. Is it middle age? Perhaps. I think my patient husband stopped wondering long ago. Usually he smiles and waits for the clouds to pass. Other days he grabs his imaginary umbrella in case there's an oncoming shower of tears. And, while my hubby has his own set of emotions, I'm glad they aren't as extreme as a Minnesota spring.

My Mother

With Mothers Day just a few days away, I have been thinking about what to get my mom. My usual is a plant. Who doesn't love to have a new flowering plant in the spring? Perhaps I could buy her some candy. She likes licorice. Must be her Finnish heritage. She's 100% Finnish. I'm only half. When I was a kid, I thought it was really cool that my mom is 100% something. I still do.

She's also 100% something else. She's 100% great as a mom. I'm not going to say she is perfect as humans go - nobody is. I'm not going to say she didn't have shortcomings and never made me mad, sad, or frustrated. She did. But she is, in my opinion, the best mom I could have hoped for.

My mother never made me feel as if I wasn't enough. That is a rare find in this world. The thing is, though, I didn't find her. She's a gift. She was given to me as my mother and if I had the choice, I wouldn't change her for all the gold in the world. I'd rather be poor with my mom than rich with another.

If this sounds a little Pollyanna to you, well - too bad. I didn't always feel this way. I had my years of blaming my mom for some things and focusing on her flaws over what a blessing she had been in my life. When I was a teen and I'd get ready for some party or event, she always said I looked "fine." It made me crazy. I wanted "great" or "beautiful." But, right or wrong, she said "fine."

When I had my own daughter and she offered me a spot of criticism, I just about went off the deep end. I don't even remember what the circumstances were. Most likely it was something I needed to hear.

But my mom has a quality that I have needed most in my life, to love me unconditionally. She loved me when I disobeyed her. She loved me when I hurt her with my snotty, teenager words. She loved me when I forgot how special she is. She loved me when I acted as if I knew so much more than her (I never have and I doubt I ever will). She just loves me.

What about your mom? She isn't perfect either. She makes mistakes. But look beneath the human flaws we all carry around and you will see the things she has done to make the world a better place for you.

ENCOURAGEMENT: Thank your mom for something you have never thanked her for before. If your mom is gone, thank someone who has stood in her place.