tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29248053022462920462024-03-05T04:14:30.648-06:00Nadia's BlogThinking it through while it happens before me...Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.comBlogger319125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-49738661472193298562014-12-03T10:17:00.001-06:002014-12-03T10:17:53.889-06:00Thinking Through Christmas: The Frivolity of The List<div>
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I love this time of year. I love wonder of it all, the joy we can find, the traditions that have become a structure upon which our family hangs our memories. I love the pictures, some many years old, that can still just make me smile. </div>
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There is so much good to be found here. So much truth and hope. If we can wade through the craziness that Christmas can bring, we can find ourselves sitting in the midst of such good. </div>
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Though sometimes, this is not where we land. </div>
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Every year around November, my speaking calendar fills up. I have a Christmas talk that I love to give and so this busyness always makes me smile. The talk offers practical tips to help us connect to the true meaning of Christmas and to minimize the commercialism that annually runs rampant through the holiday season. <div>
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Toward the end of the talk, I address <i>THE LIST.</i> </div>
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You know the one. The wish list that our children want to create that holds not only the things they want, but also every.single.thing they have ever heard of. The list that is handed to you, perhaps to mail to Santa, that will leave you feeling overwhelmed, underpaid, and down-right depressed. There is a sense of deep accomplishment that flows over children who have created an especially </div>
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and a feeling of anticipation that comes with believing that magically all these gifts will appear beneath their Christmas tree. Often, THE LIST holds items you have previously denied your children, items that go against your family's belief systems, and items that far exceed realistic budget constraints. </div>
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And yet we allow them to write The List. </div>
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Annually. </div>
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I have spent a bit of time in local stores over the past weeks and often found myself surrounded by parents pushing store carts through toy aisles filling them with a wide selection of random toys. I have overheard parents asking one another how they will pay for all these toys, whether any of it is needed and why this item or that item even made The List.</div>
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<i>And yet the items are added to the cart.</i></div>
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And I am left wrestling with these questions:</div>
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1. Why do we do this crazy thing? Would we ever, at any other time of year, hand our children a piece of paper and offer them the opportunity to request all the things they have ever heard of? Maybe this all sounds Scrooge-y to you. And that's okay. But please know that I adore the holiday season and work hard at making it meaningful for my family. My children DO request and receive gifts. But we do not do The List. We do not do it because it feels offensive to me. It seems to me that something about this practice could foster a deep sense of entitlement and commercialism that do not belong at Christmas. If we think about the <i>meaning</i> behind all these decorations and celebrations, the practice of creating The List does not belong. Which leads me to my next question... </div>
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2. What are we teaching our kids? It seems I keep asking this question of myself... but it feels important and I want to think it through. I just cannot look past the fact that this season offers us a time to really help our children understand what it means to be loved. This season can help them (and us) come to a deeper understanding of what true sacrifice looks like. This season can help us all to look outside ourselves and see the world the way God sees it... beautiful, broken, in need. As we enter the holiday season, I do not want to be distracted by what current culture tells me is important about Christmas. Yes, I want to have fun and find myself lost with my children in the wonder of it all. But, I also want to SEE. I want to see how deeply God loved and loves me. And you. And our kids and the whole of His creation. I want to reconnect to the miracle that happened which eventually allowed us draw closer to God in brand new ways. In this season, when the gritty truth of the Nativity offers us an invitation to glimpse true love, I want to daily draw near and take in the scene. I want to take the hands of my babies and pull them near so they can see, as well. This picture sits at the center of everything we hold dear. The birth of Christ child was more than the delivery of God unto this earth. It was <i>and is</i> the delivery of Hope. And I need that hope. Don't you? </div>
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As we come into this holiday season, we have the opportunity to be mindful of the lessons we are offering our families. Those lessons will be found in the words we speak, those carefully chosen and those mistakenly set free. Those lessons will be found in what we choose to do and what we set aside. Those lessons will be found in the practice of giving, receiving, requesting. This season has everything to do with each of these but creating a traditional Christmas list may muddy the waters of understanding leaving us unable to comprehend what any of that means. </div>
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This season has nothing to do with rampant requests and uncontrolled commercialism. It has nothing to do with The List. This is a season of anticipation and hope. Reveling in the fun and frivolity that surrounds us can certainly add to the wonder of the days ahead. <i>But let's not lose our way</i>. Again and again, day after day, take the hands of the little ones near you and help them to see the truth, the hope, the love that sit at the center of the holiday season. </div>
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Christmas began with a single meaningful gift that literally changed the history of the world. Celebrating this miracle with a flood of meaningless presents can cheapen the truth of this season. But if we seek to continually draw close to the manger, to see what was given to us, and to include an exchange of meaningful gifts as an extension of our understanding of the gift that we were given, we are using even the presents beneath our tree to teach our children something about the wonder of unexpected (and fully undeserved) blessings. </div>
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In this way, we may find ourselves unwrapping a gift we can keep. </div>
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-84649328700194329222014-10-20T10:48:00.000-05:002014-10-20T10:48:30.578-05:00What Are We Teaching Our Kids? <br />
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At a recent soccer game, I found myself walking through a crowd of young families. There were children running, playing, cheering, crying. On one end of the field, I noticed a small group of little girls sitting calmly on a blanket. They were all facing one another and each held a baby doll in the crook of her right arm. There were extra blankets between them, baby bottles, toys. <br />
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As I walked past this idyllic scene, I noticed something that nearly made me weep. Babies in their right hands, each little girl held a<i> toy cell phone</i> in their left. They sat in the same position, "pretzel legs", cradling baby, talking on the phone. Not one gazing at the infant. Not one chatting with the child on her side. <br />
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It broke my heart. <br />
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How have we allowed ourselves to come to this place? How have we allowed ourselves to teach young children that it is enough to hold a baby, but not even look their way? Is it really okay with us that this is what normal looks like to them? <br />
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As a young mom, I had a cell phone, too. It really only made calls and it sat in a basket near the door so that I could grab it as I went out to run errands or take a walk. I cannot recall ever looking at my phone while I rocked my babies. But I do recall a lot of other things...<br />
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I recall the look of the top of Noah's head as he nursed. That boy was bald until he was two! When his hair grew in, it was so blonde that it nearly matched his skin, turning invisible when it was wet. <br />
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I recall that in the midst of all Benjamin's blonde curls, he had one or two black wisps of hair that grew right on the top of his head. I remember that he was a power-nurser, too busy to want to linger still but always eager to eat. <br />
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I recall long minutes with Josiah in my arms while I watched the older boys playing nearby. I remember how he would curl into me when I rocked him, forming his little self like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly against my chest. <br />
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I recall wondering at the miracles that had to occur for Elizabeth to find her way home. Born in China, I remember being stunned, again and again, that God's perfect plan made it possible for me to hold my baby girl and look into her almond eyes.<br />
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Hundreds and thousands of seconds and minutes spent staring at my babies in my rocking chair. I studied them, every inch of their tiny selves. And I spoke and I listened and I rocked and I waited and I saved up time <i>that I get to keep</i>. In that season of mothering, I felt like I would sit in that chair with a baby in my arms forever. And yet, one day, I rocked each one for the last time. I do not know what day that was... it happened and then they got down and we grew into a new part of life... a loss I never saw go but one I feel still. <br />
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Yet this I know for sure, children learn what we teach them. I believe this to be true. And those little girls on the side of that soccer field are learning that this is what mommas do. Mommas use their phones while they hold their babies. And it just breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that they believe that taking care of a baby has to do with holding them but not gazing at them, not singing to them, not talking to them gently. It breaks my heart that they have gotten the message that technology is somehow a part of rocking a newborn. Because it is not. <i>Truly</i>.<br />
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Technology has come to offer us many opportunities. There is so much good. But, it also brings great distraction. And some of the things we are distracted from, I know we will come to miss. As a mom of four children, growing up way to quickly, I know in brand new ways the value of those minutes and hours I spent holding my little ones. The details of their very selves are stored up for me and feel like treasures that no one can take. Watching them grow into the people they are becoming has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. And no one gets to see it from the perspective I hold. No one else has held my babies and nursed them and rocked them and watched them as I have. I am left with a lifetime of powerful memories that layer one upon the next. These pictures flash before me in the most unexpected moments... when Noah smiles big, when Benjamin laughs, when Josiah lays a hand gently on my arm, when Elizabeth leans her head against my shoulder. All of a sudden, I see it all again. A lifetime of seconds brought back to me anew. Treasures, indeed.<br />
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Yes, children learn what we teach them. And what we are teaching may need to change. Our children need to be seen, need to be studied in love. They need to feel noticed, cherished, adored. And none of this comes out of our rocking a baby in the crook of one arm while we regularly stare at the phone in our left. And perhaps this comes off as judgmental... but I am really not sure that I care. Because maybe we need to judge ourselves a little more harshly. Maybe we need to raise the bar just a little bit or remind ourselves that even when we are tired, and even when it feels like we have rocking babies for way too long, <i>they still need us</i>. Not just our arm. Not just the rocking chair. But US. Our gaze, our attention, our maternal ability to store up the details of the children we have been entrusted to raise. We are needed... and so maybe we need to let that settle in a bit and take a good look at what we are teaching and then make a careful change.<br />
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I know I can do better. <br />
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Those little girls just reminded me that I should. <br />
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Blessings on your day.Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-84196831908087090132014-10-09T12:58:00.001-05:002014-10-09T12:58:32.703-05:00Momentous<br />
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When my oldest turned 13, I spent the day at home, teary, afraid I would lose my boy to teenage turmoil. Somehow, I let myself believe the lie that there is no hope to be found teens today, that they are all selfish and dangerous and sullen. <br />
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All of which was untrue. <br />
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What I learned, and I speak about this now, is that the 13 year old you raise is the same 3 year old you taught and played with and loved. It is the same child whose laugh you know, whose gifts you respect, whose life has been lived alongside yours for so many years. And, I now know, that all the work you put in at age 1 and 11 and 13 really matters because your child knows that you are invested in them and their growth and development. That work of love builds a connection, a life-long relationship, that can, not only withstand the teen years, but flourish within them. <br />
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I was foolish to think that a birthday would take my boy from me. <br />
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And I am clinging to that lesson today. <br />
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The lessons found in his thirteenth birthday feel like a lifetime ago. Tonight is soccer Senior Night for my son and I am stunned to think that we have so quickly arrived at this point.<br />
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A part of me, the part that wept at home on the day he became a teen, is approaching this day with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. On some level, it feels like a loss. A lifetime of soccer games behind us, his time on that field is finishing. It is the beginning of so many lasts in the midst of a life that has celebrated so many firsts. And on a day as momentous as today, those firsts just keep washing over me again and again and again. Precious memories of all that he has learned to do flash quickly past as he smiles, runs his hand through his hair, shares a story, kicks a ball. Ordinary moments inextricably linked to a lifetime of experiences that I got to share with my son. <br />
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There is a sadness to it. <br />
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<i>A sadness I intend to set aside.</i> <br />
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Because, I am deeply aware that the moments I have mourned in the life of my boy have often led to amazing new things. He turned 13 and became even more of the man who stands before me today. In the years since that momentous birthday, he discovered a passion for math and science and that has brought him to a place where he is painting a bright future for himself today. After he turned 13, he grew in his abilities, his independence, his faith. And it has been my privilege to watch this happen in our home.<br />
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What was I thinking on his thirteenth birthday, mourning what would never occur?<br />
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Tonight, we will celebrate my son. The parents of the seniors will take the field, (a place my boys have warned me to never step should they fall injured in the midst of a game) and we will share that sacred space with our son on one arm and flowers in the other. Someone will read a bit about his accomplishments and we will smile and I will try not to cry because the truth is, this experience is something more complex than sad. <br />
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It is the beginning what comes next. <br />
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And it is a time to celebrate how amazing <i>this part</i> has been. <br />
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Because it <i>has</i> been amazing. He first took that field as a freshman on varsity, 100 lbs soaking wet and in the midst of growth spurt that began just in time. He made that team with friends who had played together for years, each knowing the strengths and weaknesses of the others. As each season began, he learned to take the hits, play fast and fun, rely on his teammates and fight to the goal. He found value in selfless passes and was grateful when he landed his shot. My boy found joy in playing when life was perfect and he found perseverance to continue when things fell apart. He celebrated with teams that could not lose and grew discouraged with others that could not win. This year, he got to play alongside his little brother, offering the same give and go they have practiced for a lifetime in our own yard. And he has donned his uniform more times than I can count over the past 4 years, always nodding at me in the stands as I desperately tried to stay warm... or dry... or cool in the autumn extremes.<br />
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We got to live this together! And, he has stored up four years of experiences that are marked by his effort, his friends, his love for this great game. <br />
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And it is good. <br />
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So, I don't know what next year looks like. But that is not a question for today. On this one night, I want to remember to learn from my mistakes and not mourn a loss that may not come. I want to mark this night with a smile on my face knowing that my son has come a very long way and gained so much wisdom and has truly used this time to grow into the man he is. And, the truth is, we've had fun. <br />
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It is not sad, you see? <br />
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Instead, Senior Night can be an opportunity to revel in the joy of being his momma and the wonder found in watching him grow. It is a chance to stand by his side and celebrate these good years and all the memories he made.<br />
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Yep, I choose <i>that.</i> <br />
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Because what is to come might be different, but life with my boy has taught me that different is not bad. It can, in fact, mark the beginning a new and amazing path.<br />
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This, I am eager to see...<br />
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Blessings on your day.<br />
Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-62564884741257637172014-09-11T11:30:00.000-05:002014-09-11T11:35:37.037-05:00Blog Rewind: The Way it Happened for Us<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">:::Each year, I post our experiences from September 11. This is the day, as I remember it, thirteen years ago:::</span></i></div>
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Noah was four. Benjamin was almost three. I had MOMs Group that morning and was trying desperately to get ready for the opening meeting of our season. The boys were watching Blue's Clues and I was trying to run a brush through my tangled tresses while answering the phone ringing with requests from freshman college students for keys and ideas and notes about classes. We were living at Trinity Christian College then, our family of four, as residence directors of South Hall.<br />
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I was later than I should have been and needed to get to church. I almost didn't answer the phone but thinking better of ignoring a call, I grabbed it and ran to the back to find shoes for my day. It was Mark. </div>
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"Is the TV on?" he asked.</div>
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"The boys are watching Blue's Clues..." </div>
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He said, "Nadia, we have been attacked. You have to turn on the news. Something bad is happening."</div>
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I don't remember hanging up but I remember turning the channel and looking at my boys... those little blond heads... those bright, wide eyes. I saw it then. So did they. The look on Diane Sawyer's face. The tone of Peter Jennings voice. The buildings. The airplanes. We stood still, the three of us and I suddenly thought that I needed to protect my boys. </div>
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I took them by the hands and led them to their toys. I turned off the sound on the TV and read through the captions instead. I tried to process it all, tried to think, tried to figure out what you do when this happens. <em>I had no idea</em>.</div>
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Working on a college campus is a complicated thing. I had a responsibility that morning to my babies playing with blocks<em> and</em> to the 250 freshmen students who lived in my building. Our building did not have cable and they were in class. Somehow they would have to be told what had happened to their country and without knowing exactly what to say, I typed a sign that we would hang in the building to help them to know that something had changed... that something had happened... that what we thought we were, where we thought we lived, how safe we felt, had all become something incredibly different. I did not save that document on my computer. I wish I would have. I know that I typed something about a terrorist attack in New York. I know that I tried to be calm and clear and follow Peter Jennings lead of giving only the information we actually knew. It suddenly felt like we knew nothing at all. </div>
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After posting the signs on every door in South Hall, I left quickly for church and the MOMs Group I helped to run. It was our opening morning. The boys were uncharacteristically quiet on the drive and I put the radio on only in the front of our truck. As I drove, a building fell. On the radio, they announced that several other airplanes were still "missing" and that they had no idea what to expect. I called Mark from the truck. He worked downtown Chicago in a building that is part of our skyline. </div>
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"Come home." I said. </div>
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He told me that he was not sure he would be allowed to leave and I pleaded with him explaining that he really might not be safe. He talked about job security. He could not see the TV. He had NO idea what it looked like. The video was <em>very motivating</em>. </div>
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"If they fire you for leaving on a day like today, so be it. COME HOME."</div>
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He agreed and made plans to leave the city. </div>
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By the time I got to MOMs Group, the second building had fallen. Into church came moms, at least three with multiples, juggling their children and questioning the day. We had quads, triplets and twins in the nursery, tired mommas drinking coffee and a ministry to run. </div>
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Auto-pilot. Two and a half hours of auto-pilot. Welcome. Pray. Wonder. Chat. Wonder. Worry. Chat. Pray.</div>
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My cell phone rang as the moms were leaving. Mark was out of the city. We live 30 minutes from downtown and the commute had taken him nearly <em>three hours</em>. By the time he had gotten to the train to come home there were thousands of people downtown, crammed underground, fleeing Chicago in hopes of getting safely home to their families. He said it was scary seeing so many people in one place... knowing we could be attacked and thinking how they sat, waiting for trains, like sitting ducks. </div>
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We met at a restaurant and I don't know if I have ever been so happy to see him. Our city was never hit... but thinking that it might be was overwhelming to me. I could not begin to imagine the loss and heartbreak New York was experiencing... they were people just like me... but I had my husband home. I had him in front of me having a burger and thinking through this experience in discussion and exchanged glances and deep silences filled with words we would never be able to say. </div>
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By the time I got back to campus, the students were absorbing the news and were overflowing with questions and worries and feelings none of us knew how to process. The other residence directors and I met together quickly while Mark kept the boys away from any media sources. We had to do something but <em>what do you do</em>? No RD training that we had ever gotten had prepared us for helping the students to understand a terrorist attack on our country. We thought through the possible needs and planned to offer a live feed of the president's address that evening available in the college chapel. We called therapists, pastors and history professors to be on hand that night to meet the students where they were. </div>
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That evening after the president spoke, we let the students ask questions and I remember trying to answer them... knowing almost nothing myself. Everything about that day was outside my comfort zone. After the gathering, Mark and I sat in our South Hall apartment while students met with someone who could help them more than we could. Some were in prayer groups. Some were with therapists. Some were with pastors. Some were pondering the historical pieces with professors who could shed light on what this all might mean. I sat stunned in my apartment. Then, there was a student at the door... she was weeping. I invited her to come in. </div>
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I knew this young woman well and loved her positive outlook and example to students. It was so early in the year that there were more students we DID NOT know than those we did. But this one, I knew. She rushed into my apartment and sat on the couch. She cried and Mark and I waited for feelings to flow to thoughts to flow to words. I cried too. </div>
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"I don't know what's wrong with me... " she began, "but I just keep thinking about how sad I am for THEM... for the terrorists who were SO LOST that they would participate in such <em>total evil</em>." </div>
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Tears again. </div>
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We talked for a while about how she felt bad about feeling bad for them... about how her friends did not understand... about how there is no way to know how we will feel about something like this because we never saw it coming and have no way yet to process it at all. </div>
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We cried and prayed and then, with fewer tears, she left the calm of our apartment for the chaos of the residence hall. Mark and I talked about how hard it was for them... for the students who had<em> just</em> graduated from high school, <em>just</em> left for college, <em>just</em> been handed their world, only to find it laying in pieces at their flip-flopped feet. </div>
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Over time, the words ran out. The campus quieted. Around midnight, we closed our apartment door. And that was it... the end of the day. </div>
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For weeks after that day, I begged Mark to stay home again. I did not know how I would ever trust him to be safe in the city again. If they got New York, they could get Chicago, too. For months I could not go to the city I love so well.... and when I did, I got teary just thinking about the what ifs... </div>
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Most people have memories of that time in their lives. We have something more concrete. Because Mark shot video of all campus happenings throughout each school year, we have video taken on campus on September 10. That night we had run a program for roommates to get to know on another better. "Something to Chew On" was a laugh-out-loud list of questions intended to spark conversation between women who were just getting to know each other as friends. The students had come in pajamas and giggled like school girls and eaten cookies with hot chocolate just 12 hours before the whole world changed. It is strange to watch it now... knowing what the morning would bring, knowing what would follow on Mark's videotape next. A presidential address. Prayer groups. Professors discussing. Students embracing. September 11, 2001 in the lower right corner of the shot. </div>
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It has been thirteen years. My boys, now 17 and almost 16 still remember that morning. They called it "the day the airplanes knocked over the buildings" for years, though they now know what it all really was. Our lives are different than they were then and I cannot claim they are not. For months following September 11 people said that if we changed anything about our day to day lives, the terrorists won. Such a strange request... to NOT change after having been through such a significant experience. <em>I am changed</em>. Maybe this is their victory but maybe, just maybe, it is mine. </div>
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Since September 11:</div>
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-I never take my skyline for granted. I love my city deeper and better than ever before and pray for those who lost loved ones in New York every time I drive into Chicago. I am raising my kids to know that we are exceedingly blessed to live where we live and love the city we call home. </div>
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-I value my family in a way I never knew to value them before. Finding out that the world can change first thing in the morning on a clear September day gave me perspective that makes me hug them tighter and hold them longer than I might have otherwise done. </div>
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-I understand bravery and sacrifice in a way that I never did before. How does a fire fighter rush into a building that will surely fall? How do you help when you know it may cost you <em>everything</em>? Sacrifice no longer means writing a check to help feed the hungry. It means giving it all. <em>Offering it all</em>. And I still stand AMAZED at those who did just that on the morning of 9/11. </div>
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-I know now that I cannot shelter my kids in the way I may have thought necessary before. Instead, I have to teach them... to see, to think, to feel, to learn and to build bridges... and yes, to be careful. Sheltering is nice but <em>preparing is essential</em>. I am careful in how this happens but I am also careful to be sure that it does. </div>
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Since September 11, truth be told, I am sometimes fearful, sometimes worried, sometimes unsure about what is happening in this world. But, hope is built as I see life go forward, as I watch my children grow up, as I enjoy a clear day in Chicago. We, as a country, were not destroyed. We did not become something dark and sad and broken. We, as a country, as a family, moved on to what was new for us. A new way to live and to love and to trust and to grow. <em>There is hope in that</em>. Can you see it, too? </div>
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Thirteen years have gone by. It is hard to believe. The names are being read. The president is speaking. We all promise to remember and in doing so, honor the lives of those who were lost on that dark day. And as I sit here now, the faces of so many beloved students flash through my mind... those who walked with us as we found a path we never knew we would need... All of us, the students, MOMs Group, my two blond babies now grown taller, we all are connected in a way that is deeper and more profound than we otherwise would have felt. I am grateful for that because in my confusion and sadness and loss and anger, I did not walk alone.<i> We</i> did not walk alone. God granted us community. He spoke in human voices. He reached out through hands that were cloaked in flesh and blood. Through friends and family and acquaintances and community, God granted comfort to us in our grief. No, we were not<i> then </i>and are not<i> now</i> alone. And in that small but powerful way, the victory, the blessing, is ours. <br />
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-18040791733205864082014-08-18T08:00:00.000-05:002014-08-18T08:00:02.467-05:00All Those Little Things...<br />
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This is what I know...<br />
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I know that in my home live four children who call me momma. Different as night and day, they are. Each one deeply loved and desired and each one such an integral part of our family that I cannot imagine life without them. <br />
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And I know that as Mark and I have parented these four, there have been days that are beautiful and simple and honestly, the stuff of dreams. But there have also been hard days and gritty days and days that I fall into bed in tears, deeply aware of how much I really do not know. <br />
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For each of them we have fought. We fought to see the wonder and delighted in those moments when it rose to the top like bubbles. We fought to approach discipline wisely and carefully and personally so that we were not so much trying to be fair to the four as we were trying to give each one what they needed. Because it is rarely the same thing, at least not in our home. <br />
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And God knows we have not always been sure that what we are doing is the best thing. We are not always sure what the next thing should be. We are not always sure that we are reaching the ones we need to reach and giving space to the ones who are growing up and out. <i>Because all this parenting stuff is hard.</i> <br />
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Maybe you understand...<br />
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But, as we have walked through this for 17.5 years with our children nearby, crafting a life that we pray God will use to help our kids grow into who they are meant to be, we have tried to do what we can do and prayed for grace when we failed. Which happens, you know. I hope you know. <br />
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And from where I stand, I see this little tiny glimpse that I just have to share because in the midst of a lifetime of living with no instruction manual and only a fuzzy view into what might come, it offers me hope. And I need that. And maybe you do, too. <br />
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This fall, our oldest will be a senior in high school. He is almost done. And his little brother will be a sophomore and our little ones will be in the 5th and 6th grades and all of a sudden I can see it...<br />
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Blowing bubbles<br />
Praying often<br />
Standing firm<br />
Saying no<br />
Laughing out loud<br />
Eating together<br />
Playing games<br />
Taking a walk<br />
Going to church<br />
Reading a book<br />
Saying hard words<br />
Raising the bar<br />
Staying involved<br />
Showing up<br />
Opening up<br />
Pulling in close<br />
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and...<br />
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Letting Go...<br />
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<i>They all matter. </i><br />
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These and so much more. <br />
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And maybe you are tired and maybe you are struggling and maybe it is just all too hard. <br />
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Yep. I get that. <br />
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But, squint your eyes and take a deep breath and be reminded... It. Matters. <br />
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All those little choices over a lifetime of living together when you could not stand the sight of the Candy Land box or one more knock-knock joke but you made yourself listen again, roll the dice, pick a card, hook up the sprinkler, all because a little one asked. All the times that you set aside what you are doing to watch that video, listen to middle school drama, invite over another friend, it makes all the difference in the world. When you stay connected when it is easier to step away, when you try a new approach to discipline because the last 4 ways did not work, when you expect more and follow through and don't give up, you are changing it all for the good. <br />
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And when you, like me, are looking at your baby and realizing that you see more of his back as he walks out the door than his face hanging out at home, you will know that somehow you have poured into the boy while you had him close. And when he comes back in to say good-bye and give you a hug as he heads on out, you will be grateful for all the little things, all the choices that felt like mindless minutiae, that gave him the security to stand, the confidence to connect to the world before him. <br />
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Our children get these things when we see them. <br />
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<i>So, please see. </i><br />
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And honestly, I do not think it is so much about the things we do not do... Because we are trying, right? It is about knowing that what we manage to do on this one day makes all the difference in the world to the children we have been given to raise. So we will try to choose that one thing, one more time, one more game, one more lightning bug saved in a jar. There is wonder to be found in the most mundane.<br />
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When we started this journey, 17.5 years ago, we had no idea that it mattered. But a lifetime of seeking to make intentional choices has somehow brought us to this place where we can see that the little choices are the big choices. They are those moments we remember, those memories we cherish, even when it was something silly or simple. But the whole of it left a mark on our kids and taught lessons we didn't know we were offering. Choosing to be present and willing and connected sent a signal loudly that they are loved, important, noticed, valued...<br />
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Lessons they get to keep.<br />
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I don't think I always knew that. <br />
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What a wondrous thing to learn.<br />
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Blessings on your day.Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-31242210100469705912014-03-10T12:30:00.000-05:002014-03-10T12:30:24.064-05:00Revisiting Gaming and Seeking What's Best<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This gaming issue is not done for me. I am wrestling with it still. I snapped this picture in Target a while ago because it was so shocking to me that we would even think this way when planning for summer. It is a lot to process for us mommas, a lot to evaluate for the children we love. <br />
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All of this came up for me again today as I perused facebook. I took a few minutes to read an article I have recently seen but had ignored. <i>I should not have ignored it. </i> The title? <br />
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<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/cris-rowan/10-reasons-why-handheld-devices-should-be-banned_b_4899218.html">10 Reasons Why Handheld Devices Should Be Banned for Children Under the Age of 12</a></div>
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Have you read it? If not, please, PLEASE click on that title and leave here for a few minutes and read THAT. Because, seriously... we need to take in what that article provides and find a way to apply it to our ordinary, everyday lives. This article takes what we feel as mommas and shows us the research behind it, making our intuition all the more clear. I don't know why we refuse to trust ourselves more... but we do. Us mommas, we get this sense that something is just plain bad for our kids...you know, like excessive gaming or the quality of such... and we talk ourselves out of it because we are just so sure that <i>we</i> will be wrong, or we are being <i>too strict</i> or everyone else is doing it and that all of this matters more. </div>
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<i>Can we just not do that anymore? </i></div>
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That little one in your arms or at your feet or who you drove to school today or put on a bus... that little one is <i>yours.</i> And you get to be the expert on that child and you get to choose for that child and you get to offer up to that sweet daughter or son the best (and sometimes worst) that you are. So, if there is a weight in the pit of your belly that says, "I think this is not what is best for my baby." then RUN... <i>seriously, run.</i>.. away from that thing and toward what you believe will help your child to develop into the adult they are meant to be. </div>
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You get to do that. And no one can fuss at you for doing what you feel is right. </div>
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So I wrote this <a href="http://nadiaswearingen-friesen.blogspot.com/2014/01/gaming-and-what-i-want.html">blog in January about gaming</a> and I was terrified to post it because I was sure that I was standing alone. And you want to know what happened next? Two things. </div>
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1. People started reading it and passing to friends making that post the most read blog I have ever written. </div>
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2. People started writing to me and telling me how they felt similarly about gaming. </div>
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I was shocked by both. I went from being terrified about what people would think to feeling like I wasn't that alone at all. Amazing. <i>Comforting. </i></div>
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Though it did make me wonder why all the video game stores are still open. Because now I can see that a lot of parents are uncomfortable with this whole scene. And I am left wondering about how trapped we feel because something in us is saying that gaming is not what is best for our kids and yet the stores are still open and money is being made and our kids, yours and mine, are still gaming. And yes, a lot of us are putting limits on what we buy and what we allow and that is exactly what we need to do. We need to help our kids see that we can find a way to build in parameters that allow for the things they want to do while still living within limits we can tolerate. </div>
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But, when I read that article today, I felt emboldened again. And I find myself thinking about what our life would look like if we lived by the standards given here. I wondered what we could do if we actually had back the time we often waste on screens. I wondered how I can be so concerned about gaming and the quality of it all and yet still find myself allowing the overuse of technology in our home. </div>
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I love that the article addresses all of this from a point of research. Because seriously, seeing it all clearly explained from a point of view that has studied the impacts of technology on children is motivating. And I think we are often overlooking really obvious signs that we are just not doing what we need to... in our homes and in our society. </div>
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Many years ago when I was teaching, I asked the kindergarten teacher how placement testing was going for the next year. Each spring, potential kindergarten students would come to school for "testing" that would help the teacher to prepare for the new year and also to help guide parents in preparing their children. Nearly 20 years ago, I found myself in this conversation and was shocked at the response. My colleague (I taught first grade, she taught Kindergarten) sat with her head in her hands at the end of the day. As we talked, she explained that year after year the kids she tested were actually able to do LESS. She said that many did not know how to hold a pencil and a shocking number of kids could not climb stairs well (alternating feet). She said that the children came to testing knowing the names of multiple TV characters and with tons of experience playing on electronics, but little experience playing outside. </div>
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Nearly 20 years ago. </div>
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Can you imagine her experience today? </div>
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And we scratch our heads at the number of children who show signs of attention deficit disorder and sensory processing disorder at an early age. We offer medication for low levels of Vitamin D and prepare for record numbers of children to be diagnosed with diabetes.</div>
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Yes, I know some kids are born with these struggles. I believe this to be true. But, I also know that there are far more kids with issues now than there were when I used to teach. And I know that in my own house, we have had to remove TV as an option for one of my kids because that child's behavior was so much worse after watching. Why? Because she needed to move! She needed to jump and yell and run and fall and feel the dirt beneath her feet and the wind in her hair. Kids need these things. And they will never get them from a screen. Ever. </div>
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So yes, there are kids who are born with struggles and there are kids who come from hard places and there are kids who have health issues <i>just because.</i> And there are kids who need to move more and play outside and do a puzzle and talk a ton and who will find themselves with a hard road to walk in school because of the excessive technology they have been offered from a very young age </div>
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At the end of the article, we see this: </div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Dr Andrew Doan, Dr. Hilarie Cash and Chris Rowan</span></div>
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And I am left wondering again. </div>
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I am left with our experience from Christmas. I am left with the knowledge that experts still say that all online violent and explicit gaming is bad for our kids... even our big kids... and that these forms of media should never be used. And there are studies that support these truths. </div>
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Oh mommas, we know this, don't we? We know in our guts that we need to be careful. We know we need to protect their hearts and their minds. We know. What will we do with this knowledge? How will we intersect what we feel is best with what we offer at home? Where will we make room for our faith and a respect for human life to guide our choices? </div>
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And even as I type that, I think, "Am I supposed to making room for my faith? Or should I be making room in a faithful life for some of these other things?" The difference in these sentences is small. The variation in their meaning is great. </div>
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As I go through life with my four kids, I know that I want what is best for them. I know that I want them to grow up healthy and well-rounded with a solid belief system that guides their lives. I know that I want them to know how to connect to others and follow their calling and value family and love their God. And I want them to have fun and know joy and find room for downtime and rest. </div>
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I just hope that I am teaching them to do these things with a focus on what matters most. </div>
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<i>This is not an easy task. </i></div>
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Blessings on your day. </div>
Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-32396556014472685052014-03-03T12:26:00.000-06:002014-03-03T12:26:25.654-06:00What Can We Do Together?<div>
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I never dreamed I would be doing this. When I was a little girl, I thought I would grow up and be a mom, a teacher, a writer. I thought I would work with kids with special needs. And to be honest, I did (or do) all of these things. <div>
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But a speaker? </div>
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It never crossed my mind. </div>
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And yet, last week, I found myself standing on a stage at a church in the Chicago-land area having the time of my life. I did the same thing the week before... and will do it again next week... and the week after that... And I just cannot believe that I get to do this thing that I love that I never saw coming <i>at all.</i> </div>
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God is funny like that... planning and dreaming for the stuff we will do and smiling when it comes as a complete surprise to His children. It keeps us on our toes some, I think. At least, it does for me. </div>
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And, as if it was not amazing enough that I get to do this thing, sometimes I hear back from the people I speak to from that stage. I did today. I opened my email box and found a story about a family and the part that my Sticks program might play in the life they are living together. It made me smile and feel affirmed but honestly, it made me feel something more. </div>
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That kind email made me feel <i>eager. </i></div>
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I want to do more. </div>
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Because here is what I know from living life with my family and standing on those stages to speak... I know that we are all just doing what we can. And sometimes, we find ourselves so overwhelmed that even if we could scrape up the energy to try something new in our homes, we may not then find the energy to see it through. We get up every day and try to do what we know to do and to love on our kids and to get it all done and then at the end of the day, we fall into bed exhausted and get up again and do it again and are exhausted again and so on and so on and... </div>
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It is an awful lot. </div>
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And then we add to that the things we must do that we never saw coming and are unprepared to manage because who ever<i> trains you to be a mom</i>? We have kids who struggle, who are sad, who are angry. We have kids with sensory issues, autism, learning disabilities. We have kids who are shy, who are mean, who are lost. And somehow we just have to <i>figure it out</i>? And still get dinner on the table and clean the floors and remember our friends and find time to shower? </div>
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Yep, some days it's just too much. A lot of days, it is too much. And we find ourselves living in <i>survival mode</i> which doesn't leave much time to connect to others, to save our own sanity, to reach out for help. And every, single time I stand in front of an audience, I think of these very things. That we are doing a big work, a hard thing, and we are in it together. And I cannot believe I get to offer a bit of encouragement to a group of parents who, like me, know what it is like to feel like you are barely getting by. And I cannot believe I get to see a little peek into what God can do when we take the chance to be real together. Because when we set down our guard and tell the truth, often we have created just enough space for something amazing to occur. </div>
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We weren't meant to do this alone... He wants us to be in it together. </div>
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Last week, after speaking on Sticks, I was taking questions from the audience. Imagine my surprise when I was asked a couple of times about the role of video games in our home? I don't talk about gaming in my presentation at all. But, isn't it just like God to know that something that has been on my heart, something I have wrestled with here on the blog with you, is also something another momma needs to think about, too? And as I briefly addressed the subject (Aren't you surprised I could do so <i>briefly</i>?) I was reminded again how much we need one another. </div>
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How easy that is to forget... </div>
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Today, I want us to remember. I want us to remember how important it feels to have someone tell us that they have struggled with the same issue that is plaguing us today. I want us to remember how powerful it is when we take a risk and allow for some transparency and then someone says that they understand. I want all of us to recall how calming it is when someone tells us they are sorry for our pain, that they want to offer help, that they have <i>no words</i> but want to come alongside. </div>
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I want us all to remember... <i>and then act. </i> </div>
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Because parenting is hard. And we need to offer to one another fewer judgmental glances and far more words of grace. We need to reach out today and call a friend or send a text and sincerely ask what we can do. And that friend who seems to have it all together? Don't be distracted by that image. We all live in a place where some days are good and others are rough and we know what to do or cannot figure it out and all of us, even you and even me, need to know that we are not walking alone. </div>
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You have a part to play, you see. And I do too. </div>
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And when I stand on that stage and look out, I see it. I see the look in your eye, like the look in my own, that asks a million questions and wants to talk it through. We were not meant to just figure it out. We were meant to reach out and connect and process this work. In doing so, we will find that this big work doesn't have to be so lonely. This big work is meant to do in community with others... and we are better this way. Better together than we ever were alone. </div>
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Yep, I feel eager. </div>
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Eager to do more, eager for us <i>all</i> to do more. Eager to help. Eager to write. Eager to speak and to connect and to empower and encourage. And I am not sure where God is going next but I sure love where I have been. </div>
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So, I have two book proposals to polish and work to do and the desire to reach out is burning in me. Need a speaker? Know a publisher, an editor, an agent? I am ready for whatever is next. </div>
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So, let's find something we can do. <i>Seriously</i>. Who do you need to reach out to today? What note do you need to write, what person needs see your smile, who can you support in the midst of a trial? Let's not pull so tightly in that we forget how important we can be to others. Let's not just read a blog and go back to cleaning or diapering or doing whatever we were doing before. Instead, let's open ourselves up to whatever is coming, whatever we need to do. </div>
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What does that look like for you? </div>
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Blessings on your day. </div>
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-56586450830151809382014-02-21T11:05:00.000-06:002014-02-21T11:05:46.028-06:00Random Thoughts Because I Can on a Friday<div>
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It is Friday. And I know full well that it is a horrible day to blog because people are all busy and planning for the weekend and rushing around and so no one reads. Most often, I use this as a worthy excuse about why I do not post at the end of the week. Because, you know, I am all about posting regularly. :) But, today I think there may be another way to look at this. Since I am just typing away in my quiet house and the world is all distracted and rushing, I can write anything I would like here and it really doesn't matter. It's a bit like whispering to myself. <div>
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Which, of course, I never do. </div>
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So, how about a list of random thoughts on a windy Friday morn? </div>
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1. It warmed up this week. All the people who are sick of winter got super excited about spring coming and such. I worry for them. Because... well...<i> it's February. </i> And the reality is we have a lot of winter yet to come. A couple of days of temperatures above freezing made us all remember it is possible that some day spring will come and we will not wear coats and the sun will peek back out and we will all go outside to play. Yep, that day is coming. But it is not today. Sometimes I wonder why we are always so discontent. We spend winter longing for summer and summer awaiting the cold. I wonder what life would look like if we tried to embrace where we are and whatever is around us, trusting that the only thing that is sure is that this will not be the way things stay. </div>
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2. My older boys have had a couple of busy weeks. Retreats, rehearsals, practices, school... I see their backs more than their faces and I <i>miss</i> them. I love that they get to do such amazing things and that they are using their gifts and getting experiences that are valuable to the lives they will lead. But, when I sit down to eat dinner and they are not here, I am face to face with the reality that someday this will be the norm. And I cannot even wrap my head around that. Yes, there are days when I am tired and when the house is a wreck and I am frustrated and all this parenting work feels like an awful lot... But, I also know <i>this is a season.</i> And, from the second these four were placed in my arms, there was a clock somewhere running backwards and my back is up against the wall with no way to slow it down. So, when my teens came home last night at the time I normally go to bed, you better believe I stayed up a while to listen to them bubble over with excitement about all that they had done. And you better believe that I put my arms around their necks, yes, even their teenage necks, and hugged them tight because today,<i> I can.</i> Today, they will still come home and sleep in their beds and eat all our snacks and talk loud and fast and leave their clothes on the bathroom floor. Not forever... but today. And I am<i> thankful</i> for that... </div>
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3. Speaking of my messy house... Please tell me that it is not only me that has a house that is utterly trashed <i>every week.</i> Please tell me that I am not the only momma who says, "I know you hate chores, dear children. However, if you just picked up after yourselves, there would never be a mess and we would not have to do chores... blah, blah, blah." As I sit here typing to you, I know I should go and work at some of it but seriously the mess is not mine and I know I am teaching them some horrible lesson by cleaning up after them. But, the truth is that it is driving me crazy and I am home by myself and the only one suffering in the disaster around is <i>me</i>! I think we have too much stuff. I am convinced that if we owned less stuff, we would have less to clean up and then I remember... they will leave out what they have anyway. The only amount of stuff that would end up leaving <i>no mess</i> behind is <i>no stuff.</i> And that is unrealistic... right? And wasn't it just one paragraph ago that I was reminding myself how fleeting this all is... and a paragraph before that... about contentment? Yep, maybe I am not reading my blog. It is Friday, after all. </div>
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4. On another note, my disdain for medicine continues. Turns out, it doesn't much care for me, either. After nearly two weeks of tweaking meds and feeling sick over all this heart stuff, I think we will need to find another way. My cardiologist has some suggestions and thinks that fixing my heart may make more sense that toying with meds that do not help greatly and<i> do</i> cause other issues. So... I am thinking I will likely do that. Get it fixed. I wish I could say that I am not afraid... but doing anything with the heart seems pretty worrisome given the fact that I cannot live without. The doctor seems confident but I am fairly sure that being confident is a trait you must have to go into medicine. For now, I am going to juggle a couple of prescriptions for about another month and then hopefully, go in and get this whole thing taken care of so I can feel better and live normally for a really long time to come. If you would pray for this whole tachycardia business though, I would appreciate it more than you know. </div>
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How's that for random thoughts? </div>
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I think I will go make some banana bars and put in a load of laundry. I think I will write an article and send it in and look over my book proposal and take care of some things that being tired from my heart has kept me from doing for far too long. I will sit with my dog and soak up the quiet that is sitting beside me and breathe and rest and putz and enjoy this day. </div>
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Even if it is cold. </div>
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Even if there's a mess. </div>
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Even if I don't feel great. </div>
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And, I hope you can, too. </div>
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Blessings on your day. </div>
Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-2177128149006798242014-02-12T10:19:00.000-06:002014-02-12T10:19:32.017-06:00My Heart and Our "Also Lives"<br />
For the past two weeks, I have found myself thinking about what we keep private and why. Not sure I have figured any of it out but I thought that maybe if I took some time to think it through with you, I would understand it better than I do today. <br />
<br />
I love facebook. I do. As someone who's life circle has always had a lot of spires coming from and heading to a wide variety of directions, I love the way all those folks that I care about come together in a place of intersection. From early on my teen years, I desired this... but could not work it out. With facebook, I love that I can read about the mundane goings on in the lives of friends with whom I once shared such things. I love watching families grow, seeing pictures of events and exchanging ideas, recipes, frustrations, life experiences. It is good. <br />
<br />
But somehow, I am finding that we all keep back some parts... some darker days or moments of failure or questions about our kids. We dig through our days mining for some way to connect but throw behind us the very things we may need to share. Maybe this is just natural, maybe it is totally okay. But maybe we are choosing not to share some things for reasons that should not be...<br />
<br />
Today, a facebook friend very honestly shared that several people had made (incredibly) snide comments about her weight. Immediately she was inundated with kindness and encouragement on her wall and it was real and it was honest and I know that her morning changed on a dime from a place of self-doubt and sadness to a deep reassurance of her worth and the wonder that makes her unique. <br />
<br />
I love that. <br />
<br />
But it doesn't happen nearly enough. <br />
<br />
When I worked with college students, we talked A LOT about community. We valued it, protected it, sought to create it and reveled in a life lived alongside. When I tell my older boys about their childhoods, the story always begins with, "You were born into community..." It makes me smile, still. The images of my family living closely with college students are treasured still and are certainly a part of our family's history.<br />
<br />
But what I know for sure is that community is built best in honesty. It flows from our very willingness to put out the best that we are, our strengths and our gifts, in a sacred offering to others. <i>And</i>, it flows from our corporate ability to drop our guards, admit our needs and open ourselves to the love and service of others. I think it is how God created us to be. Where I am weak, you are strong, and we knit together in a way that creates and new a beautiful thing. <br />
<br />
But we don't always allow that to be. <br />
<br />
And I am not sure why. <br />
<br />
Perhaps we are so afraid of what others will see or say that we feel like hiding is our only choice. But the truth is that our fears are often unfounded because when we let down that guard what we find is that all those days when we stood still in self-imposed solitude, it had little to do with being alone and lots to do with <i>feeling </i>alone. When we tell the truth, we find that so many people who are quite nearby deeply understand and can come alongside. <br />
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Are we afraid of that? <br />
<br />
I think sometimes, we are. <br />
<br />
The intimacy that it requires is overwhelming and it sure is hard to maintain our fortresses when we are faced with the compassion of others. We don't know what to say and somehow believe that something must be said. We feel guilty being in a role of receiving when the work of giving is easier for many and that strength feels good. <br />
<br />
So deciding what we share becomes this crazy dance of trying to be honest and yet maintaining some safe distance and all of the craziness of this breaks down the dream of community and connection that lives in each of us somewhere. <br />
<br />
So, why has this come up for me now? <br />
<br />
Well, it is really about my heart. <br />
<br />
So, don't freak out because I know then I will stop typing and because honestly it is not worth freaking out about. Clearly I am okay because here I sit, typing this blog to you. <br />
<br />
I am not really sure how I landed in a place where I would feel so sick and yet not post a word about it. I will be wrestling with that for a while. But, I think I just didn't know what was going on with me so I wanted to wait until I could tie it up neatly and then it would be done. But, its been two and a half weeks and I still don't know much so it seems like I am waiting for something that may never come. <br />
<br />
So, here's the story...<br />
<br />
Two and a half weeks ago, I started having heart palpitations. I didn't think much about it at first. I assumed it would go away. I am healthy and had been feeling great. I have lost a bunch of weight and am working out. I eat real food and healthy food and feed my family the same. So, I knew I could not be sick. I am doing all that I know to do to be healthy and well. <br />
<br />
A week went by, the palpitations continued, and I started to feel dizzy. This, I did not like. But still I kept on going, trying to do my regular things and keep my regular pace. But the dizziness increased and I was feeling fatigued. After an especially worrisome experience <i>while driving,</i> I was encouraged by those close to me to go to the doctor. <br />
<br />
So I went. Which I am not quick to do. My doc made a plan but in the meantime she was clear that I could not drive. Sigh. I am the mom to 4 kids. Involved kids. How can I possibly not drive? Plus, I am fiercely independent and like to take care of details and shopping and all of that stuff on my own when it feels like it needs to be done. But, that was not to be for now... which was (<i>and is</i>) unbelievably frustrating, to say the least.<br />
<br />
Lots of tests went by and the docs could see that something was happening. <i>But what? </i><br />
<br />
We didn't know until last Friday. A final test came back on that afternoon. <br />
<br />
The doc called with information about atrial tachycardia and said my heart was going way too fast. She said she could see that I need relief. So, she called in a med. <br />
<br />
I am not a fan of meds at all. But, at that point, I was nearly 2 weeks into feeling poorly. I was happy as a clam to try anything she wanted to offer. Mark ran to get it and I quickly took it... and...<br />
<br />
It did nothing. <br />
<br />
So finally yesterday, two and a half weeks into this craziness, I saw a cardiologist. I was unsure but I liked him. He was calm and took his time and tried to help me understand what it means to find out that this happening to you. He wants to try a medication, as well. He said it may not work but sometimes it works well if you add<i> another medication</i>. For now, he wants to find a way to just get me feeling better. Once this settles down, we can talk about the difference between treating a symptom and healing an issue. That is a big thing for me...<br />
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In the meantime, the docs are hopeful that we will find something that settles my heart down. <br />
<br />
So there it is. Not so scary, see? It is not life threatening (though it is annoying) and as soon as I am not light-headed, I can move on and get back to driving. But I do have a lot to learn. While my mother has had a similar thing, I still need to learn to understand this in terms of my own life and my own desire for balance and my own need for independence and activity. I need ideas and I may even need help. Which I struggle with... When, and if, the meds start working, I will feel a lot better. For now, I am pretty tired and pretty frustrated and pretty weary of all of this mess.<br />
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So why did I say nothing about all of this? Why do we feel like we need to put out posts that are entertaining or contain questions and answers or tie up situations in nice neat bows? Does your life look like that, nice and neat? Mine does not. <br />
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My life has moments of true joy and intentional teaching and fulfilling moments with family and friends. <br />
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And my life also has deep frustrations, unsolvable problems and limitations that I bang my head against nearly every day. <br />
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<i>The truth is we all lives lives of <b>also</b></i>. <br />
<br />
Life is beautiful and good.<br />
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It is ALSO dark and scary. <br />
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Life is loving and close.<br />
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It is ALSO broken and hard. <br />
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Life is captured in the wonder of pictures and heart warming stories. <br />
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It is ALSO gritty and complex and hard to describe. <br />
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Life is healthy and strong. <br />
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It is ALSO illness and need. <br />
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Every person who paints a perfect picture<i> </i>and<i> </i>complains constantly and eats only homegrown and drives through McDonald's and loves their kids and is angry at their kids and is all they hoped they'd be and nothing they thought they would be... every one.... lives an <i>also </i>life. Even you. Even me.<br />
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So, let's open ourselves up a titch and tell the truth about what we are living because the thing you need may come your way just because you decided to speak up. The situation that is going on around you, and I know there is one because there is <i>always</i> one, is familiar to others and if they knew what you needed, they might just stretch out a hand. Or pull you into an embrace. Or come alongside and walk for a ways, when the path is uneven and dim. Or maybe, just maybe, we will see our needs and those of others and then all sit real quiet and pray for one another and allow our <i><b>also lives</b></i> to be broken in upon by the grace and truth that can be found in learning that we are not alone. And we will feel supported in a way that is divine and desired...<br />
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This, we all need. <br />
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Even you. <br />
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Even me. <br />
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Blessings on your day.Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-9839127635360072792014-01-13T13:06:00.000-06:002014-01-13T13:06:56.772-06:00Gaming and What I Want <br />
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I don't want to write this.<br />
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I have been turning these questions around in my head for weeks. Seriously. I have been telling myself that I don't have to write about everything that perplexes me. I don't have to question everything, either. But this, THIS, this bothers me so much. And I know some of you are going to be mad that I even thought about all of this, even madder that I wrote about it... but what does one do when something is so maddening and <i>frustrating</i> and no matter how much time goes into the the thinking about it, it still makes no dang sense. <br />
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So, you have been warned. Might make more sense for you to click on something else. Heck, you don't even need to leave my blog. <a href="http://nadiaswearingen-friesen.blogspot.com/search/label/recipes">Looking for a recipe?</a> I have written lots of stuff that won't irritate you. <br />
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But <i>this</i> might. <br />
<br />
So, I have two teenagers. I love them dearly and honestly feel blessed. I was afraid of the teen years, <a href="http://nadiaswearingen-friesen.blogspot.com/2010/03/noah-turned-13-reflections-on-his-young.html">even blogged about that,</a> but all the stuff I had been told about what happens to a kid on his 13th birthday was untrue. Teens can be nice, polite and mostly clean. Teens still love their mommas and eat with their families and love their siblings and come home at the end of the day. And they are funny. Sarcastic. Thoughtful. And I <i>love</i> of all of that. So our adjustment to teen-dom was really no big deal. For the most part. <br />
<br />
One thing that did adjust slightly is that my teen boys found that playing video games would matter some in connecting to others. (Seriously, I told you that you should read something else.) Mark and I understood that this sort of cultural common denominator builds a shared language that kids use to communicate. They play similar games and talk about what they're doing and its fun and communal and so, okay, we can work with that. Even though we have traditionally been a low-screens family, once those teen years rolled around, we set some boundaries and said yes and our teens ended up with a game system that they purchased. We placed it in an area where they would have the ability to play without our younger kids being subjected to the games teens <i>want</i> to play. Still public. And it started off well. <br />
<br />
Because we have been screen-stingy, our kids are pretty happy working with guidelines on such things because they know that our yes did not come easy. So they played with permission and we were aware of the games they purchased and <a href="http://www.pluggedin.com/games.aspx">we researched new games</a> and said no to some they really wanted. Because we do have one strict rule. I do not want my children to kill <i>people</i>, even in a video game, for entertainment. <br />
(I told you that you would not like this. <a href="http://nadiaswearingen-friesen.blogspot.com/search/label/attitude">Perhaps I can interest you in one of these posts</a>?)<br />
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Drawing this line in the sand led to conversations like this: <br />
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"Are we against first person-shooter games?"<br />
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"Are they shooting at people or aliens?" <br />
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"Well, alien killing might be okay."<br />
<br />
"What if the aliens look like people?"<br />
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Seriously, I hate these conversations. <br />
<br />
So, initially our boys played games where killing aliens was deemed okay. They also played sports games, especially FIFA soccer. There was strategy to the games and they could play with their friends through on-line connections and we did not LOVE the shooting games but we were FINE with it. And all was right in the world. Well, sorta. <br />
<br />
For Christmas one year, we were hunting for games that fell within our parameters. After a pleasant chat with a gamer/Gamestop sales person, we were introduced to the game Portal. My boys loved it. Seriously. There was no killing of humans and it was a cerebral game. You had to, you know, <i>think</i>. And, I know this is shocking in today's world of gaming, but my boys, brothers only 18 months apart, could actually PLAY TOGETHER! (If you are new to the world of gaming, games are no longer created to be played together in the same room. You can play with others, but not someone sitting next to you. You can play with a stranger, a school friend, but not a sibling. Well, unless you have two of the same game system...) With Portal, we would find them down there laughing and strategizing and working with one another to solve the game. Now, even as someone who does not love screens, I could work with that. They played Portal and Portal 2 and even heard that another Portal may be created. Except I do not now believe it will ever come to be. So, let me tell you why...<br />
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Fast forward to this Christmas. Mark and I head out to do some Christmas shopping and while we wandered around Target, I found myself standing in the Leap Frog aisle. You know this company, right? I was lost in a nostalgic moment as I watched parents of children far younger than mine sort through whatever was left in the display of educational electronic games. But, given the fact that it was less than two weeks until Christmas, the pickings were really slim! Truth be told, the entire aisle looked abandoned. Target was almost sold out. <br />
<br />
I stood there remembering how my four children had loved those games. I remembered how I enjoyed the fact that they were learning math, reading, even art, while they played games, read books, used devices. Even then we were careful with how much screen-time our kids enjoyed but this seemed like a good use of those precious minutes. They felt like they were playing a game and we got to keep our eyes on our long-term goal of raising well-educated kids. It was an easy win-win. By the looks of that pre-Christmas Leap Frog aisle, it must continue to be this for parents today. <br />
<br />
(Are you still with me? I know this is long but that's what weeks of thinking will get ya.) <br />
<br />
After leaving Target, we decided to stop at Gamestop again for game suggestions for our boys. Our oldest had been intrigued by a game that was coming out soon... but not soon enough for Christmas. So, we were idea hunting and <i>naively optimistic</i>. Thinking that we could get another suggestion, somewhat like Portal, Mark headed in to ask. <br />
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Several minutes later, he came back out. Empty-handed. Dejected look on his face. <br />
<br />
Mark described his exchange with the Gamestop salesperson like this:<br />
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"I am looking for a game for my teens that is not a first person shooter game." <br />
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"Hmm... How about this one?" said the Gamestop guy.<br />
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"Looks good. Why is it rated M?" Mark questioned.<br />
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"Totally because of the explicit sexual content."<br />
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Stunned, Mark said, "We would prefer to not have explicit sexual content..."<br />
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The Gamestop employee responded (demeaningly), "Sir. You <i>have</i> to have one or the other. You know that, right? If you don't want heavy violence, you have to have graphic sexual content. You know that, <i>right</i>?"<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas. <br />
<br />
After we talked a bit in the van, we went back in together to give it another shot. Mark told me who he had spoken to (we will refer to him as "guy in hat" from now on) and knowing that he would not be helpful, we sought out a different person and began again. <br />
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"We just don't think killing people should be entertainment for<i> our </i>kids. And our kids like a game with strategy. They loved Portal."<br />
<br />
Stumped, they guy just stood there. Staring at a wall with HUNDREDS of video games. Aside from sports games (we have) or lame and somewhat juvenile superhero games, this trying-hard-to-be-helpful salesperson was unable to point to<i> one</i> teen-appropriate game<i> </i>that doesn't kill humans or have explicit sexual content. I am not kidding. <br />
<br />
After a few minutes of rubbing his chin in thought, he said "Um... let me get some other guys to see if they have any ideas." He started calling to other employees. He went to call on "guy in hat" but I stopped him. <br />
<br />
"He doesn't know." I said. <br />
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When we explained to our new helpers that we were looking for a game that does not portray humans shooting humans or explicit sexual content, all of the workers now helping audibly said, "Oooooh..."<br />
<br />
And then silence.<br />
<br />
Now, we are standing in a video game store with 3 gamer/worker guys who are all staring at the boxes of hundreds of video games with only these parameters for a game for teens: Don't shoot humans. No explicit sexual content. And they were stumped. (Please, PLEASE, if this bothers you, tell me. Because after this whole experience I gotta tell you, we feel pretty alone in our stance.)<br />
<br />
A solid 20 minutes we stood there. And finally, they came up with ONE workable (and actually really perfect fit) option. One. One age-appropriate game where my boys would not spend hours pretending to shoot people or watching blood gush from bullet wounds. One game where my children would not either pretend to have sex or watch others have sex or see people in sexual situations. One. <br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong. I am thrilled with the one. I really am. It was cerebral but not hokey. It does have shooting but you are <i>trying to save the world, for goodness sake!</i> But, it is aliens who are being shot and you cannot just play, you <i>have to think.</i> You have a team of people working with you and you cannot just regenerate them so you have to protect them. You have to be careful. With the people. Because humans matter in this game. And, you know, <i>in real life. </i><br />
<br />
And so for weeks-on-end I have thought about all this and here is what I cannot figure out. I just cannot make sense of that empty Leap Frog aisle. <br />
<br />
When my kids were little, we worked so hard to have them learn important things. We were deeply aware that our time was limited and we needed to use whatever we could to teach them well. Yes, we wanted them to have fun. But, if we could slip some learning into that fun? All the better! We understood, when they were young, that everything that went into their little heads had a purpose. It taught them a lesson, good or bad. We read to them, drew with them, took them outside to play. We talked about the world, our faith, the importance of family and friends. We taught them to use their words and not their fists and to treat others with respect. We did it, for the same reason you did. Because it mattered. Because they were young and impressionable. And honestly, it was easy because other parents were doing it, too. We shared ideas and encouraged one another. We spoke the same language. Not always. But often. <br />
<br />
And as we drove away from Gamestop that day, I just could not figure out where all that hope and planning and intentionality begins to fall away. And maybe<i> it hasn't</i>. Maybe I am just so confused that I cannot see straight. Feels that way. But, the Gamestop was full of parents buying games for their kids that are bloody and violent and sexually charged. And they seemingly have no issue with it. So maybe I am the one who is wrong. Maybe it is just plain crazy to want to keep my kids from killing as entertainment. Maybe there is no value in teaching them that sexual acts have a sacred quality to them. Maybe... but maybe not. <br />
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And so I just keep thinking that we change our minds about what we want for them somewhere along the line. And I am not sure what the motivator for that change is but not knowing bothers me. And I swear I am not trying to be judgmental and I totally get that the odd-man-out here is <i>me</i>. This is most obviously a non-issue for nearly every parent who is<i> not me</i>. But, I am left wondering about the impact that social norms have on our parenting. <br />
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Because the games in that store are totally the social norm. <br />
<br />
And maybe social norms tell us what is important. And we just listen. Even about Leap Frog. Except the impact of those Leap games is potentially very different from the impact of the games made for teens. <br />
<br />
I keep wondering about how long we have to try to pour into our kids all things that are good and helpful. How long does it matter and when do we loosen our grasp on this basic desire and tell ourselves that the expectation has changed and some things, even things that bother us, might just be okay? <br />
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Because it is just a game. <br />
<br />
Seriously. <br />
<br />
And they are going to be exposed to all of this <i>anyway. </i><br />
<br />
Right?<br />
<br />
But, I look at the faces of my two teen boys and their toddler faces shine back at me. These are still <i>those </i>boys. The boys that made me cry with their tears, who's giggles made me belly laugh, who's talents leave me speechless, who are entrusted to me to raise. And I so want to do this well. I make mistakes often and there is so much that we miss but I want to <i>do right by them</i>. I want to use all these minutes of all these years to pour into their lives before they head out the door carrying whatever we were able to pack in their hearts for the journey ahead. <br />
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And, I look at the faces of my two teen boys and I see that they are becoming the men that they are meant to be. And I am stuck wondering about what will matter to them as they grow up and foster friendships and relationships and start families of their own. I wonder if watching explicit sexual content will really impact their lives with their wives... but the truth is that I believe it will. <br />
<br />
And yes, I want them to understand and participate in current culture. And I want them to understand what their <i>faith</i> has to do with their <i>choices</i> and I want them to see where their belief systems intersect with what happens around them. <br />
<br />
But I also want them to see that sometimes, the disconnect is so great, that we must make another choice. Even when it is hard. I want them to <i>use their faith to choose their path</i>. I want them to know that we value life and it is not fun to pretend to take that away. <br />
<br />
The fact that we are careful with screens and with content has been hard for our kids sometimes. Their friends play games together that we choose not to buy. And they can feel left out. And I <i>hate</i> that. I hate it so much. And sometimes, I feel left out too. I know people judge us for our line in the sand and those same people may read this and think that I am judging them. But, the spirit of my words and my questions do not spring from judgement. Because who I am to judge? We know great kids, really great kids, who are gamers and thinkers and are really nice teens. So, all of this angst is not about judgment. And honestly, we do not need, in <i>any</i> way,to turn on one another. This parenting gig is hard. We need to stand side-by-side and not be afraid to ask questions and think aloud and try to figure it out together. The source of my conflict over the nature of gaming comes from a different place. Out of all the world, from all that has been created, it makes me sad that we choose to turn <i>this</i> into entertainment. Violence and sexual content. Is there really nothing else? Game after game after game after game after game... Death. Blood. Sex. Violence. <br />
<br />
And what does it say when the game creators have so clearly gotten the message that they do not even create games, save for token sports disks and some lame superhero tale, that are without these elements? There are no educational games for teens (or none that I have found... if you know of them, PLEASE share!) and hundreds and thousands of games that portray humans killing humans...<br />
<br />
That Portal 3 game that my boys would love? It just doesn't fit with what is now being made.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I want to give in or not care and say yes and just trust that the masses are right and I am thinking too much and its just a game and it doesn't matter in the great, big scope of life. I want my boys to <i>not</i> feel left out and to be able to connect with their friends in the way that teens today choose to connect. <br />
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And if you are still reading, I hope that you hear this part...<br />
<br />
You know what I want more? I want games that do not pander to the lowest common denominator and come forth from a belief that teens are smart and eager and creative. I want games that my kids can play with their friends (and even with a sibling) that draw from the <i>best </i>that teens are, not the worst that we believe they can be. I want games that are cool and intriguing and visually stunning that require my boys to use the brain they have been given to solve a problem, an issue, a war. So that someday, what they are playing now will lead to something good that they do in real life. <br />
<br />
Like respecting people. <br />
<br />
Like spreading peace. <br />
<br />
Like valuing life.<br />
<br />
<i>That's what I want. </i><br />
<br />
As parents, we need to choose wisely and be thoughtful about <i>why</i> we choose what we do. But my issue lies firmly with the people creating these games. Don't you dare tell me who my child is or sell him short and minimize his mind and heart! Can't you see that teens can do more that we think and get ready to do more than we did? Create games that lead in that way! <br />
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Because, <i>clearly</i> they need something deeper than Leap Frog but my desires for them have not changed. My dreams for them continue to grow. And these few years remaining are as precious as those preschool days... these few teen years are for <i>spending, not wasting;</i> for learning and preparing and having a blast. <br />
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Yes, the clock is ticking. <br />
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My time is running out. <br />
<br />
I need to be intentional <i>still...</i><br />
<br />
<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-67930380696546516722014-01-09T09:47:00.000-06:002014-01-09T09:47:03.691-06:00A New Year. A New Direction. <br />
<br />
So, here's what I know. <br />
<br />
Change is <i>not</i> impossible. Telling ourselves it cannot be is the way we get ourselves off the hook. (Nothing like starting the year off with honesty, right?) <br />
<br />
When we tell ourselves that we cannot:<br />
<br />
~help our child<br />
<br />
~lose that weight<br />
<br />
~break that habit<br />
<br />
~dig out of debt<br />
<br />
~create healthier relationships<br />
<br />
~tell the truth<br />
<br />
~change our lives<br />
<br />
what we are really saying is <i>we don't want those things</i>. Or we don't want to struggle to find the answer. Or we don't want to make the hard choice... which may really make things worse before making them any better. <br />
<br />
So, we sit in this place and find ourselves at the start of a brand new year in a very similar place to where we were last year and we feel<span style="font-size: large;"> hopeless</span>. And that is awful. For me, without a doubt, hopelessness is <i>BY FAR</i> the worst thing I could feel. It freezes me. Makes me want to turn my head away and do absolutely nothing.<br />
<br />
But it is all a lie, this hopelessness. I promise it is. <br />
<br />
<b>Don't believe it. </b><br />
<br />
And please do not even let yourself whisper that lie. Not to anyone. Especially not to yourself. <br />
<br />
Because here's the thing. Your child is not hopeless. And the situation you find yourself in, is not hopeless either. And all those things you think cannot happen because you are too tired or its been too long or you have tried everything or there is no way out... all of those things... ALL OF THEM... can change. <br />
<br />
But, because it is so big to even think about it, we continue to sit still. And then 2015 will come and here we will still be. <br />
<br />
What if today, we made one small move? What if today we decided that we would try one TINY thing? What if we got up off the couch and tried to squint our weary eyes and look for a new a path and just took one baby step in the direction of that new journey? What if making a change for ourselves, our families, our very lives had less to do with a huge, overwhelming task and more to do with willing ourselves to try in a new direction. <br />
<br />
The other night, our whole family was eating dinner talking about the possibility of taking a day to go skiing. My husband, Mark, loves the idea. My older boys, ages 16 and 15, are eager. My 11 year old, Josiah? He was scared to death! To him, the very idea of skiing seems reckless, terrifying, impossible. He is a cautious kid and always happy to find a cozy spot and enjoy a good book. Plummeting down a hill at unknown speeds with certain death at the bottom? He would rather not, thank you very much. <br />
<br />
For Josiah, the idea of trying this new thing is overwhelming. It is a change in his life that he cannot wrap his head around. He doesn't know HOW to ski and started telling all of us about how he doesn't know how to stop, doesn't know how to turn, what if he falls... etc... <br />
<br />
The details were just too much. <br />
<br />
As he put his head in hands at the table with us, Noah began to explain that while it all seems hard, it really is not. <br />
<br />
"In fact," he said, "if you want to turn, all you have to do is glance in that direction and you will begin to turn. Glancing changes your balance just enough to gently move you in a new direction." <br />
<br />
Sixteen-year-olds can be so wise. <br />
<br />
Today is not the first day of a brand new year. <i>And it does not have to be.</i> But change can come where it is needed... if we only move in a new direction. It's not overwhelming, you see? It's not a about a great big bunch of overwhelming tasks. <br />
<br />
No. <br />
<br />
Just look. Seriously. Turn your head just a tiny titch. Glance in a new direction. <br />
<br />
See that little glint? <br />
<br />
It might be far away.<br />
<br />
But it<i> is</i> there. <br />
<br />
It is hope. <br />
<br />
HOPE. <br />
<br />
Let's head toward it this year. <br />
<br />
Blessings on your day. <br />
<br />
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<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-49122854300905963312013-10-07T11:40:00.000-05:002013-10-07T11:40:24.337-05:00Josiah's Alone<br />
<br />
It was a two-word text. And I was driving so I could not read it until I found a red light. <br />
<br />
If it wasn't for the rain, I would have been sitting on metal bleachers, screaming and whistling for my freshman on the field. But, though most of the day was clear, the skies filled in and flooded over just in time to cancel my second born's game. <br />
<br />
As soon as the game was called, my daughter and I ran through the deluge with hopes of watching Josiah play in a nearby town. I could have made a lot of choices that day but knowing that I need to pay attention to my girl, especially when we are out and about alone, I stopped at a nearby Starbucks to splurge on a tasty treat. We were not there long. But long enough. <br />
<br />
As we drove, I called my husband to find out if that game, like Benjamin's, would be canceled. Only 8 miles from where we were, it was sunny. The game was on and we were late. Because Mark is also Josiah's coach, I relaxed a bit knowing he has dad nearby and invested my energy in the girly chit-chat that filled our family van. <br />
<br />
Then my phone made a noise. <br />
<br />
Then the light turned red. <br />
<br />
Then I read the text. <br />
<br />
"Josiah scored!" <br />
<br />
Instantly my eyes welled with tears. Because this moment has been coming for so long. Because I know that I was never promised a child who could do what this child just did and the reality of that washed over me in brand new ways. <br />
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I cried because, when this child was still inside, the doctor had to look at us and express his concerns. And we had to hear words like "connective tissue" and "markers for Down's Syndrome". And tears came quickly because when the time came for this child to be born, he took so long and was born so blue, and he took a long time to cry. And while this child was not born with Down's Syndrome, he was born with an arm that did not work and muscles that were low-tone, but with a demeanor that made so many smile. This child, for all his struggles as a tiny boy, was easy and happy and smart and faithful. This child, found a path that we did not know existed... different from his brothers' and fully his own. This peaceful child learned to sing before he could speak and to listen to what is said and also what is not. And while he was a blessing all his own, we did not know what the future would hold, if he would be able to play soccer, much less score. <br />
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And now, over a decade after his difficult birth, with two miraculous arms that work and play piano, dulcimer and cello, this sweet boy took the field and for the first time ever, scored with a beautiful shot high in the far corner of the net. He did it. <i>He did it.</i> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And I missed it. <br />
<br />
It breaks my heart that I could not see it happen the way it did. But, in our family, the boys always score at the games I miss. So in a strange twist of events, it was perfectly played because when the time came for Josiah to kick that ball, he did it in his own way but also in the way his brothers have always done. <br />
<br />
And while I wish had been there to see it play out, here is what I did not miss. <br />
<br />
Having made it in time to watch over half of his game, I was there when the final whistle blew. I was there when Josiah walked off the field with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, looking just a bit taller than before. I was there when he giggled about scoring when I was not there and compared himself to his two big brothers. I was there when he ran to me joyfully and wrapped his arms, <i>two good arms</i>, around my waist and leaned his head in for a kiss. I was there when he talked throughout the whole ride home, telling and retelling, the wonder of his tale. All of that I have. To store up and remember and hold on to forever. A little glimpse at what a miracle looks like lived in ordinary ways. <br />
<br />
The goal itself? I missed that part. But it is not mine to have. <br />
<br />
That moment, that glory, that powerful kick, <i>that</i> is Josiah's alone. <br />
<br />
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Blessings on your day. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-39089916765229545372013-09-27T12:24:00.000-05:002013-09-27T12:24:48.709-05:00Clearer Vision on an Ordinary Night<br />
I did not expect it to happen this way. And to be honest, I am a little embarrassed. Maybe being a mom may offer me some sort of pass but that's no excuse for finding myself overwhelmed by a sudden realization that literally brought me to tears. In public. <br />
<br />
Thank goodness for sunglasses.<br />
<br />
It began as an ordinary day. The kids were all at school while I spent the day writing and answering speaker requests. I made dinner early and packed snacks to bring to the high school soccer game I would attend that afternoon and evening.<br />
<br />
Normal. Normal. Normal. <br />
<br />
I made it to the games with plenty of time to settle in and chat with the other soccer parents who had gotten there before me. The JV team took the field and battled through a great game. It was a gorgeous day. Seriously. We are in the midst of a week or two of perfect weather. Warm days, cool nights. Perfect. In the stands, we commented on the beautiful sunset that was to come and talked about how glad we were that the sun was about to dip beneath the trees.<br />
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When the JV game ended, we settled in for what would be another 2 hours of soccer, this time watching the Varsity players. My oldest plays for this team and is a junior at the high school. The team warmed up. Just before standing for the national anthem, the starting line-up was introduced. The team, gathered near their bench, huddled together to cheer on each player being called to the center of the field. I have seen this done a hundred times. Except, this time was different. My son's name was called and I saw his blond head running through his team. He began his run out to meet up with his teammates on the field and in a split second, it happened. And I never saw it coming. <br />
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As he ran forward, the whole of his life passed right before me. I am not kidding or exaggerating or being dramatic. I didn't plan it or even think it or know it was coming. It was an ordinary day and all of a sudden I am crying, in public, because I could see it all. I could see him starting preschool in his yellow jacket, learning to play soccer with his skinny little legs, pouring over a book with his furrowed brow, laughing in the backyard while our dog licked his face, biking down the street with his hair in the wind, walking confidently across the middle school graduation stage, and heading tentatively into high school on that very first day. I could see his infant face and his now-grown face and all the ways those faces are exactly the same. And then, I could feel that <i>it is almost done.</i> I knew, in some deep visceral way, that the number of times I get to do this is getting smaller and that for all the days that raising children feels like a job that I will have forever, this moment was clarifying the truth. There is an end-game. And I am standing way too close. <br />
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I sat in the stands, choking back tears (as I am doing right now), and praying that no one would see. I talked myself off the ledge and reasoned that my boy is only a JUNIOR. I have another whole year on top of the one we just began! I practiced my Lamaze breathing and dabbed casually at my eyes but I could not look away. Because there he stood. Taller than me and standing proudly in the center of a field he knows as well as our own backyard. There he stood, closer to leaving than staying, far more adult than boy. How does anyone not cry when you suddenly see the truth? And when the truth holds so much depth and beauty and history and love, how are we not moved to tears? <br />
<br />
On that nearly perfect night, I realized in brand new ways how blessed I am to parent this one good boy. I realized that it is a gift beyond measure to find yourself sharing your life with teenager that you genuinely love and cannot bear to lose. I realized that it matters that I pay attention to the absolutely ordinary days because, really, that is what makes up our lives. And someday, I do not think I will be trying to recall all the big events we lived together as a family as much as I will be holding tight to the wonder that is found on a soccer field in September in the dusk of an ordinary night. <br />
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Blessings on your day. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-71572233780679988952013-09-11T12:37:00.000-05:002013-09-11T12:37:05.489-05:00Blog Rewind: 9/11-- The Way It Happened For Us<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">:::Each year, I post our experiences from September 11. This is the day, as I remember it, twelve years ago:::</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
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Noah was four. Benjamin was almost three. I had MOMs Group that morning and was trying desperately to get ready for the opening meeting of our season. The boys were watching Blue's Clues and I was trying to run a brush through my tangled tresses while answering the phone ringing with requests from freshman college students for keys and ideas and notes about classes. We were living at Trinity Christian College then, our family of four, as residence directors of South Hall.<br />
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I was later than I should have been and needed to get to church. I almost didn't answer the phone but thinking better of ignoring a call, I grabbed it and ran to the back to find shoes for my day. It was Mark. </div>
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"Is the TV on?" he asked.</div>
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<br />
"The boys are watching Blue's Clues..." </div>
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<br />
He said, "Nadia, we have been attacked. You have to turn on the news. Something bad is happening."</div>
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<br />
I don't remember hanging up but I remember turning the channel and looking at my boys... those little blond heads... those bright, wide eyes. I saw it then. So did they. The look on Diane Sawyer's face. The tone of Peter Jennings voice. The buildings. The airplanes. We stood still, the three of us and I suddenly thought that I needed to protect my boys. </div>
<div>
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I took them by the hands and led them to their toys. I turned off the sound on the TV and read through the captions instead. I tried to process it all, tried to think, tried to figure out what you do when this happens. <em>I had no idea</em>.</div>
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<br />
Working on a college campus is a complicated thing. I had a responsibility that morning to my babies playing with blocks<em> and</em> to the 250 freshmen students who lived in my building. Our building did not have cable and they were in class. Somehow they would have to be told what had happened to their country and without knowing exactly what to say, I typed a sign that we would hang in the building to help them to know that something had changed... that something had happened... that what we thought we were, where we thought we lived, how safe we felt, had all become something incredibly different. I did not save that document on my computer. I wish I would have. I know that I typed something about a terrorist attack in New York. I know that I tried to be calm and clear and follow Peter Jennings lead of giving only the information we actually knew. It suddenly felt like we knew nothing at all. </div>
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After posting the signs on every door in South Hall, I left quickly for church and the MOMs Group I helped to run. It was our opening morning. The boys were uncharacteristically quiet on the drive and I put the radio on only in the front of our truck. As I drove, a building fell. On the radio, they announced that several other airplanes were still "missing" and that they had no idea what to expect. I called Mark from the truck. He works downtown Chicago in a building that is part of our skyline. </div>
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"Come home." I said. </div>
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He told me that he was not sure he would be allowed to leave and I pleaded with him explaining that he really might not be safe. He talked about job security. He could not see the TV. He had NO idea what it looked like. The video was <em>very motivating</em>. </div>
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"If they fire you for leaving on a day like today, so be it. COME HOME."</div>
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He agreed and made plans to leave the city. </div>
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By the time I got to MOMs Group, the second building had fallen. Into church came moms, at least three with multiples, juggling their children and questioning the day. We had quads, triplets and twins in the nursery, tired mommas drinking coffee and a ministry to run. </div>
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Auto-pilot. Two and a half hours of auto-pilot. Welcome. Pray. Wonder. Chat. Wonder. Worry. Chat. Pray.</div>
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My cell phone rang as the moms were leaving. Mark was out of the city. We live 30 minutes from downtown and the commute had taken him nearly <em>three hours</em>. By the time he had gotten to the train to come home there were thousands of people downtown, crammed underground, fleeing Chicago in hopes of getting safely home to their families. He said it was scary seeing so many people in one place... knowing we could be attacked and thinking how they sat, waiting for trains, like sitting ducks. </div>
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We met at a restaurant and I don't know if I have ever been so happy to see him. Our city was never hit... but thinking that it might be was overwhelming to me. I could not begin to imagine the loss and heartbreak New York was experiencing... they were people just like me... but I had my husband home. I had him in front of me having a burger and thinking through this experience in discussion and exchanged glances and deep silences filled with words we would never be able to say. </div>
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By the time I got back to campus, the students were absorbing the news and were overflowing with questions and worries and feelings none of us knew how to process. The other residence directors and I met together quickly while Mark kept the boys away from any media sources. We had to do something but <em>what do you do</em>? No RD training that we had ever gotten had prepared us for helping the students to understand a terrorist attack on our country. We thought through the possible needs and planned to offer a live feed of the president's address that evening available in the college chapel. We called therapists, pastors and history professors to be on hand that night to meet the students where they were. </div>
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That evening after the president spoke, we let the students ask questions and I remember trying to answer them... knowing almost nothing myself. Everything about that day was outside my comfort zone. After the gathering, Mark and I sat in our South Hall apartment while students met with someone who could help them more than we could. Some were in prayer groups. Some were with therapists. Some were with pastors. Some were pondering the historical pieces with professors who could shed light on what this all might mean. I sat stunned in my apartment. Then, there was a student at the door... she was weeping. I invited her to come in. </div>
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I knew this young woman well and loved her positive outlook and example to students. It was so early in the year that there were more students we DID NOT know than those we did. But this one, I knew. She rushed into my apartment and sat on the couch. She cried and Mark and I waited for feelings to flow to thoughts to flow to words. I cried too. </div>
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"I don't know what's wrong with me... " she began, "but I just keep thinking about how sad I am for THEM... for the terrorists who were SO LOST that they would participate in such <em>total evil</em>." </div>
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Tears again. </div>
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We talked for a while about how she felt bad about feeling bad for them... about how her friends did not understand... about how there is no way to know how we will feel about something like this because we never saw it coming and have no way yet to process it at all. </div>
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We cried and prayed and then, with fewer tears, she left the calm of our apartment for the chaos of the residence hall. Mark and I talked about how hard it was for them... for the students who had<em> just</em> graduated from high school, <em>just</em> left for college, <em>just</em> been handed their world, only to find it laying in pieces at their flip-flopped feet. </div>
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Over time, the words ran out. The campus quieted. Around midnight, we closed our apartment door. And that was it... the end of the day. </div>
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For weeks after that day, I begged Mark to stay home again. I did not know how I would ever trust him to be safe in the city again. If they got New York, they could get Chicago, too. For months I could not go to the city I love so well.... and when I did, I got teary just thinking about the what ifs... </div>
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Most people have memories of that time in their lives. We have something more concrete. Because Mark shot video of all campus happenings throughout each school year, we have video taken on campus on September 10. That night we had run a program for roommates to get to know on another better. "Something to Chew On" was a laugh-out-loud list of questions intended to spark conversation between women who were just getting to know each other as friends. The students had come in pajamas and giggled like school girls and eaten cookies with hot chocolate just 12 hours before the whole world changed. It is strange to watch it now... knowing what the morning would bring, knowing what would follow on Mark's videotape next. A presidential address. Prayer groups. Professors discussing. Students embracing. September 11, 2001 in the lower right corner of the shot. </div>
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It has been twelve years. My boys, now 16 and almost 15 still remember that morning. They called it "the day the airplanes knocked over the buildings" for years, though they now know what it all really was. Our lives are different than they were then and I cannot claim they are not. For months following September 11 people said that if we changed anything about our day to day lives, the terrorists won. Such a strange request... to NOT change after having been through such a significant experience. <em>I am changed</em>. Maybe this is their victory but maybe, just maybe, it is mine. </div>
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Since September 11:</div>
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-I never take my skyline for granted. I love my city deeper and better than ever before and pray for those who lost loved ones in New York every time I drive into Chicago. I am raising my kids to know that we are exceedingly blessed to live where we live and love the city we call home. </div>
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-I value my family in a way I never knew to value them before. Finding out that the world can change first thing in the morning on a clear September day gave me perspective that makes me hug them tighter and hold them longer than I might have otherwise done. </div>
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-I understand bravery and sacrifice in a way that I never did before. How does a fire fighter rush into a building that will surely fall? How do you help when you know it may cost you <em>everything</em>? Sacrifice no longer means writing a check to help feed the hungry. It means giving it all. <em>Offering it all</em>. And I still stand AMAZED at those who did just that on the morning of 9/11. </div>
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-I know now that I cannot shelter my kids in the way I may have thought necessary before. Instead, I have to teach them... to see, to think, to feel, to learn and to build bridges... and yes, to be careful. Sheltering is nice but <em>preparing is essential</em>. I am careful in how this happens but I am also careful to be sure that it does. </div>
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Since September 11, truth be told, I am sometimes fearful, sometimes worried, sometimes unsure about what is happening in this world. But, hope is built as I see life go forward, as I watch my children grow up, as I enjoy a clear day in Chicago. We, as a country, were not destroyed. We did not become something dark and sad and broken. We, as a country, as a family, moved on to what was new for us. A new way to live and to love and to trust and to grow. <em>There is hope in that</em>. Can you see it, too? </div>
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Twelve years have gone by. It is hard to believe. The names are being read. The president is speaking. We all promise to remember and in doing so, honor the lives of those who were lost on that dark day. And as I sit here now, the faces of so many beloved students flash through my mind... those who walked with us as we found a path we never knew we would need... All of us, the students, MOMs Group, my two blond babies now grown taller, we all are connected in a way that is deeper and more profound than we otherwise would have felt. I am grateful for that because in my confusion and sadness and loss and anger, I did not walk alone.<i> We</i> did not walk alone. God granted us community. He spoke in human voices. He reached out through hands that were cloaked in flesh and blood. Through friends and family and acquaintances and community, God granted comfort to us in our grief. No, we were not<i> then </i>and are not<i> now</i> alone. And in that small but powerful way, the victory, the blessing, is ours. <br />
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-26380540147701289832013-06-25T14:05:00.000-05:002013-06-25T14:05:05.981-05:00It's Okay to Need a Break...<br />
The house is quiet. I am grateful. <br />
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My older boys are away this week and we are missing them already. The little ones are reading and while I can hear lawn mowers outdoors and the clicking of my keys as I type, there is otherwise no sound to take up the space in my brain. <br />
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Yes, grateful. <br />
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The summer months have a way of filling up and getting loud and demanding attention and activity. But sometimes, I need to sit and be still and breathe deeply in a calm and quiet space. <br />
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You, too? <br />
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It's okay, you know, to take a minute and step outside and let the chaos continue away from you while you soak up the silence that can refresh your self. It's okay to need it and okay to seek it and okay to know that your day is better if you can just <i>find a break.</i> <br />
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You are not the only momma who has locked the bathroom door, who has sat in the van while parked in the driveway, who has put on the TV and then walked away. You are not the only momma who looks at the calendar filled with 80+ summer days and wondered what to do with <i>all that time.</i> You are not the only one. <br />
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So, if it is getting kinda loud and your nerves are fried and you are finding yourself answering in a terse, tight tone, give yourself a minute and find a quiet space and take some intentional deep breaths. Watch the leaves on the trees dance in the breeze and let yourself unwind just a little, tiny bit. Or better yet, open that same door and send the kids outside and make a quick cup of coffee to sip while you sit still in the house doing absolutely, positively <i>nothing at all.</i> <br />
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Because sometimes you need a break. <br />
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We all do. <br />
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And, it's okay.<br />
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Blessings on your day.Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-21169297081831408002013-06-21T11:14:00.002-05:002013-06-25T14:05:37.015-05:00Who Gets to Choose?:::A blog post about Mommas that could be about Daddy's too:::<br />
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Cookies or chicken for dinner?<br />
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Play video games all night or rest well?<br />
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Play outside or in?<br />
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Study or not?<br />
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Stretch your comfort zone or stay settled?<br />
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Which would <i>your kids</i> choose? <br />
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This parenting gig is tricky. Sixteen and a half years ago, my first born was placed in my arms and my husband and I began this walk together. Some days, we have chosen paths for them (and for us) that are easy and agreeable. But, some days the choices are cloudy and we rely heavily on our limited wisdom and experience to decide what is needful for our children and what truly matters to our family and try as we might, the "right-ness" of those decisions can be a little less sure than we hope. <br />
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It is hard to know what is best...<br />
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But, of this I am sure: my children are not the best judges of what is best for them. Left to their own devices, they would choose as children choose and I think I am glad for this because it does, in fact, prove that my sweet babies are blessed with a lives that<i> allow</i> them to be children. Not everyone has been offered this privilege. But, given that they are young and their view is limited and their goals for themselves are sometimes smaller than need be, the choices made on their behalf can sometimes be met with resistance. <br />
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What's a momma to do?<br />
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What's a momma to do when she knows that piano lessons are truly a gift and the child doesn't feel like practicing? What's a momma to do when she knows the value of fruits and veggies and unprocessed foods and the child is sure that a bag of chips and a cookie provides more than enough protein to get by? What's a momma to do when she knows that being present with those you are present with means more than texting the person who is elsewhere and the child is sure that being in contact electronically with many matters more than seeing the face of the one nearby? What's a momma to do when she knows that camp experiences matter, that growth and laughter come out of relationship and community and that kids learn much about themselves when they step out in faith and the child is sure that it matters most to be still and home and without plan or structure? <br />
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What's a momma to do?<br />
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It is all so hard. <br />
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But today, I am reminding myself that on that day when I first held my son, I had to learn a new reliance on God. Because, left to my own devices, my choices can be much like those of my children. Today, I am reminding myself, that these four children have been <i>entrusted</i> to me. Not <i>given</i> to me. And for the very few years that I get to share with them, it is my job to seek wisdom and to act on it. And there is nothing easy about that. But the truth is that I did not just get the title of "Mom", <i>I got the job itself.</i> And within that endless job description, we will find points like these:<br />
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~The Mom will deeply know each child. She will learn about their God-given strengths and weaknesses. <br />
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~The Mom will find ways to enforce said strengths and build up such weaknesses.<br />
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~The Mom will find opportunities for her children to learn and grow in ways that are needful and ways that are fun.<br />
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~The Mom will provide a home that serves as a launching pad, preparing her children for the necessary life lessons and experiences that her children will encounter. <br />
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~The Mom will provide a home that serves as a landing pad, welcoming home from experiences and enfolding her children back into family life again and again and again. <br />
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~The Mom will pray and dream for her children.<br />
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~The Mom will listen to the words and hearts of her children.<br />
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~The Mom will stand firm in what she feels is right and needful, even in the face of childhood adversity.<br />
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~The Mom will teach her children to choose well by allowing them to practice but will never give a choice where a choice is not given.<br />
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There is no end to this list. No end. <br />
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The truth is we have to actually <i>be the Mom. </i> And what that means is that I will act out of love on behalf of my kids. When they like it. And when they don't. <br />
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Which is hard. <br />
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So yes, they will eat their veggies, practice piano, volunteer their time, turn off the TV, stretch their comfort zones, do their homework and be held accountable to the whole of it. Not because I am mean but because I love them dearly and because every day God allows me a little glimpse into who they might become. And some days they can see that, too. But some days they cannot. So, while we are here together, I am going to try to focus on the big picture and stand up for what is needful and pray and pray and pray for them even when they fuss about what we choose. Even when it is hard and I am weary and we do not all agree. <br />
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Because, I am their Mom. And because he is their Dad. And the job is big and difficult and beautiful and today, I choose to do it. Out of the big-ness of this love, I choose to do it.<br />
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Blessings on your day. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-85111033503235095992013-06-18T07:35:00.000-05:002013-06-18T07:35:48.498-05:00Planning for Summer: Details #3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The other night, we were burning old sticks and other yard waste in our fire pit out back. The fire has a way of mesmerizing us and slowly each member of our little family came to stand around the growing flame. The yard fell quiet and we watched. <br />
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After a few minutes, Noah said, "Dad, if I started to fall in... could you still run to catch me like you did when I was little?"<br />
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Wistful smiles lit all our faces.<br />
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We have this story that we tell from a camping trip we took when Noah was very little. He was, in fact, so little that his feet did not reach the ground when seated in a tiny folding (bag) chair. On the day of the occurrence, we were sitting around a campfire with our family and friends while Mark stepped away to grab more wood from a nearby pile. Noah decided to get off his tiny chair and because he had shifted his weight, the whole chair began to fall toward the fire. Mark looked up just in the nick of time and, dropping the wood he was carrying, jumped forward and caught Noah before he fell hands and face into the fire! It was a scary moment for all and a moment I am still left grateful for my husband's quick reflexes.<br />
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But, over the years the story has grown...<br />
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"And dad, who was way on the other side of our campsite, jumped over everything to save your life..."<br />
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"And dad, who was walking back from the camp store, sensed danger and ran to you just in time to save your life..."<br />
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"And dad, who was driving back from the next county, ditched the car and FLEW to your side to save your life..."<br />
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"And dad, who was in Australia, seeing the Sydney Opera House, challenged the bounds of time and space and used his amazing intuition to know he was needed at the campsite and came to your just in time to save your life..."<br />
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For 14 of Noah's 16 years, we have told and retold that story. Always around a fire. Always when we are together. Always a little different, a little bigger than the time before. <br />
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But, we never tell it in the car. Or at a game. Or at a school event. Or while doing chores, or homework, or projects. The stuff of family lore grows up out of slow times, out of down times, out of TIME that is spent and time that we have...<br />
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This is stuff of summer. <br />
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We have been given this gift of time. <i>And while it may be overwhelming now that our toes are in the tide of it, there is wonder to be found if we can keep far from the risk of drowning in the very thing we seek. </i><br />
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But how?<br />
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1. <b> Do not over-plan</b>. After a school year of busy nights and days, we need to allow for some time to sit. We need to allow for time to hang in the backyard and sit still and be together. Society has pushed an ideal that we must always be DOING SOMETHING. Oh, what a lie this is! Sometimes, we need to pull a chair into the driveway, throw out some sidewalk chalk and sit with our kids nearby. Sometimes, we need to lay a blanket on the grass and watch the lightning bugs fly. Sometimes, we need to build a fire and sit together and watch the flames lick down the logs. We need to tell stories and be quiet. We need to remember and build memories. And we need to know that all memories do not come from events... some grow beautifully in the nothingness of a warm summer evening. <br />
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2. <b> Be flexible!</b> Last weekend, I had a planned a grilled dinner for Father's Day followed by a campfire and s'mores in the backyard. Mark and all the kids were coming home from a soccer tournament that Noah played in all weekend. They were tired. They were hot. And after we ate that wonderful meal, not one of them wanted to sit next to a roaring fire and do anything. So, we didn't. Instead, the little ones had long, cool showers and we watched a favorite program and we relaxed together inside. Sometimes our visions for what that together time should look like will be more cumbersome than we hope. Relax. Be together. If that is the goal, let the details fall where they will. <br />
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3. <b>Remember that little things count. </b> As families across the nation plan elaborate vacations and expensive outings, it is easy to feel like this is what summer should resemble. Whenever I am tempted to fall prey to that mindset, I remember a conversation I had with Noah a few years back. It was the end of an uneventful spring break and I was standing by the barbecue talking with my boy. We had not gone on vacation and I was feeling a bit disappointed about not DOING more with my kids. Out of the blue, Noah began to talk about how he loves when we are home for spring break. Shocked, I asked him to tell me more. He explained that what he wanted was time... down time. He wanted to be with his family at home. And when we rush around all the time, he misses that. I call that conversation to mind from time to time in an effort to remind myself that little things count. <i>In fact, sometimes the little things are actually the big things. </i> Look for them... allow for them.... Take a walk together. Sit together and read. Ride bikes. BE. If you have 15 minutes and a bit of energy left at the end of the day, you can spend a bit of time with your family sharing a summer night. <br />
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A few years ago, we were driving home from visiting friends and stopped at a beach to let the kids stretch their legs and put their toes in the water. We had our dog, Lexie, with us. She had never been in Lake Michigan before. For about an hour and a half, my kids splashed in the lake. They laughed out loud at Lexie's swimming ability. Toes in the water became shoulders in the water and they loaded back into the van, wrapped in towels, tired and happy. To hear them talk about that experience, you would think we were gone for a week. That brief stop at the beach has become a vacation to them and it cost us not a thing. But, it was a gift of time. It was a gift of yes in the midst of a long car ride. It was just us together and they LOVED it. <br />
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There is a time and a place for vacations and get-aways. Yes, they matter too. But these three months of summer offer us something bigger than trips and experiences. It offers us the space we need to sit still, to look--<i>really look</i>--into the faces of our kids and see them anew. There is no homework to be done, no pressing project, just bits of time in which we can choose to be together in ways that the rest of the year makes tricky. <br />
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And it is not hard.<br />
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And it is not expensive.<br />
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But it matters to them... and to us.<br />
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Blessings on your day. Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-21713841757338365852013-06-03T12:24:00.001-05:002013-06-03T12:57:08.883-05:00Updated Blog Rewind: The Last Day of School<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">With the last day of school coming quickly, I wanted to take a brief break from the Getting Ready for Summer Series I have been writing and share with you what we do on the last day of school. I wrote most of this several years ago but our routines remain. Read on for some ideas about how to make the most of the last day of school! </span></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf306I3AZf_AuEqCD2V6jt4VxmWvf-r2Nq5FQD9VxmRiZIqKvB8qb6fGEk3OiJr25wMQEaux7Y0L57LVvH1m44qNJE-Etn6XBPGMcDo-xLEkcY0p9Vdxc9WRzKB7xsJCtqDt9o1kBHtUWJ/s1600-h/029.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883190135633570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf306I3AZf_AuEqCD2V6jt4VxmWvf-r2Nq5FQD9VxmRiZIqKvB8qb6fGEk3OiJr25wMQEaux7Y0L57LVvH1m44qNJE-Etn6XBPGMcDo-xLEkcY0p9Vdxc9WRzKB7xsJCtqDt9o1kBHtUWJ/s320/029.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>Years ago, when I was working at Trinity, I learned huge lessons about the importance of closure from a resident assistant who was working with me at the time. Katie was especially gifted at nurturing relationships and in her professional and private life, she always made sure to make both beginnings and endings in special ways. While I had known, in my head, how crucial it is to find ways to offer closure at appropriate times, Katie taught me how that LOOKED as she lived it out before me. This has had an impact on my life as a parent that I did not expect.<br />
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Our children attend a nearby Christian school and they adore the time they spend there. Every year, they learn so much and show such enthusiasm for these new bits of knowledge. The teachers are passionate about their work and exceedingly loving in how they treat their students. The school overall does a phenomenal job of building community and connecting students K-8 in ways that brings out the best in each child. It is exactly the educational experience I had envisioned for my children and I am so grateful that they are able to attend this school. But, the end of the year is always bittersweet. While they eagerly anticipate the free and relaxing days of summer, knowing that they will walk out of their classrooms and away from their beloved teachers for the last time brings on a sadness that is saved specifically for year-end. Yes, less time with friends is a part of this equation but it is the loss of a year well-spent that makes my children sad. </div>
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So, seeing this trend from the beginning of their school years, we have established traditions that help to take the edge off the end. Year after year, we conclude our classes with carefully chosen activities that offer to them (and me) Katie's closure. </div>
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Weeks before the school year ends, we begin to talk about making the most of our final days. We talk about ending well, working and playing hard. We try to be extra aware of academic issues, spending more time studying for tests and completing projects. In our house, the end of the year is so full, so busy, that it would be easy to let all of this slide. And sometimes we do. But, paying extra attention helps a lot as the final grades are recorded and the days wind down. </div>
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The night before the school year ends, I sit with each of my kids and we talk about what they are thankful for in school. We recall the amazing experiences they shared with classmates and the special gifts that each of their teachers offered to them. And then, with all this fresh in their heads, we write thank you letters. I encourage them to do this on their own. The words and memories are theirs and, for us, it has proven to be an important experience to take a minute to not only <em>be </em>grateful but to express that gratitude to someone with whom they have shared this year. (And<em>...this is top secret</em>... after my sweet babies have all gone to bed, Mark scans these precious words into our computer leaving us with a legacy of thankfulness that is heartwarming to review.) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHVrMz1T2XRm4ovSDLvnUzS5I_5estLUcaFaGbMfOpBloz2dqFLylnH8pl_T4fFYHiyD5tYNjzIMflK7yUzRHYSaNJWoVJZMuJV1ttlaV_Q6py-rjg2Kh9NZhl7qCnyip9fUeY9V1-TY3/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883183551472882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHVrMz1T2XRm4ovSDLvnUzS5I_5estLUcaFaGbMfOpBloz2dqFLylnH8pl_T4fFYHiyD5tYNjzIMflK7yUzRHYSaNJWoVJZMuJV1ttlaV_Q6py-rjg2Kh9NZhl7qCnyip9fUeY9V1-TY3/s320/027.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUT5q6BLmFG3p2vPb80zcx9xdytR1OVmL4mpBeKugw9tJShlJ4W7yDleCyoZ92QE22bW-Q95RaH5KqlrbQH7vFnSZQ8cgTN2eOA2Hk5WttwRZKtN_-TDANToCtwrkorRqwIfX1tShqcaP/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883178363272546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUT5q6BLmFG3p2vPb80zcx9xdytR1OVmL4mpBeKugw9tJShlJ4W7yDleCyoZ92QE22bW-Q95RaH5KqlrbQH7vFnSZQ8cgTN2eOA2Hk5WttwRZKtN_-TDANToCtwrkorRqwIfX1tShqcaP/s320/025.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jHgm63UcM9OeweKR7O7z2iqHiZtpwyGBj2V1wClgmnVrPtKPoK13y_o5dmCk7IW1v8169c-faiqqjXp4q8NxE3gdF67uxhm-hfHzoky6CtZiLw_D_rQ0q7whQoMpwgCE3cYVgOoMT_b1/s1600-h/023.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883176273873858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jHgm63UcM9OeweKR7O7z2iqHiZtpwyGBj2V1wClgmnVrPtKPoK13y_o5dmCk7IW1v8169c-faiqqjXp4q8NxE3gdF67uxhm-hfHzoky6CtZiLw_D_rQ0q7whQoMpwgCE3cYVgOoMT_b1/s320/023.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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On the last day of school, my kids wear the same outfit they wore on the first day of school. We take pictures of them in front of the house standing and sitting right where they were in August... it is amazing how much they grow and change each year!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our four kiddos, first day of school last year! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same four kids, nine months later! </td></tr>
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Then, after we pray together and they head into school, I begin a lot of behind-the-scenes running and errands to help that day be all that it needs to be. First, I run to buy flowers. It is our tradition to give each teacher a bouquet of flowers or a hanging basket as part of our thank you to them. Sometimes, we have also prepared baked goods to give them as well. (This year, I have already begun baking mini banana breads for all the teachers.) It is my goal to be at school, flowers in tow, by 10:00 for the first recess of the day. With the thank you notes from the children, the baked goods and the flowers, I go from classroom to classroom giving these to the boys to give to their teachers. While I am there, I take a picture of each child with their teacher and then leave them to finish their day.</div>
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Once this is done, I run out to buy lunch for the kids. I pack this into the van and then head back to school. I get back in time to talk with other mommas as we wait for the kids to come out. This year, Josiah asked if we could also decorate the van with window markers for the last day of school. :) When everyone comes out, I hug my sad kids and they say good-bye to what will always be an important time in their young lives. With teachers waving from the sidewalk and parking lot and many young arms waving from buses and windows, it all comes to an end. The tears do not belong to the children alone. These amazing teachers who have loved their students so well are often misty, too. It is a bittersweet moment for all... reluctantly turning from the blessing of the school year to face full-on summer coming. </div>
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With everyone in the van we head off to the ultimate distraction from all things sad, a trip to the park to have lunch with friends from school!<br />
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By now, the lunches bought much earlier have grown a little cold but in the last 8 years, I have yet to have one complaint. Arriving at the park, the kids run off to sit at picnic tables with those to whom they have just said good-bye. Eating quickly, they then run and scream and laugh and play at a park we reserve just for this. The moms sit together and dream of days with later starts and worry a bit about filling seemingly-endless weeks with meaningful experiences.<br />
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After a couple of hours, everyone exhausted, we pack it up to head home and relax. The intensity of emotion has waned by then and the kids are drained but content. Traditions behind us, summer begins. And it is full and it is good and we are ready.<br />
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Blessings on your day!</div>
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-58072347169426303092013-05-30T10:48:00.000-05:002013-05-30T10:49:57.739-05:00Planning for Summer: Details #2Ready for more thoughts about summer? :) <br />
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So, we talked about the academic piece but what about developing needed skills and talents? I love these open months for doing just that! <br />
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Before we go any further, just think for a minute about what your child really loves. Consider what skills they will need in the next year? What talents are emerging for each of your kids? What things do they need to do or learn that YOU believe will be helpful for them? Summer is the perfect time to work at some of these! <br />
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Here are some things we are going to do or have done in the past:<br />
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1. <b>Sports and Christian Camps: </b> Generally, each summer I like for my kids to have one structured event to help them grow athletically and one to help them grow spiritually. We look for places that offer reasonably priced opportunities that can move our children along developmentally in these areas. We love the sports camps offered by <a href="http://www.trnty.edu/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=474&Itemid=1052">Trinity Christian College </a>because they are low stress, open to all levels, very local and affordable. Sometimes other moms ask me what they should do if their child just doesn't want to do it... really just wants to sit around for the summer... We tell our kids that sitting around for the summer is<i> not</i> what we want for them. We work with them to choose things that they will enjoy but yes, some of those things WILL be active and some will be athletic. Are all of our kids athletic? Nope. But running around in the sun is good for any kid and because we are the parents, we get to direct them in ways that will benefit them. The same is true for Christian camps. We believe strongly in the value of such experiences. All of our kids were not ready for sleep away camps at the same age but all of our kids have experienced some sort of Christian camp. Some of our kids eat that up! Some do not love it. We have offered some flexibility here but also talk with our kids about how to meet those spiritual needs if going off to a Christian camp is not a perfect fit. As someone who came to faith in the camp environment and worked all my college summers at a Christian camp, these experiences hold a deep and firm place in my heart. My life was transformed in ways I could not have imagined while sitting with friends at camp. If you have not considered this for your child, I highly, HIGHLY recommend it. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving for sleep-away camp for the very first time!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soccer camp is so much fun! </td></tr>
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2. <b>Lessons:</b> While our summer schedule is MUCH more laid back than our school-year days, I have found that getting my kids lessons for the things that they love (or want to love) during the summer months can be really helpful. With one of our kids, we began piano lessons during the summer months with hopes that he would so love playing piano that he would want to continue. That plan totally worked! On the flip side, another of my boys took guitar lessons during the summer and while he enjoyed it, he found that there was little time during the school year to continue this skill. Both of these responses were fine with my husband and I and we did not regret encouraging the learning of a brand new skill in the midst of those summer months. The long lazy days that are coming allow for plenty of time to try new things and practice a bit each day. We have also done this with art, bike maintenance, drama, etc...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cello lessons are on the docket for this summer! </td></tr>
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3. <b>Devotions: </b>While it may seem that this category doesn't fit well with skills and talents, this is something we want our kids to know how to do. So, in the summer, we make a new effort to get the kids doing daily devotions and we do this together, as well. I make a pile of devotional books available to my kids and also make a plan for what I would like to do<i> with </i>them. This summer, we will structure our family devotions using this image I came across on Facebook: <br />
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My thought for this image is to focus on one of these truths each week throughout the summer. We can even memorize the verses together. As parents, it is easy to overlook telling our kids how important they are, how forgiven they are, how VICTORIOUS they are, when we are racing through our busy days. I love the thought of us focusing on this for the 10 weeks that lie before us and intentionally passing these important truths on to my children (while also reminding myself)!<br />
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4. <b>Volunteering/Service Work. </b> Each summer my kids use their skills and talents to volunteer. One easy place to do this is through local Vacation Bible School programs. Ever since my kids were too old to attend, they have volunteered at our home church's VBS program. They have led groups, run the activity or craft station or served as a one-on-one helper to a child who needs a little extra help. I love that these experiences make our kids take their eyes off of themselves and think about someone else. This matters. It matters that we teach our kids to do this while they are young so that when they are teens, it has already become a way of life. Someone once told me that all teens are naturally selfish. I have <i>not</i> found this to be true. My teens are taller, more mature versions of the children they once were. And I like them. :) Do they have selfish moments? Of course they do! (Don't we all??) But because our family and our school have both placed a strong emphasis on the value of serving others, this has become a part of their very fabric. They KNOW it is important. Summer offers us the perfect time to find opportunities for our kids to do just that. Need ideas? What is your child good at? Can they teach that skill to a younger child? My older boys help out with a local soccer camp where they teach younger kids to play soccer. My younger kids help in the nursery at church. These experiences are valuable and help to direct our kids toward a life that does not place them in the middle... but instead teaches them to live side-by-side, in community, with those all around them. It gives them a greater purpose in this life... and it turns out, its pretty fun. :) <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last year, my older boys volunteered at VBS while my younger kids attended. </td></tr>
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Getting some ideas? Think about the months ahead as a time when you can direct or redirect your kids in enjoyable experiences that we might otherwise not be able to add to our already busy days. Dream a little bit... and talk to your kids! <br />
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The other night, rather out of the blue, my 10 year old Josiah asked if he could please create himself a web page. As it turns out, he had been reading about how to do that, had already compared several ways to create a website and had formed an opinion about which programs and methods he would like to try. I was pretty surprised. :) Faced with this question, I have two choices in this place... I could tell him no because I am too busy and too stressed to supervise. I could tell him no because he is 10 and 10 year olds do not need web pages. Or, I could dream a little. I could wonder about why this is so interesting to him. I could tell myself that gifts and talents present themselves in curious ways and that 10 year olds need some yeses in their days to encourage their growth and God-given interests. I think this summer my boy will get a web page. And maybe by next summer he will make one for you! Who knows? But the months ahead give room for my yes and that, I love. <br />
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So, talk to your kids and make some plans... not to FILL their days but to <i>pour into their lives</i>. In the name of fun and growth, what do your kids need to learn this summer? <br />
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Blessings on your day! Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-20618266630690388602013-05-28T11:51:00.002-05:002013-05-30T10:49:42.539-05:00Planning for Summer: Details #1<br />
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Including today, my kids have 7.5 days of school remaining. The end is near. It is time for us mommas to band together and make a plan for the days and weeks that lie ahead. Last week, I blogged on this very thing. (If you missed that post, <a href="http://nadiaswearingen-friesen.blogspot.com/2013/05/summers-coming-whatcha-gonna-do.html">click here to head back there.</a>) It is a tricky thing to face down the end of the year and dream about what is to come. The end of the year always leaves me feeling a little bit sad... It seems to me that watching my kids magically transform from 3rd grader to 4th grader or :::gasp::: 8th grader to FRESHMAN, causes me more pause and sometimes more tears than their actual birthdays.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet boy, who has grown from this...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">to this... </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQ2G4Aa6mzGf5cHYJwygUQNIph7kZVJ8pVJBWRWdHk3wkK3k-Kmal2VEpHbEmy4xD1eOfnqxXY5ub81e4Rw2huxEe48tD1EzkwNxbC4oL7DAWkHVeB8igtK3D6K5Ktj58KyqtNtVcvPpe/s1600/081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQ2G4Aa6mzGf5cHYJwygUQNIph7kZVJ8pVJBWRWdHk3wkK3k-Kmal2VEpHbEmy4xD1eOfnqxXY5ub81e4Rw2huxEe48tD1EzkwNxbC4oL7DAWkHVeB8igtK3D6K5Ktj58KyqtNtVcvPpe/s200/081.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">to <i>this </i>confident 8th grader!<br />
High school, here he comes!</td></tr>
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And once we get past that final day of alarm clocks and school clothes and morning rush and homework and teary good-byes to teachers and friends, we are staring down 81 glorious, unstructured, hairy, hopeful days of summer.<br />
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I mentioned last week that we always set academic goals for our kids to chip away at during those summer months. As a former educator, it is hard for me to imagine leaving behind the thrill of learning for nearly 3 months! I want my children to embrace a lifestyle of seeking knowledge and embracing the wonder of creation. I also want to think through each child's strengths and weaknesses and make a plan that helps them to begin their new school year feeling ready and capable! <br />
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Some ideas:<br />
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1. We have always bought "workbooks" for our kids to process through during the summer. Most days they will do a page or two and show them to use to check for errors. I have found that a lot of workbooks are set a level that is below the grade level listed. Because of this, I usually buy workbooks for the year AHEAD of where my kids are going to be. Be careful with this though... books can differ. Since you are the expert on your child, you know best what will keep them moving forward instead of just practicing standing still. My kids have not really fussed about this because it has always been a part of summer. So, when I bring home new workbooks, they so strongly associate them with those long and lazy days that they are happy to see them come in! <br />
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2. What about teens? It can be awfully hard to find workbooks for older kids! So what do we do with that? We use a lot of online tools and tap into the interests of each child. For instance, my oldest boy LOVES math and science! We love what <a href="https://www.khanacademy.org/">Khan Academy</a> does and will have them go through a lesson or two each day on that site to explore new ideas and reinforce old knowledge. <br />
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3. I like to look at the summer months as a season of relaxed homeschooling. So, thinking about what we can learn together in terms of a unit can be helpful. Consider reading some Little House on the Prairie aloud to your kids and then follow those books up with a trip to local living museum. In the Chicago area where we live, we can visit someplace like <a href="http://www.napersettlement.org/">Naper Settlement</a> to meet a goal like that! Or we take a trip to Springfield and try to figure out where the history of Lincoln meets Laura Ingalls Wilder. Think about the things you wish your kids knew more about... then jump in with two feet putting together something to do or read at home and something to go see and experience! <br />
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4. One of my plans for my 9 year old daughter is to have her take her love for American Girl books and translate that into historical knowledge. We will make a big poster to hang in her room with chronological time spans typed across the top. As she reads different American Girl books, we will have her jot notes about factual events and details from that era on the poster. By the end of summer, she will have a broader view of American history while she strengthens her reading and comprehension skills!<br />
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5. A few years back, I found a book on Amazon that contained many famous stories that I wanted to share with my kids. The book was a read aloud book with the approximate time it would take to read each selection printed on the title page. <br />
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We had so much fun going through those tales together! I will never forget reading The Ugly Duckling to my kiddos while they laughed HYSTERICALLY at the fact that the duck was actually <i>called </i>ugly. Being raised in such a politically correct time, it was beyond their comprehension that such words would be used aloud! What a fun and funny afternoon we shared as they learned that classic story and I studied their precious faces and we giggled and listened together. I highly recommend reading together! As you choose your books to read aloud, do not worry that your child has outgrown hearing you read. You are making memories together and igniting memories of the past, as well! Do it for the love of story. Do it for the love of sharing something together. Do it because it is good and it matters. <br />
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6. We intentionally gather books that will make learning easier in the summer. We put them out to be used and referenced. We have a great bird book on hand in case something flies by that we cannot quickly identify. We have a book on rocks and minerals that my kids love to to peruse when they find a new, cool stone outside. Think about the kinds of things your kids enjoy to learn about and put books and supplies out that will allow them dig in on their own. We love <a href="http://www.hpb.com/">Half Price Books</a> for books like these! <br />
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During the summer months, I want my kids to continue learning. They do not spend their days over worksheets and tests! Instead, they invest 10-30 minutes each day on one or more of the ideas above. We put a high priority on playing outside and while we want them to extend their academic knowledge, we also want them to embrace the slow, relaxing pace of the season ahead. The key to fantastic summer is to find a way to balance the things our kiddos need and the things we know they want. <br />
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A lot goes in planning a summer to remember. My next blog will talk about how we plan for opportunities for our kids to invest in their needed/wanted skills... including some talk of camp! (Those who know me well know that I could blog for a year on the value of camp!) So hang with me and think about the weeks and months to come. What really matters to you?<br />
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Blessings on your day! <br />
<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-27637173029101025402013-05-23T11:19:00.000-05:002013-05-30T10:49:30.841-05:00Summer's Coming! Whatcha Gonna Do? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's coming.<br />
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Year-end concerts and award banquets and school projects abound. The days are winding down and summer is almost here. While some mommas are eagerly awaiting the beginning of summer, others are taking deep breaths to stave off the ensuing panic that comes in anticipating over 100 days of unstructured home life, children underfoot. <br />
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Where do you stand? <br />
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As I sit here today in my quiet home, I am deeply aware that, though I love this daily down-time, it is a privilege that is passing. In roughly two and a half weeks, my children will come out of school with mixed feelings and summer will begin. We will dry off last-day-tears and head to a local park where summer always begins for us. We will gather with friends, eat some lunch, enjoy the distraction from a day of good-byes and stand together at the beginning of a long string of time to come. I love having my kids home. I love the peace that comes with plenty of rest and a lack of pressing deadlines. But, 16 years of parenting has taught me that sleepy summer days can be rocky, too. Because the truth is that I love my quiet, writing afternoons and my children love their structure. So, while we dream today of some summer fantasy, it will likely not be that vision that plays out for us. <br />
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So, what do we do? <br />
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Last week, I decided to add a new talk to my topic list on this very thing. I am excited to be thinking about summer as I prepare to speak on this for Spring '14. For years, our family has approached summer planning in a way that offers some structure and lots of downtime while offering parameters that can curtail known frustrations. Left to their own devices, my children will happily spend way too much time on screens playing video games or watching televisions programs that can only be described as "brain-candy". This, I do not want. But, if I spend a few minutes thinking about what goals I have for my kids, maybe the summer can take on a shape that fits for our whole family. <br />
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Here are some of the goals we have for our kids each year:<br />
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1. <b>Keep moving academically</b>. Yes, I totally get that school is over but as a former educator, I know that kids who continue to learn academically throughout the summer begin to see <i>learning as a lifestyle</i> and not a school requirement. I do not want my children to tolerate academics. I want to raise kids who are curious, eager, driven. I want them to love the "a-ha" moments and to seek them instead of waiting to have those revelations spoon fed to them. If we take the summer off of learning, we do not only lose what has been learned this year but we miss an opportunity to raise kids who see each day as an opportunity to seek knowledge and to explore God's creation. <br />
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2. <b>Work on needed/wanted skills and talents. </b> With the full and busy school-year schedule, it is hard for us to find time to really focus on things that are of interest to my kids. The summer allows for time to work on soccer skills, take a drama class or head off to a Christian camp and learn a lot of amazing things all at once! Over the years, we have really valued these experiences and have worked hard to budget for them. In addition to this, I will dust off my teacher hat and work up "lessons" that might be helpful to my kids in a variety of areas. <br />
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3. <b>Extended family time.</b> There is no way around it. My oldest is 16. I am staring down the end of our familiar life with four kids and I am deeply aware that in two years, my days with my baby will be drastically changed. <i>We need this time. </i> It may not be as idyllic as I would hope but it is needed for both my kids and myself. The chaos has a part to play and the spontaneous experiences that poke up out of nowhere become the stuff of family lore. We need it. Unplanned. Open. Available. And we need to plan for time when we get away and there is no interruption in the midst of this passing privilege. <br />
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4. <b>Lifestyle learning.</b> When we worked as residence directors at Trinity Christian College, we offered a curriculum of lifestyle lessons to freshman and sophomore students. My kids need nothing less. They need to learn basic skills like conflict resolution, living in community, household chores, etc... The summer offers us the opportunity to focus on such things and teach them well. As mommas, we are the experts on our kids. You know exactly what they are great at and in what areas they need growth. Three months of downtime can lead to an awful lot of learning!<br />
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5. <b> Fun, fun, fun!!! </b>We need to find space for fun. We need to laugh and relax and do unusual things and let it unwind the tightly wound springs that the school year has placed in my kids. We need to use the time we have in ways that September will not allow. We need to get away and we need to stay put. And while so much of this can seem spendy, there are ways to have a lot of fun without spending much money at all. <br />
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While I have many mini-goals for my kids, much of what we do for the summer falls under these general categories. Finding ways to plan for the things we want for our kids helps to offer structure to all those loosey-goosey days. This gives me hope that the summer that is coming can have moments in it that feel exactly like what we want. It makes me believe that the images in my head might come to fruition. And maybe I will have to hunt for those moments or maybe they will rise up and make themselves well-known. Either way, we will make space for summer to become what we need. <i>All the days will not be good. </i> All the weeks will not be perfect. My kids will argue. The house will begin to feel small. We will miss some goals and we will over-focus on others. But in the end, it will be what we make of it and <i>that</i>, my friends, takes a plan. <br />
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Over the next several posts, lets take a peek at each of the categories above. I will tell you what we might do and maybe you will share some ideas, too. And then, no matter your feelings about the months that are to come, we can plan for the summer to be something good. Not perfect. But <i>good </i>and<i> purposeful </i>and <i>needed. </i>And when September cycles back around we may still feel eager but we will also feel nostalgic for the wonder of three months of days that we got to experience together...<br />
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Blessings on your day. <br />
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<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-7119632521581916282013-02-04T08:30:00.000-06:002013-02-04T08:30:03.825-06:00No More Perfect Moms: Big News! I am so excited about this news! I wanted to be sure to share it with you first thing this morning!<br />
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For the past month, I have been reading Jill Savage's new book,<i> No More Perfect Moms </i>and have really been thinking about how I approach this work in my own life. This book has challenged me in many ways. Maybe you, like me, find yourself caught up in comparing your parenting, your home, yourSELF to others and are left feeling like you fall short. In my own life, expecting perfection (especially in parenting) has left me in a place where I feel badly about things I have missed, mistakes I have made, things left undone, even years after the event occurred. I so want to do right by my family that falling short can be overwhelming. I have a sense that I am not alone in this?<br />
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So, when I was given the opportunity to read Jill's book and help her launch it too, I jumped at the chance. Now, I find myself carrying the book around and realizing regularly that there are NO perfect Moms. Honestly, I needed this information. I needed to learn to stop comparing my insides to someone else's outside (which Jill talks about consistently throughout her book). It was time for me. Is it time for you?<br />
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If you are ready for a change, if you are ready for a new approach to family life, if you are ready to extend grace to yourself and others as you love on those you love, it's time for you to read Jill's book. And there are so many reasons to do that now! <br />
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Check this out: <br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/No-More-Perfect-Moms-Learn/dp/0802406378/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1359491496&sr=1-1&keywords=no+more+perfect+moms" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-5000" height="300" src="http://www.jillsavage.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/book-cover-with-subtitle-217x300.jpg" title="book cover with subtitle" width="217" /></a></div>
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<strong>Everyone loves a good investment…especially one that comes with a big bonus!</strong> This is one of those investments that you don’t want to miss!
Purchase <a href="http://www.jillsavage.org/">Jill Savage</a>’s new book <a href="http://www.hearts-at-home.org/index.php/nmpm-home"><em>No More Perfect Moms</em></a> anytime between February 3-9 (online or at a store…and yes, electronic versions such as Kindle and Nook count too!) Send a copy of your receipt to <a href="mailto:NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu">NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu</a>. Scan it, take a picture of it - just be sure to send it to the email! You'll be given access to well over <strong>$100 worth of resources</strong> that will help you on your mothering journey - absolutely free!
What will you receive?
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<strong>6 Sixty Minute Audio Workshops (MP3 format) from Hearts at Home</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Desperate for Wisdom - Dr. Juli Slattery</li>
<li>How to Fight for Your Marriage - Dr. Juli Slattery</li>
<li>It is Well with Your Soul - Jennifer Rothschild</li>
<li>Multiple Intelligences - Dr. Kathy Koch</li>
<li>Ten Stress Strategies Every Mom Needs - Jill Savage</li>
<li>The God Who Sees You- Tammy Maltby</li>
</ul>
<strong>4 Printables from Hearts at Home</strong>
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<ul>
<li>10 Stress Strategies Every Mom Needs</li>
<li>“Love Is”--I Corinthians 13 for Parents</li>
<li>Mom Rules</li>
<li>How to Fight Fair In Marriage</li>
</ul>
<strong>3 Free E-book’s (including PDF, Kindle, iPad, and Nook editions!) from Moody Publishers</strong>
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.moodypublishers.com/pub_productDetail.aspx?id=41823&pid=87290"><em>Live Free</em></a> by Kendra Smiley</li>
<li><a href="http://www.moodypublishers.com/pub_productDetail.aspx?id=41823&pid=53184"><em>Growing Grateful Kids</em></a> by Susie Larsen</li>
<li><a href="http://www.moodypublishers.com/pub_productDetail.aspx?id=41823&pid=53243"><em>Real Moms Real Jesus</em></a> by Jill Savage</li>
</ul>
<strong>1 Contest Entry</strong>
You will be entered in a drawing to win hotel accommodations and two <a href="http://www.heartsathome.org/">Hearts at Home</a> Mom Conference registrations for you and a friend at a conference of your choice! (If unable to attend a conference, a Hearts at Home Conference To-Go will be substituted for the winner and a friend.)
<strong>This offer is available for this week only (Feb 3-9)</strong>! Grab a copy of <em>No More Perfect Moms</em>, scan your receipt, email it, and start enjoying your new book PLUS all of the extra bonuses you’ll receive! It’s “mom university” delivered right to your computer!
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<br />
That's a lot of free stuff! I have seen each of those Hearts at Home presentations and can tell you that you will not be disappointed! (While listening to Dr. Kathy Koch give her presentation, I could not take notes fast enough!)<br />
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Today is your day. Order Jill's book and offer yourself the grace you lavish on others. <br />
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It's okay that you are not perfect.<br />
<br />
It's okay that you make mistakes. <br />
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It's okay that your house is not spotless.<br />
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It's okay. <br />
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This book will help you embrace that truth. <br />
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Blessings on your day.<br />
<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-27200241611615082262013-01-08T11:59:00.000-06:002013-01-08T11:59:48.009-06:00Perfection Impossible...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.nomoreperfectmoms.com/" onclick="javascript:_gaq.push(['_trackEvent','outbound-widget','http://www.NoMorePerfectMoms.com']);" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="No More Perfect Moms" border="0" height="150" name="" src="http://www.jillsavage.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Button-Shareable-Image1-150x150.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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The kids have been back to school since yesterday. Both mornings were far from stellar.<br />
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Books and hats missing. <br />
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Clothes not organized.<br />
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Homework incomplete. <br />
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House messy. <br />
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Momma frustrated. <br />
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Kids frazzled.<br />
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Ugh.<br />
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This is not how I wanted it to be.<br />
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I long for sweet and easy mornings where my children come calmly down the stairs, fully dressed and ready for the day ahead. I love the thought of a hot breakfast on the table and little ones willing to eat it. I dream of being able to share devotions before school and of sending my sweeties off with a word of blessing and a kiss on their heads. <br />
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Instead, our mornings look chaotic. Like ants in search of sugar, they scramble from room to room, directionless, gathering one thing while losing another. An hour goes by. Some of them eat. I am asked roughly four million questions, to which I am able to answer only 3. Instead of making a sandwich, one child delves into theological theory while another corrects his sister over a bowl of cold cereal. Showers are taken, some teeth are brushed, some hair is combed. But not all. Never all. <br />
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There are times when it is not like this. And I know we can do better. But somehow, right now, we are not. And I am frustrated with the whole of it. Because I know that in the midst of our messy mornings, we are missing out. Yes, my kids know well how loved they are. They live and thrive in a home with parents who adore them and love being together. And that is good. They have food and beds and a warm place to be. Also very good. And I know we are blessed to have what we have... and yet...<br />
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I also know we fall short. <br />
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And I am not a fan.<br />
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But, there is pressure that comes with those pictures I seek.... the way I wish it was causes me to miss the wonder of the way it really is. And I am learning that seeking perfection means choosing a path where I focus on the missing socks more often than on the sweet, little feet of the one who lost them. Which makes me sad, to tell the truth.<br />
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So, it is time for a change. <br />
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Maybe the change is bigger than me. Maybe you need it too. In a world of Pinterest Pretties and Stupendous Statuses, maybe it is time for something new. Because I have to tell you, I wonder what would happen if we all told the truth? It's a tricky thing for many of us, exposing our realities to other's polished posts. But, what would happen if we actually said, "I am not perfect and I am weary of trying to be." <br />
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Kinda scary.<br />
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Kinda necessary.<br />
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Kinda<i> time.</i><br />
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Maybe, just maybe, we would find out that the perfect picture we are pursuing does not actually exist. And maybe, just maybe, we would discover that we are not at all alone but belong to a brotherhood (motherhood?) of mommas who are all in the midst of such struggle? Maybe the truth would come out that in all of our homes, something spills on the floor, our kids misbehave, mornings are crazy, the bathroom is a retreat and we fall into bed awash in a mix of wonder and frustration that tomorrow will bring more of this miraculous mix. <br />
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Maybe.<br />
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But here is what I know. I want to think about this more. I want to focus less on perfection and more on being present. I want to think less of how we present than how we really are. I want to set goals based on my reality, not on someone else's blog, tweet or status. <br />
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And yes, I want to do well, love well, raise well. But does perfection fit in the midst of these?<br />
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If you can relate at all, I have some ideas for what we do next. Not because I know the answer... but because I think I might finally know the question. :) <br />
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I have been given the opportunity to be part of a launch team for Jill Savage's upcoming book. The book is not yet out but the team has had the privilege of reading it now. It's shaking stuff up around here. But the shaking is really good. The title of the book is <i><a href="http://www.hearts-at-home.org/index.php/nmpm-home">No More Perfect Moms.</a></i> Don't you love it? There is a website you can peruse that has lots of resources for moms who are struggling with this very thing. Here are some other things that might help:<br />
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1. <a href="http://www.hearts-at-home.org/index.php/nmpm-about/nmpm-email">Sign up for a month of emails </a>that will give you things to think about as you consider this important topic. <br />
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2. Get ready to buy the book! But not today! If you wait to buy the book between February 4-9 you will get lots of freebies to go with it! Afraid you will forget? <a href="http://www.hearts-at-home.org/index.php/nmpm-about/nmpm-about-3">You can sign up</a> here to be notified when it's time. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqhwsJ8VMno-H8T0xYh-3_94nWgAYIxkn8Tt7Q91uMYv7VWXVVVGlyeGH-qyKpKx_25pHmjI3u4c9uDiMQLqrY_nSNZY7UO_wt976UOXfb49AMAwPsNIu8pGOQKV6O2-oc0vPWp8PuWNw/s1600/No-More-Perfect-Moms_TG7_Spine-240x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqhwsJ8VMno-H8T0xYh-3_94nWgAYIxkn8Tt7Q91uMYv7VWXVVVGlyeGH-qyKpKx_25pHmjI3u4c9uDiMQLqrY_nSNZY7UO_wt976UOXfb49AMAwPsNIu8pGOQKV6O2-oc0vPWp8PuWNw/s1600/No-More-Perfect-Moms_TG7_Spine-240x300.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is a book I am going to delve into. For me, the time has come to balance my focus and remember the truth. And then <i>tell the truth.</i> Because I have to believe that I am not alone in my struggles or my mess or my frustration. I have to believe that the God who gave me these four children did not intend for me to spend their childhood wishing for something else. Contentment is lost in midst of such wishing. So is joy. And that is not what I want for my life or their lives or our life together. <br />
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Perfection is impossible. This year, let's get real.<br />
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Deal?<br />
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Blessings on your day. <br />
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<br />Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-17672102052293010992012-12-25T09:26:00.000-06:002012-12-25T09:26:00.420-06:00Merry Christmas!<br />
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<em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">For</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">unto you is born this day in</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">the city of David</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">a Savior, who is</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Christ</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">the Lord.</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">And</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby</em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </em><em style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”</em><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<strong style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">~Luke 2:10-12</strong><strong style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span>Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2924805302246292046.post-74462940103494267042012-12-24T18:00:00.000-06:002012-12-24T18:00:00.795-06:00Pause to Prepare for Christmas<div>
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What will happen tomorrow is a celebration of a true story. For just a minute, read. Remember. Listen to the words like they are brand new to you. This passage matters far more than our gift lists and cookie platters and impending family gatherings. <br />
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My life was changed by these words, by the deep and gracious truths within. </div>
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<div class="heading passage-class-0" style="background-color: white; color: #5c1101; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
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Luke 2</h3>
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<span class="text Luke-2-1" id="en-NIV1984-24967">The Birth of Jesus</span></h3>
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<span class="text Luke-2-1"><span class="chapternum" style="bottom: -0.1em; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: bold; left: 0px; line-height: 0.8em; position: relative;">2 </span>In those days Caesar Augustus<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24967A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24967B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Luke-2-2" id="en-NIV1984-24968"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">2 </sup>(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24968C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Luke-2-3" id="en-NIV1984-24969"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">3 </sup>And everyone went to his own town to register.</span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-4" id="en-NIV1984-24970"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">4 </sup>So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24970D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-5" id="en-NIV1984-24971"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">5 </sup>He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24971E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup> and was expecting a child.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-6" id="en-NIV1984-24972"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">6 </sup>While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,</span> <span class="text Luke-2-7" id="en-NIV1984-24973"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">7 </sup>and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.</span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-8" id="en-NIV1984-24974">The Shepherds and the Angels</span></h3>
<span class="text Luke-2-8" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-9" id="en-NIV1984-24975" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>An angel<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24975F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup> of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-10" id="en-NIV1984-24976" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24976G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup> I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-11" id="en-NIV1984-24977"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">11</sup><span style="color: #990000; font-size: small;"><i><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </sup>Today in the town of David a Savior<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24977H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> has been born to you; he is Christ<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV1984-24977a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke2&version=NIV1984#fen-NIV1984-24977a" style="text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</sup><sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24977I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup> the Lord.</i></span><span style="font-size: 0.65em;"><sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24977J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup></span></span> <span class="text Luke-2-12" id="en-NIV1984-24978" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">12 </sup>This will be a sign<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24978K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup> to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”</span><br />
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<span class="text Luke-2-13" id="en-NIV1984-24979"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">13 </sup>Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,</span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-14" id="en-NIV1984-24980" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">14 </sup>“Glory to God in the highest,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Luke-2-14" style="position: relative;">and on earth peace<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24980L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> to men on whom his favor rests.”</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-15" id="en-NIV1984-24981"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">15 </sup>When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”</span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-2-16" id="en-NIV1984-24982"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">16 </sup>So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24982M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Luke-2-17" id="en-NIV1984-24983"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">17 </sup>When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child,</span> <span class="text Luke-2-18" id="en-NIV1984-24984"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">18 </sup>and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.</span> <span class="text Luke-2-19" id="en-NIV1984-24985"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">19 </sup>But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24985N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Luke-2-20" id="en-NIV1984-24986"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">20 </sup>The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV1984-24986O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup> for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.</span></div>
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Nadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06565381321728588108noreply@blogger.com0