Encourage Young People

Today, Jackson and I went to McDonald's after storytime with another family.  Jackson started off kind of playing on the ground level of their indoor play area.  I was eating, talking, and periodically checking on him. After a couple of minutes, I noticed he was higher up in the play area with another girl, who was several years older.  He was smiling and waving at me.  She smiled and said, "I'm helping him."  Ok.  I'll (obviously) continue to keep an eye on him.  But I thought that was sweet.

I'm not great at guessing other children's ages.  But I'd peg the girl as somewhere in the 7-10 year-old range.  I watched as she held his hand to help him up.  I watched her clamor down a large step, then turn around and help gently lower him down.  I watched as they laughed and smiled and waved and played together for a while longer until it was time for us to leave.  I watched him blow her a kiss and give her a hug and a wave.

While we were walking out, I noticed a woman sitting outside of the play area, but at a table against that window.  I approached and asked if her daughter was in the pink t-shirt and black leggings.  Her eyes grew wide with expectation and she said, "Yes.  What did she do?"  I told this other mom how kind and sweet her daughter was to my little boy; how helpful she'd been; how much my son enjoyed playing with her.  The mother sank back with relief into her chair and said, "You almost gave me a heart attack!  I'm so glad to hear that, though.  We try so hard to teach our kids to show kindness to others."  I don't know if this woman's initial mindset was to defend her child against accusation or blister her tush if she'd acted out.  But the visible relief and pride of being told a positive thing about her child was very obvious.

I told the mom, "She was really good with him.  You're doing a great job.  I think too often parents are only told when their kids mess up.  So I wanted to make sure you also heard when she was being a great kid."  She beamed and agreed with me.  She gave Jackson a smile and a wave.  And at that moment, the little girl popped over to the window, still on the other side and flashed Jackson a giant grin.

I know how much I appreciate hearing that my two-year-old has behaved well or brought joy or a smile to someone.  I can only imagine that probably becomes more rare as children get older.  We hear so much negative stuff about tweens and teens.  We expect them to be rude and sarcastic and bored and quick-tempered.  What if we actually acknowledge the positive as well, instead of just the negative?  Maybe, just maybe, it'll encourage them to continue doing good and kind things with no self-serving interest.

So today, I challenge myself.  If I notice someone, especially a young person, doing something well or acting with selfless kindness, I will applaud them.  I will praise and encourage them.  Not just when it has to do with my child, but anytime.  And maybe they'll glean a sense of pride in themselves instead of becoming sullen and thinking "no one says anything to me unless I screw up."  Maybe it'll make a bully less bully-ish.  Maybe it'll give a withdrawn kid some confidence.  Maybe it'll make someone feel noticed and validated and important. Maybe not.  But it sure can't hurt anything.

You Know Those Nights?

You know those nights when your child rubs his eyes, and takes you by the hand to lead you upstairs while saying, "Night night."?  Me neither.  At least, not tonight.  Instead, my son took a different tactic tonight.  His method of notifying us of his desire for sleep was to be as obstinate, stubborn, tantrumatic, disobedient, and defiant as possible until we finally got so fed up with him, we put him to bed.

It worked.

And within four minutes of being laid down, he was asleep.  Before 7 pm.  Tomorrow could be a very interesting day...Stay tuned.

Aurora Theater

This morning, an armed murderer invaded a crowded movie theater for the midnight showing of the latest Batman movie.  Thus far, twelve have died and at least 38 more were wounded.  They've apprehended the killer.  What happens next, I don't know.  I know my heart cries for those in attendance.  Whether they were killed, injured, or escaped, none of them will ever be the same.  I lift up prayers for them and their families.

I will not let this madman cause me to live a life in fear.  I will not quit going to the movies or public places because a deranged lunatic has an agenda.  I will raise my son to be diligent and deliberate and aware of his surroundings.  But I will not raise him to live in terror of the what-ifs and unknowns.  I know some people say "when it's your time, it's your time."  I would simply say, "you never know what tomorrow holds."

God may know when you will pass away.  But His knowledge doesn't mean it is His plan or intent.  Free will comes into play.  God knew that man will kill.  But it was never His plan.  So we must live each of our days, each moment, with intention.  You may not die tomorrow.  But your job may disappear.  Or you may get unexpectedly promoted.

Not knowing what the future holds is a scary thing.  But it doesn't have to be.  I know many people who live life waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Waiting for bad things to happen.   And sometimes, they do.  But sometimes, Cinderella gets her first shoe back.  And on the other end of that shoe is happiness.

Just like after 9/11, we all have a choice.  We can let chaos and fear and others dictate our lives.  Or we can link arms and set our jaws in determination.  We cannot control the actions of others.  But we can control our own.  And we can control our response.  We can choose to press on.  We can choose to live each day with purpose, love, joy, intent, and kindness.  We can choose to be bold.  To speak and act for those who cannot do for themselves.  We can choose to speak truth, tempered by lovingkindness.  We can choose to disagree with one another and still act respectfully.

So I choose today to hug my son and husband extra-tight.  To tell them once more how much they mean to me.  To know that tomorrow isn't guaranteed.  But I will live this moment to its fullest.  I will not withdraw.  I will not be passive or a spectator in my own life.  I will resolve to be proactive in all I do and all I am.  I will love God with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind.  I will have joy for today and hope for tomorrow.

Chasing Bunnies and Playing Apples

The adventure that was today began very early.  Like, still-in-pajamas-early.  As Jackson and I were saying good-bye at the door to our amazing daddy/husband, we noticed a rabbit sitting quietly in the front yard.  Sometimes, our rabbits are so well camouflaged Jackson doesn't notice them.  (Which I guess is kind of the point for them to be the color they are.  After all, two-year-old little boys can definitely feel like predators to small furry garden animals.)  Lino came back up to the door to get Jackson and point out the pretty rabbit.  He stood in the driveway, holding our son, until Jackson finally spotted the bunny.  He instantly wanted to squirm down, which he was permitted to do.  He paused for a moment, then took off "running" in his adorable two-year-old way, straight for the bunny.  The bunny stood motionless at first.  Once it realized it had, indeed, been made, he hopped across the yard.  Well, seeing the bunny moving made Jackson stand motionless.  It was so sweet and fascinating watching these two small creatures watch and try to figure out one another.

This afternoon, we played in the backyard for a while.  Little boys greatly amuse me.  First, he took a couple of swings on the tee-ball.  Then he decided to pick up the largest, pointiest stick he could find.  He enjoyed sweeping it across all the leaves and listening to the rustling sound they made.  (The yard looks like it's autumn for all the fallen leaves.  Stupid drought.)  He soon realized if you lean on the stick, it'll break into smaller pieces.  So he did that repeatedly until the stick was down to its desired size.  Jackson took said stick over to the apple tree, plucked an apple, and hit it with the stick.  It made a very satisfying thump.  He played one apple for a while, then decided to look for another sound for his apple-drum.  So, he plucked another and played it.  I think he went through about 10 apples.  Finally, he played the game he and his father enjoy.  It's called "Throw-the-apple-as hard-as-you-can-against-the-playhouse."  I must admit, it is a pretty fun game.

Days like this, even though there was lots of busyness on my part and a bit of whininess on his, remind me again what's important.  They remind me how fleeting time and sweet moments with my kiddo are.  They remind me how creative and fun he is.  And they remind me how blessed I feel to get to stay home with him.

When He Grows Up

I hate to think of my little guy growing up.  But I know it'll happen.  It's inevitable.  There are certain things I hope for his future.  And then, there's things I expect...

I hope he will be a Godly man.  I hope, above all else, he will love and serve God, and be salt and light to those around him.  I hope he will be happy.  I hope he finds a way to earn a living at something he can find joy, contentment, and even passion in.  I hope he has a kind wife whom he loves deeply and who treats him with respect.  I hope he has children to delight in as I delight in him.

I don't care if he has a fancy title or lots of money.  I don't need him to buy me a house or a fancy car.  I only want him to have a good, strong work ethic, bring honor to the family name, and be someone trustworthy.  I don't care if he lives in a posh neighborhood or wears name-brand anything.  I just want him to have a good heart.

What I expect, however, is some bumps along the road.  I expect he'll break my heart at least once.  I expect he and his dad will fight (yelling, not beating.)  I expect him to annoy the tar out of any younger siblings.  I expect he'll disobey.  But I also expect him to still want to hug me.  I expect he'll still want nothing more than to be outside playing with his dad, be it golf, baseball, basketball, or time working on the car.  I expect he'll be a heartbreaker.  And I expect he'll get dumped a time or two.

And oddly enough, I expect he'll somehow be famous.  I am not a stage mom.  I have no desire to be.  I'll won't push him towards a career or try to vicariously fulfill my dreams through him.  I don't have the foggiest idea what he'll grow up to be.  But I would honestly be more surprised if he isn't famous than I would be if he is.  He has all sorts of interests at this age.  So I cannot pin down WHY he would ever be famous.  But his personality just tends to draw people in like a strange, giant, dimpled magnet.

He's just this two-year-old force of nature.  And I have encountered very few people who are not enamored with him almost instantly.  It's rather bizarre.  I'm not bragging on my kid.  He's happy, sure.  But to me, he's just my kid.  And because he's my first, I consider this "normal."  I assume all kids are as he is.  But maybe not.  I will NEVER wish him to grow up any faster.  It's going too fast as it is.  But I am intrigued as to the man he'll someday become.

Freedom

As I write this, Independence Day for the United States of America is mere hours away.  Fireworks have been going off in my neighborhood for, oh, about a week.  Tomorrow night, my neighborhood, surrounding cities, small town, and major metropolises all across this great nation will explode with light, sound, smoke, food, music, laughter.  People will gather in cul-de-sacs as they only do one night a year, with promises to make it more often.  Swimming parties, barbecues, and parades will be enjoyed.  Sleep will be late in coming for many.  And I am so looking forward to it.

But as I await the start of one of my favorite holidays, I ponder the freedoms I enjoy.  I am free to express myself.  This blog, though not controversial, would still be forbidden in many nations, even in this day and age.  Though I do not currently work outside the home, by choice, I would not have the option in some other countries.  I can own property.  I can have more than one child.  I can choose with whom I fall in love. I am not ignored, mistreated, spat upon, or invisible because of my last name, skin color, place of birth, or religion.  I do not have to hide my faith.  

And all of these amazing gifts of freedom have been bought with centuries of blood.  Even more incredible, the blood of my fellow countrymen has and continues to be spilled to buy similar freedoms for others across the world.  But the blood that has given me the most freedom is that of Christ Jesus.  In Him, I have ultimate freedom.  I have freedom from fear.  I have freedom from hate.  I have freedom from sin.  I have freedom from death itself.  The freedom of peace and grace, love and mercy, all poured out in a crimson stream on a desert hill for my sake alone is beyond astounding.  If I were the only louse in the world, He still would have bought my freedom with His own life. 

I can live, love, hope, dream, and believe because of the freedoms given to me.  My prayer this Independence Day is that Americans will appreciate and fight for the freedoms we have.  My prayer is that we will lift up the oppressed in prayer for their freedoms.  My prayer is that we will not stay silent.  And my prayer is that, American or not, Christian or not, God will touch each of our hearts in a fresh and new and revealing way.  Many people say (and rightly so) that freedom isn't free.  That's true.  Freedom always comes at a price for someone.  Fortunately for us, the freedom of the Lord is free to us.  He has already paid and truly gives it away for free.