Love - Out of Control

Listened to a song today called Control by Tenth Avenue North. For those who don’t know the song, it’s worth a google. Anyway, the chorus says this:

God You don't need me
But somehow You want me
Oh, how You love me
Somehow that frees me
To take my hands off of my life
And the way it should go

As I listened to the chorus, I first thought...what would that look like? To let go...I mean REALLY let go, and give it to God.

Then I thought...why? Why would anyone ever give control of their life over to another?

Then I thought...when? When, in the course of human life do we EVER trust someone else fully, 100%, that whatever happens next...they’ve got control? What’s that kind of trust like?

What can I say...I ask a lot of questions...

Sometimes I answer myself too...

I’ll come back to the first question in a minute. But first...the question of control.
Why would I give that over?
Well, control not actually my possession, anyway. The way I see it I have two choices...allow myself to be guided by the Lord...or allow myself to be controlled by literally EVERYTHING ELSE. One choice results in positivity, the other in negativity. One results in faith; the other results in fear. One results in being present; the other results in future-tripping. I, however, don’t have control...but what I do have is a choice.

That being said...I’ll go back to all of the other questions I asked myself...

What would it look like to let go, and when do humans ever contain a capacity for that kind of trust?

And then I picture my children. Whom I love so much. So much. So. Much. So much that I can go from perfectly rational to certifiably insane the instant that it appears either have been or will be harmed.

I picture Dave...throwing Baker in the air when he was just a baby. HIGH in the air. It still makes me cringe. But the look on Baker’s face was pure joy. Not a worry. Not a fear. Not a moment of thought to what COULD happen...because Daddy was there. Daddy would catch him every time. Daddy wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

I picture Lucibelle, the free-est of all free spirits. Running, full speed ahead wherever she goes...which also makes for some gnarly run-ins with gravity. I see it coming, but can’t get there fast enough. Hands and knees scraped, and a busted lip...she does not first seek to determine what is hurt...she doesn’t yell at me for not catching her...she does not try to fix it herself. What does she do? She looks up, through her tears, looks for me, and cries out, “Mommy! Mommy, kiss it! Hold me. Make it better.” There is no doubt in her mind that I’ll scoop her up, hold her tight, kiss her bumps and bruises, and make it better. Not a single doubt.

It’s the purest form of trust...the trust an infant has for his/her parents. Baker, at two, was invincible in Daddy’s arms. Daddy is the strongest man in the world. Daddy can do anything. Daddy is my protector and will not let me down.

As parents we know we aren’t perfect but we sure seek to climb to the top of the pedestal our children so naturally construct for us.

Of course...then there’s God. The ultimate father. Who actually IS all of the things our babies believe US to be.

That’s what it looks like if I really believe my Father is The Great I Am. When I run headlong into a brick wall...I would look to Jesus before anything or anyone else. When I’m in an unfamiliar place, unsure of my surroundings, I’d cling more tightly, certain that although I do not know the path, He does. When I’m in a place where things could crash and burn, I’d relax and enjoy the ride, knowing that I’m totally safe in His hands.

Love is Baker

12/29/2017

Googling some verses tonight. Googled Corinthians 13:4-6, the “Love is” verses. I liked the image to the right, so I clicked on it. The title of the article was “What is Love” on a website titled “I Am Baker.”

Let that soak in? Do you have goosebumps yet?

The article suggests, as I once heard at a wedding and then stole the idea for my own wedding, to replace the word “Love” with your own name. Since we are created in God’s image, and Jesus took our shortcomings with Him on the cross...it makes sense that when He, our Father who looks on us with the same adoration as we see our own children, describes you and me...He uses these words.

It’s hard to replace Love with MY name. I miss the mark in so many places. 

But then I look at Baker. I’ve described my son as a portal into heaven...actual Heaven itself.

Perfect, he is not. But inspiring, yes...that...Every. Day. Baker’s unique approach to life...the way he perceives his world...and his spirit, clearly anchored in something I could have never *taught*...leaves me in awe.

And so when I need to pause and remember what love is...when I need an example of what it looks like...maybe I just need to remember:

Baker is patient.
Baker is kind.
Baker does not envy.
He does not boast.
He is not proud.
He is not rude.
He is not self-seeking.
He is not easily angered.
Baker keeps no record of wrongs.
He does not delight in evil.
He rejoices in the truth.
Baker always protects.
He always trusts.
He always hopes.
Baker always perseveres.
He never fails.

No, he’s not perfect. And yet, I look on my son...my little portal into heaven...with an adoration that makes me see these features in him.

God looks on His children in the same light. That’s pretty exciting news, right?

Silence is the Wingman

There’s a lot on the news right now about abuse, sexual and otherwise. I decided to jot down my thoughts on why I applaud those who have been brave enough to come forward:

Silence is the wingman.

Abuse is wild and reckless. He is dishonest, manipulative, and self-serving, but he draws a crowd. He threatens, shames, guilts, bribes, and demeans, ultimately forcing Silence to be his wingman.

So Silence paves the road, creates the guest list, and keeps the energy alive. He collects the keys in a bowl and turns up the music, loud. His playlist includes titles like, 

“They’ll Never Believe You”
“I’ll Hurt Your Loved Ones”
“But I Love You”
“You Don’t Deserve Love”
“You’re Tainted Now”
“It’s All Your Fault”
and the classic, “It’ll Never Happen Again.”

Then he cleans up after the party, as though it was all just a dream that left behind a song stuck on repeat.

Abuse puts on the event, but Silence is the sponsor.

Abuse goes unchecked, because Silence covers all evidence.

Abuse brings the baggage, and Silence crams it into the darkest corners, never to be unpacked. Rather, the baggage will sit and act as a magnet for all of the carry-on Abuse delivers.

Abuse launches missiles which will be untraceable, because Silence makes him invisible...invincible.

And while Abuse may be the mastermind, Silence drives the getaway car.

Once the golden boy, Silence is now the antagonist to freedom, healing, and truth.

And Abuse is the bully with a deadly wingman.

Correcting Your Mistakes

Mom brag: Baker got a stack of papers back yesterday...10 papers or so. All were perfect scores except 3, which were in the B's due to careless mistakes here and there.

We celebrated the 100% scores. He was so proud. We talked about how the others were good grades if he tried his best, but when we looked at the mistakes, he recognized they were careless. We talked about the mistakes, and I had him correct each paper and write why the original answers were wrong.

I stood by and listened as he bravely and independently took the papers back to his teacher and said, "I know I don't get any more points and that the grades are not bad, but I fixed these so I don't make the same careless mistakes again." He was so brave and mature and never once pouted or complained. He had such a positive spirit and was genuinely interested in learning from his mistakes because, "Mommy, that's what a scientist does when he makes a mistake or has to rethink his hypothesis. Scientists can't be careless."

I have to admit, I'm even more proud of his maturity and attitude about correcting the 85%, 88%, and 80%, than the other seven perfect scores. I pray that he approaches all of life's blunders with a scientist's approach. The mistake is only bad if you leave it that way and don't learn from it...otherwise it's just another step toward the right answer.

As adults, we can make some huge blunders. But it's important that we look at all of the things God has done in our lives and all of the things we've gotten right through He who strengthens us. Sometimes we make the same mistakes again and again...it's when we come to the place that we forgive ourselves (because He already did), pay no attention to what others might think, face our mistake, prepare our hearts for the hardship, and open up to learning, that we can actually see the redeeming value in it all.

I'm learning from my 7 year old that ego is for the birds.

I also learned yesterday that he hopes to one day make a bird-rhino hybrid...not sure if that would be a small flying horned creature or a flying rhino...but that's another post for another day.

What Makes a Good Marriage?

This one will be short and sweet...it doesn't need much more

Me: what makes a good mommy?
Baker: ...takes care of her kids...cares for them when they are hurt and sick...makes sure they eats their fruits and veggies...(awwww...sweet...right?)

Me: what makes a good dad?
Baker: ...same thing that makes a good mom. (Lol...cute...right?)

Me: what makes a good man?
Baker: ...works out...and does the things that a good mom does does for the people he loves (getting deep there, little man)

Me: what do you think makes a good marriage?
Baker: (doesn't miss a beat...not even a half second...I kid you not...like this is the easiest question he ever answered) God.

Wow.  

Got it, Father. LOUD AND CLEAR. They see us and pay attention. They don't miss a moment. And they know what matters.

My prayers tonight will be a bit different than ever before...and my future prayers are changed too.

Pic from July, 2006, just about 2 months into the relationship.  Eleven years later, I still thank God for him every day.   

A Three Minute Pause

This afternoon some dominoes took their course and left me riddled with worry.  Everything was so tangled up and not falling as I believed it should. The topic of my worry isn't the point here though. I sat for nearly an hour with a knot in my stomach. What if this. What if that. What if it doesn't happen this way or that...

I picked up my phone and accidentally pressed a button that pulled up The Shack audiobook Dave and I listened to over Spring Break. I immediately was reminded of when God warns Mackenzie that "without wisdom, imagination is a cruel task-master," and points out that the future often looks so worrisome and bleak because we tend to leave Him out of our imagined pictures.

In psychology it's called future-tripping. In The Shack, it's imagination. In that moment I spoke these words to Dave, "I've done what I can, and now I am just going to trust that God is going to take care of the rest."  I said it...and I had to keep saying it over and over in my head to drown out the doubt. But I quit my repetitive loop after about three minutes.

Why three minutes?  Because y'all...I swear to you...it was exactly three minutes from the time I made the comment, that I received a text. The text content didn't have the answer, but it had hope.

Yes...I do believe in coincidences. Yes...I do believe in random timing.  But I also believe in the joy that it gives our Lord when His children make a decisive effort to be mindful of His faithfulness. And I do believe in God-winks.

Perceived Threat...How My Son Opened My Heart

2/26/17

The body's response to a perceived threat is fight or flight.

Since birth, we've worked hard with Baker to help him differentiate between perceived and real threat and to create peace in his body and mind so he can more clearly identify each. Baker's go-to explanation is that he doesn't "trust" that...food, toy, bike, trail, slide, swing, cafeteria, assembly, candy, ride, store, etc...

But sometimes things still go haywire. Sometimes his body still perceived a threat. It fights by vomiting or shutting down. It takes flight by running away, hiding, or refusing to move due to paralyzing fear. Perhaps if he was wired more aggressively we'd see him hit, kick, scream, or lash out.

The thing is, whatever the stimuli, as benign to you or me as it may seem...to Baker, it's a threat.

Getting mad at him for it will never change the behavior. If I perceive a tarantula crawling across my neck, I'm going to react. And if you get mad at me for it, I'm not going to trust you anymore.

Trying to convince him that his perception is inaccurate while he is in the throws of his chaos, isn't going to redirect his thinking.  Instead, we have to direct his attention elsewhere and help him to find peace before he can move forward.  His perception, after all, is his reality, but that doesn't make it real.  

This is not to say that displays of behaviors that do not correlate with our family values are accepted or glossed over. Quite the contrary. Baker knows that reactions that cause major disruptions or emotional or physical harm to others will never be accepted in our home. Every day he redirects, fights, or flies while still maintaining empathy and love for others. I believe this goes much deeper than our parenting and speaks to a deep spiritual peace that he is able to hold...even when his neurons are all tangled up in anxiety and overload.

Jesus perceived the world differently. So does my boy.

In the same light...I've recently found myself swimming upstream trying to figure out the "other side" of the political spectrum. Why do they do this? What do they think that's ok? Why do they act like that?

I've tried to convince them that they are wrong.

I've even tried to deflect their negativity with my own.

One side lashes out at the other because they did this. The other lashes out because that side is wrong. One side cries foul, the other throws back something equally disgusting.

But what I woke up thinking this morning was that if we all approached others with love the way we do our own children...we'd be in a lot better place.

We are currently helping Baker develop the tools to navigate perception vs. reality. Not ignoring his perceptions. Not scolding him for them. And not treating his feelings as irrational. After all, regardless of WHY he believes as he does...it's real to him and his brain/body will behave accordingly. And it's our reactions to our beliefs that will either strengthen or destroy our spiritual bond with humanity.

Now...It's not my job to parent other people. Well...as an educator, sometimes it is...but that's another post for another time.

But, what if, instead of trying to convince others that their perception is wrong while they are wrapped up in it...what if I choose to love them anyway. And love them in a way that creates a bond. And love them in a way that creates trust. So that when they perceive the sky to be falling and turn to me and see my peace...whether it is falling or not...it creates peace within them.

So that even when they are fearful, they don't cut people out. So that when they are anxious they don't lash out. So that when they are so convinced of their perception they don't express arrogance, pride, or hate...but instead walk in Love.

Yeah...it's a pretty tall order. But God sent his Son to teach us how to do it. Funny thing...I think God sent me my son to teach me the same.