The Practice of Walking Alongside

My friend, Sarah, a talented writer and aspiring author, is hosting a blog carnival this week on our practices of parenting. I've known Sarah for several years now, and am amazed at how her writing has developed over time. It won't be long until I'm referring to her as an accomplished author. Of that, I am sure.

Here is my post on the topic:



I strive hard to be the parent I long to have and to model for my children the child whom I'd like to see. In our house, the golden rule prevails. In our house, "Would you please go back and hang up your coat," is the phrase of choice.

I'm a listener who refuses to jump to conclusions and issue edicts. I refuse to yell. (Reality check: I usually succeed at refusing to yell.)

The pay-off is that all of my children, old and young, will come to me when they have problems instead of shutting me out. They trust me with their heart and will ask me to pray with them over fears and tough situations.

As my children grow older, I find myself helping them to find themselves. I want to connect with my children long after they're children. I want them to know how to make good decisions. And I want to encourage them in the pursuit of their gifts and callings -- not my callings, and not my opinion of what their callings should be.

I spend a lot of time discovering, nurturing, and even sharing their interests. I also go out of my way to ask for and value their opinions, even going with their opinions over mine on non-essentials.

Right now I'm reading (and enjoying) all of the books in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. I read books I'd not ordinarily read simply so that we can discuss them -- Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh and a basketball novel titled, The Moves Make the Man instantly come to mind as examples.

And most of all, I'm not afraid to admit my mistakes. If they feel I've wronged them, the door is always open for a calm discussion, and then either a clarification or an apology. Or sometimes both.

My hope is that I'm building a foundation now for adult children with whom I will enjoy a lifelong mutually-respectful relationship. A relationship of love, connection, and togetherness. I envision my children as capable, responsible adults who boldly pursue the plans God has for them and who embrace the close relationship God wants with them.

I'm far from perfect. Of that, I'm also sure. And I tell them that freely, so they know it's okay that they're not perfect either.

But one day when each of my adult children will call me on the phone because they want to, or will stop by just to ask me to pray with them; I'll know that with God's help, I will have succeeded...

in my practices of parenting. 

-rg-

There's Always Six More Weeks of Winter Left In Wisconsin, Right?

In fact, I'm pretty sure that in Wisconsin, the groundhogs are still hibernating well into April.

(A groundhog in our yard last summer.)

This year may be an exception, though. The temperatures have been warmer, and it seems we've been in a snow-drought that's lasted through most of January and now into February. Many people actually took their outside lights down this year during the week after Christmas. I didn't think that was allowed in Wisconsin, but apparently it is.

And the darkness. Oh the darkness.

The thing about wintertime snow is that it brightens up the dark. Without snow on the ground, the way-too-short days of those living near or above the 45th parallel end way to soon. The brightness of snow serves as a buffer for the encroaching nightfall. The moon reflecting off that snow cheers up the night and makes it so much more bearable and beautiful.

Yes, Wisconsin gets way too cold. Yes, Wisconsin has more snow than most people care to deal with. But for cold there is proper clothing. For snow there are snow blowers and really nice neighbors who help each other dig out.

It's the dark that gets people.

They drive to work in it. They drive home in it. And if they don't get outside during a break, they'll spend a whole week seeing nothing but it.

My husband and I have spoken with pastors and wives who had moved up from the South, only to decide a few short years later that they just could not handle living in the Upper Midwest. Overwhelmingly they've told us and others that it was the darkness of the winter that drove them away.

I've heard stories of those who would just become non-functioning during those months -- sleeping on the couch and hardly getting anything done.

That's why when our current church was sorting through résumés before they issued our call, they initially determined to avoid pastors from the South, and to especially avoid those from Texas (hah!). It was only by God's grace and mercy that they just couldn't bear to sort my husband's file into the "no" stack.

Fortunately for us, we came to Wisconsin with eyes and ears wide open. We spoke with pastors' families who had moved to Wisconsin and survived. We spoke with those who moved here and actually love it -- they feel like they're finally home. And we've spoken with people who have lived here all their lives, gleaning from them the mistakes they've seen transplanted southerners make over the years, and listening closely to their tips on how to avoid them.

Number one on the list is that no matter how brutally cold it is, no matter how many degrees below zero the windchill factor is, you have to get outside every single day.

Ideally, you go for a 30-minute walk. That may mean you spend 30 minutes inside getting yourself ready for those 30 minutes outside. It may mean that the only part of your body that is visible are your eyes (though some days you'd be wise to wear glasses of some sort).

But it's worth it. It's necessary. It's a sanity saver.

It's why we're still living in Wisconsin, and one reason why we're still loving it.

Beth Moore on Anxiety: "Here Am I. Hit Me!"

Awesome message from Beth Moore this morning! Just what I needed to hear.

Earlier in the week, she asked everyone to comment with their greatest prayer concern right now so that she could integrate some of them into her livestream video. (If you missed it, look in the archive under "Live Stream Devotional: What's your biggest concern?" -- and be patient, the audio gets better quickly.) 

Her video response to our comments nailed it, at least for me. I was convicted that I'm full of anxiety over things that I haven't fully surrendered to God. (And God will exalt you in due time, if you humble yourselves under his mighty hand by casting all your cares on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:6-7. http://bible.org/netbible/ )

Bingo!

"Anxiety is a waving red flag that says, 'Here am I. Hit me!'"

Bam! You'd think I wouldn't need that spelled out for me, but I'm so grateful that she did.

Several years ago, I was feeling very distant from God and under spiritual attack. I even blogged about it, back when I wasn't really blogging publicly that much here at blogger. It sunk in for a while. But here I've been again in a wrestling match with God.

It's so good to be reminded again and again, and to surrender to God what I should have surrendered a long time ago.

And that's why I think of Beth as an honorary Pastor's Wife. Thanks Beth for sharing your heart with us!

Do You Fit The Mold? Should You?

My confession: I actually do play the piano. Though nowadays you're more likely to see me behind a keyboard if I'm playing anything at all, I kind of feel the need to apologize to my fellow pastors' wives for that one!

I didn't know I'd marry a pastor when I took lessons. Honestly! ;-) I didn't know that doing so would reinforce a stereotype that many other pastors' wives would have to overcome. I didn't know being able to do such things would hinder others from feeling like they fit in.

Seriously though, none of us should fit a mold. We're not pod people. We're God's people. We're one body with many members.

Aren't we all square pegs? Shouldn't we all break the mold and rest in the potter's hand instead?

This morning I answered a question from a pastor's wife who's longing to fit in and be accepted for who she is. I don't know if she's putting expectations on herself, or if she's feeling pressure from others, or if it's a little bit of both.

All I know is that she's been feeling unwanted and alone. That makes me sad. I pray that she and the church she is a part of will embrace each other and grow together.

-rg-

and now I'm living in Wisconsin.

(a bit about me, in reverse order.)

Sunset, 1-27 @4:15 (b/c a snow picture is just too predictable)

 I'd always wondered what it'd be like to live where it snowed every winter. I'd always imagined how nice it would be to spend summertime in a place where the temperatures rarely got above 90F. And now I know.

Living in Wisconsin means...

...that boats are shrink-wrapped in autumn to keep hibernating critters out.
 
...that Christmas lights go on the house in early November and don't come off until late spring.

...that you plant your garden on memorial day weekend, and not a day before.

...that you don't have to force tulips into bloom, they just grow.

...that everyone has at least one hosta in their flower bed.

...that mosquitoes don't hover -- time is short, they go right in for the kill.

...that you never have to water your grass, even if it's that thirsty Kentucky Blue.

...that a bubbler is a water fountain, not a baptism gone bad.

...that you say, "pen" incorrectly. And "get". And you use too many syllables.

...that even the grammar teachers use incomplete sentences, "Your kids? Sure, bring them with!"

...that a couch and a coach are pronounced the exact same way by many.

...that it's not P.E.; it's Phy Ed (FIE-ed).

...that you have to listen intensely, because the words are spoken more rapidly.

...that your voice suddenly sounds like Huckleberry Hound by comparison.

...that a "ruff" is not only what your dog says, it's also on top of your house (roof).

...that you have to shovel a pathway for your dog to get to his/her "pooping grounds."

...that the aforementioned pooping grounds will generally stay frozen and preserved until the spring thaw.

...that all animals are inside animals, for at least part of the year.

...that all windows are drafty, even if they're double-paned.

...that ice forms on the inside of single-paned windows, so it could be worse.

...that ice on the ground is slippery -- especially when it looks like a clear puddle of water.

...that the greenness of summer seems so distant that you wonder if you've moved every winter.

...that you realize people in the South have no clue what northerners endure every winter.

...that people hibernate in the winter, too.

...that you should spend 30 minutes outside in the daylight, no matter how frigid the wind chill.

...that a clear day is much, much colder than a cloudy day.

...that birds and squirrels are just tougher up here.

...that birds (and squirrels) up here actually appreciate those bird seed pine cones rolled in peanut butter or shortening.

...that tortillas are not sold on the bread aisle.

...that if an older lady wants help in the grocery store, she'll ask; and you best not offer otherwise.

...that people outside of church are generally polite, but distant.

...that once you get to know people, they're the best friends you'll ever have. Well, except for a certain lady at a certain grocery store. ;-)