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Posts Tagged ‘parenting’

Remains #3

03 Aug

…to react or to respond…

Every difficult situation we encounter offers us a choice. We can either react or we can respond. And there’s a world of difference between those two replies. Unfortunately, it is our nature to react…which is a negative reply. It is far better to respond!

Imagine that you’re sick enough to visit the doctor, and the doctor prescribes a particular medication. If the new meds cause you to break out in a rash and spike a fever, you would be “having a reaction” to the medication. (In the medical world there’s no question…a reaction is bad!)

If however, after you begin taking the new meds you notice that your condition is improving, you would be “responding to the medication.” (In the medical world, responding is good!)

And so it is in life. Reacting to a situation is deadly…responding to a situation is life-giving.

When a child brings home a lousy report card, the parent has a choice. The parent can react by saying, “You’re as dumb as your father! You’re grounded for a week.” Or the parent can respond by saying, “It looks like you’re going to need to study better. Let’s set aside time each night when we can work on homework.”

Those of us struggling with addictions must learn to respond rather than to react. When faced with intense situations, our natural instinct to react leads us to drink, or drug, or eat. Yet when facing that same difficult situation, our ability to respond, allows us to consider all aspects of the situation…and to grasp whatever lesson lays waiting to be learned.

 
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Posted in attitude, New Life

 

…sand boxes…

22 Jul

Stream of consciousness is a strange thing. I was told a story last week about a seemingly homeless man who died with several thousand dollars in his pockets. My mind began to wonder…as it often does, when someone other than myself is talking. I suddenly remembered an elderly old man, with an even older truck, who used to deliver sand every summer for my sandbox.

We all thought the old guy was “dirt poor” but when the he died years later we discovered that he had been quite wealthy…which was a complete shock to everyone who knew him.

Anyway, thinking of the masquerade of wealth, reminded me of that old guy which reminded me of the sand…which reminded me of my childhood sandbox. Our sandbox must have been rather large, since the swing set sat within the confines of the box. All in all it was a pretty nifty contraption: the swing set had a basketball hoop on one end, a slide on the other, and the whole thing sat inside the sandbox.

On really hot days, Mom would let me take the water hose into the sandbox so I could make sand castles…which my brother would quickly destroy. (Please note here that I’m attempting to control my stream of consciousness…lest I begin a tirade about being the second sibling.)

Needless to say, I’ve got good memories of my sandbox. So now, I’m forced to ponder, why didn’t I provide my children with sandboxes of their own? Was I too lazy to build the box, too cheap to purchase the sand…or was I more concerned with raising grass than with raising children?

Why is it that nobody has sandboxes anymore?

 
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Posted in New Life

 

…when masks become molds…

10 Feb

I’ll always remember taking my son home from the hospital a few days after he was born. I tried to look like a professional father as I strapped our newborn into his seat, covered him with a blanket, and carefully assisted my wife into the car.

I might have looked like a professional father…but I was scared to death! So I decided to fake it until I could make it…I donned a daddy mask.

I suppose that in some ways we all wear masks. Just as new mothers wear mommy masks to hide their insecurities…so do married couples sometimes wear masks to hide emotions that have lost their intensity.

Surgeons hide behind their scrubs…judges behind their robes…and police officers behind their badges. Nearly everyone sports some sort of mask to hide their fears or their shortcomings.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could allow our masks to become molds? If we considered that our masks were actually molds, then we could begin to grow into them. And over time, we’d possibly become the parent, spouse, or professional we were already pretending to be.

Just for today, I’ll strap on my mask of kindness. I’ll do my best to be accepting and empathetic to those I encounter. I’ll hold doors for people I don’t know. I’ll say nice things to the grocery store cashier. I’ll wait patiently for the elderly couple who cross the street so slowly.

Yes, just for today, I’ll wear my mask of kindness. And I might even wear that same mask tomorrow and the next day. And hopefully, as I grow and mature over time…I might actually become the person my mask portrays me to be.

 
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Posted in New Life

 

…no time for that…

13 Dec

The mall was filled with last minute Christmas shoppers. A young mother was rushing furiously from one store to another. Since she hadn’t been able to find a sitter, she had been dragging her three year old son faster than his little legs could carry him. Suddenly she became aware that his pudgy little hand was no longer clutching hers.

Panic stricken, she began screaming his name and shouting to everyone within earshot that her son was missing. Within a few minutes, the little guy was found standing with his little nose pressed flatly against a gift shop window…where he was examining at a finely crafted manger scene.

Hearing his mother’s near hysterical call, he turned and innocently whispered, “Look mommy! It’s Jesus – baby Jesus in the hay!”

With obvious frustration and indignation, she jerked him away from the window saying, “We don’t have time for that!”

Well…now that Christmas is less than two weeks away, I beg us to all make time to celebrate the baby’s birth. Let us all set aside time to worship on Christmas Eve. The meal preparation can wait. The present wrapping can wait. Let’s all take time to worship the Christ child’s birth on Christmas Eve.

 
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Posted in New Life

 

…it takes more than a grandbaby to make a grandpa…

14 Sep

Well it’s finally happened. Daughter Chapin gave birth to Cameron Miles on August 20, 2010.

For nine months I’ve wondered how it would feel to be a grandpa. But now that the little guy is here…well, I still wonder! I’m still not sure how it feels to be a grandpa…not yet anyway. Of course I love the little guy. Holding him is a precious reminder of the time I first held his mother 23 years ago. He’s 8 pounds and 7 ounces of living proof that God is alive and well. He’s promise and confidence and hope and future.

Still, I’m not yet sure how it feels to be a grandpa. I’m sure the grandpa feeling will come later…when Cameron’s old enough for us to play at the park…or to go for walks in the woods. But for now, I have no idea how it feels to be a grandpa.

But that’s alright; I’m content to be his mother’s daddy…content to bask in the pride that comes with being this baby’s mother’s daddy.

I’m amazed at watching my little girl care for her baby boy. She seems so mature…so domestic…so motherly!

She is no longer the little girl who tried to play soccer while wearing roller blades. Gone is the fuzzy headed kindergartner who lived on chicken McNuggets. Gone is the lanky young teenager I had to carry upstairs to bed nearly every night. She’s all grown up now…with a baby of her own.

Sometime down the road, I’ll probably feel like a grandpa. But for now…I’m content to be the baby’s mother’s daddy.

 
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Posted in New Life

 

…don’t switch the price tags…

18 Jul

Years ago, it was fairly simple for people to switch the price tags on store items. They’d simply peel the price sticker off a less expensive item, and stick it onto a more expensive item. Since the price tag’s glue was rather inferior, it was a fairly simple process…or so I’m told.

And those who practiced this type of deception didn’t consider themselves thieves; since they were still paying for the item…they just weren’t paying the full price.

Over the years, stores have gone to great lengths to prevent shoppers from switching the price tags. The glue has been improved. The tags have become perforated, preventing them from being removed in one piece. Price tags are now attached with nylon strips which cannot be reattached to higher priced items.

The message seems crystal clear: DON’T SWITCH THE PRICE TAGS.

Although most of us would never consider switching the price tags on store items, we still engage in the same deceptive process in other areas of our lives. If we choose to work late, rather than attending Junior’s ball game…we’ve switched the price tags. If we choose the Sunday morning paper over our Sunday morning worship…we’ve switched the price tags. If we tip the waiter 20%…and only offer God 10%…we’ve switched the price tags.

 
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Posted in New Life

 

…the actor or the director…

10 Jul

Maybe you’ve known this all along…but I’m just now catching on. We’d be a lot more successful in our relationships and our careers if we’d simply decide to be the actor…rather than the director.

Although it might at first appear easier to direct our children with such statements as, “Pick up your room!” We’d be much more successful (and instructional) to say, “Hey, let’s be a team and pick up your room.” Working together, we can model for the child the best approach to cleaning the room. Working together, the child senses that he/she is part of a team.

Although it might at first appear easier to direct our spouse with such statements as, “You need to clear the table and wash the dishes”…we’d be much more successful to say, “Let’s clear the table and wash these dishes so we can relax for the rest of the evening.” Working together promotes conversation and camaraderie.

Being the actor instead of the director encourages me to make necessary changes in my own behavior, and discourages me from attempting to control others.

Being the actor instead of the director promotes what some might call “servant leadership.”

 
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Posted in New Life