I Dare You : Praying for Someone You Don't Really Like

Ever had someone in your life that you have to deal with, you have to work with, you have to see regularly at school functions and you just don't like them?

It isn't that they've done anything horrible to you.

They're just... annoying.

Or maybe there is someone in your circle of influence who has caused you harm... or someone you have caused harm... or someone that you have seen hurting others.

Maybe someone who makes choices you simply can't understand, don't understand, are baffled by.

Someone who isn't necessarily toxic or dangerous to you... but someone that you generally prefer not to spend time with or have to work alongside.

Are you thinking of someone yet?

That annoying co-worker or ex-boss... that family member that just grates your nerves... that friend of a friend who is always crashing your plans...

Here's the challenge...

I want you to pray for them.  Every day. For the next week, at least. Maybe even longer. 30 days.

Admit to God that you are struggling to love this person as He loves them.

Ask Him to fill your heart with His love so that you can see this person through His eyes.

Ask Him to guide your thoughts and words and actions so that you are welcoming, affirming, and loving in all interactions with and about this person.

Pray this way every single day, maybe multiple times each day.

And see if your heart hasn't changed by the end.

See if you aren't starting to see this person in a slightly different light.

See if your heart hasn't started to soften a bit towards them.

Praying for someone that you just don't really like that much is a step towards forgiveness. It's a step toward self-growth.  It's a way of stretching yourself (and it might be uncomfortable to bring this annoying or even disliked person into your intimate time with Christ).

Write that person's name down on a slip of paper. Put it in your wallet or somewhere you might see it from time to time. And whenever you see it, pray for them. If you keep a prayer list or journal, add them to it. And in a week, write down ho wyou are feeling towards them. Make note of any interactions that were different than the last time.  And in another week, think about how you are feeling towards that person, how you interact with them, how you feel when they are around.

Start with 7 days. And maybe be bold enough to stretch it to 14 days... or even a full month.

Ask God to make big changes inside of you for the sake of benefiting someone else.

I dare you!

A Parenting Confession

I have a confession to make.  About myself. As a mom.

And here's the thing - what I really don't want is accolades and pats on the back and people telling me that I'm a good mom and I shouldn't be so hard on myself.

I know I'm a good mom. But I also know I have a big area of weakness and I know it needs work.  And the main thing that has always made me a good mom is that I seek to do better, to be better.

I have a temper.

I am a yeller.

I want to be a calm parent.

I sometimes yell because my temper goes off the hook and my child (to be honest, it's usually Teagan) has pushed that exact button and I lose my calm and I yell. I don't name call, I don't say cruel things. But I yell to get my point across.

Sometimes I yell to be heard.

Sometimes I yell to rush people.

I yell to feel bigger. I yell when I'm being lazy. I yell when I'm impatient.

There isn't much that's positive about being a yeller.

I do think that a firm tone, a raised voice helps kids realize the level of seriousness.

But when mom is quick to yell or lose her temper... there is no level of seriousness, there is only levels of angry vs not angry.

I'm not teaching when I yell.

Yes, I am. But I'm not teaching what I want to be teaching.

Part of why I don't like it when I yell is because when I yell, I'm just trying to be the boss. I'm not trying to actually teach and parent and guide.  I just want my kid to do exactly what I want them to do on my own timeline.

And there are times that this type of obedience is important.

And there are times that I need to get over myself.

I know I'm not alone in being a yeller. And I'm not alone in wanting to change. I know lots of bloggers have put out campaigns and confessions. Books have been written.

But this isn't about any of that. This is about 2 children that live in my home. This is about my marriage - my husband doesn't like that I yell.  We both have areas where we need to improve as parents. Yelling is the biggest one on my list.

My children deserve and need forgiveness and grace and guidance. And I need to be the one who provides it.

I need to love my kids in the same supportive and gentle and loving way that I love my friends, strangers, my extended family.

And I need to start today.

Money and Relationships #slaydebt

In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I am part of the Launch Team for my friend's book. Her name is Cherie Lowe (better known as The Queen of Free) and the book is the story of her family's fight to overcome debt.  You can check out more info on the book through this link: http://bit.ly/1vWL0jQ

I've been reading "Slaying the Debt Dragon" by Cherie Lowe.  As part of her launch team, I am also privvy to some images and tweets that she asks us to share. And sometimes those things really hit me upside the head!  This was one of them - this is something I can very much relate to on many levels.

As a kid, we had money struggles. It was just me and my mom. But new clothes weren't part of my growing up. Buying anything I wanted at the grocery store wasn't part of my growing up. Attending birthday parties or school skating parties weren't part of my growing up. We had to sacrifice some of the fun things because it wasn't in the budget.

And that often left me feeling less than. And that carried over into adulthood. And I found myself comparing what I had to what other people had and feeling like I needed to "keep up with the Joneses" in order to appear as normal as possible. Pride made it impossible to admit that I couldn't afford a night out at a restaurant with friends because I needed to make it to my next payday in 3 days.

I think about the friends I've had and the self imposed pride based choices I made and I also think about my friends now and how they see me and how I see them.

If a friend said to me... I can't go because I just really can't afford it... I would respect that. Because I've been there. And if I can afford to cover my friend, I will do so.

Because I wouldn't want anyone to ever feel like they need to torch their financial future in order to be friends with me.  Or to feel any sense of pressure to spend a certain way to buy certain things in order to be friends with me.

There is a section in Cherie's book - "Formidable Foes and Fellow Debt Slayers" - that has been speaking to my heart.  It has a lot of practical advice whether you are dealing with debt or just seeking some good advice for life in general.

For example, do you find yourself comparing your life to what you perceive about others?  "Everyone else..."  In the book, Cherie says "It helps to remember that we see only the parts we want for ourselves."  Wow! Yes! I hear people complain often about people being "fake" on Facebook, only sharing the good parts of life. Is it that others only share overly good stuff? Or is it that we are sensitive to seeing the things we think we are lacking?

And on the flip side of that...

When we start to get real about our problems... we might find that others back off, step away, or maybe even get a little mean because they see what they don't want to see about themselves in us.  I will freely admit that my owned green eyed monster (jealousy) has come out in the past when I've seen people posting and being excited about losing weight and running and being healthy. It's something I've done well in the past but is an ongoing struggle. When I see others succeeding, I have to admit my own failure in that area.

Or do I?

Maybe part of maturity is simply being able to find joy in someone else's happiness or accomplishments without turning it into something about me.

And maybe when we realize that, we can start to really take control of the important things on each of our unique journeys.

Another quick shout out to Cherie Lowe for this book. It may have started with a family in debt but the incredible message of hope and grace and peace and empowerment in this book is helpful on many levels for so many aspects of life!  Be sure to check it out and pick up or order your copy today!  http://bit.ly/1vWL0jQ

Friendship - Sometimes It Sucks

OK, most of the time, it shouldn't. And most of the time, friendships don't suck. Really.

But relationships... they aren't easy.

There is a reason why marriages fall apart.  There is a reason why friendships come to a bitter end.  There is a reason why family members turn on each other.

Feelings are hard. Relationships are hard.

As parents, we try to teach our kids to be kind to everyone, to be friends with most, to be discerning when choosing those closest friendships. But those are things that we, as adults, even struggle with.

Our circle of friends influence us and how we think and what we do.

Years ago, in my first marriage, my first husband and I started to spend a lot of time with friends who were recently divorced. I thought my mom was nuts when she said that spending time with all those recently divorced people will lead us to divorce.  But we did end up broken apart. Not just because our friends were divorced. We had serious problems between from before the day we spoke our vows. But having a social circle where the others in the group had a different kind of freedom... where they seemed to have found an answer to the problems... it introduced divorce as an idea. As a living thing.

The friends we choose influence the things we do, the things we say, the choices we make.  The friends we choose determine how we spend our time, our resources, our efforts.

I think there is a key word there.

Choose

Not everyone in our circles have to be our friends. Sometimes, there just isn't anything in common. Sometimes, there are life choices that just don't mesh with your own values. Sometimes, there isn't time to really build that new relationship and foster it to friendship.

Choose

We have to carefully choose the people we call friends. There is  quote I saw recently -

We need to choose people to be our friends who will make us live better.

That can be tough.

I'm going to call out my closest girlfriend - Christy. Christy is a special person in my life. We have a lot in common even if we don't do many activities in common anymore. She is very involved in community theatre and I'm very involved in my church and now in tae kwon do with my family. But we have core values that are the same. We have a sense of humor that is similar. We love diverse foods and cultures and experiences. But most of all, I know that if I'm making a mistake, she will call me on it. And if it's a big one that has the potential to really harm people, she's the person that would go to my husband or someone else to help her in helping me.

And she knows I would do the same for her.

I remember back in college I had a friend (we're still friends) and his life was unraveling. He was spinning out of control. I was trying my best to be a good friend but the relationship fell apart. When I opened up to my mom about it, she made the choice to contact this friend's dad and fill him in on what was going on. Because she would have wanted someone to step in to help me in the same way. At the time, it was mortifying for him and for me. Looking back, credit is given as it being a pivotal life saving choice.

See? Sometimes friendship sucks. Because you have to do hard things. Or you have to decide to step away from the relationship because it's unhealthy for you. Or you realize that someone just doesn't mesh with you. Or you see that the friendship may lead you down the wrong path.

Friendship ending... or pulling apart... or going through uncomfortable growth? That part of friendship sucks. Because it can be painful. Because you have to make hard choices.

A strong, close friendship gives you someone you can trust, someone you can laugh with, someone you can share with, someone you can open up to, someone you can rely on. And sometimes to get to the point where a friendship is truly helping you live better... you have to go through some painful growth in the process. But getting through that difficult growth can have incredible rewards.

Christy gave me a gift for Christmas that really touched me and really spoke to the value of our friendship. It's 2 hearts side by side and connected. And it says "I'm glad in God's design, your path crossed mine."

That's important to me, personally. Each relationship is God given - whether it's a relationship with strong benefit to my life (like my marriage or my friendship with Christy) or whether it's a relationship where I learn from mistakes I made or mistakes they made (like my first marriage).  Every interaction, every crossing of paths, whether they run together for a while or they simply cross for a short time, every interaction is designed to teach, to ignite growth. Every person in my life, every joy, every pain, every frustration, every sadness... it all helps me grow in God's purpose.

Doesn't mean that hurt feelings don't hurt. Doesn't mean I don't get petty. Doesn't mean I don't make mistakes. Doesn't mean that things are magically easy. But it does mean that I can understand that this hard time will lead to something positive, something in His plan for my life or my friend's life or in someone else's life. And that at least helps me gain perspective on the hard circumstances and better see the blessings in the good times.

Friendship. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it's life saving. Most of the time, it's a joy and a blessing.

Christmas Magic

I originally posted this story on December 10, 2008. It's my intention to share it every year as it's an important part of my childhood.

I believe that Christmas is full of magic. Some of it comes from the things people do and some of it comes from angels, miracles, God, etc. My magic Christmas was full of both kinds of magic.

My mom and I struggled when I was a child. She was a single parent until I was 10. She was in dental school full time, working part time, we lived on student loans and her meager income. Lots of assistance from our church family. But not always an abundance of food. No extras for parties or presents or brand new clothes. Living in a safe neighborhood but not a great neighborhood. So Christmas was never a big deal. I wanted it to be. But there weren't traditions that we followed. We didn't have much family around so that wasn't an option. I remember traveling to spend a Christmas with my birth father's family one year. That would have been when I was 4 or 5. I have seen the pictures of the holidays with my grandparents in their home before they moved away (we lived in Lexington and they moved to Elizabethtown).

So mom and I were sometimes on our own for Christmas. We sometimes went to wherever the family was. And one year, we went to visit a family friend. A husband and wife with 3 boys of their own. The oldest was a year or so older than me and the middle son was a year or so younger than me. The youngest was a baby at the time. They had a nice house. A tri-level. The boys had oodles of cool things to play with. It was through this family that I learned of Doctor Who and He-Man and Star Wars (Jeff thanks them for this). Their Mom was warm and kind and smiling eyes. And gave amazing, wrap you up and make everything else disappear hugs. Dad was a scientific type and had a wicked little sense of humor that fantastically embarrassed his children. Not having a dad of my own at this point, I was absolutely in awe of this man. So we make the drive (they lived in Illinois, I think, so it was a long haul) with plans to spend several days with these friends. I don't remember most of the visit. I do remember Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.

I was used to being the kid who didn't have what everyone else had. I was used to masking my jealousy, my desires. I was used to protecting myself and my mom from my disappointment and hurt. So I was prepared for that.

The first part of the memory is Christmas Eve. We kids were sent off to bed after the live tree had been put up. Just the tree, bare. No lights, no decorations. The 3 of us (not including the baby) shared a room and spent a lot of time giggling and snorting and laughing and talking and getting told to hush and go to sleep, being threatened with a lack of Santa... you know the drill. I didn't believe in Santa anymore but kept my mouth shut for the sake of the younger of the 2 boys. As we goof off, we are watching out the window from time to time. It was a cold, clear, bright night. And there was a very bright star right outside the window. The adults told us it was the North Star, the same Star that the shepherds and Kings followed to find the stable... we goof off some more and look out the window... the star has moved to the other side of the window. From the right side to the left side. We holler for the adults... and get the "time passes, the earth rotates, blah, blah, blah" answer. So we keep talking and telling stories and look up again... IT MOVED BACK. Major freakout, adults don't believe us, mini-chaos ensues. The adults brush it off and tell us to get to sleep, they shut the blinds. It's the last I remember from that night. Sleep must have followed soon after. Or we ended up separated, who knows.

Then the morning comes. The oldest son is awake and excited and jumping around, running up and down the hallway, eager for everyone to wake so we can go downstairs and see the presents. No one had been downstairs yet (their family tradition was that the family goes down together). Remember... this is a tri-level home. So you come down from the bedrooms, into the living room, turn the corner to head down to the den... the kitchen overlooks it... we scramble into the kitchen to look over into the den...

Magic.

I had never seen anything so magnificent in my life. I still haven't. The tree was decorated and lit with tiny white lights. There was gold paper and decorations everywhere. There were stockings overflowing on the mantle of the fireplace. The presents... the pile at the bottom of the tree spilled out onto the surrounding floor and spread all the way down the length of the fireplace. I got very caught up in the moment. No one could see that sight and not get caught up in the magic. Overnight, the room went from a plain old den to a Christmas Wonderland. It was amazing.

Reality hit soon though. No matter how exciting it is to see a huge pile of presents... the disappointment of knowing they aren't YOUR presents does eventually sink in. So while the 2 boys went racing down the steps so they could start dividing out who got what present, I hung back and put on my mask to cover the disappointment. To steel myself for the watching of the boys opening their piles while I probably opened 1 or 2 gifts.

I came down the stairs with my mom. And there was a pile for me. A large pile. More than 1 or 2 presents. My mom had tears in her eyes... she didn't even know how much this family had done for us. There were envelopes in that tree... to this day, I don't know what all was in them but my assumption is gift certificates and cash for my mom. And I sat down and slowly began to open my gifts. So beautifully wrapped, with gold, glowing bows. I wanted the morning to last forever. I wanted the magic to stay with me forever. The boys tore through their openings, ripping through paper, tossing aside ribbons.

It was my magic Christmas. I don't remember most of what I got that year. I believe it was mostly clothing and practical things. But I was given a beautiful doll. Not a baby doll. But a blond haired doll with eyes that opened and closed and she wore a gorgeous brown velvet Victorian style dress with a matching hat and little black velvet shoes and tiny little white lace pantaloons. I never named her but I did keep her.



Christmas is just days away... And I will remember that most magical of Christmases... when I learned about compassion and humanity and felt included and loved in a way I hadn't ever expected or anticipated. And I will continue to work to teach my daughter and my son that same lesson. To this day, I work to pay forward the kindnesses that were done for me and my mom. Especially at Christmastime. Because every child, every person deserves a Magic Christmas!

Cuss Words

Fair warning - this post will contain some adult language not normally found on this blog.

I've been waiting for this day. And I'm honestly surprised that we made it to 4th grade without much incident. I've always been of the assumption that once you reach the upper levels of elementary, you've started being exposed to bigger topics and broader world visions than what you get at home. 

I know I first started hearing cuss words on the bus.  I would have been pretty young - I'm thinking maybe 2nd grade or so.  I also remember getting mad at my mom and writing some cuss words on my wall with a pencil. She cleaned it up and then we sat down and had a conversation about cuss words. What I really remember was her explanation as to why she sometimes liked to use the word "shit."  It starts out soft with the shhhhh sound and then ends with a hard and angry sound - T.  

My mom wasn't much of a cusser.

When Jeff and I met, he had quite a vocabulary. When I got pregnant, he knew he had to change his ways. So he started subbing the word "smurf" for the cuss words.  Which sometimes led to some very funny sentences. But it did change the habit.

We aren't a house that cusses. And we are mindful of language around the kids. When I do cuss, it's at work or out with a friend and not generally just randomly sprinkled in my conversation but more to provide emphasis or emotion.

So my kids haven't really been exposed to a lot of cuss words.  And when they have been in a room where someone says Shit or Damn... we just haven't really reacted. We don't give power to the word.

Recently, I was home with the kids and Jeff was out. Teagan tells me that she had an interesting experience at the before care program that morning.  A kid was running around telling people to say "gay bitches." Teagan then says "And I fell for it until my friend told me it was bad and so I stopped Zach - thankfully, he didn't say it!"

I love that kids think that saying a cuss word is an action that might cause you to implode or something. Like the act of saying the word is the bad part - not the meaning of the word. I like that because, at least for my kids, they haven't learned the power of those bad words yet. The words themselves don't hold meaning... so it's akin to a bad thing like stealing or hitting someone. Saying the words is a bad action to them.

Teagan goes on to tell me that she didn't know what those words meant. So I took a deep breath and knew it was time to address the topic.

We know what the word gay means and in our family, it isn't a bad word. But sometimes people use it like it's a bad thing to be gay. 

Bitch is a derogatory term used towards women. Then I have to explain what "derogatory" means.

Then I ask if they've heard any other words that they know are bad words but they don't understand them...

Teagan says she's heard kids talk about "the s word" but she doesn't know what that word is...

*deep breath*

So I explain that the word is "shit."

Zach wants to know what the words means.

Well, it's another word for poop but it's mostly a term people use when they are angry or frustrated. 

Zach looks at me, very seriously, and says...

"So if I say "You look like shit," I'm going to get in trouble?"

Yep. You will get in trouble, buddy. 

We then go on to the word "ass." Which I explain means butt or donkey. But again, it's a word people use when they are angry and they aren't really using it with that meaning to it.

Teagan then tells me...

"I hear Daddy use ass in the car when he's driving. A lot."

I thought we were done at this point. I thought we'd made it through. I didn't want to get to the "f bomb" because I didn't want to try and explain the definition of the word. 

But it seems to be over.

Until...

"Mom, what does "frickin" mean?"

I just explain that it's a substitute word for a really bad word and that people use it when they are angry or frustrated (notice that pattern of anger and frustration).

And days later, I realize that I've caught myself using "frickin" far more often in my home than I had been aware of... 

Lesson learned. Little pitchers have big ears. They hear everything and absorb everything... even the things we aren't aware of. 

Teagan starts 5th grade next year and I know we will be facing a lot more of these kinds of topics. I'm relieved that it took this long to really be exposed to "bad words." I'm glad my kids held on to some of this innocence for as long as they did. I'm glad we've built our home in a community and in a church where my kids have been able and will continue to be able to be children and not forced to grow up too soon, too quickly. 

For some, cuss words are no big deal. For me, cuss words are a step into a more adult world. And I'm fine with holding that off for as long as possible.

Baby Jesus Class Project

I've never participated in this sort of school project but most any TV show involving a school certainly has - being tasked with caring for a "baby."  Usually part of a health class and always a source of humor as the robotic baby won't stop crying or the potato baby loses an appendage.

The purpose of the assignment is generally to teach a young teen that a baby is a serious responsibility and that you can't just treat it like a toy.  You can't just take for granted that you can turn it off or leave it in a drawer or whatever.

Kind of like Jesus.

Bear with me here.

It's that time of year that we start hearing all kinds of shouts of "Keep Christ in Christmas!"

I'm not necessarily one of those type of folks.  For me, Christmas is a religious holiday and it is the celebration of the birth of Christ.  No, I don't believe that Jesus was literally born on December 25.  Yes, I do believe that Christmas has roots that go further back than the noted life of Christ himself.

I also believe that there isn't anything anyone can do that will take Christ *out* of my Christmas.  If that's how I choose to celebrate, that is how I will celebrate.  I don't give any government or group or person or store or advertisement enough power to take Jesus away from me or from my holiday.

I saw this on Facebook today:

And I think it's an important message.  We can yell and scream about "our" holiday being commercialized... or we can live like Christ, set the example, seek to be more like the man we study and our example will scream louder than our angry sentiments about a holiday.

Want to really keep Christ in Christmas?  Want to really and truly understand the arrival of a King, a Saviour, a Warrior in the form of a simple and innocent and vulnerable baby?

Wear Jesus this Christmas.

Get a baby doll. Get a sling or a baby carrier.  Name that doll Jesus.  Carry it with you everywhere you go.  Talk to the baby Jesus in your arms.  Keep your doll close to you to protect him and love him and care for him.  Be aware of this tiny life in your arms when you yell at your kids or your spouse, when you raise your hand to spank the dog.  Look at his tiny face when you gossip to your friend over coffee, when you talk behind someone's back.  Hold his small hand when you curse someone in traffic... when you turn a blind eye to the homeless man on the corner.

Do you live your life every day as if you were carrying Jesus in your arms?  Do you live your life each day as though Christ is guiding your heart?  Or do you set the doll aside... flip the switch to off for a break... tuck the doll in a drawer so you don't look uncool around your friends?

Wear Jesus this Christmas.  Hold him in your arms.  Wear him in a sling.  Keep him loved and warm and protected.

Be aware of Jesus in your arms when you hug a child or console someone who is hurting.  Look at his sweet face before you speak any words about another person.  Hold his hand when you pray for others, when you ask for forgiveness.

The best way to "keep Christ in Christmas?"

Keep Christ in YOU.