Moody Blues Clues

Ever get a song "stuck in your head"? You know, where it plays over and over whether you want it to or not? Or, have you been driving and the radio plays a song from 7th grade and you remember the entire scene as if it were unfolding fresh today?

A few years ago while on church staff, a team of adults took half the children's choir to a local senior citizen's care facility to sing Christmas carols. We arrived at the appointed time and were shown the lounge where the children would sing. Then we waited as several dozen medium care seniors were wheeled in, one by one. Some sat upright and alert with tubes attached. Some were slumped over and appeared asleep with tubes attached. Some were clearly bewildered. Every eye looked tired and their frames were withered and weathered.

Watching the seniors being wheeled into a semi-circle and having their tubes and bags adjusted by dutiful aides, my heart ached for them. Most of them seemed quite out of it. A few of them brightened at the sight of the younger kids. I wondered if this was going to mean anything to the seniors and how the kids would react to such a non-traditional audience. I prayed we would be a blessing in some way.

We opened with a song or two from our recent Christmas musical. The kids sang well considering we had no music. Some seniors smiled, most remained unaffected.

Then our parent leader had us sing some classic Christmas carols that had not been part of the musical but are ones that everybody knows. As soon as we began "Away in a Manger" everything changed and a new energy entered the room. Every senior began to sing along with us, their faces lit up and their eyes bright. We kept going with "Jingle Bells", "Deck the Halls" and more. Each song brought out their thin voices and bright smiles all around. The children sensed what had happened, too. It was a memorable hour for all.

That day I learned how powerful words set to music really are, and how they lock themselves within us forever. We might not remember that we remember, but once reminded, all the verses will flow like the song on the radio you haven't heard in forever but can sing right along with. And some songs can bring life and peace into a tired and weary existence. Wow.

What if we sang more character-building messages than we spoke? What if we sang words of comfort and Bible verses? I believe they will come back and bless our children in their futures when least expected. As much as I like old Beatles music, I would much rather a worship song is on the tip of their memory because of what the those words can do.

I once had a tape with old nursery rhyme melodies set to Christian songs for my kids. It's a start. But maybe even "She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah" can be a comfort too? They sang it with mommy and daddy after all.

When our son was 4 years old, he heard us cranking up our Moody Blues CD in the living room. We had recently heard them in concert and I had more than enjoyed being the youngest person by far in the audience. He ran into his bedroom and came out ready to dance with us wearing his Blues Clues Halloween costume! Every time I hear "I Know You're Out There Somewhere", I remember that precious night with our earnest little boy.

My Pen

Writing about the evils of a pencil the other day reminded me of my Pen Story. I too got in trouble, only instead of suspension it was the old "put your desk in the corner" shaming.

It was second grade. Wait, first you have to know that I have "lived inside my head" since forever. An avid reader, I was always creating different narratives in my head and doing illustrations when time permitted - like after school.

Back to the story. At the time I was in second grade, and one of the popular shows on TV that I had the good fortune to watch before bedtime involved secret agents. They were the coolest! They worked for good and always stopped evil. Week after week, dressed in suits and raincoats, they solved the crime or saved the world. At least one of them wore a brimmed hat in addition the the belted raincoat.  When they were at their most secretive, they communicated with secret pens. All you had to do to use it was unscrew the middle and place the top under the bottom. Nifty, for sure.

When my parents bought me a non-yellow non-plastic cloth raincoat complete with a belt and a brimmed hat, I was thrilled. Now I would look just like the agents I so admired. Never mind that their coats were beige and mine powder blue, this would work.

I waited with baited breath for a forecast of rain so I could begin a mission of my very own without parental knowledge. About a week later my dream came true: morning showers. Off I went to school in my belted new coat, brimmed hat and hands thrust deeply into my side pockets just like I'd seen on TV. Clutched in my right hand inside the pocket  was my special pen - the one I would be communicating to Command Central with.

This pen is particularly notable because at the time second graders were not allowed pens, only pencils and crayons. Pens were for third grade on up. I had brought my pen from home.

The morning started off okay. I was to report in on classroom activities. Since I was working, I did not hang my coat in the cloakroom with the rest of the class. I needed to be in uniform. My teacher didn't seem to mind that I was sitting at my desk in a raincoat and hat for at least an hour. Then we had recess. From time to time, I would cautiously bring the pen out of my pocket and whisper a short message before reassembling it and placing it back inside. I was a good agent!

After recess I attempted to sit down again without removing my coat and hat. I checked in again with Command Central. "I'm back inside at my desk." I whispered. "We are doing Spelling."

My teacher noticed my cover at last. "Go hang your coat up with all the others and take off that hat."

"I can't, " I replied.

"You can't?!" She snapped.

"I just can't...." I said hopelessly.

Returning to my job, I unscrewed the pen and informed Command Central that I had to take off my coat.  I trudged to the back of the room and hung up my coolest spy outfit ever and returned to my desk. I was so engrossed in my mission, the incredulous stares from the rest of the class did not phase me one bit. This was my mission.

Seated back at my desk, the teacher resumed the spelling lesson and I dutifully resumed reporting in the status of the class.

The teacher noticed me whispering comments into the pen in my hand and indignantly told me to stop being a distraction and to put that pen away. Once again I sincerely informed the teacher, "I can't."

As she marched down the aisle, her spelling book clutched under her arm she repeated her command using both my first and last names. I kept reporting in.

The last message Command Central received from me that day was when I half stood and sputtered into the pen as it was being yanked from my grip, "She - is - taking - my - pen - right - now!!Sorry!!"

I would have to wait until after school to continue my mission...

What to Tell Kids About the Boston Terrorist Attack

No matter how histroy or the media will refer to the attack on Boston the day of the infamous marathon, it was an act of terror. As of this writing, no entity has claimed credit but there are two suspects. Inflicting death and fear on innocent, unsuspecting people gathered for a celebratory event is terrorism - even if it comes from within our own country. The very definition of terrorism is to terrify. And that it did. Not only those present, but with the images we continue to see repeated around the world, we can all be terrified. We can all cry for what has destroyed lives and families in a country that is supposed to be great. Great and safe.

As I visited articles on the web, I was forced to see photo after photo capturing the hundreds of stories and conditions of the victims. At first I was sickened at the sight of so much blood. So much destruction. Faces captured writhing in pain or stunned in shock. It is a horror that has only begun the first chapter in what comes next for all these people. And our nation.

But as I tapped through the pictures something else became clear. For every one person on a stretcher or collapsed on the ground, one or more passersby or neon-vested emergency official was also there. It wasn't just one person pushing a gurney toward an ambulance, it was a handful! There is a photo of a half-dozen police men unholstering their guns at the sound of the second explosion. There is a picture of a woman laying face down on the sidewalk with a man who had thrown his body over her.

No one was alone that day.

The city had prepared. When the unthinkable happened,the emergency plan was enacted and the officers, troopers, emergency crews went to work. They were aided by regular people. The ones on the side lines and the ones in the street. Everyone worked together instantaneously. That gives me chills and restores my faith in human nature.

God was there in the midst of the blood and debris and horror. He was there under a vest, in a wheelchair, in a blanket. In the arms of a stranger helping another stranger. He was already there before the marathon started. He was with all the contingency planners and emergency training. Our runners were never alone. He was there when three innocent people lost their lives. He was there while other people lost their legs. He was there as every piece of metal hurled itself into unsuscepcting bodies. He was there with each turn of the ambulance wheels racing toward emergency rooms.

He is there now, comforting the families and nursing damaged souls and bodies. He is there now as law enforcement agencies work round the clock to unearth every detail about those responsible. He is the hands and equipment being used to bring healing.

He doesn't wear a bright neon vest or carry a sign, so we can't always see him. But we can always see evidence of him. Just like one season transitioning into another. He is always here. Evil happens, but it is not more powerful than God.

Seeing those determined faces of bystanders and emergency workers affirmed to me that God is good.

Many people were hurt that day, but many more remained safe. Many people who didn't know each other before the marathon are now being helped and prayed for. That is the testimony of God's goodness.

It was supposed to be a fun day that gave participants bragging rights. Instead it became another day we will never forget reminding us that we cannot take anything for granted. It can also become a day that reminds us that God never leaves us, not ever.

What would I tell kids? Aside from limiting their exposure to repeated media images...That help was there in the midst of horror. That God was with every single person and that no one was or is ever alone. In the happy and sad times God is God. God is bigger than evil. Goodness and evil are not equal. Goodness is greater. God did not cause that horror, he rescued it. Just like he rescued us through his Son Jesus Christ.

Let's Pray

I see and hear lots of prayer requests in many forms. There isn't a day that someone on Facebook isn't asking people to pray for a co-worker, baby or body part. A few days later I sometimes even see a jubilant "thank you" to all those who were praying because the prayer worked.

Okay, that's not why they were thankful, it was because they experienced a positive outcome. They got a "yes" to the question they had asked the Creator of the universe. Therefore, they were rejoicing in their answer to prayer.

I think it is a mistake to teach children that a "yes" from God = answered prayer because that leads to the thinking that a "no" must mean unanswered prayer.

How often do we all entrust the deepest desires of our hearts to God and wait with baited breath for him to say yes? Note that I did not say wait for him to answer, because if we are all honest don't we want him to always say yes? My family has been waiting over five years for God to make clear our paths. The fog has lifted here and there but none of us can say at this point that God has answered our biggest and longest-prayed prayer.

What we need to teach children is that prayer is not about the answer we get or when we get the answer. Prayer is about releasing our need into God and stepped back in trust. I will say this again because I really need to hear this today: prayer is about entrusting God no matter what with all of our needs. Letting him know that we agree that we don't know what he knows and that we trust him. Our desired "yes" may look good in our eyes, but God's "no" or "wait" may have broader impact than we can see from our human vantage point.

God always answers prayer. He either says "yes", "no" or "wait". I think we should dance as delightedly for each answer because they are all the same -- from our loving God who is active in our lives whether we think so or not. Each answer is an answer, yippie! That is what I try to teach children.

We surely don't want kids to think God is some kind of magical Santa-being, reduced to passing out lollipops and sugar plums. We don't want to teach our kids that we ask, ask, ask and that's prayer. Kids need to know that asking is but a fragment of a complete prayer. Sometimes it's understandable or necessary to shoot out a "help" prayer, but part of our prayer life should include four components:

A - Adore God for who he is and what he does for the world

C - Confess our mess-ups: the things we have done that we shouldn't have done; and the things we have not done that we should have done (sin)

T - Thank God specifically for what he is doing in your life and world (make a list!)

A - Ask God for help - for people, for yourself, behavior, needs, etc.

When teaching young kids, keep it short and simple. I like to make it realistic by talking about all the places and times we can pray in order for children to understand that we can and should be praying at any time. While brushing teeth, in the middle of a test, on your bike, when you pick up scissors. There isn't a time in our everyday lives that we don't need to talk and listen to God.

Speaking of listening, one of my favorite things to teach is to make a list of all the wonderful things (attributes) about God and sit still. Sit and think of just those things. Talk about a perspective adjustment!

If we can teach our kids that prayer goes both ways, we will have some strong followers of Christ ebbing into adulthood. Then they can pass on their trust to the next generation, and the next to the next and the next.

That's my prayer for my family.

Invisible Love

Currently, there is lots of media attention being paid to online relationships – especially ones where it turns out the people have never even met but have fallen deeply in love. These relationships have lasted for years and are real in every way: deep sharing occurs, trust is established, the other is valued, life is celebrated, gifts are exchanged and lives are impacted. All without ever having met.

People are eager and willing to enter into and continue relationships based upon information presented online. They open their lives, hearts and wallets – all without ever having met the other person. (The skeptic in me pictures the person on the other end as some nut living in his grandmother's basement with his PC parked next to the water heater.)

What amazing trust – offered without question sometimes even more quickly than face to face relationships. People investing in these "invisible" relationships confidently defend their actions by declaring it is “love”.

At the core of everyone is a deep need to be loved and cherished. The fact that people would search where there is no complete answer tells us how desperate humans have become. They have completely missed the reason why God created humans in the first place.

This has me thinking about God’s “invisible love”.

What about that? God’s love is not only invisible in today’s economy it is not even valued as much as that invisible love from a keyboard miles away typing into our souls. Why, I wonder, are people so willing to engage in an invisible relationship online rather than develop a real relationship with God through Jesus Christ? Trust is given these online “friends” while real relationships wait on the side lines. And both are equal? In today’s culture I guess so. But not in God’s eyes.

Let’s focus our kids on who is real and investing in their lives. Even though they can’t see God, he is real. Even though they can see the internet icon, faceless “friends” are not real. We’ve got our work cut out for us, haven’t we? Especially with younger kids who are still concrete thinkers.

This is the question parents of today must face. They must know who else is competing for their children’s attention and they must balance that with everyday life. To fail in this is to lose another generation to self-focus and regulate seeking God once again to an option on some life-menu of our own design.

The thing that should shake us to our core is the "menu". When we order, we think we can go back another time and pick something else. We’re fooled into thinking that all choices are equal. They’re not. What we do with our relationship with God is truly more important than anything else. Our kids need to know what that looks like and how much more real that is in their techno-online-CGI-instant world. Just because they cannot see or touch it, does not mean we can not point them to the evidence of how real God is.

This will look different for each child. My prayer is for each parent to find that ah-ha connection where you are able to communicate the real love of a real God to your child. For me, it means I have lots of conversations with God. He loves our kids more than we do, so I’d say we have the best resource available. And we don’t even have to Google him.

Not My Daughter

The divorce of a major celebrity couple has been at the top of the media radar for the past few weeks. While a celebrity divorce is nothing new, the suggestion that the mother was leaving because of the potential faith influence of her husband is. Now that the little girl is six, mom decided to take action.

I say she is seven years late for two reasons.

1. Before considering marriage the single most important thing a couple must agree on is their faith. They cannot sweep this aside not only because it is at the very core of each one of us, but when children are added to the family this issue is heightened. Sure, you may be able to limp around with varying degrees of disagreement before you create life, but once you become a parent, your responsibility compounds. You are modeling life to an impressionable one created if not physically by you, certainly born in your heart. Both husband and wife must be on the same page spiritually. I will not perform a wedding if the couple is not in agreement because it is the number one recipe for disaster, and I don't want to be part of a disaster that is known up front.

Yes, there are other topics couples must also agree on ahead of time, but if you go bankrupt and don't share a common faith, where is your peace and comfort going to come from? God is the source of all, first and foremost. Then all the other stuff like career, sex, hobbies, hair color.

2. The Barna group conducted a survey a couple of years ago with startling results. I have served on several church staffs since then and no one but me gets really alarmed. Those who know me hear me talk about this survey all the time. The bottom line is that a child's spiritual foundation is formed by the age of 9. The little girl in the picture is 6. That means there are just three more years to help her form her life's framework through which she will filter everything related to God.

This does not mean that our kids can't learn more, for surely they will if we are doing it right. It just means the filter is set. It doesn't mean that kids whose families do not expose them to faith opportunities are forever penalized in the future... but it does mean that there is more work to do. God will help us with that. But what if we all acted like the first 9 years of a child's life were spiritually essential? What would the church look like if together we all placed children as the number one priority?

So, if the mother is leaving to save her child's spiritual life, she has now involved a family split on top of the next three years of spiritual influence. Both parents have their work cut out for them because the courts are not going to get in the middle of what one defines as their faith. (At least not yet.) Now this little girl will be exposed to not only two different life styles like most children of divorce, her young mind that isn't capable of abstract thinking is up for spiritual grabs. I hope that she has many people in her life praying for her heart. She didn't choose what she got into, but her parents sure did.

Oh, to think ahead and teach our children how to see the world through the eyes of what has eternal value and not the fleeting excitement of today.

Let's Have A Longer School Year

Just the other day I heard that there is some legislative discussion to lengthen the American school year. The reasoning is three-fold: kids in other countries score better, American kids are forgetting too much over the summer and finally, while they are busy forgetting, they are getting fat.

Hmmm.

I think the school DAY is too long, not to mention an entire school YEAR. The school system with its mandated number of days, attendance and hours required is based upon herding large groups of people to and fro, getting their attention and then teaching. As a mom who home schooled both kids for chunks of time, I can attest that we did not need to include classroom transition, getting everyone's attention or ensuring that 27 others also understood something before we proceeded. By eliminating this lost teaching time, and teaching specifically to the personality and strength of each child, we made the most of each day and our school days did not need to be 7 hours long for me to believe "learning" had taken place.

Everyone needs a break from what they are doing so that they can be refreshed. In the past hundred years, American kids get the summer off. Workers look forward to 2 whole weeks off. Presidents golf. I don't fault any of this. When I worked in an office and stared at a computer screen all day I was told to get up every 45 minutes. When I was in college, I pioneered the idea of "taking a break" to an extreme, but the point is real - our brains need a break while assimilating new information.

A break does not mean sitting on the couch eating potato chips for hours, it simply means a break from what you were doing. I have had many little "work starters". The things I do while fully invested in a work project but use to deflect my mind for a bit. I play games and return to the project at hand refreshed and ready to tackle more mental challenges. My current "work starter" favorite is crocheting. While I am "not working" and developing finger callouses from yarn, my mind is tracing and moving in ways not used when I am reading or speaking or on my laptop. When I jump back in, I am crisper and ready to go for another long stretch.

Summer is a time for camps, vacations, jobs if you are old enough, and family. This is all educational. When I was at camp, I learned a craft. On vacation, I learned how to meet other people from around the country. I still refer to the learning experiences of my very first jobs. Everything we do and experience is about learning. Learning is not limited to a school day during a certain month.

And... what about all the things that happen after school? Just because they are not under the umbrella of a school system does not mean these experiences are not educational. Sports, volunteering, music, arts, clubs and yes, even good old play. That thing where you use your imagination - not a controller - and don't wait for something to do the thinking for you. The list goes on and on.

I know people who work 7 hours and get an A. I know people who work 3 hours and get an A. Is the "A" measured by the time it took to get there, or the final product?

The real problem is the American attitude about education, not how long the school year is. If our nation thinks it is about time spent at something "or else", we are too ignorant for our own good and will sit around and get fat, we are missing it. If our nation thinks it is all about competing with other countries so we should be looking over our shoulders and seeing what we can do to catch up, we are really missing it.

What happened to a defined educational plan and instilling the idea that it is an honor to be able to learn? That being educated is not a fill-in-the-blank process with easy answers? That an education is personal and has to be earned? Cheating only works for awhile. Learning how to learn lasts for a lifetime. So, I guess I did just vote to extend the school year...

Can We Go Back In Time?

When my daughter was three years old, she had an ear infection so I got to work from home that day. Rambunctious as usual, it took multiple trips up and down stairs to get this energized child to even think of napping. After about 30 minutes of silence, I tip-toed upstairs to check on my precious child.

As I opened her door, I was horrified to discover that I had left the new Tylenol bottle on her dresser. The childproof cap had not deterred her decision to "help Mommie" and "get better faster" by finishing off its contents. Her happy pink smeared smile greeted me as she clutched her big white teddy bear with the same spills on his face. The bottle of Children's Tylenol sat empty next to her bed.

As I stammered and gathered her into my arms to rush downstairs and call poison control, my eyes swept around the pink bedroom so carefully decorated by me and so fully occupied by my baby girl. Would this be the last time she would be here alive? My mind flipped back through memories of our normal life and clawed to have more, no matter how frustrating. Anything, all of it! I wanted her here with me alive.

We spent hours on the phone back and forth between poison control and her doctor, inducing vomit and praying like crazy. I will never forget that chilling time of waiting where I didn't know if I was still going to get to be a mother with my child living on earth. The cold awareness that there are no guarantees engulfed me like a shroud.

Fast forward... recently a dear family lost their baby boy at just 22 weeks in the womb. Another family lost a one-year old baby just days after a healthy check-up. Another family is down at Mayo Clinic waiting for the doctors to figure out what is poisoning their toddler. On and on the stories go. I think of each of them and ache.

I remember the fleeting moments with my child that chilling day where I wished we could go back in time and get away from this horrible moment of reality. Just one hour would remove the Tylenol scare.

But we can't go back, as much as we would like to especially when the story does not end well. Just one blink of time can change our lives forever.

When I think about this, I become more in awe of how precious time is, and how I do not want to take any of it for granted. We don't need a big trip to Disney World to make an important memory or have a special moment together with our families. The little moments are precious, regardless of what we are doing. And each one we have is a gift of time from God.

What Mom Doesn't Work?

A hot news topic the past few days is the charge that stay-at-home mom Ann Romney "has never worked a day in her life." The message implied was that Ann could thus not have any meaningful input about what is happening economically because she hadn't really done much with her life. The media has jumped on this and all sorts of facts, figures and responses are popping up everywhere.

I am happy that a passing comment has generated so much publicity about motherhood and is bringing attention to both stay-at-home moms and those moms who work outside the home. This is great fodder for a fun discussion over your favorite Starbucks coffee.

For years, conflicting messages have been presented in our North American culture. Throw some church viewpoints in there and it is either a sin for a mom to work outside the home or that moms who do not work outside the home are somehow lesser than those out there "using their brains".

While I was growing up, my mother did not work outside the home. But she was the family project manager, gourmet chef, counselor, girl friend to my father, volunteer, hostess, financier, decorator and friend. She spent hours every day after school assisting my younger brother with his school work and volunteered in the school library. My mom was a vital woman who enjoyed a full life and became a painter and artist. When I was in high school, she began a second career in real estate before anyone's mom was doing it. When I was in college, the "phase II" of her life with grown kids was cut short when she died of cancer.

I have been both a stay-at-home mama and a working mama. When my daughter was young, I had to work and it was very painful to leave her at daycare. I would skip lunch in order to get to her as soon as possible and spend the rest of the evening with my precious lamb. At one point I was able to rearrange my work schedule to get home right when the bus dropped her off at 3:10. For people who know that I am not a morning fan at all, they will gulp to learn I got up at 5:30 every day for her.

When our son was just 18 months old, I became a children's pastor out of passion for children and families. This isn't a job, it is an extension of my soul... but it does mean I was still a working mother. I have been blessed to serve at churches under senior leadership that has allowed me to organize my work schedule around my family. This has allowed me to be there first for my family and be the best children's pastor possible. We have been fortunate that I have had a position and the support that has allowed me to do what I love while loving and being there for my family. When our now nine-foot-tall son was just a preschooler, he used to refer to my office at church as "our office". Ohhh did that make my heart sing and affirmed that he knew his place in my life!

Every stay-at-home mother I have ever had the privilege to know has my complete admiration. Many of them have temporarily retired from high powered positions. All of them dive into their family life with high energy. They work hard to make sure to provide multitudes of experiences and learning opportunities for their children. Some of these moms are also the educators of their kids. Some of these moms send their kids to school. Either way, they all ensure that their children understand what was taught each day. They are creative, on-going learners who are the rudders of their families.

I have been meeting more and more moms who have developed side jobs or hobbies that have become a source of income, all while putting their families first. That means they get less sleep in order to do this after the kids go to bed, or play tag team if there's a dad around to be sure one parent is always there for the kids.

The working moms I have met that do not have the flexibility in the schedules that I have had and are gone during traditional business hours each day really have it tough. That's my humble opinion. They have to look professional earlier in the day while toting kid gear and kids to an early morning daycare, head off to work where they need to focus for x number of consecutive hours. Before they can go straight home, often they are also the parent who picks up the kids from daycare/after school programs. When they come home for the night, they are still needed and responsible for nurturing and encouraging their families.

There is not one woman I have ever met who is "less than" or "more than" any other woman because she does or does not work outside the home. Mothers are awesome! You don't need a paying job to be valued or have important input and insights. And, I'll just throw in there not to compare education or position. A mom is a mom. Yes, at first it may be intimidating to find out the mom sitting next to you is head of the state bar association, or has a Ph. D, but you know what? We are all just humans...and fellow moms. I bet Ann Romney has her finger on the pulse of her areas of expertise just like any other stay-at-home mom. She is worth a listen, just like every mom.

Negative Parenting is Alive and Well

Unfortunately.

This is something that I thought would emerge from those who parented in the 1930s.

Today we have so many more influences, so many more resources to give us input and so many real life examples that show us blaming and shaming does not work. Not only does it not work, it causes so much damage kids end up in counseling... as messed up adults.

So I am asking - were you negatively parented? Are you passing this on to your family? Are you treating other adults in your circle of influence the same fault-finding way you were possibly treated? Check yourself. I hope you are not surprised.

I watch the reruns of the show KING OF QUEENS just because it is on while I am prepping dinner. I really only like the father character played by Jerry Stiller (Ben's papa). The married couple that this show is based on is so negative I wince, although actors Kevin James and Leah Remini nail their parts and I appreciate their acting. It's just that they do their negativity so well, I can't relax while watching this comedy.

As an easily distracted follower of a butterfly, I cannot believe it would be fun to be a negative person. Yet I run into these adult types more frequently than I would like. These people seem to embrace their demeanor and are unaware of the wide wake they leave behind. They are parents and employers and volunteers and just plain people walking the earth.

I just can't believe that any young parent would have a goal to produce a negative person that would in turn harm others. But by not taking action, or by not taking the time to explain -- that is what will happen. Worse yet, by teaching a child that their feelings rule the universe, they empower and inadvertently train a child in the same way.

Then of course we find the adult children of these meanies who pass on the same negativity just because they think they are removed from their parental shackles. Only to find out that they have become the parent they so despised.

How much better to live for truth all along! To teach forgiveness and encourage a hope for a better future.

I for one do not need to experience one more person who has not dealt with their past and is passing it on to other unfortunates that cross their paths.

We've all had bad days. Let's be sure it stays with us and some careful sharing of trusted friends. I don't want to mess up anyone else's life with my stuff, and that includes my kids first and foremost.

Reborn Babies

A variety of media outlets are airing stories this week about the new phenomenon of frighteningly life-like baby dolls that adult women are not only purchasing, they are collecting. These dolls, called Reborn Babies are priced well beyond your basic toy doll, some upwards of $1K. Because these dolls are life-sized, you can purchase all kinds of gear to keep it real. That way, you can care for your doll as if she were a real baby. Some even have birth dates, birth weights and adoption certificates. You can even have a custom made baby if money is no object. A few minutes on Google reveals an expensive hobby with fans, deals and adoptions. If you are lucky, you can even find one on eBay and of course you can find new friends on social media to share your passion.

The interview I saw yesterday on TV showed a woman who keeps a complete nursery in her home for her dolls. Another woman was filmed wearing her baby in a front pack and thrilled when strangers complimented her. One women proudly told the camera that she had over 30 of these dolls ranging in ages up to toddler-size.

What is the reason behind this expensive new movement? The interviews culled information bits from the women like relaxation, replacement and even just having the need to hold a baby again. These people are sincerely "collecting" and caring for their reborns as if they were real. They get fulfillment from holding the dolls. It is clear that a lot of time and money goes into their babies.

Scratch my head. All I thought about after first agreeing the dolls are incredibly well done is how much disposable income ladies were spending to parent the reborns. What could be done for others with this hefty chunk of change? What real life need could be met instead? My next thought was about how much time was devoted to caring about the dolls. How many church nurseries could use loving arms of adults holding real babies during church services? How many church toddler classes would welcome the participation of teachers who care about this age group? How many people in the community need some time from someone to help them with their real-life children?

I am not condemning the dolls or the purchasers. I am just wondering what would happen if the same dollars and energies were put into real-life human beings, what would the world look like? What real things could we accomplish for those in need?

What Do You Want to Be?

Remember Vanilla Ice? The most successful rapper in the 90's? "Ice, ice baby..."

Vanilla Ice, AKA Rob did not disappear. In addition to his musical talent, he developed other skills and is now so good at house reno, he has a show on HGTV. He drives a Rolls, has tattoos covering most of his body, continues to perform but has also developed skills in home renovation. He his also a doting father. I respect this man.

He is my current role model for coaching kids on "what to be" when they grow up.

Actually, I hate it when people ask children this question! Why pin them down? Statistically, they will have at least five different careers.

What if we ask them what they would like to do first? That's how I guided our girl in her college and course selection. What if we encouraged our kids to develop a hobby that could also become a source of income, not to mention pleasure? (I sure wish I had learned to do something like Rob has done.) What if up front, we gave our kids loving permission to explore their options to contribute rather than pin them down to one thing?

And regarding that one big thing, even someone like Vanilla Ice did not invest his entire entity there. He kept growing and learning. How fun is that? See why he inspires me? He hasn't stopped, and I haven't either. I just don't have a TV show...

Anger Management

Just the other day, while driving and making a legal right turn onto a 2-lane road, a woman made a U-turn from the opposite direction, cutting across the two lanes in order to be in front of me. This all happened rather quickly and I remember her angry face yelling at me from within the confines of her vehicle. Not only did she yell and glare, just as soon as she cut across the lanes, she swerved into a bank entrance. Bam! I'm glad I was awake or else.

I blinked and thought "Woa, she's one angry person" and continued on the way to my hair appointment.

Ever since this happened, I've been thinking about anger and the damage it can do when adults act out in front of kids. But what about when kids are mad? How can we help them work through it in a healthy way?

When my girl was 8, I married my current (and last) husband. He did things foreign to her like read with her, ask about homework, insist on seat belts and respecting the family by doing chores. Her birth father had been completely detached. She had never experienced what a father's hands-on care was like. After a few months, she was acting out in uncharacteristic ways.

So one Sunday, the three of us had a pow-wow. We sat around the dining room table, blew up a balloon and had her draw her birth-father's face on it. Then we lovingly asked her if she was mad at him. Yes. Since he had died, she could no longer speak to him, so we told her she could speak to the balloon as if it was him. Choking back tears, she yelled and stammered at the man who had so let her down. How could he have cared so little? We were all wiping away tears. After she felt she got it all out, we had a great discussion and release time. We closed with prayer and she got to pop the balloon.

Don't ask me where I got that idea, I know. It had to be from God. This next idea came from a dear assistant when our 5-year old son was so angry that his favorite friend was moving away he was acting out all over the place.

My assistant - a devoted grandmama - gave me the perfect idea for our active boy! She told me to take him to the lake and encourage him to pick up rocks and as he tossed them into the lake, yell out what part of his anger that represented.

So, off we went to the lake. Before we started, I told him we knew how upset he was and that by throwing rocks, he could give his hurt and anger to God. Each time he picked one up, he told me what it was for and then hurled it into the lake. We stayed there throwing rocks until he had nothing more to say and just wanted to throw rocks, period.

With both of these situations, we sat and prayed. We thanked God for caring about thoughts and feelings, and for taking away what hurts.

Kids are concrete thinkers, and this was a great way for them to deal with their emotions in a literal way. Both times, I cried with them, held them and when we were done, told them how brave they were and how much God loved them. Both times, that anger was truly gone.

Sometimes a counselor is necessary, sometimes we just need to enter their world and offer assistance.

Through the Eyes of a Child

A few weeks ago, I walked into the Toddler class one Sunday to greet everyone, as I usually do. One of the sweetest little girls held up her sandals and eagerly showed me her treasure. The look on her face was truly priceless. I found out from her mother that she was excited to be wearing her "new shoes" on such a surprisingly warm late winter day. Additionally, I learned that in daycare, children must wear closed-toed shoes and socks. These sandals were a big deal in this toddler's life. Seeing her rejoice in the simplest thing just made my day.

When I was in college, I had a part-time job at a home for mentally challenged men and women. There, I learned to erase the minutiae of life's angst from an 18-year-old's mind and appreciate their lives. Everything was scheduled. Monthly haircuts. Weekly baths. Daily meals. Bi-monthly bus rides. Semi-annual shots. Nothing "special", yet I saw each resident look forward to the routine in their lives and value seemingly mundane activities with utter joy. These precious people taught me to appreciate the simplest details in my life. I still smile fondly remembering gleeful applause at "haircut day".

Some of my most heart-felt memories with my kids when they were younger was the excitement to wear a new pair of rain boots (my girl) or use their very own umbrella (my son... try that while living in sunny California!) There was also that new coat or lunchbox, a special field trip and of course the all-important Sharing Day.

These things were all more important to them than the big trips or gifts. Details that could so easily be looked over. Unless we look through the bright and eager eyes of a child.

Extreme Kid Pampering

One day when I turned on the TV for whatever reason it was set to the “Tyra Banks Show.” Don’t know how or why but before I could click over to an “Everybody Loves Ray” rerun, I learned that her topic was Americans pampering their pre-teens to the tune of 20 million a year!

We’re talking facials, massages, pedi’s and mani’s. There are even chains of stores now marketing to parents who want “the best” for their children! Transfixed, I watched in dismay as Tyra Banks interviewed half a dozen proud parents for this episode. Some actually spent over $80K/year on pampering in order to keep their kids “happy”! The pampering began as early as age 2 and these groomed kids used their limited vocabularies to state how much they liked going to the kid spa because it was “fun” and “nice”.

ACK!

Producing a happy child was the goal for each parent. A delighted and well-manicured child sat next to the bragging parent bobbing their head in agreement that they wanted to look good. No child was over the age of 11. All were glad to be on TV.

Did I mention how many middle class annual incomes these well to do families wasted in the interest of giving their children the “physical advantage” of appearance?? One mother bragged that she would not let her 6 year old out of the house with chipped nail polish b/c it would reflect her poor parenting. She even taught her 9 year old son to deserve massages and opened her own kiddie spa because she saw the need.

ACK AGAIN!

What has happened to instilling value in what our children contribute to society? And in these economic times, to see so many adults cavalierly spending more that our family earns just so the kids look and feel good is beyond me.

When these pampered kids reach adult land, will they ever own their own behaviors? Will they ever care about the needs of others beyond self?

This is a perfect example of the immense responsibility a parent has to lay a foundation that will impact multitudes of generations.

Please don’t focus on the fleeting externals…

Teaching Children to Pray

One of the most important things we can do as adults or youth investing in the lives of children is to teach them how to pray. We are not always with them, as much as we think we are, or that they are being properly supervised. We certainly do not know how they are processing an experience. If we can teach them to talk and listen to God, they will be able to receive peace and comfort precisely when they need it.

Growing up, we recited a generationally mutilated Norwegian prayer before meals. It had gotten so mispronounced by my ancestors that by the time I was in college and some Norwegian exchange students heard us “pray”, they looked blankly at us. We had not learned to thank God for his provision and truly mean it.

On Sharing Day in Kindergarten, I brought my big teddy bear. He became my tearful comfort on the bus ride home when I failed to get off at my stop and spent hours cowering in the bus thinking I would never see my family again. How wonderful if I had already understood that I could truly talk to God and share my fears?

A few years ago I was encouraging an adult relative to pray about something. He scoffed that he didn’t bother God with small stuff. I told him I even prayed for new underwear.

The picture above is used by permission from the four Kindergarten families. The Sunday School teacher had just asked the class to pray. Look at the different responses. Just before I took the picture, the boy lifting his shirt had briefly bowed his head and then kept on moving. Four different boys, four different reactions, four different prayers – each one as valuable as the next. That’s why I treasure this picture.

We are all so different, and each one of us is cherished by God as if we were his one and only child. Our temperaments and characters matter. Our thoughts and feelings matter. When I teach children to pray, I try to communicate this. There is no one “correct” way to pray. I was once asked by a fellow Bible study participant if the prayers I prayed while driving counted – because I could not shut my eyes.

Prayer is simply talking and listening to God. For young children, they start by learning to talk. They address God, say something, then end it. I keep it very short. “Dear God, thank you for the rain, amen.” “Dear God, please help my brother, amen.” “Dear God, I love you, amen.” Amen simply means “so be it”. So kids could actually say “Dear God, thank you for loving us, so be it.”

A great thing to teach kids about praying is to pray God’s Word right back to him. That way they learn to memorize Bible verses. They can say these verses any time they want. I taught my girl to memorize verses beginning at the age of two. She could learn them faster than me! I also taught her what they meant, so she was not merely reciting words. During a traumatic divorce and under great fear while spending court-ordered time with her birth father, she recited Psalm 37:4 over and over one night until she fell asleep.

As our kids grow, they can learn the listening part of prayer. How it takes many forms. Sometimes all I can say is “God help”. They can learn to sing, write or dance their prayers and that it is all called Worship. They can learn how important it is to pray for others we don’t even know. (That will be another blog.) But for now, if they can learn some simple thank-yous and requests, they are on their way.

By modeling simple prayer, our children can learn that prayer is one way we connect with God. It is not about us. It is not about the longest words or the poetic voice. It is not a lecture. It is between us and God. It can be out loud. It can be silent. There is nothing God doesn’t want to hear about from us. If he loves every hair on our head, he cares about our underwear, too.

So be it.

My Goal is NOT to Have Happy Kids

What??!

Seriously, I really don't care if my kids are "happy". In fact there is not one thing I have done with the intention to "make them happy."

Camps, sports, movies, concerts, gifts, trips, haircuts, laundry... none of this has ever been done to make my children happy. Everything I have done and continue to do has been to create experiences or provide care so that they can continue to develop their own personalities. When boundaries have been necessary to implement (aka consequences), their "happiness" was not an issue. The issue was to provide guidelines so that our kids would bump their noses into things and learn from experience.

If I lived to make my kids happy, I would be chasing my tail and attempting to please them. Even ask their permission! I have personal experience with parents asking their children if they really wanted to go to their grandparent's 60th wedding anniversary. Or, how about this one: bailing their kid out of jail for drunken driving and not being disappointed! (More on this in a dedicated blog later.)

Do we really need to see a smile every second of every day? Does a smile signify happiness, anyway? Wouldn't it be more significant to provide loving guidance and patiently delivered consequences as our kids grow? And... shouldn't our kids learn how true "happiness" is an internal choice after all? And... for sure that their moods do not control the family vibe?

Today in the church toddler room, a sweetheart was sobbing for her parents. She was just 23 months old. We let kids cry for 10 minutes before getting a parent, and she was on minute 7. It was time to read the story to the class and she was still crying. I said "Honey, we are going to listen to the story right now, so we need you to stop crying. When the story is over, you can go back to crying if you like, but right now it is story time." She paused, walked over and listened to the story and never did resume her crying.

Did I care that she was happy? No. Did I care that she could comfort herself? Yes. I am so glad we did not reach the 10 minute rule because she was not "happy" based on our responses. She began to learn that her mood was managed from within, while being kept safe by encouraging adults.

Not Invited

Have you ever been standing next to an acquaintance chatting when someone walks up and starts talking about the thing they are going to do and you realize you are not invited? Either that, or they start talking about the other thing from last night and once again you realize you weren't there...because you weren't invited?

Most schools have a wonderful policy about sending birthday party invitations to school. They tell you that unless everyone is invited, please do not use the classroom as a distribution center. Too bad there is no way to enforce this!

When our son was in kindergarten, one mid-December day he spent the entire ride home wondering why he saw Bobby passing out party invitations to most of the boys in class, just not him. Mind you, at this point we were dealing with a boatload of his ADHD stuff. That being said, our son was kind hearted and well meaning. Just not understood well outside our family at the time.

As a fierce Mommie, hearing that our son had been hurt stabbed my heart. How could another parent be so callous? These are Kindergarteners! As our son asked and chatted as much as a child that age could do, I realized how much he had been hurt. He usually cared more about the snack in the car or listening to his music. I had to pay attention, and I did.

Carefully, I let our boy know that what happened was not fair. It was sad that Bobby's parents sent the invitations to school where uninvited kids could see them being passed out. The rule was that you only did that if everyone was included. Otherwise you mailed them out. Why wasn't he included? We don't know, but it is hurtful. I told him I was sorry that he wasn't invited, especially because he thought the birthday boy was his friend.

After a few more "reflective commiserations", I asked what he would do if he was having a party.

"I'd invite everyone who wasn't invited to the other party," came his stoic reply.

To Emote or Not?

One of the most frequently voiced concerns I hear from parents centers on how much emotion our kids should see. Should we cry in front of our kids? Should we mask our grief or worries? Shouldn't we protect our children from our tears and fears?

If we check out the Bible, God says a few things about the role of parents. He also includes illustrations of family scenarios - many that did not turn out well for future generations. But we know He values parents and even includes the respect for parents in his top ten list. We know He desires us to teach and train. We know He desires that each one choose to follow His Way. So, does that mean we do all of this with a fake smile?

I don't think so. Since the Bible includes so many family stories that did not turn out well, yet everyone was used for God's ultimate purpose, I believe that God wants us to be real in our everyday lives. Tempered. If we mask and hide our emotions completely, our children will not know how to manage their own feelings and reactions. They won't be prepared to be a fully functioning autonomous adult, and that's sure my goal.

This does not mean I will overshare or burden my kids, either. I grew up with a worried mother who over-shared with me, which created anxiety in me. With some kids, this can make them think they need to be the one to fix things. I've had friends whose parents never batted an eye in front of them when they were kids. (Yes, they rebelled like crazy later on.)I've known people who have had to tip-toe around a parental mood, or have grown up far too young to parent the siblings because of what was going on. These stories are all too common.

What if there is a death or divorce or other major loss? How should we act?

Kids know and sense more than they are given credit for, so I think they should be respected and let in on what's going on emotionally to certain degrees. It's okay if they see mommy crying one afternoon. "Mommy is so sad right now because she misses Grandma. Please come give me a hug." As long as the tears are not all day from bed for season after season, kids will learn that even parents have feelings.

We can let our kids know why we are sad, and then even pray with them. "We miss the baby that was in Mommy's tummy but know she is with Jesus." "It hurts so bad that we cannot keep our house, but we trust God to show us the way." Here's something I said often to my five year old during a hard divorce: "Oh, Daddy said that? I'm so sorry. Let's pray that he sees how much Jesus loves him."

I even think it is okay to be carefully honest. "Daddy wanted to be with other ladies." All delivered age-appropriately. We are here to help our kids develop a framework for the tough stuff in life, so we must be responsible with how we speak. I've seen parents demand understanding from their kids. "My back has hurt for months and YOU BETTER leave me alone right now!!" I've seen parents keep their own pain going as its own entity. One weeping woman I met at a retreat was sobbing and sobbing because of her divorce. Trying to comfort her, I asked her how long she had been divorced. Through a flood of new tears she stammered "Seven years."

While I think we should show our pain (carefully), our kids also need to see us get it back together. The younger the kid, the more important that is. Remember, one day in their little lives is full and extended. A teen can let you regroup for a day or two, but no one will handle on-going mourning. They also need us to point back to our trust in God during a difficult time. They will remember this when they are adults...or parents.

I do not have memories of parents handling grief well. At least not modeling anything for me. Lots of outbursts, shut doors and no discussion. My husband lost a brother and sister in a tragic accident when he was in eighth grade and no one ever said a thing to each other, much less held each other and cried. We've dealt with our family grief more openly. The last thing I want is for a child to stuff emotion and nurse bitterness or anxiety.

Insofar as I have been aware, I have kept it balanced and real without destroying our kids' security.

Quite the delicate balance.

"Let the little children come unto me... but don't let them take up too many seats"

It breaks my heart when I hear about church leaders who don’t want children in the service because they take up too many seats or distract by making too much noise or because they might not sit still. My heart breaks further when the reason behind it appears to be a babysitting request and has nothing to do with ministering to children and families and they think that's all that happens in children's classes. ACK!

So what is the intent of Sunday School or “Children’s Ministry”? Is it merely for the convenience of adults to dump off noisy/wiggly/bored ones so that they can focus on “big church”? Or…is it an exciting place where life-changing messages are communicated at age-appropriate levels and children are valued with a capital “V”?

The North American church needs a kid chiropractic adjustment... With fourteen years in ministry to children and families and connections with hundreds of churches, I have continually seen the struggle between management views about what should happen in “big church” and the value placed on ministry to children. Sadly, the investment in children has not always matched the emphasis on other areas. One church dumped most of its budget on adults, another on musical productions. On the other hand, I have met people who serve at churches where kids are the absolute number one focus. One church got the fire and turned several thousand people to be there just for kids 18 and under and told everyone they were there to invest in the future!

If you put a gun to my temple, I’d say that many quality leaders do not understand or appreciate what it means to truly minister to children... and therefore, their families. People worthy of respect in many areas. Recently, I saw an interview with a leader of the largest mega-church in America and he referred to everything they do as “child care”. I screamed (internally). Child care is babysitting! Even the words imply distance – nothing intentional. Church should be the last place where anyone thinks about babysitting. Shouldn't we go there and feel invested in?

When will people embrace that what happens on Sundays in kids classes is every bit as essential as what happens for adults? In kids classes, we are not merely “watching children” so that something more important can happen with the adults. We are investing in eternity and loving kids. Not one of the hundreds of volunteers that I have worked with has simply thrown some Cheerios on the table and backed off by popping in a DVD. (Yes, I was once blessed to be on staff at one church where I was privileged to have over 400 volunteers just for children. Not counting VBS, MOPS or kids clubs.)

Children’s teachers and helpers spend hours praying, studying and preparing for their one hour each week. They take their roles seriously. Our prayer is that some spark goes home that inspires families the other 167 hours of real life. A book that rocked my heart and formed my ministry philosophy is by George Barna, Transforming Children Into Spiritual Champions. Read it and be as chilled as I was to find out a child’s entire spiritual life foundation is formed by age 9. Barna encourages all churches to emphasize ministry to children as the foundation for what happens next.

Just the other day, I received an e-mail from a concerned kindergarten teacher who wanted to be sure that she taught a lesson on faith in a way that would not impair her class’s understanding of how God moves. She did not want one child thinking that if they prayed to heal Grandma and Grandma did not get well that faith was not real... much less God.

YES, big topics are being covered at very young ages by adults and youth who love kids. What goes on in kids classes down the hall is not known by the greeters, adult leaders or even those sitting in the chairs. But they should know. Even if they don’t have kids, or don’t have kids Sunday-school ages.

One of the best ways to grow closer to God is to teach a kid’s class. The materials equip the leaders, and in so doing, bless and infuse them. I have never heard an adult or youth leader tell me that by teaching kids, they felt weaker in their faith. Rather, people have come to me overcome by what they did not know and what they learned, and how God blessed them with the kids.

No wonder Jesus told His followers to value kids...and be like them...

Amen!