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Crying it Out

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“Mom, did you let any of us cry it out when we were young?”

There it was, a child to parent question, that can zip my lips faster than crazy glue.

It’s not the only one. There is also,

  • “did you have drug-free childbirth?”
  • “did you breastfeed all of your babies until they were one year (or two, or six)?
  • “how do you feel about circumcision?”
  • “did your kids watch TV as preschoolers?”
  • “did you get your kids immunized?”

My daughter’s question was a fair one, a reasonable one, after all she is a Psychology student, and numerous psychological theories deal with issues of nurture and attachment. But, I was not ready to talk about such theories … I am still, and may always, be living the motherly existence of being chased down by momma guilt.

Momma guilt is a most powerful, dark and destructive force. It can erase the ten good things a mother does with one newspaper article, one crime drama, one conversation with a mom who ‘did it all right’ and is currently wearing the coveted mother-of-the-year crown on her perfectly coiffed hair.

I wrote about Momma Guilt a couple of years ago, especially in regard to those perfect TV moms, that so many of us grew up with.

But, the TV moms of the past have been replaced by the scientific study, or the psychological theory about development and attachment (or the mom next door), and they are so convincing with their charts, their studies and their scientific process.

But what they tell us (and I still keep needing to remind myself) is what they know from their studies, their theories and their observations … today. The results tomorrow might just be different, they might point us to a very different direction.

They are also only telling us one side of the child nurture and rearing process … that of the child, not taking other circumstances into account, such as physical or mental health of the mother, familial circumstances and support (including the role of the daddy), family or cultural history.

The difficulty with being a mom is that no matter what investment we make into the lives of our children, we will indeed make mistakes, and some of them will be whoppers! We will say things, do things and make decisions that will result life-long effects in how our children see themselves, others and their place in this world. We will hurt them, we will make decisions that leave them deficit in areas, we will over-do things that will leave them ‘damaged.’

And, if that is all we consider about our roles as mothers, we will have enough momma guilt to carry our bodies six feet down.

But …

we do what we do, as moms,

with the greatest of intent.

with the most deep desire for success of our children.

with an immeasurable amount of love.

and we know, from the moment that we hold that perfect personification of our heart’s beat, that we simply are not qualified to do justice to our child.

but, that does not stop us from putting more effort into the task,

than we put into any other in our lifetimes.

Today, my three earthly children are speaking to me

each one has hugged, or been hugged by me

I am satisfied to say that today … just today, I am a successful mom,

no momma guilt needed.

And my answer to “Mom, did you let any of us cry it out when we were young?”

“I’ll let you know later … when you are a mom.”

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“Hello, my name is Carole, and I like to avoid the dark of night … of life.”

So, I had a guest post all prepared and scheduled for today … and then Wednesday happened.

If you have read my Sunday guest posts for awhile, you will know that I quite like the writing of Ann Voskamp, over at A Holy Experience, and this past Wednesday was pure delight.

Ann introduces us to a delightful, plain, unassuming man … one who does not stand out like a spotlight … but one who most certainly resembles a nightlight. One who does not let the dark stop him … but one who keeps running through the dark of night.

This guy does not avoid the dark of night … he runs right through it!

Here is his story (How to get Through the Dark Places), told through the soul-whisperer herself, Ann Voskamp :

“The old cahoot ran in his boots.

Weren’t too many of anybody who believed he could.

The kids and I read about the old guy one night after supper and the dishwasher’s moaning away, crumbs still across the counter.

How the old guy ran for 544 miles. His name was Cliff Young and he wasn’t so much. He was 61 years old. He was a farmer. Levi grins big.

Mr. Young showed up for the race in his Osh Kosh overalls and with his work boots on, with galoshes over top. In case it rained.

He had no Nike sponsorship.

He had no wife – hadn’t had one ever.

Lived with his mother. Never drank. Never ran in any kind of race before. Never ran a 5 mile race, or a half-marathon, not even a marathon.

But here he was standing in his work boots at the starting line of an ultra-marathon, the most grueling marathon in the world, a 544 mile marathon.

Try wrapping your head around pounding the concrete with one foot after another for 544 endless, stretching miles. They don’t measure races like that in yards – -but in zip codes.

First thing Cliff did was take out his teeth.

Said his false teeth rattled when he ran.

Said he grew up on a farm with sheep and no four wheelers, no horses, so the only way to round up sheep was on the run. Sometimes the best training for the really big things is just the everyday things.

That’s what Cliff said: “Whenever the storms would roll in, I’d have to go run and round up the sheep.” 2,000 head of sheep. 2,000 acres of land.

“Sometimes I’d have to run those sheep for two or three days. I can run this race; it’s only two more days. Five days. I’ve run sheep for three.”

“Got any backers?” Reporters shoved their microphones around old Cliff like a spike belt.

“No….” Cliff slipped his hands into his overall pockets.

“Then you can’t run.”

Cliff looked down at his boots. Does man need backers or does a man need to believe? What you believe is the biggest backer you’ll ever have.

The other runners, all under a buffed 30 years of age, they take off like pumped shots from that starting line. And scruffy old Cliff staggers forward. He doesn’t run. Shuffles, more like it. Straight back. Arms dangling. Feet awkwardly shuffling along.

Cliff eats dust.

For 18 hours, the racers blow down the road, far down the road, and old Cliff shuffles on behind.

Come the pitch black of night, the runners in their $400 ergonomic Nikes and Adidas, lay down by the roadside, because that’s the plan to win an ultra-marathon, to run 544 straight miles: 18 hours of running, 6 hours of sleeping, rinse and repeat for 5 days, 6 days, 7 days.

The dark falls in. Runners sleep. Cameras get turned off. Reporters go to bed.

And through the black night, one 61-year-old man far behind keeps shuffling on.

And all I can think is:

The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

The light shineth in the darkness, but the darkness comprehendeth it not.

καταλαμβάνω Katalambanō – Comprehend. Understand. Master.

Cliff Young runs on through the night and there is a Light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not master it.

The darkness doesn’t understand the light, doesn’t comprehend the light, doesn’t get the light, doesn’t overcome the light, doesn’t master the light.

Darkness doesn’t have anything on light, on hope, on faith.

The darkness that sucks at the prodigal kid doesn’t have anything on the light of his mother’s prayers.

The black of pornography that threatens at the edges doesn’t master the blazing light of Jesus at the center.

The pit of depression that plunges deep doesn’t go deeper than the love of your Jesus and there is no place His light won’t go to find you, to save you, to hold you.

That low lying storm cloud that hangs over you can’t master the light of Christ that raises you.

Darkness can’t drive out darkness. Only light can do that,” Martin Luther King had said it, had lived it.

Only words of Light can drive out worlds of dark.
Only deeds of Light can drive out depths of dark.
Only lives of Light can drive out lies of dark.

Darkness can never travel as fast as Light. No matter how bad things get, no matter how black the dark seeps in, no matter the depths of the night — the dark can never travel as fast as Light. The Light is always there first, waiting to shatter the dark.

You can always hold His Word like a ball of light right there your hand, right up there next to your warming heart.

You can always count on it: Jesus is bendable Light, warmth around every unexpected corner.

Cliff Young runs on through the dark — because he didn’t know you were supposed to stop.

The accepted way professional runners approached the race was to run 18 hours, sleep 6, for7 days straight. But Cliff Young didn’t know that. He didn’t know the accepted way. He only knew what he did regularly back home, the way he had always done it: You run through the dark.

Turns out when Cliff Young said he gathered sheep around his farm for three days, he meant he’d run across 2,000 acres of farmland for three days straight without stopping or sleeping, without the dark ever stopping him. You gathered sheep by running through the dark.

So along the endless stretches of highway, a tiny shadow of an old man shuffled along, one foot after another, right through the heat, right through the night. Cliff gained ground.

Cliff gained ground because he didn’t lose ground to the dark. Cliff gained ground because he ran through the dark.

And somewhere at the outset of the night, Cliff Young in his overalls, he shuffled passed the toned runners half his age. And by the morning light, teethless Cliff Young who wasn’t young at all, he was a tiny shadow — far, far ahead of the professional athletes.

For five days, fifteen hours, and four minutes straight, Cliff Young ran, never once stopping for the dark – never stopping until the old sheep farmer crossed the finish line – First. He crossed the finish line first. Beating a world record. By two. whole. days.

The second place runner crossed the finish line 9 hours after old Cliff.

And when they handed old Cliff Young his $10,000 prize , he said he hadn’t known there was a prize. Said he’d run for the wonder of it. Said that all the other runners had worked hard too. So Cliff Young waited at the finish line and handed each of the runners an equal share of the 10K.

And then the old cahoot in boots walked a way without a penny for the race but with all the hearts of whole world.

While others run fast, you can just shuffle with perseverance.
While others impress, you can simply press on.
While others stop for the dark, you can run through the dark.

The race is won by those who keep running through the dark.

Could be the year to pull a Cliff Young. 

When those reporters asked Old Cliff that afterward, what had kept him running through the nights, Cliff had said, “I imagined I was outrunning a storm to gather up my sheep.”

And I sit there in the thickening dark.

With the One who mastered the dark and overcame the storm to gather His sheep and now there is a Light Who shines in the darkness and the darkness can never overcome it.

And you can see them out the front window, far away to the west, out on there the highway —

the lights all going on through the dark.”

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Well folks, it is just eleven more months until Christmas … done your shopping yet?

I am!

NOT!

Now that was False Boasting, and that is exactly the name of the most viewed post of this week. It is a post about how we tend to advertise falsely about our lives, and what we should really be boasting about.

Also this week were :

Life
(be careful in looking forward that we do not wish our one life away)

Got a Dementor in Your Life
(what is sucking the life from you today?)

Choices > Abilities
(sometimes success comes not from our abilities, but our choices)

Friday, Where Have You Been All Week?
(a little something to bless you this day)

Blessings to you this day,
Carole

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It is so satisfying to awaken on Friday morning, knowing that it is the end of the week of schedules, the beginning of the weekend of rest, or fun, or refreshment (not if you have kids in soccer, basketball, or hockey … but, stick with me).

I think I really love Friday even more than Saturday, because Friday is the day of anticipation, the day of looking forward.

As I awaken this Friday morning, after delighting in the day that it is, I will mentally run through my day … mostly to anticipate what I might have forgotten (and that is the stage of life I am at). I will look at each wild and wonderful step of my day with more joy than I might on a Monday morning, feeling confident that it will be a great and successful day. I will hop, skip and jump my way through the morning preparations, believing that :

it is Friday … I can do anything

Sometimes, because I am living my Friday like a person on speed, unexpected things happen, undesirable things happen … and my joy crown starts to tarnish. The thrill of :

it is Friday … I can do anything

begins to cloud over in disappointment.

Some days I just need to keep my focus!

So, today, I share with you a little prayer, a blessing to start your day … to help you keep focus on the joy that is not dependent on things going your (or my) way.

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A few days ago I shared (Got a Dementor in Your Life?) that I had been learning all about Harry Potter, from my son who is loving his new-found adventure series. Well I am back to Hogwarts again, after watching The Chamber of Secrets movie the other evening.

The quote, above, spoken by the wise and kind Dumbledore (the name does not sound so wise) grabbed my attention, I was furiously jotting it down, when I heard it, so I would not forget (that is the stage I am currently living).

When I first heard it I thought …

ahhhh!

In a world where we are valued, promoted and given higher pay for our credentials, experience and strengths this quote immediately took me to an example of choice over ability in the Bible.

In Exodus, the story of God calling Moses into a position that required, not Moses’ abilities, but his choice to say yes.

In Exodus 3-4 the story of God speaking to Moses through a burning bush is told. God wants Moses to step up and lead the Israelite people … his people, from their bondage and slavery in Egypt.

“Then Moses said to the Lord, “But, Lord, I am telling you, I am not a good speaker. I have never been able to speak well. And that hasn’t changed since you started talking to me. I am still not a good speaker. You know that I speak slowly and don’t use the best words” … Moses said, “My Lord, I beg you to send someone else, not me.” (4:10, 13)

Ever said something similar? To God, or to another person? Something along the lines of “oh, I just couldn’t do that … I don’t have that skill, or gift, or enough education, or enough experience?”

God offers to send Aaron along with him as his personal assistant!

This is where Moses had received and offer that he simply could not refuse!

And he CHOSE to accept the job, fully aware that his choice was one made in faith, not made from the strength of his abilities.

Moses chose to move his family to Egypt, went to find Aaron, and they met the Israelite elders, Aaron speaking and Moses performing the miracles God had shown them. The Israelite people knew that Yehweh had sent them, and that their time of suffering was coming to an end.

Moses was successful because he CHOSE to obey, CHOSE to trust, CHOSE to have faith that God would do all that he said he would …

… no ability required.

 

 

 

 

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I love having my son in my life.

He and I share some of the coolest debates about action heros (Marvel or DC comics?). He most strongly shares my love of the Narnia stories. We go to all of the action hero movies (Avengers is one of my favorite movies of all time). And, through him, I have experienced the Hobbit for the first time.

Thankfully hubby really isn’t into such frivolous modes of entertainment, so I do not have to share our son in this area.

Lately, my man-child has been enjoying Harry Potter.

I had only read the first book in the series with my eldest daughter when she was young (as a lover of Disney princesses, she had no time for the Harry Potter series).

Regularly I get updates on the storyline, the characters, and the excitement … I do a significant amount of SNA …

smile … nod … agree

I often feel the glazed look come over my face, and pray that I might be able to maintain enough interest to ask appropriate questions, so as to ensure that my precious child know that I love him enough to stay interested in his interests.

The other night the fog lifted and my attention was fully his as he described to me a dementor. According to my man-child a dementor is:

“a non-being that reaps the souls of the living, of happiness, creating much fear and terror and sadness in the minds of the livings bringing them to their darkest memories … they pretty much make you live in your darkest nightmares.”

It really pretty much describes the shortened days of winter for me.

For someone else the dementor might be the process of divorce.

For someone else the dementor might be their present job.

For someone else the dementor might be the mourning of a loved one.

For someone else the dementor might be a struggling relationship.

For someone else the dementor might be a time of illness.

For someone else the dementor might be financial difficulties.

For someone else the dementor might be depression.

For someone else the dementor might me ….. (fill in the blank).

Whatever it might be, at some point in the lives of all, we are faced with a dementor … one “that reaps the souls of the living, of happiness, creating much fear and terror and sadness.”

The dementor reminds me of what Jesus called the thief, in John 10:10, “the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

That thief is the dementor of all dementors, the destroyer of all destroyers, the biggest soul-sucker of them all, the Prince of darkness. It is he who sucks the life from us.

Life … the most miraculous gift of all. Through living we uncover our passions, and put them to their best use. Through living we commune with our Creator. Through living we experience joy.

But, Jesus also encourages us, in John 16:22, “now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

Hope for this day!

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Did you know that there are only three more days until the weekend (that’s only two more sleeps)? seven more weeks until Spring Break? two more months until the first day of spring? five more months until the first day of summer (and summer break to follow just days later)?

I am rather famous in my circles for knowing such facts 😉

I love to look ahead. To anticipate the desired, the hopeful, the change. For me, these countdowns are a bit of a survival tactic for living in the Pacific Northwest, where the seasons are locally (okay, not locally, but personally) known as monsoon season, followed by three months of beautiful, perfect summer (aka. July, August and September).

Every once in a while, I am reminded of a tale of a young, impatient boy whose desire to skip ahead in life had dire consequences.

The tale is told of a bright, but daydreamer of a young boy (my guess is he may have been able to be diagnosed as having ADD). One day he meets an old woman and he tells her of his boredom, and how he wished he could hurry up and grow up, and do the things that he just knew would make him successful and happy.

The old woman gives him a ball with a golden cord. She says that whenever he would like to skip to the next stage of life, he just needed to tug on the cord, and time would pass in an instant (sounds pretty good on a Monday morning).

The boy tugged on it and he was magically dating the pretty girl in school.

Then he tugged again, so that they were both old enough for him to propose to her.

As the time of engagement became stressful, he tugged again, and they were married.

Then they were expecting a baby, but the waiting was so long, so he tugged again, and the baby was born.

The baby was delightful, but whenever she was sick or cried late into the night, he would tug again.

Despite the face that he kept promising that he would use more restraint next time, he used it through every big and small difficulty, stress or whenever tugging on the string made his immediate life easier. This continued through every stage of his life, until the now middle-aged man realized that his mother had died, his children all moved out and away, and his beloved wife very sick.

He felt great regret for how his regular tugs caused his life to fast forward.

Then, one day, he met up with the old woman who had given the ball with the golden cord to him. He told her that he wished she could have given him a ball with a cord that went both ways … future and past.

She then gave him the choice to either stay where he was, alone for the rest of his life, or to have the opportunity to go back to the young man he was, and live his life without the magical cord.

He chose to go back, and live …

live through the tough stuff

live through the hardships

live through the times of impatience

… and have many memories at the end of his natural life.

And that is what he chose … to live.

And so, though I will probably keep making my countdowns (like, eleven months, and four days until Christmas), I will not forget to take joy in the privilege of each new day.

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false_advertising-img-685I remember well the day that my oldest daughter was faced with the realities of false boasting of advertisers.

It was the Butterfly Barbie. She was shown on the TV advertisements flying through the air (not a hair out of place), her sparkling wings looking gossamer soft. What we brought home from the store required human assistance to soar, and her soft-looking wings had a plastic backing. A great learning opportunity that purchase was for this budding consumer.

False boasting of advertisers have always existed. Whether it is a toy, a hamburger, wrinkle cream or weight loss plan these cons are everywhere, leading people, and their hard-earned money, astray.

It is such a relief that false boasts do not exist in the Christian community …

Go visit a Christian book store, and you will find the equivalent of a ‘self help’ section. Attend a Christian conference, and you will leave believing that ‘you’ can do anything. Show up at a Christ-centered church on any given Sunday, and you will be reminded of the boundless power of the Holy Spirit within you.

So, are those examples of (well-intended) false boasting?

Lets check the king of understanding what it is to boast …

The apostle Paul (I like him),  he was a man who refused to boast about what he did, what he would do or what he could do. As a matter of fact 2 Corinthians 12:5 tells us what he would and would not boast about :

“I will not boast about myself,
except about my weaknesses.”

Hum, ever been to church and heard someone get up and boast about their weaknesses?

Ever been to a Christian conference where the key note speaker addressed weaknesses?

Ever bought a how-to book at the Christian bookstore that explained how to share your weaknesses?

I’m doubting that any of us has experienced that sort of boasting.

Maybe this is why, when non-believers are asked why they do not go to church, a common response is hypocrisy. According to and article in USA Today, a “survey of U.S. adults who don’t go to church, even on holidays, finds 72% say “God, a higher or supreme being, actually exists.” But just as many (72%) also say the church is “full of hypocrites.””

Are we being humbly real?

Or are we pretending that we have it all together?

Our friend, Paul, goes on to explain his rationale regarding boasting about his weaknesses in verses 6-10 :

“Even if I should choose to boast, I would not be a fool, because I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so no one will think more of me than is warranted by what I do or say, or because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Don’t we all have a thorn in our flesh?

We do not know what Paul’s thorn was, but we know that Paul used this painful (thorns hurt) thing to keep him depending on God to be his strength in weakness.

I’m not sure that I could have such a positive perspective on pain … I’m not sure that Paul did ALL THE TIME … but I do know that when I am struggling, when I am in pain, when I am hurting, it is then that I rely more on God.

Maybe others need to see, not the lie of perfect lives, but the reality of pain …

and that it can draw us to our heavenly Father, so that His “power is made perfect in weakness”

Boast in this :

we are weak

He is perfect

There’s nothing false about that!

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This guest post is in video form, and so freaking cute!

But don’t let the ‘little’ messenger take the focus off the message.

This post is rather contrary to my post a few days ago Letting it all Hang Out, when I shared that I have Evil Thoughts and that I often want to say some of the negative things I’m really thinking. Lets think of this post as equal representation 😉 . Honestly, the benefits of speaking blessings to others, rather than curses, has such profound benefits to the one receiving, as well as the one giving the blessing that promoting this lifestyle just makes good sense.

If we simply could spend more time building into and building up the people around us, I wonder if the environment, the community around us would change for the good.

(personally, on number 18 and 11, I would change to chocolate 😉 )

(my favorite is 14 … and 10 … and 6 … and 4 … and …)

So, what about you? What do you think people should say more often?

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The middle of January has now come and gone. We are all in the midst of the dark days of winter, hoping and praying that the light of spring might start to be evidenced in lighter mornings and afternoons.

Hoping and praying …

This week, it was the post Hopeful Grief that was the most viewed. Thoughts that started as I read the email of a woman announcing that she had walked her husband home. Home meaning eternity, home meaning … hope.

Also this week :

A New Shower Puff Scrubs Rough
(sometimes we need the old scrubbed away, even if it hurts for awhile)

The Year of the Lords Favor
(looking forward with hope)

Resolute
(the one word challenge, that it seems so many are doing)

Letting It All Hang Out
(ever want to let your indoor voice outside?)

Here’s a ‘bonus’ on the theme of walking someone home.

Blessings to you this weekend,
Carole

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