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What You Can Learn From Parenthood

Mar6

ParenthoodPretty much on a weekly basis, I cry over Parenthood. I’m not talking about the actual state of parenthood, I’m talking about the TV show “Parenthood.” I was drawn to the show because it’s about family, but I was also drawn to the show because it takes place in Berkeley, Calif., a place near and dear to my heart. I love seeing familiar places and hearing them talk about the sports teams.

There is much I don’t like about the show: I don’t like the immorality. I don’t like the fact that they take things like premarital sex, abortion and drug use so lightly. Commenters on their Facebook page will tell you that they’re handling things very delicately and all, and, as I mentioned in a previous post (Speaking My Language) I shouldn’t expect people who don’t follow Jesus to embrace the things that He embraces, but it still makes me sad.

But what I love about the show is that they make family important, they don’t make the men into idiots, the adult siblings have a really great relationship, and children are valued, talked to and actually parented, not the way I would parent, but in a loving, concerned, I’m-there-for-you manner nonetheless.

When one of the siblings goes through a separation, her adopted son calls her from his dad’s apartment where he and his sister are spending the weekend. Why? He had a bad dream. All he wants is to talk to his mom.

The teenage boy of one of the sisters gets his girlfriend pregnant. She has an abortion without his consent. Who does he talk to about it? His mom. She loves her kids and they talk to her about everything. She’s been a single mom most of their lives.

Here’s the kicker for me: The patriarchs, Zeke and Camille, are still married after nearly 50 years. She feels like she’s put aside her dreams  for years to raise her family, so now she’s wanting to branch out. She spent a month in Italy painting, without Zeke. She wants to sell the family home, the place where everyone gathers and so many memories have been made. He doesn’t want to leave. It’s his home. But after spending a month without her while she pursued her dream, when his youngest son is indignant that they would consider selling his childhood home, Zeke tells him, “Your mother and I have been together 47 years, and we’ve been through a lot, we’ve been through a lot of milestones. She goes away to Europe and all of a sudden I’m left here at the house, I’m all alone, and I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. And I miss her. I miss her like crazy. I realize that I love her a lot more than I love this house, and if selling this house makes her happy, then that’s what I’m going to do. So that’s about it, Son, that’s the ballgame right there.”

That is the ballgame. Zeke and Camille might not know a thing about having a godly marriage—one that honors God and is a window into the spiritual realm—but Zeke got it right: Oneness and commitment to his wife supersedes everything. No house is worth promoting isolation in your marriage. No other relationship means more.

Now he just needs to get that little bit of advice into his son-in-law, Joel. Sheesh.

 

Parenthood logo from tv.com

Redecorating

Nov5

welcomeMy husband and I are in the process of doing some revamping of our family room. We’ve ordered a leather couch and love seat to replace our worn out, hand-me-down set, moved out an oak bookshelf to our daughter’s room, and made plans for a built-in bookcase/tv/aquarium stand. Right now, my family room looks like a giant mess.

But my daughter’s room is amazingly clean. She’s put that big bookshelf to work in her room—mostly holding her boatload of stuffed animals. She slaved yesterday getting everything cleaned up and going through 12 plastic bins to make room for the new furniture.

It looks great.

Unlike my family room.

Unlike my life.

The mess in my house just reflects the mess in my life as I try to determine where I’m supposed to be right now. With my eldest just a year and a bit away from graduating from high school—and hopefully following his dreams to the United States Air Force Academy—and my youngest in her last year of elementary school, I’m looking ahead to a crossroads.

I’m full on into menopause.

I’m thinking of changing jobs within my organization.

I’m searching for where God wants me to serve in my church community.

Crossroads. Mid-life crisis. Redecorating.

Years ago there was a song that was popular on Christian radio called “Welcome Home.”  Watch it below:

I love the imagery:

Take a seat – pull up a chair –
Forgive me for the disrepair
And the souvenirs from floor to ceiling
Gathered on my search for meaning,
And every closet’s filled with clutter –
Messes yet to be discovered –
I’m overwhelmed – I understand
I can’t make this place all that You can…

Much as I try to make my house what I want it to be, I certainly can’t do it alone. My husband is a great handyman, and his desire to please me makes him a willing participant in my sometimes hair-brained schemes. Not that I’m saying this project is hair brained, you understand.

How much more does God love me and want to come in to what is essentially His home and make out of it what He wants to? He’s not in a crisis. He sees no crossroads. He just wants every corner of my life to be His. I don’t know if recording artist Shaun Groves wrote his song based on the booklet “My heart Christ’s home,” but he could have. It’s certainly the same theme.

No corner undusted; no closet uncleaned; no room off limits.

I’m attempting to redecorate my family room. Jesus is attempting to redecorate my life.

Have at it, Lord. Your interior decorating skills are far superior to mine.

He asked “Will you?” I answered, “Yes!”

Jun12

sc0079bb1f The day was June 12, 1990; the place: San Bernardino, Calif. We were anticipating the wedding of a friend a few days later, and then a 7-week separation as David traveled to the former Soviet Union to record several languages of the JESUS film. We had talked about marriage, shopped for rings in an out-of-town mall so no one would see us, and decided to wait until fall and the end of a busy travel schedule. Or so I thought.

But in order to spend a little time together before our separation, we decided to go up to the Arrowhead Springs Hotel, then the headquarters of Campus Crusade for Christ, and enjoy the view and each other. David had arranged to borrow a red-and-white-checked tablecloth from friends, packed a picnic basket with crystal goblets and Martinelli’s sparkling cider, and a book of poetry. As we sat on the back lawn overlooking the city, David, with a bachelor party to attend in a short time, suggested we pray together. We closed our eyes, clasped hands, and prayed for safety in his travels to an unstable part of the world, and for our hearts as we were separated from each other. In the middle of the prayer, David stopped and said, “Hold on a minute, God.” I thought he was getting choked up from the emotion of the moment.

Far from it, apparently. With my eyes still closed, giving him a minute to compose himself, I felt his hand on my chin, lifting my head and encouraging me to open my eyes. He looked into them and said something like, “Will you marry me?”

The rest is just a blur. I think I said “yes” first, and them something about, “I thought we were going to wait,” and then he pulled out the ring and placed it on my finger. Yea!

Now, 23 years later, as I think about what that day meant, I realize that his simple “Will you?” was much more complex than I first thought. By saying yes, I was agreeing that I would be his biggest fan. I would know him better than anybody and allow myself to be known. I would love him best, judge him least. I was agreeing to live 1 Corinthians 13, not keeping a record of wrong, never giving up. sc00863cfeHas it always been easy? No. Has it always been worth it? Unequivocally, yes.

It’s been 23 years, three kids, three miscarriages, two cats, two dogs, numerous fish and crabs, one bird, two apartments, one cross-country move, two houses, one set of parents dying, one set of parents divorcing, his mom moving in, lots of laughter, lots of tears, and always, without fail, a boatload of love and grace and forgiveness.

Happy engagement anniversary, Hunny. I still will.

Thankful today for:

901. history

902. summer break

903. a successful first year of teaching 6th grade

904. the chance to work on Mackinac Island for a few days

905. air travel–even if I don’t like it very much

906. gift cards

907. bike rides

908. family visits

909. possibilities

910. roses

In Memory Of Those We’ve Lost

May27

american-flag

Because I believe that freedom is not primarily for the privileged, but for the oppressed, and because I believe that the strong are obligated to take up the cause of the weak, and because I believe that those whose voice has not been silenced are duty bound to speak for those who have no say, I will fly my flag proudly today and say thank you to those who have given their lives not only to protect America, but to fight for freedom all over the world.

Repeat After Me: Yes, Yes, Yes

May25

IMG_2477I have a bobblehead of Barry Bonds that my mom gave me and it sits on the shelf above the computer in my kitchen. Just jiggle him and he nods his head, “Yes, yes, yes.” Whatever your feelings about Barry Bonds personally, his bobblehead is a great role model.

I read a devotional the other day that talked about having a “yes” face. How do people perceive you? Do you have a face that invites conversation? Inquiry? Friendship? In regards to our kids, my husband is often telling me, “Say yes whenever you can.”

It’s easy with simple things: Can I take the bird out of his cage? Sure, that doesn’t cost me any extra energy. Can I make a smoothie? Well, will everything be cleaned up? What will I have to invest in this project? Can I have a sleepover? Wow. That’s a much bigger commitment on my part!

So basically what I’m saying is, if it’s convenient for me, I’ll say yes. And that’s just plain selfish. Not that I need to concede to every request of my children, but if it’s a reasonable request, why not say yes?

Will you play with me?

Can we make cookies together?

Can my friend come over to play?

I’ve seen a couple of really cool times in the past week when God has said “Yes” to things I have asked for. First, last Sunday our church was holding a big outdoor celebration. When David got up early that morning to go over and help run sound for the event, it was lightly raining. I looked at the forecast, and it was calling for a 45% chance of rain right at the time of our celebration. I prayed, asking God to keep the rain away from us for that time. This was a really big deal in the life of our church family, and rain would have washed us out. about a half hour later, I checked the forecast again. Guess what it said. Zero percent chance of rain.

God loves saying yes.

The second time was just today. My friend Carol had told us that her son, Roy, who is my son Nathan’s friend, had mononucleosis. Eight days before their graduation from middle school. What a big bummer. Depending on what the blood work showed, he could be down and out for weeks. Again, I went to God in prayer. This morning, Carol called to tell me that Roy’s blood work looked beautiful. No mono. Praise God.

God always has a good reason for telling us no, or wait. I don’t always have a good reason for telling my kids no. Have I raised kids who don’t take the initiative in life because I told them no too often? I pray that’s not the case, and I will work on saying yes more often. After all, I desire to hear God say yes to me, don’t I? Be like Bobblehead Barry: “Yes, yes, yes.”

“You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God” (James 4:2).

Thankful today for:

891. answered prayer

892. a new refrigerator

893. growing investments

894. a 3-day weekend

895. America’s lost and wounded warriors

896. nearly a month on my exercise plan

897. recognition for Justin for his academic achievement

898. a hair cut

899. rain for my new rose bush and transplanted avocado volunteer

900. early baseball games