The Profound Impact of Departed Family Members and Family History on Children

I often ask in my office if anyone in the family has passed away recently. The parents often say, “No,” and their child will pipe in, “my uncle.” Their parents will look confused and say, “you were only 2…you didn’t really know your uncle.” The child will sit silent, or sometimes she will give me a whole list of family members, close or not, who have passed away during their lifetime or a little before, as their parents look on, surprised at how much information their children have gleaned about the members of the family who are not around anymore. Is it possible that this is a testimony to how often children are listening and paying attention to the talk of adults in their family who did know the deceased, and so they ascribe major importance to that person?
Another interesting response I have noticed is the quiet, non-sound of ears perking up when a child’s earliest years are discussed. A boy may be playing with Legos on the ground, but his hands becomes still and his face turns toward his mother as she tells about his delivery, his walking, and talking, and potty-training. Sometimes I think it may be the first time he has heard this information, or he is enamored with his mother’s remembrances of him as a baby. I hear the same interesting silence when family history from years gone by is mentioned, about aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents who are connected with the child, especially if the story reveals something about how that child ended up living with whom he is living with, and having the life that he has. Children instinctively seem to know that this kind of history is important, and many parents have, whether due to discomfort, poor engagement with the child, or lack of understanding of its importance, neglected to share these stories.

What are your thoughts on the importance of legacy to the next generation?

Callings

If you have been around ministers of the gospel for any period of time, you may have picked up on a belief in a "calling" to a certain profession. A pastor, for example, could not be satisfied if he was a plumber, because that is not his calling. If you are called to perform a certain job and you do not do it, you will find yourself perpetually dissatisfied, and probably not very pleasant to be around. This is why pastors stay pastors, even though the pay is bad and the job is hard. They believe they are living God's will for them, and that the rewards in heaven will highly outweigh the stressors of this present age.

But what about the rest of us?
Last night, I spoke in front of my church reporting back, along with the youth who went and my husband (who is a youth pastor and definitely feels called to this) about our sojourn to the state youth conference last week. I wanted to tell them about how God is allowing me to do public speaking for the first time, a desire of my heart long pondered over and finally granted. Yet I hesitated to call it a calling, as I had thought of it. I hesitated and said something flimsy like, "I have always wanted to do public speaking" instead of using the emphatic language of a call. I considered this later. First I thought I was just nervous because it was my own church, but then I realized there was more to it than that. I don't have a "calling" in the sense that pastors and preachers and understand a calling, because in that definition, if you are doing anything else, you are out of line. God is not (sometimes I wish He would!!!!) calling me to stop working at a clinic and spend life on the road speaking to different groups of people. Rather, He has given me an innate enjoyment of public speaking and sharing inspirational words with large groups of people (unlike some folks this doesn't make me nervous, at least, not as much!) and is slowly providing me with more opportunities to do these things. In the meantime, I am called to support my husband and minister beside him, to work full time as a therapist, and to strengthen and encourage my church. That is my calling. Public speaking and singing are the icing on the cake. I know in my heart that I will get more opportunities to do these things because they are God-given desires and gifts.


So the next time I talk to my church family about speaking arrangements, more of which I believe are coming, I think I will say something more like this: "God has given me a heart for speaking to people about Him, and I am so glad He is giving me opportunities to do just that." I hope they can understand how I am both called, and not called, to a unique sort of ministry.

Some Days

Some days,


I want to be seen.

I write, I proclaim, I stand up and speak so I can be noticed.

Like a peacock strutting his stuff,  I want to be ...remarkable...

stirring up the waters of the world as I rush through them.



But some days,

I want to curl up like a walnut in its shell

as the world goes by,

unseen, unnoticed, and have nothing demanded or sought. Simply to be...unremarkable...

allowing life to pull me along with its unrelenting tide.

Earlier Today

Better places, better times
smiles, relief, and quite a ride-
I like the way the world so shines
with hope on the horizon's tide.

I Just Can’t Seem to Keep The Kitchen Clean

I have a master’s degree,
I’m part of an honor’s society,

And my sense of analysis is keen,

But for some reason, I just can’t seem

To keep my kitchen clean.



I work all day,

I watch the money,

I try to take care of my Honey,

But for some reason, I just can’t seem

To keep my kitchen clean.



I feed the dogs,

I go to the gym,

I try to stay pretty and slim,

But for some reason, I just can’t seem

To keep my kitchen clean.



I make the dinner,

Fold the clothes,

Mentor the youth and share their loads,

But for some reason I just can’t seem

To keep my kitchen clean.


I slave over plates and scrub the pans,

Feeling the grease slide on my hands,

Stack and dry and sweep and plan,

I can do all this so why does it seem,

I can never keep my kitchen clean?

The Glass Ceiling is Broken

We lived happily in our contained, safe, snowglobe of a world.

Sure, there was a storm everyonce in a while, and sometimes the
world got turned upside down. But these crises were predictable and
after they were over, our world always returned to its stable rest.

Now, the glass is broken, and the staples of our youth are splattered on the floor.
We used to be side by side, and now, I do not seem to know when you will turn up again.

There is no more protection from the outside world.
Anything can happen, now, and we can be separated.
No more are the predictable, safe storms of our youth-
Now we are out in the cold, inexplicable world,
and nothing can restore.

Hooray for Old People at the Gym!

I have been (so far successfully) trying to offset Holiday eating by increasing gym time from my paltry weekly visit back to 3/4 times a week. I go in the mornings when it is not very crowded, and there are many old people there. I don't mean slightly old people, although there are some of them there, too. I mean old people in their 70s and 80s, possibly older. I see them industriously exercising their muscles and doing cardio, and I am impressed! Husbands and wives come together and exercise parallel to one another. They are faithful, consistent, motivated, and cheerful! Oh, to still be going to the gym when I am 80, keeping the muscles moving.