Difficult Conversations

When I wear my mother-of-nine badge, one question I frequently get is, “If you could change any parenting decision you ever made, what would it be?” (or some version of that question). Until recently, I never had a good answer. I’ve felt pretty good about the big-picture parenting philosophies we’ve employed, and the small details never seemed worth mentioning. But now, the answer is easy. 

I would equip my young children with the words they need to tell me if someone ever takes indecent liberties with them. I was a strong proponent, even in this space, of preserving the innocence of children. I still am. Too much information, too soon, robs them of a precious period of life to which every child should lay claim. Childhood is all too short; let them be little.

But we cannot wrap our children in bubble wrap, and even the most protected children are not under our watchful care constantly. Sadly, according to the National Center for the Victims of Crime, one in five girls and one in twenty boys is a victim of child sexual abuse. They are most vulnerable between the ages of 7 and 13, and they are likely to be abused by someone known to them. Darkness to Lightreports that a full 20 percent are abused before the age of eight.  We cannot wait until they are nearing puberty to give them enough information to reach out for help. Even the most careful mother cannot control for every circumstance. Instead, she needs to give her children the power and place to tell a horrible tale if that tale needs to be told.

I don’t hesitate now to tell young parents—especially parents who believe in protecting childhood—that children must be intentionally taught how to recognize situations which are wholly inappropriate and even dangerous. They need to know the warning flags. They need the words to tell if something goes wrong, and then to be assured of a safe place to use those words. 

These are uncomfortable conversations. No parent wants to look into the eyes of a precious child and tell them that someone might hurt them. No one ever wants to introduce doubt into the life a child that he or she might not be altogether safe in every familiar location. The truth is that the more protected a child is, the more vulnerable she might be. We have to say some hard things, and we have to say them earlier than most of us would have ever considered necessary.

It is not necessary to give a very young child too much information. They don’t need to know all there is to know about sex in order to recognize molestation. We can tell them that they should keep their private parts private and introduce the idea of modesty. Then, we need to go a little further. We need to gently teach them that people might put them in a situation where they ask (or force) them to relinquish that privacy over their “private parts.”

Children need to understand that those times—and the feelings of fear or anger or discomfort or awkwardness—are red flags; they are a clarion call to get help. We need our children to know to both trust their instincts when something seems amiss, and to override their fear if someone threatens them not to tell. Remember, a very young child might not even recognize the evil of what is happening as it happens. It’s important to teach them that no one—no matter how known or trusted--should touch what is private, and no one should ever threaten them to keep a secret. 

Finally, they need to know that if something happens and their private parts are no longer private, it’s not their fault. They need to understand that the hurt they feel requires a trusted adult to help them heal, just as if the pain were a medical emergency. 

As difficult as it is to have these conversations, children deserve to be assured ahead of time that the adults in their lives will take care of them if something happens. They need to know that sometimes bad things happen to good kids, and that good guys will always, always hear the secret and help them from the dark place of hiding it to a better place where they are comforted. 

Don’t know how to get started? I highly recommend I Said No!: A kid-to-kid guide to keeping private parts privateby Zack and Kimberly King. God bless you as you do this hard thing for your kids. 

Tender Surrender

Last week, on the morning of Stephen's final soccer game, the heat index was 109 degrees. The air hung heavy, and the haze made it so that I kept continually wiping my glasses, but my vision never cleared. Everything about the morning was oppressive. The weather matched my mood; life felt heavy and hot and enveloping. It was difficult to see more than a few inches in front of me. The familiar landscape was uncertain and light was diffuse — glaring but not illuminating. Please read the rest here.

Memento mori

...And then I wonder about me. When memory fades, who will I be at the core? What will remain to stand as a testimony to what mattered in my life? Living in the Sandwich Generation is the perfect introduction to memento mori, the practice of reflecting on death in order to tweak the details of life. Memento mori begs us to consider the transience and the vanity of life on earth in light of everyone’s eventual death. It’s not a morbid fascination with darkness. Instead, it’s an invitation to walk in the light that illuminates what really matters while there is still time to tweak the details of life. Please read the rest here. 

To Forgive and to Protect

I wonder: in order to forgive, do we have to forget? In order to respect the dignity of a person who has hurt us, do we have to let him or her back into the space where they harmed us in the first place?

Certainly, we are called to bear wrongs with patience and with grace; then, when it is appropriate, we admonish the sinner with kind gentleness. It is an act of mercy to share the faith, to remind another person of virtue and to pray for them and with them for growth — both in virtue itself and in the joy that virtue will yield in their lives. There is a patient persistence in prayer that is our call when someone we love is sinning. We gently poke slow-growing seeds into the soil and then we wait with patient faith for them to bear fruit.

But what if the wrong we bear patiently and the sin we call out is actually an offense against us personally? What if we’ve been hurt by someone else’s actions? We are called to forgive. And we’re called to do so over and over again. Someone recently pointed out to me that we have the occasion to forgive a sin 70 times seven (Mt 18:22) more often than we might recognize. We can forgive a sin the first time, truly releasing its grip in our souls, but then we have to forgive it every time it comes to mind, for as long as we continue to remember.

Often, it’s really in our best interest to remember. Forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting. Instead, someone else’s sins can hold valuable lessons for us — lessons in navigating the tricky waters of complicated relationships, lessons in boundaries, lessons in learning to replace foolishness with wisdom.

Remembering isn’t for revenge. The only one who will repay a wrong is God (Rom 12:19). It’s important to relinquish completely  the desire to hurt someone in retaliation for hurts suffered at their hands. Whenever someone else causes us to suffer by their sins, it can be helpful and spiritually fruitful to call to mind that our suffering pales in comparison to what they will face if they don’t repent and amend their ways. Even in the hurt, we can soften our hearts for compassion.

But compassion does not ask us to let ourselves be victims again. Compassion doesn’t ask us to be silent and let pass the opportunities to share our pain, both for our healing and as a cautionary tale to others. Compassion does not require us to throw open wide the doors of our homes and hearts to someone who might harm us or our families. On the contrary, we have a responsibility to protect ourselves from harm. Certainly, no one would object to refusing to put oneself in physical harm. It is equally right and just to protect oneself from emotional harm. It is entirely possible to forgive someone while at the same time constructing a strong and sturdy boundary against further pain.

That boundary is a mercy to the one who inflicted the pain, too. If we allow ourselves to be victims over and over again, then the people who harm us associate no logical consequence for the damage they have done. Every parent knows that correction requires some consequence in order to be effective, even if it’s the sting of disapproval. So, forgiveness that also results in the consequence of a boundary is not incomplete forgiveness. Protecting oneself from further harm is good self-care. It’s a good idea to be kind and gentle to ourselves when we’ve been hurt. When we forgive, our hearts are transformed. Protecting that healing heart is both prudent and kind.

Summer of a Gracious Home

“It’s the season of mothers!” the bright pink ad declared. I smiled. Well, maybe I smirked. In my mind, I was editing. Perhaps it is a season to celebrate mothers, I thought, but there is no such thing as a season of mothers. Motherhood is a vocation — a holy calling — and it is the call of a lifetime, not limited to society’s little box. It’s not an item for a list of life goals. It’s not just another endeavor to pursue. It’s the beckoning of the Holy Spirit to a path of sanctity. It’s an invitation to create a haven for a family where souls are nurtured and God is known. With motherhood, comes the call to create home. I think that Mother’s Day might herald the beginning of the “season of home” for women.

Please read the rest here.