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Dueling Crayons

Photo Credit: CC - Paul Bonhomme.

Photo Credit: CC – Paul Bonhomme.

Miss M, in her new awareness of “pretty” started combing her hair until it straightened. It saddened me to watch the curls unravel, but even more so, to see at an early age such a desire to be other than her created self. Perhaps I contributed to the problem – I both started straightening my hair via blow dryer this summer with a new style and I told her I loved her curls. In any case, she’s not convinced the curls should stay.

I told her – and all of them – that God had created them as individuals. We talked about how before they were in their mama’s belly, God got out a piece of paper and some crayons and began to make a Miss M. And an H Boy,  a Lady C and a Mr. M. I told her how God does amazing work and doesn’t make mistakes, all of his creations are beautiful because they have a little piece of God in them. His fingerprints are on his paintings, on us.

 

There are no kids across the street anymore. Mom is still there, smoking on the front porch. The male figure(s) arrive and leave, yesterday with loud shouting and some physical restraint. I can’t imagine that when God pulled out his fresh piece of clean white paper, this is what He drew. I don’t believe this woman grew up aspiring to the children’s services rotation. She never dreamed of relationships that would drown her. She doesn’t want this. Either does God.

 

Straightening our hair or poisoning our minds with artificial and temporary fulfillment – we all have our way of picking up a black crayon and telling God, “nice try.” As co-creators, commissioned to continue what He began in his first 6 days, we spend time with the paper. The question isn’t if we draw, it’s what we draw.

We have opportunity to sit with the master, to learn how to take long, careful strokes. He can tell us how to blend the most extraordinary colors, to accent with shadows and make a piece come alive and jump off the paper. We can sit, listen, absorb, practice, be corrected, seek feedback and take risks under the supervision of the Master.

Or we can take a black crayon and declare the entire work trash.

Either way, I’m in firm belief that God never stops drawing. If we’re breathing, he’s adding color. You cannot scribble which he cannot work into something of overall beauty.

At any time, we can join him. We can begin to choose complementary colors. They might be elementary. Perhaps we start with stick figures and sunshines. It doesn’t matter. A heart that looks to learn and create something of beauty, rather than living in anger with the paper, is a heart that is in tune with God. And God can make beautiful things (as Gungor lyrically puts it) out of dust and out of us.

Choose your crayon.

Authentically good

Hi, I’m Michele.

I don’t struggle to keep my house in order. I live a calmer existence when I can see my floor and countertop, so I regularly clean them off.

I’m notoriously organized. I can tell you where to find what and when we’ll be where.

I exercise a great amount of discipline. I go to bed when I’m tired, which often means before 9 and nearly always before 10. I wake early and spend regular mornings of solitude and study the Bible.

I spin a good tale. Whether about fetching a pot of cold soup or finishing a half-marathon, I love the act of bringing people with me into a memory or a story – my own or someone else’s.

I read everything. Currently small slips of paper mark my place in 5 books, one of them being an Old Testament commentary, another on the history of the world according to food and one a fiction novel I might marry someday. I follow and regularly read 108 blogs.

I think existentially about things like screen time, food sources and word choice with my kids, among most everything else. I think, think, think and 90% of the time I make a decision based upon those thoughts. I dig for root causes and prescribe remedies to challenging situations in my life. If I don’t like something, I think about it and change it.

I apologize for these tendencies when they’re revealed. (Even just listing them for the Whole Wide World to read made me want add footnotes of explanation). For some reason, I feel shame about the person I am, even when these things bring about positive results in my life. I don’t desire to change them, yet I don’t desire anyone know about them either.

Image via CC - Grey World.

Image via CC – Grey World.

Now my faults? You know them. I’m not a Pinterest mom. I refuse to cut the peel off my kids’ apples, let alone their sandwiches into cute shapes. If we ate sandwiches, that is. I’m not a floor mom. I don’t get out of my chair to be a part of the adventures of building and exploring and imagining. I encourage from afar and give them siblings for such play. I lack follow through and I’m rarely thoughtful.

These things, I’m quite free with people knowing. I’m fine with such shortcomings. I apologize when they hurt feelings and I own up to them.

In the name of authenticity, I don’t hide my faults. That’s what we do, right? To be real, we tell people all the ways we fail.

Our veiled attempt at honesty is robbing us the joy of a peaceful existence. These habits aren’t authentic, they’re deprecating. How can we possibly be better off by apologizing for the ways in which we’re trying to make the world, or at least our own lives and homes, a smidge better that we found it yesterday?

Friends, I don’t need more of this. I don’t need people – specifically women – to dwell on their failures in order for me to feel better about my lack of perfection. I need people who are doing their thing, who found their spark and live ablaze. I’ve been on this earth for 34 years now, I’m pretty confident that perfection doesn’t exist. Can’t we just agree to be imperfect and move on? I’m positive we can be honest about our faults without making a slide show out of it.

Sitting in Faultville and comparing maps of the city will get us nowhere. Let’s just agree on our starting point and get in a caravan headed to Bettertown. I promise that each of us knows at least little bits of the path, so together we’ll make it. Unless we all keep lying about the beautiful ways in which we were created for good. If you withhold from me – from us – the gifts of your life, the way in which you reveal the nature and love of God in your very own flesh and soul, we might run out of gas.

The things you do well, the tasks and projects for which you secretly give yourself a gold star, are fuel for the human spirit. If not for all of humanity, let me say they are inspiration for your children, for your family, and me. I don’t need another person to show me how to live in shame, wishing I were better at this or that and in the meantime neglecting who I really am. I want to surround myself with people who don’t apologize for the ways in which they’re living well. I’m fine with my faults – I need folks who will help me accept the best part of me.

Currently changing my life: Bedtime routine

Perhaps this post is a tad premature – we’re still in the early stages of creating this ritual. But my excitement for how our evenings have shifted is so great, I can hardly contain the words. Also, a strong sense that no one in this world does things exactly as I tell her gives me freedom to offer a jumping off point as opposed to the solution to change your entire life, forevermore. 

The Background

  1. I hate bedtimes. It’s my least favorite part of the day because I have the least amount of patience and they have the most energy to ignore what I say. Long before I read Glennon I referred to bedtime as a lifesize version of whack-a-mole , making the ordeal excruciatingly long. I know this is normal for all small children but it doesn’t decrease my frustration. I’ve added our foot and breath practice after all stories are read, teeth are brushed, potties are visited, blankies are found, drinks are drunk and prayers are prayed. I turn down the lights so afterwards I give a kiss, a hug and walk out the door.
  2. I’ve tried to become a tad better about using my DoTerra oils to enhance our health. This became an easy place to began to integrate oils, specifically OnGuard (feet) and lavender (forehead), in our routine.
  3. I recently shared how a shift in my own sleep has made a world of difference to me personally so I began to examine what would translate well for the children. One of these things is rubbing the head and feet – the body’s positive and negative poles – before bed to help release the day’s work.
  4. I appreciate the sentiment of taking “a few cleansing breaths” yet I’ve always lacked the practice. Because children’s imaginations tend to be stronger than our own, I decided to use the breath practice as an end to our day to help on multiple levels. For me, this becomes a spiritual practice as much as a physical one, a practice anticipate shifting and evolving as they and their understanding of the world and God grows through the years. We still say our prayers so our breaths are an active anticipation of God’s work in our lives.

The Foot Practice 

Most of the time, these are one-on-one moments, but at times of flying solo in the bedtime hour, we do the foot rubbing as a group and the breathing in individual rooms.

First, I lather my hands with a few drops of neutral oil (coconut will work) and just a drop of OnGuard. I rub each foot individually – I pull on their toes gently, rub my thumb on the top of the foot between each of the toes, rub all over the bottom with close attention to have a few long strokes down the inside of the sole, and I use my knuckles to rub from to to heel to give the entire foot stimulation. I end each foot with three light fingertip strokes, toes to heel. This takes only a few minutes, but my kids are very receptive.

Instead of telling you anything about reflexology and the benefits of rubbing your tootsies, I’ll let my brother-in-law Chad explain it. He’s got more education and training. I’m just telling you my kids love it.

I also use a drop of lavender on my thumbs and rub their foreheads, down the sides of their face and under their eyes – all around the sinus cavities. Because we’re all fighting off a massive amount of mucus, they found this very helpful, especially before bed, to help clear their breathing.

The Breath Practice

I chose 3 breaths because I love random rules and the numerology involved with Christian and Jewish prospective favors 3 and 7, but 7 seemed like a lot (for me, I will be doing this x4). So choose your number.

The first breath, I ask the kids to gather in the day. Reach down to the toes, out to the fingertips and up to the head and grab all the pieces of the day. All our words, all our thoughts, all our frustrations and fears. I tell them that as we take a deep breath in, we gather those together to make a ball in our center, and as we breathe out we imagine them leaving us. We envision the day leaving us like smoke coming out ears (H boy loves that imagery). Sometimes I ask if we need to do it again, just in case we missed any spots.

For the second breath, we breathe in God. We replace the day with God’s presence. I tell them that we breathe in God and as we breathe out, imagine God sitting down in our heart, living inside of us.

For the third breath, we breathe in Jesus. I know, a tad redundant theologically, but I wanted 3 and this started on the fly. So we breathe in Jesus and as we exhale we imagine him moving down to our feet, so he is present wherever we go the next day. We imagine him moving into our hands, to be a part of whatever work we do. We have him go up into our heads with our thoughts and what we see, hear and say tomorrow. We’re bringing Jesus into our days by visualizing his presence throughout our being.

One morning, after having added our breaths to bedtime, the beginnings of an argumentative ride to school was in the works. I nipped it by offering to do our breaths, which the children gleefully agreed. On this trip, we did God & Jesus in the same breath and for our third breath we breathed in kindness, asking it to infuse us. Then we talked about how if we’re filled with kindness we would be able to show it to other people. We talked about the ways in which we could be kind to others and I asked them to look for ways that morning to be kind. A really good mom would ask them on the way home how they did, but I have lackluster follow through skills.

I like the idea of expanding the practice to include a quality (in my mind, that would be the fruit of the Spirit) for the kids to look toward. Sometimes broad, sweeping generalities are tough for our little minds to grasp, but smaller chunks of familiar ideas are more digestible. So if you decide upon your own practice, you might use one of these qualities or intentions (as my yogis would say) to include.

My bedtime practices have not completely absolved me of bedtime frustrations. Someone inevitably bounce out of bed to ask something. Yet we all end the day in more peace – including me. They relax, knowing the sun has set on our day. It’s become a punctuation mark to symbolize that this is done and tomorrow we begin anew.

I hope it blesses your family in its own unique way.

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