children

To the Single and Childless Among Us

Abbie Smith — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 13:39:53 -0800

He slipped his way into my morning coffee, and accidentally, he said, proceeded to spill onto pages of my morning reading. Walk. And now work.

The non-mom-voice keeps taunting me. He did this when I was single, too. Idiot.

Why don't you have babies yet? You've been married over a year.
Your clock is ticking. Your womb is wasting away.

At first I tried to ignore it, but somehow that only created deeper and more persistent taunts.

What's wrong with you? What's wrong with your body?
Everyone else is. And is wondering why you're not.

Feeling David-sized in my voice, up against a Goliath-sized pack of lies, I decided to attempt a response.

You are wrong. Your taunts and arguments are wrong. You clearly do not know my God.

Teary and uncomposed, I continued.

You don't understand my God.
His daughters are given a different womb.
A womb about a Kingdom.

If God should ever give me a child who calls me mommy, I shall be terrifically grateful.
But if He doesn't, there are multiple other means by which He's positioned my practice of motherhood.
Multiple others ways my God reconciles children to His own perfect mothering.

Like letting me tell children how treasured they are, fostering life and a story worth living.
Letting me share with the younger what is pure and what is true.

My womb is far bigger than you are fathoming.
My womanhood is part of a far bigger story.

As a woman, I've been asked to dream with the broken, and disciple hope and a future into the flock behind.
As a womb-bearer, I've been given space to invite the hurting, and marriage to the bearer of life, freedom and healing.

And these are but the fringes.
These are but a taste of the astonishing roles for which my mothering heart has been created.
And for which l am terrifically grateful.

I haven't heard the non-mom-voice again today. But when I do, please remind me of these words.

Raising Kingdom Bringing Kids

Adam Stadtmiller — Tue, 31 May 2011 16:38:32 -0700

Give Your Kids the Keys

Adam Stadtmiller — Tue, 31 May 2011 13:19:17 -0700

“Oh no, oh no!” were the words I heard, along with a scream, as I woke up out of a dead sleep. I opened my eyes to find us heading toward a massive semi-trailer truck at 65 mph. It was the last day of our yearly snowboard pilgrimage to Mammoth Mountain, in California. My wife, Karie, was driving, and we were headed home. We were on HWY 395, about 20 minutes outside of Bishop, and just a few miles from the spot where you can often see herds of elk.

Startled by my wife’s scream, I awoke as my heart raced from a virtual 0 to 60. In front of us loomed a Mack truck. There was nothing I could do. In that moment, Karie had to make a decision that our family’s lives depended on. She had two options. She could slam on the brakes and hope to weave back in behind the truck that was to our right, praying that he would not also brake; or she could hit the gas...

Today’s parenting is a lot like driving. Your family is on this amazing journey. Navigating the road of parenting is not for the faint of heart. Each bend and turn balances beauty and danger. There are driving snows, steep grades and icy roads. Mothers and fathers are called to navigate this highway called life. It is their job to get their kids safely from point A to point B, eventually giving them the keys to drive life’s journey on their own.

That day on 395, Karie decided to use the gas pedal. With our hearts in our throats, our daughters Lily, Lucy and I held on as Karie accelerated and swerved back into our lane, narrowly avoiding the bumper of the steel machine heading toward us.

In the moments right after this near tragedy, I had a thought. With my hands still tingling from a rush of blood, awareness came to my head. It was one of those God understandings where God takes a happening and teaches a truth. This is a paraphrase of what God spoke to my heart in those moments: Sometimes the best defensive driving tool is the gas pedal. I want you to be gas-pedal parents, and your children gas-pedal kids. I want you to focus on engagement more than disengagement.

In Give Your Kids The Keys I write about the fear-based, brake-pedal parenting culture that has invaded the church. Rather then seeing our kid’s futures full of God’s presence and provision, many parents see only potential dangers. These dangers include the Internet, sex, drugs, public school Harry Potter and Twilight’s vampires. Many a Christian parents answer to these fears has been to rapture their children from the culture, doing their best to make sure their kids never have to process or deal with anything that challenges their faith.

One of the keys to creating a sustainable faith in children is through the testing of their faith. When you remove testing, you remove sustainability (See James 1:2-4) While controversial; we believe the public school system offers a better environment for creating sustainable world changing believers then many of the alternative schooling forms that have come into vogue in many Christian parenting circles.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1:2-4)

It’s no secret that 60-80%[1] of all believing children are abandoning the faith at the magic age of 18. The question is why? While I spent a whole book seeking an answer to that question, I will offer a couple of thoughts here. Firstly, we have removed challenge from the equation. The hope is that if we eliminate any faith-testing environments and fill our kids up with knowledge of right and wrong, our kids will be able to sustain a thriving faith once they leave home. History is proving this untrue. You don’t prepare for war in padded cells.

Secondly, we have not offered our kids much more then rote knowledge of Jesus. We have told them that Jesus died on the cross and rose again and then challenged them no further then going out, sharing their toys and being good boys and girls. Sure, our kids know all the Bible’s stories, but have they ever prayed for the sick, looked into the orphans eyes or been challenged with a vision larger then themselves. Rather then exposing our children to a radical action filled life in Christ, we have settled for raising sober virgins who get into good colleges. As long as your kids meet those criteria you can be guaranteed of much congratulations from your parenting peers. But will your kids really know Jesus?

Gas-pedal parents are willing to look their fears in the face and say, “To hell with you.” With faith in the sustaining power of the Savior, these parents are committed to immersing their kids into a full life in Christ. They are willing to let their kids be in a culture while discipling them to live above it. They believe the real Jesus is more attractive then anything this world can offer.

[1] “Most Twenty-somethings Put Christianity on the Shelf Following Spiritually Active Teen Years,” the Barna Group, September 11, 2006. http://www.barna.org/teens-next- gen-articles/147-most-twentysomethings-put-christianity-on-the-shelf-following-spiritually-active-teen-years.

Watching a Father Die Slowly – How can you not weep?

Christian Buckley — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 12:34:14 -0700

Have you ever felt your heartbreak slowly and completely - when you know it is happening and can’t do anything to stop it?

Today my wife came home from Target around lunch time and told me a story that broke me down. She had bumped into a friend of ours who gave her the news that a friend of hers who we had met casually at family events was in the middle of a devastating three months. Her husband had been diagnosed with late stage brain cancer and was given three months to live of which the first thirty days might be bearable. They have a bunch of kids, boys and girls, and were struggling through the process of preparing for his death. Creating photos and letters. Purchasing and engraving meaningful items that each child would have when he passed. We talked about what to give the boys – what I would give the boys. We talked about how they were trying to figure out how to make three months or maybe just thirty days somehow matter in the lives of kids 4 to 14 years old.

I wept. I tried not to, but I couldn’t stop it. My son was sitting at the counter eating lunch talking about how is egg had survived the “drop challenge” at preschool that day. I pictured my daughter at school and looked at my watch to see when I would pick her up.

I couldn’t help considering what I would do in their lives. How I would look into my seven year old daughter’s eyes and explain something of the reality – anything of the reality. How would I convey something to my three year old son let alone make sure he remembered what I said?

I am crushed and I didn’t even think about the father’s death – my death. I looked at my wife and said, “Should we write letters for our kids? Should we engrave something? What if one of us died in a….” I couldn’t finish the sentence and buried my face in my hands.

I yelled at my kids this morning for playing around in the bathroom. I got mad before my run because my IPod wouldn’t work. I told my daughter I would read to her last night and then didn’t.

As I write this, trying to get rid of the sickness in my stomach, I can’t help from welling up and pushing back the tears, thinking about what it might be like to tell my kids, the treasures given to me by God, that dad is going to die and they are going to watch it happen.

I want to make sense of it, I want to wrap it up in a nice connection to Easter, or providence, or trials, but I can’t. All I can do is weep.

I walked out of the kitchen and then turned back and kissed my son on the head. He pushed me away and made a super hero gesture.

This life is brutally precarious and we waste so damn much of it. God give me the power to stop. God give me the power to do better, at least a little, at least today.

Dinner Disaster

Laurie Russell — Fri, 12 Nov 2010 13:21:48 -0800

Last night’s dinner was a disaster. Our 9-year-old son, Noah, was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease and we’re in the process of removing gluten from our diet. It’s been a bit tricky, especially for me as I try to find tasty meals that don’t have gluten hidden in the ingredients and attempt to recreate our favorite dishes without it.

Noah has been a trooper so I thought I’d have a go and make his meal of choice, broccoli cheese quiche. It was a challenge. It took me an hour to perfect the gluten free piecrust enough for it to hold the other ingredients. Excited about my accomplishment, I popped it in the oven. Everyone was hungry and eager to try it.

Thirty minutes later the timer sounded. I pulled it out of the oven, unaware that our 70lb lab was behind me. I stepped on his paw, lost my balance and dropped the quiche onto the floor. Mark claims he heard me let out a couple of “wordy durds” in the process. I don’t recall this but perhaps the stress hormones flooding through my veins and the gluten withdrawal caused me to momentarily black out.

I called everyone into the kitchen and they saw the pile of quiche at my feet. “Grab a fork” I instructed and then sat down on the floor and began eating the quiche. Anastasia quickly joined me, “Mmmm, this is good!” Mark and Noah stood behind us, holding their forks, watching us, “Really?”

“Yes! This is dinner. I spent too much time on this for it to go to waste.” (I’m claiming gluten withdrawal here again for my momentary insanity.)

Mark kneeled by me, preparing to join us when he saw a dog hair. “Nope, can’t do it. I’m going to Alberstons and buying us some fried chicken.”

Okay that sounds better! We all put our forks down, salvaged enough to make Noah a plate and cleaned up the mess. Dinner was saved – well, until thirty minutes later when Anastasia began crying, deciding mid-meal that she wants to be a vegan and no longer feels it’s right for us to eat animals. OMG – open me a bottle of wine!

It wasn’t until I pulled out the gluten-free chocolate cupcakes that everything returned to normal - well maybe not "normal" but peace was not at the table. Ahhh - chocolate – proof that God loves us! It made everything better and the night humorous. It was bonding.

Meals are important and were often central in Jesus’ ministry. He ate at the house of Pharisees, tax collectors, Mary and Martha. He fed the 5,000. He invited himself to the home of Zacchaeus and prophesied and encouraged the disciples at the Last Supper.

A lot happens at a meal. We talk, we share, we debate, we encourage. It may not always be uneventful but when we invite God to join us, healing, joy, growth and bonding take place.

I fear our culture is losing the art of sharing a meal. In our house we’re often guilty of wolfing down dinner in order to make it to a practice or meeting. Or we want to be done in time to watch a show on TV.

The disciples entered the Passover meal unaware of it being their last meal with Jesus before his crucifixion. What if they had rushed through it in order for Jesus to get some more healings in? They would have missed the spiritual food Jesus gave them that night.

Each day when I pick my kids up at school I ask them, “What did you do today?” to which they often reply, “Nothing.” It’s not until later that night at the dinner table (when we haven’t rushed off somewhere) we hear bits of the playground drama. It’s in these moments we’re invited into their lives. If we had not at the table, we might have missed the opportunity to enter in.

I don’t want to wake up one day and regret I wasn’t communing with them when they needed me.

Have a great weekend and may you table be full of family and friends. And if you drop the meal on the floor – grab a fork and send someone out for chicken and chocolate and have a great laugh.

Do you have any dinner disasters that turned into wonderful memories?

Could a Little Whistle End the World's Deadliest War?

Carrie Nye — Wed, 06 Oct 2010 13:53:25 -0700

In June of this year I highlighted NY Times jounalist Nicholas D. Kristof’s article Death by Gadget in this post. Kristof did a great job of speaking the truth about the war in Eastern Congo and the driving force behind it. Yes that force is the demand for Congo’s minerals which are used to manufacture most electronics, Apple products included.

Since that post I’ve also posted a bit about an organization I am hearing more and more from called Falling Whistles.

Falling Whistles began because an American young man visiting Eastern Congo, ran into a few boys who had just ran away from the army they had been forced to join and who were now in hiding. This young American man listened to their stories of their kidnapping and the brutality they were forced to endure themselves and inflict on others. And then he heard something he could hardly believe was true.

The children who were too small to carry the weight of a gun marched in the front lines of the army with whistles around their tiny necks. As potential threats approached, these young children blew their sounding whistles to alarm the rest of their army. In doing so, however, they identify themselves to the threatening group and it's these young, helpless whistle blowers who are killed while the army behind them has time to prepare for conflict. Crazy right? Why is this kind of brutality and absolute lack of compassion acceptable in our day? It’s sickening really.

Falling Whistles recently released a short 7 minute film on the issue. It’s a well made, captivating film. Check it out and let me know what you think.

What do you think the answers might be to ending this brutal, violent, evil war?

Is it refusing to buy the latest techy device until manufacturing companies can guarantee their products are conflict free?

Congo doesn’t manufacture guns. Ever think about that? Who is their gun supplier and is there a way to end the violence by digging into that?

As Christians, called to acts of justice and mercy, what can we do to help the oppressed victims who seem so far from our reach? I’d love to hear what you think about all this.

A Father’s Forgotten Delight

Christian Buckley — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 13:43:22 -0700

When Bridget and I had our first child, little Maeve, I began to consider for the first time what it meant to be a father. I found my mind returning over and over to two concepts that more than anything have influenced my parenting over the last six years and I hope the next sixty.

The first was an image of a fatherly lion, like C.S. Lewis’ Aslan - good but not tame, with all that such an image might signify. I want my children to see me as the lion of the home and then to see God as the lion of their lives. More on that some other time…

The second was the word delight. Every time I think about being a father I think about the idea of delight. I want my children to experience my delight in them just as God delights in me.

The Bible is filled with assurances that God, our father, delights in his Son, his people, and his children. (Proverbs 11:20, 15:8; Psalm 18:17-19, 147, 149; Matthew 3:17)). The fact that God delights in his children, which includes me, is so marvellous that it is almost impossible to grasp. It is one of those things I know….but I don’t really know. I know God is my fatherly “lion” standing firm, protecting me, guiding me, disciplining me. I feel his heavy paw in times of joy, sorrow, waywardness, and failure. But I forget that He also delights in me.

Just this week I watched Maeve through a window at Irish dancing class. She didn’t know I was there, but I delighted in her, watching her skip and float across the floor, hair bouncing, smile gleaming. Last night I took her to a t-ball game and watched her run and play, cheer and try. Again, I found myself delighting in her and I wanted her to know it. Little Brendan watched a soccer game with me and nuzzled down into my lap to share some honey roasted peanuts…I delighted in him. Most days he walks into my home office to ask me if I want to play “fu-ball” with him….delight.

The fact is, every day, in little and big ways, I delight in my Children and I must always remember to let them know it because for my role as their earthly lion to be of any value, they must know that their lion delights in them.

For more images like this one click on this amazing story. Or go to Minden Pictures.

It Was a Good Day

Christian Buckley — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 21:01:07 -0700

Sometimes as a grownup it is hard to tell the good days from the bad. Actually, sometimes it is just hard to tell one day from another. Work smashes into home smashes into faith smashes into life and it all seems to just get lost in translation. But every once in a while, a good day just sneaks up on you when you least expect it…that is if you stop to think about it.

Tonight, driving home at 8:30, my two year old son Brendan looked over at his six year old sister Maeve, and after finishing a deep yawn and fervent eye rub, put a fine point on things by saying in a tired yet satisfied voice, “Maeve, it was a good day huh.”

My wife Bridget smiled at me and I choked back a tear because, as anyone with two small children can tell you, sometimes we need to be reminded of just how good our days really are.

For Brendan, the day included breakfast and fish tank cleaning, an hour and a half of watching (or not watching) his sister’s t-ball game, lunch and yogurt with his family and grandmother and grandfather, afternoon work in the garden, dinner at a family friends house with play time and more ice cream, and a short drive home filled with what must have been some quiet reflection.

What seemed like just another Saturday to me was a good day for Brendan. He spent most of the day outside, playing in nature, running (and eating) with people he loves and that love him. He didn’t do anything extraordinary, didn’t go to Disneyland or a party or the Zoo. He didn’t get a new toy or a new book. He didn’t have to.

What seemed like just another day to me, now in retrospect thanks to my two year old, really was a good day.

I am glad he stopped to think about it

Starving

Phil Towne — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 19:21:22 -0700

Tonight, two of my kids went to bed hungry by their own choice. Two of my kids complained. Two of my kids got in trouble and went to bed early.

A few minutes ago, one of them got up and told me, "Dad, I'm Starving."

I explained to her how blessed we are, and that this is one of the reasons that mom and I will not tollerate complaints about food. I explained that we have so much, and that there are starving children in the world that literally have not enough to eat.

She asked for pictures.

Here are a couple of them I found quickly on google. My daughters face hard with stubbornness quickly changed to a face of compassion. She began to ask questions. The first one was, "why don't their parents just get them some food, or go hunt for some?" I tried to explain, but words seem futile while looking at these pictures. She went on to ask more questions about the inequality of food distribution.

She began to get it. She is 7 years old, and she began to see. She is not starving. We are blessed.

Beyond measure we are blessed.

Maybe, we don't like children anymore...

bo.white — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 11:12:56 -0800

We’re in the season in which we celebrate Jesus being born as a human being. He came as a baby boy and we tend to get sentimental with candlelight versions of ‘Away in a Manger,’ and ‘Silent Night’. However, within two years of the birth of Christ, history tells us that an insecure, ruthless dictator slaughtered hundreds of baby boys in search of the one they labeled ‘King of the Jews.’ Obviously, Herod failed, but I wonder if our own modern insecurities are leading us down a path of child endangerment that isn’t as obnoxious and outright evil, but seems abhorrent nonetheless. Maybe, we don’t like children anymore….

Let me explain.

1) Have you ever noticed that in most U.S. budget cuts, one of the hardest hit areas is education? Arizona and California respectively have cut tens of millions out of their state education funds to ‘insure a better future’.

2) Prior to the 1950’s the word ‘teenager’ did not exist in the English language. But, clever marketing firms created a niche for children to be specifically targeted and suddenly, the word teenager represented a whole new way for children to be exploited. Advertising now aims, not at parents, but specifically at little boys and girls who lack the discernment to know the difference between raw materialism and contentment. Think about who the driving force is in terms of internet, movies, music, and sports marketing—you guessed it-our children.

3) There is now more enslavement of children today than ever before. Human trafficking, sex slavery, and child labor seems to be out of control. And as of yet, adults can’t seem to come to any agreement on how to fight these issues (see www.ijm.org and www.brandedphx.com for two groups who are at least trying)

4) Have you seen the tuition rates of some colleges and Universities? Who pays for those four years? Oh yeah, the children.

5) The vast majority of the more than 12,000 people who die everyday due to malnutrition are children. In most industrialized countries, one of the leading causes of health concerns in recent years is childhood obesity.

6) Malaria, one of the leading causes of death among children 5 years and younger, is totally preventable and yet, some countries lose tens of thousands of children to this disease every year.

7) McDonald’s spends more than $500 million annually marketing their food to children under the age of 18. And you wonder why kids don’t want to eat their veggies? How much money do you think carrot and broccoli growers are spending on kids?

8) The divorce rate has been near 50 percent in the U.S. for quite some time. And it’s common knowledge that the hardest hit in any divorce are the children. Yet, we now have higher divorce rates, later marriage dates, and even lower marriage rates. Where do children learn about unconditional love and forgiveness?

9) By most estimates, half the world’s population is under the age of 21, with most of those living on less than $2 a day.

10) One of the single most dynamic development breakthroughs for any country is to educate their young girls through at least the 8^th grade. The least likely person in any country to get an education is, you guessed it, a young girl.

We can do better...

by Bo White