Welcome! This month at FACETS, we’re pondering connection and correction as if it matters. We’ve all had honey-sweet and stinkin’ rotten experience with this thing. The team is sharing, but we hope you’ll share your thoughts, too. Check out Tracy’s post here. We’ll hold space for Kim and our guest the next two weeks. Come and see!
I (Jennifer) am glad you chose to enter into this space to ponder deep things and find community and rest for your soul. That’s what our team dreamed of—a sincere sisterhood of women learning to tend to heart, mind, and soul (our own and others’).
If you know know me or read my words, you know I’m a mom of two amazing, strong young men. My little boys are officially adults. Once upon a time I winced at the pace of the early years. “It’ll go so quick,” they said, “You’ll blink, and they’ll be gone.” A mom of toddlers doesn’t have a category for that. I didn’t.
They were right.
Give children roots and wings.
Nothing turns your heart toward parenting choices like your kids moving into the “wings” part of roots and wings. An oversized magnifying glass suddenly appears in your hand, and hindsight grants new perspective. I won’t lie. I wish I knew what it meant to walk some decisions to their destination. Perspective. I might’ve made different choices.
It’s not my intent to lament. I’ve gathered shiny, gold truth nuggets over time, and I’m reminded life lessons are redeemed by sharing stories and their wisdom.
A child needs a caring adult’s presence and protection.
An infant can do nothing for himself. A child lacks forethought, reason, and logic. Initially, my role was simply to keep them alive. Feeding. Clothing. Protecting them from a big world they didn’t understand. One needed encouragement to explore; the other required an understanding of life with limits. Often double-teamed, I fell into the habit of knee-jerk response parenting. I’m not proud.
A fault line and faulty imagination.
I was very present. (A smart phone wasn’t an option.) I kept them alive. (An accomplishment. Really!) I learned to straddle and hop the fault line between anticipating and rapid response. Know what happened next? I anticipated more and more.
A three-year-old shied away from people and experiences. I saw him too timid to walk into his first day on the job at twenty-three. A four-year-old shoplifted candy. I saw him in an orange jumpsuit at twelve. I leveraged wisdom, reason, sternness, and cajoling—whatever may communicate my superior life experience and convince the toddler to change. (Really, you ask? Yeah. Really.) Silly me.
Pride versus pride.
As I recall my boys felt ten-foot-tall and bulletproof by the age of seven. As the primary caregiver, parenting shifted somewhere between the ages of seven and nine. I saw myself as the gatekeeper, the line-holder, the establisher of boundaries. I really became an obstacle. Somewhere on the other side of this strong mom (or in another direction) could lie more fun, joy, and deeper relationship fueled by connection rather than the correction. Yuck! I was so blind.
Are you queasy with me right now? Don’t worry. There is hope. I’m encouraged. My intuitive imaginations were wrong. My family partnered in both personal and professional relationships to sort things. My sons are on their own journey toward the heart, mind, and will of God. He’s a better Parent than me. All very good things!
My young men have peered over the edge of the nest; one is fledging, and the other is calculating his flight path. We’re all learning better connection skills and trying to take connecting opportunities. I’m intent on releasing them to God’s mind, heart, and will. It takes practice. I’m not good at it yet.
We can infect friendships.
I thought raising my children to adulthood was all there was in this, but no. I examined my close relationships and noticed something: the conversations weren’t mommy-toddler exchanges, but there were similarities.
A woman falling in love with a man disinterested in her God. You’ll ruin your life! Another marriage in tatters. Learn and do these five basic “wifey things.” A woman I barely know wanting to study the Bible. My forte! Learn how to do a word study in a foreign language! I had all the solutions.
I hadn’t learned to listen. I listened to respond, carefully forming wisdom in my mind and waiting for a pause. Then I’d share my thoughts and experience supported with Bible verses for good measure. Yuck! I was so blind.
The presence-protection fault line, imaginations, and pride hurt relationships, but it took on acceptable appearance in the form of sharing counsel, helping, and teaching. (Ugh! I hadn’t learned a thing.)
I was desperate, and I engaged a boatload of resources! Jan Johnson’s Invitation to the Jesus Life introduced the in-the-moment, purposeful lifestyle. Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby revealed the heart, mind, and will of God in a fresh way. Dr. Henry Cloud’s Boundaries and McGee’s The Search for Significance taught me who I am and how I to do life with God and others. Eventually I learned about the “chiros moment,” a process of discovery unfolding where more good questions exist than preachy-teachy statements.
Everything pointed to the Bible. I learned about the beautiful, biblical, connected life!
Offer the gifts of time and space to others.
Time is valuable. We give a precious gift when we sit with others.
Connectedness is not co-dependence. There is healthy separation in relationships; others are not me, and I am not them. Everyone makes their choices. Can I honor others by releasing them to their heavenly Father, Jesus, Scripture, and the Holy Spirit’s counsel? Let it be!
Active listening is a gift.
In our crazy-busy, proud culture memes and sound bites rule. Yesteryear’s sit coms solved in thirty minutes what this generation relieves in seconds with pithy quotes over an image or a five-minute Facebook Live. Is it possible to listen without planning a smart response? Can empathy come before solving someone’s problem? Yes, but it takes voracious intentionality!
Connection!
I want to see, I mean really see, the person in front of me! Can I be countercultural by offering my time and an ear? I want to know others’ needs, hopes, dreams—their words in their voice, not some shadowy version in my head.
Correction?
What if correction happened when the Bible and the Spirit spoke to the heart? What if wisdom was only shared at the Spirit’s prompting rather than a carefully constructed argument or Kraken-like release? What if the voice and tone were slow, measured, full of truth with gentleness and respect, and not without clear direction from God?
Safe people can enter into deep conversations, and they share truth out of healthy, connected relationship. Then the whole “correction conversation” goes quite differently, I’ve found. I’ve been part of a women’s group that meets regularly on Wednesday nights. This group of ladies worked hard to create a safe, connecting environment. We have miles to go, and there are many more women who need this precious place to land, but we are seeking a place of connection while treading softly with God in correction.
Thanks for reading! I’d love to read your comments below or at our Facebook page.
