Gifts for me...

I have already opened a few gifts for me.  Small glimpses of goodness that were unexpected joys.  The first was a few days ago.  One of our children has always been our most generous natured child.  She is the one to share without question, to make gifts and plan parties of her own design.  The other day, she told me she was saving up her money for a compassion gift.  This is not surprising, in and of itself; I know she is a generous kid, I know she would enjoy giving gifts to anyone, even deserving children overseas.  But it went a bit further.  She started to explain about how little girls need bikes, in order to ride safely to school.  And how duck eggs are an important source of income for needy families in certain parts of the world.  She said that even goats can provide needed milk for a family.  She had studied this catalog.  She had spent time learning about the needs of others.  She was excited to be a part of making a difference in the lives of people she hasn't met yet.  It was a gift to see my child catch a glimpse of something bigger than herself and her own story...and want to be a part of it.

The other gift came this morning.  I was driving Hannah to church and we were talking about family.  In the middle of talking about her sister,  Hannah told me she asked God to be her King last night.  I responded tentatively but with encouragement, that it was exciting that she wanted God to be her King and that the fruit of His Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, ...) would grow in her life if He was her king. We somehow started to talk about heaven and she asked me if our whole family would be in heaven.  I said that whoever has Jesus as their King will be in heaven with them, and that I didn't know if certain members of our family, like young William, have Jesus as their King yet.  She quickly turned to William, grabbing his hand in the carseat beside her and said, "William, you want Jesus to be your king, right?".  I loved her excited to include him, to be with him in heaven.  We talked about how God made Hannah and knows her and loves her best; how heaven will be full of just what Hannah needs because the God who made her is preparing a place for her.  As a typical parent, I said He will know the favor of ice cream she likes best, the things she likes to do best.  But Hannah quickly interjected with excitement,"And I will get to be with God!".  What a Christmas gift indeed!  To be reminded by my toddler that being in the presence of God is a great joy.

Playing host...(also Pretending Part 2)

One important character I left out of my blog on the importance of pretending...is the host or hostess.  I am thinking about this as I plan yet another Christmas party at our house and once again find myself woefully lacking in many of the hostess skills (thinking ahead, caring a great deal about decorations, and planning in detail about non-life-threatening matters).  The best host or hostess is actually a great pretender.  They smile and greet you as if they had not lifted a finger all day.  The floors always look this good, the bathrooms are always this clean.  They enjoy conversation at the party as if there is no carpet to clean, no food to clear away in just a few hours.  They pretend the moment of this party is all there is, nothing before and nothing to come, just this time to enjoy together.  They are never tired and do not yawn.  And so we settle in and enjoy, and we are blessed by their hospitality and kindness.  We laugh and talk and leave the details of real life far away.  The host or hostess gives us a gift as they pretend this hosting is effortless on their part.  We are all nervous in the presence of an anxious host; the one who worries aloud or seems unable to settle down and be with us.  You have seen this person, they move quickly, constantly refilling cups or moving food about tables.  They are never able to talk, just to be about the task.  The host or hostess who is unable to pretend takes away from the moment; we begin to worry for them.  Instead of being present at the party, we start to think ahead as well.  Should we go ahead and clear the dishes?  Do we need to leave early?  Are they tired already?  Children are very different from adults. They love parties without question.  Perhaps this is because they give no concern to whether or not their host/hostess is a good pretender.  They are able to enjoy the moment regardless.  I have a dear friend who is an excellent hostess.  I went and stole away at her home for solace and rest recently.  I knew I would feel no burden in being there.  I knew I could rest in the moment because she is always able to make it all effortless. And it was healing; it was a gift to me.  For us adults, we need a great pretender to help us enjoy the moment and leave the worries and details behind.  Is this what Jesus did at the Last Supper?  Did He invite them to a feast with a peace and calm despite terrible details he knew in his mind?  But he wasn't pretending.  He knew the events to follow this party were worth it.  He knew the real after-party, the life everlasting, the new heavens and new earth, was actually the best part.  Here's to a Christmas where we can enjoy the moment...because the real after-party is yet to come....

Pretending....

There is value in pretending.  Children already know this.  We adults think it is childish to pretend and so we discredit its power.  The other week the kids and I read about the Sun King, Louis XIV of France and how he attributed the success of his leadership to being a divinely appointed king, one due all manner of honor and privileges.  He pretended to be all worthy, exemplary in every way.  He made the little things in his daily life into great ceremonies, even giving individuals the "great privilege" of emptying his chamber pots.  The nobles of France were swept into his act, the theater of his kingship. And he served on the throne for many years.
 In medical school, they tell you to "pretend" that you know what you are doing as you enter the room with a patient those early years of practicing.  They explain that entering that room with clumsy manners and sweaty insecurity is actually harmful to the patient.  It creates anxiety for them instead of allowing them to be given the art of medicine, the reassurance of a doctor's presence.  And they are right.  The patient wants to believe that just the presence of the doctor is the beginning of a helpful path of healing.  I remember how hard this idea was for me to "pretend" prior to my clinical experiences.  Would I be lying to my patients?  And yet, when I stepped into the room, I found how much it seemed helpful.  I put aside my own self, full of insecurities and questions, and stepped into a role, a role in which I would better serve others.
I think that part of being a good parent is pretending.  Pretending that you do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what you are doing when you tell them that it is important to obey and go to bed and stay there.  Pretending that you are most definitely worthy of honor and respect when you really feel that you make a thousand mistakes a day.  They are young.  As they are trying to understand the big-ness of this full-sensory adventure ride of a world, they need to know there is a steady guide, a calm hand at the stern of the ship.  One day there will be nuance and multi-layers of color to all of this, but for now it is simple.  No, as a five year old, you will not be allowed to decide  what you should eat or with whom you should play.  We know what we are doing up here in the cockpit.  Sit back and enjoy the ride.  And hopefully this "pretending" will give them grace to sit back and enjoy the much greater adventure of life; being a small part of God's big kingdom plan when His ways are much higher than your ways.