Protecting Our Space.

Here I sit on a rainy Columbus Day morning. The girls are running around in long skirts and winter scarves tied around their chests, leaving their mid-sections exposed. They tell me that this (trampy!?!?!) look is necessary to playing school, which even in their ridiculous attire is not happening since their two "students" (almost-five year old twin brothers) are NOT cooperating. There are train tracks running throughout the first floor and miscellaneous piles of stuff multiplying on the kitchen counter to my right. One wants me to read, the other wants me to play "Go Fish" and they all are soooooo hungry because, naturally, the breakfast dishes have just been stowed in the dishwasher. They have been informed that I WILL do these things, but not now. No, after a long weekend of togetherness, mama needs to indulge in a little cheap therapy called writing.

***

Several months ago, I quickly came to realize that my maturity level in dealing with my children's feelings of rejection and/or exclusion is woefully lacking. I could barely handle the hurt that overcame me at the slightest slight. It took me THREE WHOLE DAYS to work through my child being left out of something they had no idea they were even left out of! Clearly, I need to grow a set if I'm going to even make it through middle school--I shudder!--as a viable support system for my children. As I was verbally working out this super-imposed hurt to my husband (one of his favorite aspects of being married to me, I assure you), he reminded me of something that caught my attention, something I have let marinate and strengthen in my resolve..and it is this:

The friendships our children have in school are important--the highs and the lows, the good eggs and bad apples--in helping shape their character. And YET, their school years are but in the timeline of their lives. These friends, most of them, will come and go. Family, however, is here to stay. The most important program we can be involved in right now is our space one. We need to protect the space in which to strengthen our family.

This is why-FOR OUR FAMILY- we made a choice, early on, to keep our calendar as clear as possible because we see the need to build a strong sense of family for our children in the early years. They need to see their parents as a man and woman who work to keep their love for God and each other at the CENTER of their tribe. We have said "Thank you, but no thank you" to being slaves to our children's (potential) schedules. We feel strongly that our  children need time and space to learn to live with each other peaceably, to understand the hardest kind of teamwork--the kind that has to work in the annoying minutia of every-day sacrifice-- and in doing so, how to truly love each other and eventually, better understand how to live with their college room-mates, their co-workers, their husbands or wives. In a world full of fractured families (of whom we are included, as my husband and stepson can attest), we are very aware of the need to actively protect and guard that which is vulnerable to attack. What can be a strong and beautiful company of co-adventures can easily become a disjointed company of people pulled in different directions, barely having the time to develop the sense of family that will springboard them into their own separate adventures.


When I write of protecting and guarding against "attack", I do not mean to be dramatic, because truthfully, the attack is most often cloaked in simple busyness and just...life. There are plenty of GOOD ACTIVITIES that are vying for our time and energy. There is a strong sense of status quo, "this is just what you do" when it comes to many programs, be them sports, church or social activities. I have been decidedly stingy in my "yeses" as I sense that being overly-scheduled can silently usurp the time, the space, the intentionality necessary to building a strong marriage and a subsequent healthy family unit. The decision to say "no" to most good things is NOT an easy one. In a culture where "doing" is elevated above "being", it leaves me often feeling like a really, truly odd duck, tempted to feel sorry for her free-range ducklings. Truly, it's a struggle for a person who wants to be in the "in" crowd and be seen as a mom who can keep up in allowing her children to pursue their special interest desires (of which, honestly, aren't really there. They seem to enjoy being home). And yet, my resolve to protect our space is strong.

{Please note that this is NOT me saying throwing a proverbial blanket saying that all programs are bad for families. I simply do not feel this way. I appreciate seeing how sports teams can give community to those who are a part of it....and how God's purposes can be realized in organized events that have great heart behind them and in whom families work together to achieve. Every family is made up so differently and their threshold for activity larger than others. I write purely from my vantage point, which is a mom to several young children, all close in age, with a husband who is busy in his job and at an age where I am WAY PAST thinking I can do it all, and accepting that I cannot even do "most". I do occasionally say "yes", but in this season of life, my energy and attention can be spread way too thin, way too easily.}

***

Recently we took the children on a long hike up a moderately difficult trail. It was a gorgeous fall day, and they laughed and bickered as we tackled the rocky path. It was a weekend I was especially feeling as though we were out-of-the-loop within our culture by our choices. Yet, the resolve of my husband to keep us focused on adventuring together kept me from giving into worry and unwarranted feelings of worry for my children, that they wouldn't fit in because of it. At one point, I looked ahead, seeing my spirited offspring working together on a particularly steep slope and I was filled with inspiration. At the top I had them all sit on a large, flat rock. As my husband intently studied the hiking map, failing to hear my throat clearings intended to summon his participation, I went ahead and launched into what I felt was an inspirational speech:

"I want you each to look around at the people sitting on the rock with you. Most of you are in school now, and will be for the next few years. You'll make friends and you will lose friends...but these people right here on top of this mountain with you? these are the ones that will know you best, will be the ones you call in the middle of the night when you're grown up and the ones you want there on the best days of your life. Dad and I want to give you every opportunity while you are young and still at home to get to really know each other and learn how to best love each other...because someday (even though its hard to imagine right now!), you will be each other's very best friends".

I was in near tears as I ended my rousing speech. For added emphasis, I looked to the father of my children and said "RIGHT, Daddy?". His bespectacled eyes startled away from his apparently engrossing trail map. It was clear he had missed every word but he dutifully said "Yes, mommy...all that you said is true".

"Ok, mom. Can we go now?", piped up the oldest daughter.

It was such a beautiful moment.
For me.
And the birds.

***

Here is is, now two hours later on a rainy Columbus Day morning. I have sufficiently ignored the children's pleas to play with them (what? You PLAY with your children??! Well, good for you!) and now they have turned to their own devices and are playing decently together. I should probably just keep writing and next they'll make their own lunch too.

Thank you for reading the ramblings of a woman who is learning as she goes, who only knows what she knows and leaves the rest to God's big and glorious grace. I know we ALL seek to have our families be strong and robust, full of varying shades of personalities all set in a circle to learn to adventure with God together. May we pray for each other, as we each seek, fail and find to do that which best allows for this...and give that big and glorious grace to each other as we find our own way.

Love to you,