Reflection

I think one of the scariest things that has happened to me as a parent is hearing my voice mimicked back to me by my children. My son, who is 4, is a particularly excellent parrot. It is not uncommon to hear him shout through the house lines memorized from his favorite books, movies or TV shows. It’s especially fun to hear him tie different storylines together, weaving such complicated web that only he can decipher. Consider this recent tale:

“Rapunzel! Merida is stuck in the seaweed. We have to call the Octonauts to save her. Calling all Octonauts. Captain, we have to save Merida. On my honor as an Octonaut, we will save her. Peso! We have to figure out how to get her out. Can you do it? Yes Captain. OK, let’s go!”

It was so funny! I’m glad I was in the kitchen listening in so that he didn’t get self-conscious.

As cute and sweet as these kids can be, sometimes I wish they weren’t always listening. Like the other evening when John said that dinner “was gross.” He must have heard me me the previous day when I said that a rotten clementine was gross. Or when Rosie says “Mommy, you don’t get to talk like that. I don’t like that voice!” which she frequently hears from my husband and I when she starts to have an attitude about cleaning up the toys.

Speech may be one of the most important things that we teach our children. They learn it from us, in my experience, by listening to what adults say and how we say it. Kids are brutally honest and their speech pattern holds us accountable to our own. A child is more likely to say “please” and “thank you” if they hear these works spoken to them and around them, not just because they are told to say them.

When John was quite young, I went to a play group. There was a mom there who had a few older children and her youngest was about 1 and a half I would say. I noticed how every time she had to tell her daughter “No” she said “No thank you.” Even when we were leaving and her daughter ran into the parking lot, as her mom ran after her she was shouting “That’s a No Thank You!” I realized that this mom had trained her speech to always say “No Thank You”, modeling for her daughter a more polite speech pattern. When I retold the story to Ben, we both decided to make the same change. So, we are the “No Thank You” family.  We also try to be very aware of saying “Excuse me” to the kids, trying not to interrupt them, and always saying “Please.”

As parents, we are charged with raising up our children to live, work and contribute to society. Part of being a parent is recognizing that we still have room to grow and sometimes we make mistakes. Fortunate for us, we are all children of a forgiving and merciful God, who we call Father. As His children, still learning who we are and what His will for our lives is, we can look to His example, just as our children look to us. Scripture tells us that God spoke and creation came into being. God spoke, imbuing all of the Earth with His Word. If this wasn’t example enough, God sent His Word to live among us, to be with us, to die for us, and to bring us safely home to heaven once again. When we turn our gaze, or to continue with the speech example, our ears, to the Word of God, we are better able to mimic or reflect the speech of the Father.

 

Book Review: Thrift Store Saints

Every so often the stars align and I have time not only to read a book, but I am able to finish it in a timely manner. Such an alignment happened while we were on our Christmas vacation, and I’m so happy that I was able to read Thrift Store Saints: Meeting Jesus 25¢ at at Time by Jane Knuth.

41HE5HRAAiL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_This is a quick read but packed with inspiration and wisdom. Jane chronicles her experiences working at a St. Vincent de Paul store in Michigan. Like so many of us, she walked into the store expecting to complete a simple transaction, only to find herself colliding (quite literally) with an unexpected face of Jesus – Jesus in the poor, the homeless, the needy, and the lonely.

Knuth’s stories of the store’s clients are down-to-earth, real, heart-warming and often heart-wrenching. This is an emotional book, written by a woman who has discovered how to surrender to God’s work and will for her life. On more than one occasion, Knuth recalls a time when the cashbox and the need didn’t balance. Instead of fretting or turning people away, Jane and the other volunteers trust in God’s providence. Things always seem to work out.

One of the main points of the book concerns the volunteers themselves. Knuth wisely recognizes that Jesus is not just found in the thrift store clients. He is in the faces of the volunteers as well. Toward the end of the book, Knuth talks about the importance of the invitation she received to be a volunteer at the St. Vincent de Paul store. She wasn’t bullied or guilted into returning for the first meeting. Rather, she was personally, specifically invited to come and see what the store was all about. The volunteers truly form a community with one another.

Knuth speaks of how before starting to volunteer, she was a teetering tree when it came to matters of faith – her roots did not go very deep. She was lacking a foundation, a real and tangible connection with God.

By intertwining their [the other volunteers] roots with mine, by struggling together with the practical mechanics of how to best help the poor, they have become for me the good, firm soil I need to stay erect in the forest.

I believe Jane’s story is relatable and gently challenging for each of us. She asks each of us to consider how we view the poor and homeless. This question is powerful enough. But Knuth masterfully takes us a few steps further. She also calls us to task on how well we invite others to encounter Jesus.

Overall I enjoyed reading this book. It was refreshing in it’s honesty and enlightening about the realities of poverty and the incredible work of the St. Vincent de Paul society.

What’s Your New Year’s Resolution?

As we approach New Year’s Day, everyone’s thoughts are inevitably turning to resolutions – both the ones we broke in late January/early February this year and the new ones we hope will last in 2016. Maybe this year they will keep – maybe this year I’ll really start x, y, and z.

I’ve never been big on resolutions, but this year I think I’ve been inspired to make one. I recently called my grandmother. Affectionately called Grandma J, she is my dad’s mom and my only grandmother still alive. While we talked, we reminisced about my mother’s mom. My mother’s mom (Grandma) passed away just about two years ago and our family still grieves the loss of her physical presence with us. I recognize as an adult what a special family I have and how well everyone gets along, even crossing between my mom and dad’s family. My grandmothers were very close, they called one another often, visited when they could, and wrote letters to one another.

When my Grandma became sick, we were all shocked. None so much so, I think, then Grandma J. At least 15 years senior and already struggling with macular degeneration, Grandma J was struggling to live on her own. Because of her eyes, she could no longer drive and writing and reading were daily struggles. A few years ago, she decided to move into an assisted living community. Grandma, however, was still living on her own, driving wherever she needed, cooking her delicious Italian dishes and volunteering. Her transition from active to unwell to unable to care for herself was rapid. She lost the ability to swallow, then eat and talk. She had to write down everything and became very weak. It was an extremely difficult reality for all of us to adjust to.

As I’ve said, the decline of my Grandma was troubling for my Grandma J. She absolutely and completely loved my Grandma. To her, Grandma was a saint. Whenever I talk with Grandma J about Grandma, she always recalls how lovely, caring, and thoughtful she was. When I was last speaking with her, we started down this familiar road. But then, Grandma J veered off in a new direction.

She told me her eyes were becoming more troublesome and she was really struggling with reading, writing, and her general eyesight. But, instead of dwelling on this significant issue, she said to me, “It’s OK though, I just think about your dear Grandma Marilyn and how she had to write everything down. She really showed us all how to keep grace about her, even with everything she had to suffer though.”

All of us, each day, is dying in some way. It’s part of being human. Each day takes us closer to the day that we will die. This may seem harsh but it is the reality of our situation. My Grandma found a way to die gracefully and peacefully. She could have been angry or agitated – and I know she did have days where feelings of frustration, grief and anger welled up. She allowed herself to feel these emotions, accept them, and then offer them back to God. She prayed, she took comfort in the Rosary, she embraced her family and ultimately, she placed her trust in God’s plan for her life, regardless of how many days she had left on Earth.

Grandma J, I think, found something in Grandma’s death. She found an example of someone who embraced the life they had, regardless of how imperfect or hard it was at the time. I’m so glad that Grandma J shared these thoughts with me.

So what’s my New Year’s Resolution? To find a way, each day, to be at peace with where God has placed me.