Wednesday's Winning Words

Sometimes we just dig in our heels when it comes to our kids.  And sometimes, it's not the right time to do it, but it's done so you can't go back.  You KNOW you know what I'm talking about.  So, yesterday was the day that my husband decided that Justus needed to watch the news in the morning, rather than whatever cartoon he wanted to watch (like he does every. other. day).  Yep, yesterday....the day after the EF-5 tornado reigned down and destroyed Moore, Oklahoma.  The day that the news was still talking about 24 children missing and 91 people dead.  That was the day he thought Justus needed to watch and learn about what was going on in the world.  Now, I agree that it's not a bad idea for kids to watch the news from time to time and I even understand that he was wanting to watch it, so for Justus to change the station would have meant that he couldn't keep up with what was happening. 

What neither of us was thinking about at the time is what that meant for me in taking Justus to school that morning.  It is a short one-mile trip from our house to where I drop him off for school.  Usually, it's a mile filled with whatever song Justus wants to listen to, and made up stories of Jedi Knights or warrior ninjas.  Yesterday, it was literally one of the most excruciating one-mile trips of my life.  So many questions, and because of our "daily grind," so little time.

"Mommy, did God make the tornado that destroyed all those homes in Oklahoma?"

 

"Mommy, why did God let all those people get killed?"

"Mommy, did you see that there are still 24 people they can't find?  Are they under all that trash?  Why did God do that?  Did he just mess up and make a mistake?...."

With the little bit of time I had, we talked about God's plan and how we don't understand it but have to have faith in it and you have to see Him in the aftermath rather than in the midst of the tragedy.  But seriously, how do you get a 6 year old to buy into that?  You would think, having experienced the death of a parent at his very same age, and somehow finding my way back to God, that I could explain these things to him.  I have never felt more useless as a parent.  All I could do after he left the car, seemingly satisfied with my answers, was get teary and pray that God would provide me with the words to answer and comfort my child(ren) when these horrible tragedies, which seem to occur all too often these days, happen and strike his heart.  I wanted to sit and talk with him for however long it took to get him to understand, but maybe the beauty of the moment was that is was just that--a moment.  One brief chance to hit the overall theme and then let him go on his way and either think about it more or not.  How much more explanation would have sunk in anyway?  I am certain had I had more time, it would have been much too overwhelming or he would have just tuned out. 

There are so many tough parenting moments and often, like yesterday, they just strike out of nowhere.  We want to be able to make the most of a teaching moment, but it's just not always possible.  Let us understand that, not beat ourselves up about it, and continue to do the best we can.  After all, we are all just fine and we know our parents didn't always have the right answers...

Wednesday's Winning Words: Run for Boston

                                 
Monday during prayers, Justus said "...and please help the people who set off the bombs in Boston and don't let them hurt any more people."  Afterward, I told him that was a very nice thing to pray for and he told me "I don't like that all those people got hurt, mommy."  I know baby, me either.

I'm not even going to go into my thoughts and feelings about this whole thing, in part because I still haven't wrapped my mind around it.  The horrors of the mind that envisions setting of bombs to harm as many people as possible at the end of what is supposed to be an achivement of human perseverence... What I do know is that the innocence of a child's perspective always just hits me in the pit of my stomach.  They have no filter and are not yet jaded.  It's beautiful!

I ran for Boston this morning!  Unfortunately, since I have to run so early, I was alone; but I wore my blue and did it anyway!  I hope you consider being a part of this neat event.  Even if you are not a runner, just go to a local one and show support.   After events like this, people always question, "What's happening to humanity?"  My hope is that we see the humanity in the response, rather than looking at the tragedy as a means to question it.  Don't get me wrong--I am more than fearful about what has become an unfortunately more common occurrence (efforts to do mass damage), but I choose to focus on the goodness of people and how we pull together when something like this happens.  It is really amazing!

https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Run-For-Boston-417/613135315380603?fref=ts

A History Lesson

Back in February, I wrote a post about how Justus randomly brought up 09/11/01 and the deep fear and concerns that came to me as I thought about discussing it with him.  One would think that would help me get my rear in gear and be prepared when the actual 09/11 anniversary came around.  Wrong.  I failed again.

Justus' school encouraged all the kids to wear red, white and blue today in memory of that terrible day.  I am grateful that the school makes an effort to memorialize the day.  Both of our kids are wearing red, white and blue today.  But, I know they will talk about it at school today, and am bracing for the dinner time conversation that is to come tonight.  So, last night at dinner, I mentioned that we needed to remember to pull out something red, white and blue to wear today.  He asked why and Kidd told him because it's something special we can do to show that we remember the day.  Of course, then he reminded him about the bad guys that flew planes into really large buildings and a lot of people died and were hurt.  Justus remembered.  In his own way, he remembered. 

He doesn't remember the way that we do: recalling exactly where we were and what we were doing at that very moment, fighting back the tears (or not) as we watch the horrific footage again on television, feeling the lump in our throats and the pangs of horror in the pits of our stomachs as we recall what it did to us, and the pride we felt in our country in the following days.  It's not possible for him to, nor should he be burdened with that kind of detail.  He just remembers the story, at it's very basic level.  Right now, that's all I need him to know.  I am ok that for him it's a history lesson and nothing more.   The rest will come, and sadly, there will probably be some unthinkable event in his lifetime that makes him feel the same way.

Even now, 11 years later, how do you answer when your child asks "Why?  Why would they do that?"

 May God bless and keep our country strong and free, and protect us from senseless acts of violence like those that day which forever impacted our country.  May our children never know the kind of pain we experienced in those moments and days.  May they only feel the camraderie that came out of it.  Bless the families and friends of all those directly impacted by deep and immeasurable loss in that tragic event.  Lord, continue to help us heal and rebuild, but never forget.  Amen.

Wednesday's Winning Words

In really sad news, a dear friend lost her husband to cancer over the weekend.  Normally, I would not have wanted to share it with Justus because it's obviously a very difficult and sad thing to lay on a child.  But Justus prays for "Glenda's husband, Darrel" every night.  During prayers Sunday night, he said it as usual, and I about lost it.  Kidd and I looked at each other and he asked me if I was going to tell him.  After we finished prayers, I did.  He only sought clarification as to whether that meant he was never coming back, which I confirmed.  He was very sad, but did ok.  The discussion was over.  I should know better than to think that, right?

Monday morning, on our way into town for errands, Justus asked me about it again.  Not specifically about Darrel this time, but about heaven and angels.  He asked me why, when we die, we have to go to heaven.  I talked to him about how nobody HAS to go to heaven, but people who believe in God *get* to go to heaven, and become angels.  We talked about how they watch and see everything, and how awesome it must be to live in heaven where nobody hurts or is sick or is poor or starving.  We talked about being reunited with loved ones we've lost before.  He really seemed to get it.  He understood that people on earth are still sad because we miss the person who died, but that we celebrate that they go to heaven and how heaven is the biggest reward we can imagine.

Next thing I know, he says:  "Mommy, I can't wait to go to heaven and be an angel."

Apparently, I oversold it.

On the inside, I feel my heart in my stomach, screaming "NOOOOOOooooo!  I need like 100 more years with you."  Then, he says "But, after 10 days, I will come back to Earth."  Whew!  I inquired as to why and how, to which he replied "because people will miss me.  I will just bounce really high and jump back to the Earth."

Ok, so maybe he doesn't get ALL the mechanics of the whole going to heaven thing.  And that's ok.  Because he's five, and sadly, he will probably have several more times in his life to grapple with the concepts of death and heaven.  Hopefully I will be there each time (maybe except one) to help him.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,

that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16

Heavy in the House

I've mentioned a time or two about the "heavy" subjects we've been talking about lately, courtesy of Justus' unceasing curiosity.  Well, it continues.  Awhile back, during the regular bedtime prayer "Now I lay me down to sleep..." Justus asked what a soul was (wanting to know why we would ask God to keep it or take it, per the prayer).  Given that it was bedtime, we talked about it but didn't go into great detail.  He forgot about it by morning.  Now, it seems we've moved on.

Recently on the way to school, he was talking about how if you get "burned" (creamated, to you and me) you get to heaven faster than if you "go in the ground" (buried).  The he said, "If you go in the ground, you may not even go to heaven."  I swear, I know what you are thinking:  "What in the world are they teaching that child at his young age?!?!"  I do not initiate these conversations with him, but I'm also not going to ignore what he brings up for discussion.  So, I told him very generally that one way is not a faster path to heaven, and that even if you get buried, you can still go to heaven.  I told him how our soul goes to heaven when we die no matter what, as long as we believe in God.  He pointed out that he believes in God, so that means he gets to go to heaven.  Good, we understand the fundamental here (at least what a 5 year old can grasp).

Then, he wanted to know where in his body his soul was.  Are you kidding me with this???  at 7:00 a.m.?!?!Can I just send the kid to theology school now, please?  Maybe he can explain it all to me. ....and we're back to "What is a soul?" 

The chipping away of innocence

The other day on the way to school, Justus was telling me all about how there have been 44 presidents and how important Abraham Lincoln and George Washington were.  I beamed with pride of how smart he is.  I am pretty certain that at his age, I did not know the names of important presidents, much less how many we'd had to date.  Then he did a little of his typical imaginary play, which I also love.  He co-mingles real life with books with tv shows...  It definitely makes for some interesting stories.  Then, out of the blue, he says "Mommy, did you know there were bad guys who flew planes into the really tall building and it fell and a bunch of people died?". I paused, and had to think for a second--is he making this up, or is this a real story?  It hits me, which is exactly how it feels anytime the subject comes up, even 10+ years later.  It is a real story, a very real story.  One that I (and every other American) remember like it was yesterday.  But, how does my 5-year old know about that awful day that changed the world?  I know that we've never discussed it with or even around him.  School, of course.  At first I'm bothered, but I don't know why.  It is part of our history and something that all children will learn about.  Side note:  When I asked his teacher about it, she said it came up when the kids ask what presidents do, and they discussed making hard decisions (like going to war).  Can't say it's my favorite teaching moment in pre-k, but I can accept that.

I've always known that the difficult subjects would come up.  I just wasn't expecting it yet, and frankly hadn't considered 9/11/01 as a topic I would have a hard time discussing with my kids.  In a bit of a shock, I just acknowledge that I did know about that.  Satisfied with my simple yes, he went on mixing real life and fantasy as though we had just discussed what color the Hot Wheel in his little hand was.  However, in that moment, I felt the need to say so many different things to him.  I wanted to say how sad it was, where I was exactly when it happened, how proud I was of our country in the following weeks, months, and years; how hard it's been to be a country a war, and so much more.  Mostly, I wanted to tell him how we would always protect him as best we could and that he shouldn't fear something like that happening, and what a (hopefully) very rare event it was.  Finally, of course I would tell him how important it is to tell your loved ones that you care about them and never say goodbye in anger because you just never know what can happen.  This would obviously all be much too heavy for a child of his age, but I just felt like a piece of his innocence disappeared that day, whether he knew it or not and something needed to be said.  Yet, I sat silent as we drove on.  It begs the question--is that what education does?  Chip away at our innocence by teaching us the truth?  Is it even the truth?  Not to get into a debate over the perspectives taught in our schools, especially given that mine is still only in pre-k, but I guess I feel compelled to know exactly what he was told about such an important event to ensure the story matches with what I want him to believe about that day.

I'm not disappointed that he knows.  I'm not even disappointed that he learned about it at daycare.  I think my only disappointment is that, assuming he remembers and if it actually sets in, that can be a really scary thing for a kid his age and we never want our children to be fearful.  This is obviously not a real possibility, but we still do all we can to prevent it.  We also know that experiencing fear and other negative emotions develop our inner strength and shape how we maneuver similar situations going forward.  It leads me to think of all the other difficult topics that will arise over the years, and I know this is just the beginning. I kind of feel like I just flunked "Tough Talks 101." Guess I better put my game face on, because it's going to be a bumpy road.