7

I have my friend Steph to thank for almost ruining our Florida vacation. While staying at this very savvy resort and spending long days at the pool and beach with utter no responsibilities, I am reading this book which Steph nearly forced into my hands a few days before leaving for vacation. It's called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, and it's all about one woman's journey to simplify her life in order to open herself up greater to God and to generous living. This woman confronts American consumerism and Christian wealth head on and invites her readers' hearts to bleed for the homeless, the refugee, the orphan, and the hungry. In truth, I am deeply grateful to Steph for this recommendation.  It is as inspiring as much as it is challenging.

What I am trying to say is that it is impossible to be here and not be reminded that we are within the top 1 percent wealthiest in the world. That most families feel it is a privilege to send their children to school while we view it a responsibility to take our children on vacation each summer (we were actually told, "Well, you have to take your children on vacation every year," by the vacation representative who visited our room this afternoon.)  While we might stress over which restaurant or beach we must visit while here, many families are stressing over which meal to eat today.  The gross gap in equity between the rich (us) and the poor (80% of human beings) is just that... gross... shameful... embarrassing... heart-breaking.

So back to the book: 7. Jen Hatmaker, the author, took seven months and chose seven areas of her life which needed simplified and tackled each problem area for a month.  Here's her list:

• Food
• Clothes 
• Possessions
• Media
• Waste
• Spending
• Stress

Could you do this?  She ate only seven ingredients during the Food month. She wore only seven items of clothing during the second month. She gave over seven possessions away daily during Month Three.  And she (and husband and children) abstained from all TV, video games, Facebook, blogs, Internet-surfing, iPhone Apps (basically anything other than work-related) during Media month.  You will have to read the book on your own to see what she did during the last three months, as I am still reading the chapter on Waste right now, but to be sure, she gained some golden perspective which no doubt will affect their life choices forever. 

The cool thing about reading this while on a family vacation is that I've been able to talk about this with my family!  In fact, Jarred has been so kind to endure my numerous outbursts of laughter (this is probably the funniest author I have ever read) and to listen to a few "short" sections that I just had to
read to him.  We've talked about how fortunate we are that we actually can take vacations.  I've shared anecdotes from 7, like the time that Jen Hatmaker and her then mega-church husband/pastor heard Shaine Claiborne speak about the homeless shelter nearby where sturdy shoes were a great necessity. And how he challenged everyone to leave their shoes and socks at the Communion table to be donated to this shelter.  And how Jen and her husband took off their brand new, very expensive cowboy boots and went home barefoot on a winter night, challenged and changed. 

I, too, am being challenged to change.  And I'd like to invite my family and perhaps some friends,  too, to engage in some of these experiments ourselves.  I'll be sure to post more on the subject then!

For now, please find a copy of this book!  You will be challenged and changed, too!

A "Home-Schooling" Summer

So in case you didn't know, school lets out today!! Honestly, I might be more excited than the kids. Summertime for us means me not working, afternoons at the pool, sleepovers with friends, picnics at the park, weekly bike-rides to the library, etcetera. I've got to admit, the kids and I have it pretty good. I often get that slight pang of guilt when I hand Jarred his kiss and coffee-to-go in the mornings and wish him a great day at work, and he wishes us a great day... at the pool.

Fun, however, is not the only item on our summer agenda. Well, maybe for the kids. But not for me! Summer is also my season to "home-school." Now, before you get any grand notions in your head about me dutifully displaying mathematical flash cards as my children sharpen their math skills or conducting scientific experiments on our kitchen counter while my children watch in awe behind protective, plastic glasses, let me be clear. I am quite comfortable, at this point, leaving my children's basic academic lessons in the hands of their wonderfully talented teachers. The "home-schooling" I am referring to is of another dimension.

See, I think up until recent generations, home-schooling was a common phenomenon. I would even go as far as to say that many cultures still practice home-schooling around the world. At risk of sounding like a "fuddy-duddy" (what is that anyway?), the home-schooling I wish to resurrect is the training of my children's moral character and skills for adulthood. There. I said it. This, I fear, is a lost art in many homes today, probably due in part to the fact that families are pulled in dozens of directions. But I also think this has a lot to do with what we (including myself) believe about children and what we value about life.

It seems to me that our culture (at least the suburban culture I am a part of) believes that: Number one, the chief end of childhood is to "have fun!" And number two, children can only be expected to participate in an activity if it is entertaining or ends with some sort of pleasure reward (i.e. candy). It's my opinion that these two beliefs are producing individuals who expect to be constantly entertained, who are missing the experience of intrinsic rewards (i.e. I feel proud that I was competent enough to complete that task or contribute to the family. Or... Watching the flowers pop up is so fascinating; maybe next year I'll talk to Mom about planting a garden.), and who are in many ways immature.

So here are some of my goals for home-schooling my children over the summer. (I hope it is understood that I don't look at summer as the only time to train my children. It is, however, when we have the most concentrated time to optimize on life lessons.)

1. Stop labeling every activity as "fun." I can't tell you how often I find myself saying to my children, "This will be fun!" Or... "Wasn't that fun?!" I am indirectly telling my children that something is only worth doing if it is fun. Well, feeding my family is not always fun, but I do it because it's important. Studying for tests was a complete headache, but it was necessary to succeed in school. Visiting residents at the nursing home was a little smelly and uncomfortable, but the kids brought smiles to some very lonely, forgotten people and felt the joy of doing so.

2. Implement a daily morning routine with responsibilities. So before we run off to the pool or invite friends over to play in the afternoon, I want my children to learn that work comes before play (and play is more enjoyable when in that order). I am going to use this summer as a time to further train the kids on some basic household duties, like how to run the washer and dryer and how to scrub the toilets. As they are able to help out with more of the everyday chores, I will hopefully be more free to tackle the neglected ones (i.e. cleaning windows!!) Personally, I think, if trained properly, children are quite capable of much more than we think. (I think of my parents' Amish neighbors whose children help in the garden, collect eggs, and drive horses in the fields at probably the ages of my own children.)

3. Encourage 45 minutes of daily reading. Our local library offers a summer reading program where the children keep track of how many books they read and can "cash in" tickets for prizes. I suppose the kids are reading mostly for the prizes, but I hope that as they read more, they will become better readers, seek out better books, and better develop their knowledge and creativity.

4. Restrict screen time to 2 hours a day. This restriction is mostly for our son who loves any kind of gadget with a screen, but who can actually entertain himself quite well once he realizes no person or gadget is around to do it for him. I am very excited to report that my children have finally begun watching reruns of Little House on the Prairie, the TV series my friends and I grew up watching and learning from (talk about a huge difference in value compared to SpongeBob!) Screen time does not merely need to be restricted; we parents can influence the quality of what our children are watching, too.

5. Teach money values. In an excessively, abundant culture such as ours, I find this very tricky. I want Dylan and Jaida to learn the value of waiting for something they want (versus instant gratification) and working and saving for that purchase. The children already know that gifts are for birthdays and Christmas, so if they really want something between thoses times, it must come from their own wallets. Already we have watched them make connections over the value of a dollar, save their coins for something more valuable than candy, and take pride in handing their own money to the cashier at Target. I've put together a list of tasks (above the weekly chores) that they may earn an extra dollar or two by completing--everything from washing out the garbage cans to wiping down the baseboards to organizing their dressers.

I may not need to teach my children skills for survival or pass along a trade such as some children may be learning in other cultures, but I still feel a great responsibility to prepare my children for responsible, mature adulthood. Will you join me in this endeavor of "home-schooling" this summer? What will your goals be?

Christmas at the Nursing Home

 Christmas... how quickly it comes and goes.  We're pretty good at fitting "it" all in, though, aren't we?  We squeeze in each party and family dinner into our calendars; we dig out our favorite cookie recipes; we scour the web and the weekly fliers for the best sales; we put up the lights and tree, wrap presents, send cards and scratch off our to-do lists with frenzied diligence.

Something I think we are not very good at, however, is being present in the moment. We allow our days to whirl by in a flurry, qualifying them by what quantity of items we were able to check off.  Some never learn this art of slowing down.  Often it takes a terminal illness, a literal dying of the body, to place life into perspective, to re-evaluate our priorities, to slow down and savor moments.  

I was given this very opportunity to slow down the week before Christmas.  The children from our church had partnered with a local elementary school in Reading to make Christmas cards for nursing home residents  in West Reading.  My six-year-old Jaida and I joined some other children and parents in Christmas-caroling, handing out cards, and visiting many sick and dying people.  Nothing quite puts things in perspective than visiting with people who are bed-ridden, many of whom have almost completely lost their minds.  These tender souls are totally dependent upon another's care.  They have no ability to go shopping, bake cookies, or visit loved ones.  They can only hope that someone will remember and come to visit them.

I am still savoring a few of the moments that really touched my heart that day:

The handful of elderly women who burst into tears at the sight and sounds of little children.  

The man in the wheelchair with his broad smile and the twinkle in his eye who kept calling out to us, "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  And don't let the bed bugs bite!" 

The woman who looked to be asleep but who sang along the words to our carol.  

The mother in our group who willingly lifted up her toddling daughter to be kissed by a doting stranger.  

The other mother in our group who connected to a woman by the name of Mary, promising to visit her again the next week, because neither of them have connections to their families.

Then there was the elderly Haitian man who told Jaida and I this was his only Christmas card and who literally came alive when I began asking him about his country and what he used to do there.  He worked for UNICEF back in the day, educating his people about how malaria is contracted and teaching them how to spray their homes with insecticide and use mosquito nets.  Then he gave me a most precious gift.  He asked if he could sing a Haitian Christmas carol, Papa Noel, which tells the story of an orphan boy asking why Father Christmas takes toys to other children but not to him.  The sad French tune and sincere look in his eyes seeped into my heart, and I wished to free this bright mind from the chain of his broken body.  He talked on and on, willing us not to leave, and I was amazed how my daughter continued to stand on her tired legs as if she knew this was a sacred moment.

The visit to the nursing home was as much a blessing to my soul as I hope it was to the dear people who are still living there.  I left reminded not to take my health, my home, or my loved ones for granted.  And I was reminded that it is better to give than to receive.

What moments are you still savoring from the Christmas season?

An Everyday Hero

I'm a substitute teacher.  I fill in for kindergarten teachers all the way up to AP Calculus teachers.  I love the little ones, but I find it weird being around teenagers.  I used to think I loved teens and wanted to spend the rest of my life working with at-risk youth.  Maybe I'm too far attached from them now that I'm in my thirties, because my tolerance has certainly waned.  I now find most teenagers selfish, disrespectful, and annoying.  Forgive me, all you brilliant, self-assured, and kind teenagers, who actually look me in the eye, smile, and are friendly to others.  You are in the blessed minority.

The other week I met one of these minority teens who greeted me with a smile and "hello" in the early morning of a first period English class.  Beyond that, this young man actually came up to me at the end of the class to shake my hand (shake my hand?!), ask my name, and thank me for coming in.  And believe me when I tell you this gesture was in total sincerity.

I have since seen Mike (not his real name) three other times when I was back at his high school to sub.  I saw him again today.  The class I was subbing in had a guest speaker, and I watched Mike greet our guest with the same sincerity and friendliness he had also afforded me.  This maturity is just so rare!

I've got to be honest.  Mike is not the kind of kid I would expect to have such poise and confidence.  He has a hearing impairment that has caused his speech to be difficult to understand.  He isn't built like an athlete, and he has a noticeable scar on his body.  He's actually the kind of kid you would expect to be withdrawn, severely self-conscious, and made-fun-of.

We had a few minutes to talk at the end of art class. Truth be told, Mike has been made-fun-of.  I discovered that he is new to the district as of this year.  He moved in with his grandparents so he could transfer districts.  The district he attended for most of his life was no longer safe for him.  He said he had been bullied, and he had taken enough.  And then in an honest and humble voice, Mike said, "You see, I'm not like most boys.  I don't like girls; I like guys."

I'm not sure where Mike's inner-strength has come from, but today Mike made my hero's list.  A bullied gay young man with a physical disability and a strong lisp has learned to walk with his head held high, his smile broad, and his handshake warm.  Yeah, he's an everyday hero.

Where are the Red Tents?

So I came across this book at the library, New York Times Bestseller The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. Actually, it's a little embarrassing.  I came across the book around this time last year but somehow or other it got placed on a bookshelf in our guest room where I totally forgot about it.  When the library notices began coming, I really thought they had mistaken me with this lost book.  I finally had to pay the cost of the book (that's one way to support our local libraries), and here I find the library's copy on my book shelf a year later.  Anyway...

Books about ancient biblical characters don't usually catch my attention, but this one has totally sucked me in.  It's a novel based around the lives of the wives and daughter of Jacob.  This daughter Dinah is mentioned as a mere afterthought in the Old Testament narrative, yet the novel is written in her voice.  I am captivated by the lives of these ancient female characters.  Though there is much I could do without from ancient life (i.e. sharing my husband with other wives, exposure to all of the dangers of the wild, no anasthesia, and very few rights or privileges for women--to name just a few), I find myself drawn to the women's "red tent"- the place they go while menstruating and "hang out" with the other women in their camp.

To clarify, I do not wish for this in literal terms... how awkward and humiliating would that be!  It's what happens within the walls of the red tent that attracts me.  It's the way Dinah, her mother, her aunts, and the bondswomen share their lives together.  The red tent is where they weave together, cook together, braid one another's hair, birth one another's babies, nurse one another's babies, talk about their husbands and sex.  It's where they cry and laugh, sing and dance.  In a word, it's where the women come Alive.  And I believe our modern world would do well to learn the secrets of the "red tents."

What I mean is I believe that there is a comradry between women that is difficult to find even in a married relationship.  I have always believed that women need women.  We need our mothers, our sisters, our cousins, and of course our girl friends.  I am generalizing here, but women are the listeners, the supporters, the caretakers and nurturers of society.  They cook meals when a friend has a baby.  They call and send cards when a sister miscarries her child.  They cry with their mother when she is diagnosed with cancer.  But their tears are no sign of weakness.  No, women have the inner strength of oxen.  Often while carrying their own heartaches, they also help in juggling the burdens of their children, their spouses, their aging relatives, and their friends.

I have been blessed to be a part of many "red tents" in my lifetime.  My mother invited me into her "red tent" when I was still young.  She nurtured me through songs and kisses.  She taught me lessons about life and was my school teacher for six years!  She shared her heart with me--her struggles, her joys, her love.  She shared my aunts and her friends with me, and their examples helped usher me into maturity.  I've shared a "red tent" with a very special group of girls I've known since I was little.  We've shared secret crushes, laughed ourselves to tears, shared wardrobes, braided one another's hair, fluffed each other's wedding gowns, held each other's newborn babies, listened to one another's pain.  And I've had the privilege of joining other "red tents" throughout my lifetime, finding support and encouragement from women in every stage of my life.

But I fear that "red tents" are fading away.  Our culture does not have many structures in place for them.  Indeed our lives have become fragmented.  We now raise children without the help of other female relatives, and what a difficult task that can be! We have almost completely lost certain arts which used to bring us together--quilting, canning, baking.  Not that I am trying to imply that being female means being a domestic housewife, or that those arts only belong to women.  I am only trying to demonstrate how difficult it is to create "red tents" since we live on a fast-track, nuclear-family-focused, individualized society.

I have a friend who could really use a "red tent" right now.  Her husband has left her and her two children.  She is trying to pay the bills, help the kids with homework, do the grocery shopping, work night shift, explain to her children why Daddy doesn't want to live with them anymore... all while nursing a broken heart.  I wonder how many other women are trying to survive life alone, who have not been as fortunate as I to have been invited into "red tents."  If you are a woman, do you have a "red tent"?  If you have a "red tent," who might you open your door to?

Gag Me with a GPS

Do you ever feel suffocated by technology?  I do.  I remember when DVDs came out.  We were newlyweds and were invited over to another newly-wed couple's home to watch a movie on their new DVD player.  The guys were in ecstasy.  They couldn't get over the quality!  (I could barely notice a difference.)  Almost overnight, VHS videos and players became history.  I hated how there was this sudden pressure to "convert to DVDs".  It meant buying a DVD-player, exchanging a VHS collection for a DVD collection, and increases in movie rentals.  I resisted it with every fiber of my being, until I finally decided that the conversion was inevitable.  So for Christmas I bought my husband a DVD player, using my 20% employee discount at Sears.


I also resisted getting a cell phone.  You mean pay how many dollars a month so that you can be interrupted at any moment, even when you're enjoying a long, quiet drive?  But after having two young children and watching pay phones fade into oblivion and almost getting lost one night on back country roads, it seemed like a wise investment.  So in 2005, Jarred bought me a cell phone for Christmas. 

Then it was laptops.  Then the GPS.  Then iPods.  Then Nintendo Wii.  Now iPhones.  Does anyone feel like screaming?!  Don't get me wrong.  There is plenty I absolutely love about technology.  The internet is the most amazing resource, and I love keeping up with family and friends on Facebook.  I'm enjoying the blogging world.  It's great to have a cell phone to call AAA when I have car trouble, to let a friend know I'm sitting in traffic, to catch up with my mom while on that long, quiet drive.  (Did I just admit that?  ...I don't text while driving!)  And texting is a very efficient means of communication when you don't have time for a long conversation.  The verdict on the GPS is still out for me.  That little box has led me astray more than a few times.

But with most wonderful things in life, there are also downsides.  (And here is where the ranting begins...)  I begin with the iPhone.  All I can say is that the thing is lucky to still be "alive."  It's so darn disruptive with its beeps and buzzing, alerting its user whenever a text comes through or a reminder alarm goes off.  And it's a constant temptation to "get connected," as if you are a poor lonely soul on a deserted island without internet connection.  And have you seen the couples out on a "date" at a nice restaurant, sitting across from each other, staring lovingly into.... the screen of their iPhones?!  Gag me!

Then there is the money thing.  Why is it that everyone has to upgrade every year?  These electronic industries are pretty smart and a whole lot greedy.  Every new gadget quickly becomes passe', and every gadget that replaces it comes with new accessories... chargers, ear buds, remotes, payment plans.  Can you hear the "cha-ching! cha-ching! cha-ching!"?

Probably my greatest complaint has to do with the time and attention theft that electronics bring along with their packages.  How many nights have I stayed up way past my bedtime being sucked into facebook alerts, only to experience the consequences the next day of being tired and grumpy?  And how often have we argued with our son over how much time he can spend in front of a screen or what he's allowed to watch in front of that screen?  And how many conversations have been interrupted by a cell phone ring?  And how many important moments have we missed with our children because Jarred and I are "just finishing up an email"? 

I certainly don't have the answers on what is a balanced use of the wonderful world of electronics.  I do know that I have sometimes longed to unplug it all and move to an intentional community which is intentional about avoiding an overuse of technology.  But I think intentionality is what is important when discussing electronic use.  My husband and I have sat down on many occasion to discuss what boundaries we will put on our children's use.  We've had discussions with one another about our expectations of the other's use. But I think we could do even better.  It's easy to look around and say, "Well, everyone else has this gadget or that cable plan; I guess we need it, too."  We can't forget to count the cost of constant connection, constant stimulation, constant conversion to the latest and the greatest.  I believe all this comes with a really high cost, and one that needs evaluated from time to time.

It's Been Awhile

It's been a little while since I've posted on this blog.  Not that I think any readers are sitting at their computer screens waiting anxiously for an update on Glo-burban Life.  But I still feel some sense of guilt that I should be writing, at least once or twice or week, to be a "good" blogger.  Much of it is for myself.  Call it therapeutic.  Call it cathartic.  I find the writing process an amazing way to sort out my feelings and ideas.  What begins as a muddled puddle in my mind emerges clearer with each written sentence.  Once the process is finished, I read it over and feel as if I have dipped my feet into a cool stream on a warm day.

And yet finding the time, or making the time, is a challenge for me.  Oh, I have lots of ideas and topics floating around in my head.  I want to write.  But when quiet, uninterrupted time finally lands in my lap, it is usually after the kids are tucked safely in bed and my mind feels too tired for the writing process.  Instead, I pick up a book or fold a load of laundry in front of the TV.

Am I complaining?  How dare I if I am.  The fact that I have time to choose to write or read or walk or call a friend is a luxury within itself.  The fact that I can read and write is a privilege many in our world cannot afford, literally.  The fact that I own a journal and a computer to write for therapeutic purposes is again a luxury.  I was never told who I must marry or when.  I have never awaken with the only purpose for the day being to fetch water and fill hungry bellies.  I never looked at the outside of a school's walls and thought "if only I was a boy" or "if only my parents had money."  Lest I ever forget it, the fact that I have choices, a.k.a. opportunity, is enough to sing with a free soul each morning.

So I will try to push the feelings of blogger failure and "poor me" aside and instead be grateful for the times I do have on here, for the choices I have on how to spend my time.  I do have a lot I want to write/process in the future, so stay-tuned, any interested readers.

Memorial Day

So it's Memorial Day.  I often feel a sense of conflict when holidays such as this or Independence Day or Veterans' Day come around.  On one hand, I do not want to minimize the lives of young American men and women lost on battlefields and in war zones.   I do not want to be naive to the fact that so many veterans are not cared for properly when they try to return to normal lives after being scarred physically or emotionally from the reality of war.  I do not want to forget the courageous stories I heard told from my Granddaddy Roy who served in the Navy during World War II and watched dear friends die beside him.

And yet, there is this other part of me that hesitates to join into patriotic events with full-force.  I have learned enough about history to know that this "land of the brave and the free" has not always used its courage to defend the most vulnerable in its country or in other nations, nor has it always extended the freedoms it so values equally among its members.  I know that as a young child I was taught history from the perspective of the victors - the Christopher Colombuses, the George Washingtons, and the Patrick Henrys.  It took many years before I learned history from the perspective of the defeated - the Native Americans, the enslaved Africans, the women, the minorities whose new faces and languages were usually always greeted with dis-trust, if not hatred (and which whom continue to be greeted in such a way). 

I also have a difficult time celebrating military exploits and victories.  I have come to believe that the sons and daughters of our national enemies are not so different from our own sons and daughters and that they, too, are children of God.  And so I cannot rejoice while other mothers are weeping.  I have come to believe that our true enemies - hatred, racism, terrorism, ethnocentrism, greed - are not overcome by weapons of violence or revenge.  As Mahatma Gandhi once said, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."  And so instead, I believe that Jesus knew what he was talking about when he taught his followers to love and bless their enemies.  The real victories belong to those who creatively overcame these "true enemies" with weapons of love, creativity, and non-violence.

And so why do I choose to write about this on this blog?  Well, as a suburban girl trying to live with a global consciousness, I do not think it wise to look at things solely from my own national perspective.  However grateful I am to be am American citizen and to enjoy the privileges of that fact, I in no way think that my status makes me superior to any other citizen of the world.  And so on this Memorial Day, I must remember not only those American soldiers who have suffered and died, but also those other sons and daughters here and around the globe who have suffered and died, for what holds us in common is much more that what keeps us apart. 


As a side note, my husband has been listening to A Peoples History of America by Howard Zinn, which tells the story of America from the perspective of the Defeated, rather than the Victors.