Time to start writing again. I enjoyed the break, and needed it, but my mind is filled with new ideas to explore and thoughts to process, and this is how I do that best. I pick back up with a reminder to myself of why I started this blog. It’s not my personal soapbox, not my forum in which to convince others of my beliefs or to share my great knowledge on life, God, parenting, or how to attractively wear sweatpants. I write because this is how I process what God is teaching me. He’s teaching me every day, and if I’ll just slow down and pay attention, I’ll grow. By making this public, maybe someone else can grow alongside me. That’s why I write. Simple as that.
So with that ground covered, I will launch into some of the things I’ve been thinking about this summer. But first, I have to applaud President Obama for his “speech” at Ground Zero yesterday. They were the perfect words at the perfect time. Just a few days ago, I saw the stupidest bumper sticker I’ve ever seen (and that’s saying something): “He’s not MY president.” See? Stupid, huh? You don’t get to substitute your own reality about something as cut-and-dried as who the president is. He is your president, foolish driver, and he’s mine, too. That’s a fact. And I have never been more impressed with our president as I was yesterday morning.
OK, moving on.
I’ve been reading a book called Spiritual Parenting by Michelle Anthony. It would be more accurate to say I’ve been “whooped upside the head” by this book. It falls along the lines of Crazy Love and Radical but within the context of parenting. Plenty to feel missing-the-boat-worthy about here, but it’s also got some very practical take-aways. One of the things she writes about that I’ve been practicing with my kids is to walk through life asking, “What needs to be done here?” Is there a breakfast plate I could take in, even though it belonged to my sister? Is there a door that needs opened for a mom pushing a stroller? Is there some trash in a parking lot that needs picked up? Is there someone who needs some encouragement? What needs to be done here?
Of course the idea is that these little acts of service will become a way of life in our children, so that in a decade or two they are asking, “What needs to be done about poverty in my community?” Or “What needs to be done about AIDS in Africa?” It makes sense that children who think this way and become adults who think this way are the key to changing the world.
So I’ve been working on introducing “What needs to be done here?” into our children’s thinking. But more than anything, I’ve been wondering about this question in my own life. Am I myself willing to be a person who goes through life with this mindset? I think I am, but then I consider the evidence to the contrary.
This summer, my daughter and I were walking down the 16th Street Mall in Denver eating Dairy Queen Blizzards. I took one bite of mine and realized I had only gotten it because she wanted ice cream. I didn’t want ice cream, yet here I was, preparing to slurp down 16 ounces of it. At the same time, we walked by a man rifling through the trashcan for something to eat. He was filthy, stinky, scary looking. My heart went out to him. My ice cream did not. It actually didn’t even cross my mind until I was about a block down the street. Why had I not given him my Blizzard? Instant justifications came to my mind. Well I had already taken a bite—and licked off my spoon. It was second-hand ice cream! How pathetically middle class of me. A man digging through trash for food is probably not real concerned about germs. I felt horrible. My ice cream melted, uneaten, as we continued to walk and I frantically searched for someone else to give it to. But we didn’t see anyone. We saw only people like us, happily eating their own ice cream and hot dogs and coffee, unaware that six blocks away, someone was pulling his dinner from the trash.
Am I willing to do what needs to be done? I wan to be. Am I aware of what needs to be done—at the moment it needs to be done? That’s where I’ve got so far to go.
