Loving the Unlovable

I was about to turn 22, just newly married and moved with my husband to our new home for the next three years in Davenport, Iowa. Fresh out of college, I thought I'd get a nice secretarial job, but it wasn't all that easy. The town was going through and economic recession and jobs were scarce. Ironically, I was "over qualified" for the ones I wanted, and it took a while before I found the opening for a home-health aide. Kind of a step down from a nurse's aid.

I was to drive from house to house throughout the neighboring towns to visit the elderly and handicapped who had signed up for help with their household chores, cooking, bathing, feeding, and administering their medications. I was to be trained in basic first aid and nursing care at the local community college, and be paid by the hour plus gas money per mile that I drove.

I was actually excited about caring for sweet old grandmas. I just imagined how grateful they would be and what a lovely time we'd have together. That illusion lasted less than a day. The reality was that many who needed home care were those who had no family, no one to bother looking after them in their old age. They were often senile, suspicious, angry, even hostile to deal with. They shouted, swung their canes, accused me of stealing their loose change, demanded that I clean much more than I could in the time frame I was allowed. They were difficult to bathe, left piles of soiled clothing for me to clean, wouldn't eat the food I prepared, and their homes often smelled of old urine. I tried my best to show kindness and they returned it with bitterness. They were sad, lonely and very very unlovable, but they desperately needed someone to care about their forgotten lives.

I came to dread going to work, knowing that I was getting paid minimum wage for doing the job that only an angel could endure. But I remembered that Jesus asked if we love only those who love us back, what reward will be have? He wants us to love even those who persecute us. Loving the unlovable was a very unglamorous, humiliating and thankless job. But then again, isn't that the kind of treatment God gets from His creation every single day? As much as we have been loved by God when we haven't deserved an ounce of it, we ought to be able to forgive, love and reach out to others whether they ever thank us or not.

I'm sure by now all of those people I cared for 25 years ago have passed away, but the love I invested is already being multiplied and returned to me and will continue to do so for eternity. It proves that any sacrifice made out of faith is worth it. Just enough to make me want to invest so much more.

Let the poor say I am rich...

When my mom and dad knew that they were to be sent to work as missionaries in South Korea in the mid 1950's, the first thing they did was go to school. They studied Korean language, history and church growth classes. For two years before they even set foot on Korean soil, they were immersed in the preparations of a lifetime of service to the church in Korea. It was exciting and dangerous and challenging for them to arrive with two little children (I wasn't born yet), to adjust to that war-torn land.

As years went by and I came along, their Korean language skills improved tremendously, my dad could navigate through the most treacherous streets in his Land Rover, negotiate out of a traffic ticket with any Korean policeman, and befriend practically anyone he met. They were constantly going to church meetings, grand openings of Christian schools, or new churches out in the countryside, making long speeches surrounded with Korean church officials. The church, the country, the service to those people was their life...but not mine.

I learned to love some of the food and parts of the culture, but every time we'd see an American TV show on the US military channel, I would long for that far distant country that was supposedly my own. The Korean toys and dolls of 1968 were so poor and uninteresting, and the clothes were so odd when I compared them to the Sears catalog my grandmother would send us every six months. My siblings and I would dream of chocolate ice cream, American hamburgers, real pizza with real cheese, everything American. In the process, I began to resent the fact that I was stuck in a third world country while my cousins got to have what I thought, was the best of everything.

Only years later did I come to realize how shameful my attitude had been, how much of a blessing it was to experience another country, to have the opportunity to learn another language and to have the honor of being a part of the work of God. I had a rich and extraordinary childhood, but in the cold winters with the air thick with the smell of rotten fish from the open markets, with roads full of frozen mud puddles and lined with beggars, I just couldn't see it.

Now I am so thankful that God gave me that past, and I feel a sense of grief when I see others who have come to the US, whose hearts and minds still cling to their countries and refuse to learn the beautiful lessons that God has for them here. I was a selfish child who wanted what I couldn't have, and I've tried my best to make sure my children never hold those attitudes no matter where we've lived. I just wish others who have it so easy could understand.

Discipline - It's Not About the Cookies!

We've probably all seen it in shopping centers and supermarkets. The bedraggled mother with a whining, demanding child that won't stop complaining. She pushes her cart through the store with a glazed look in her eyes, staring at something in the distance as her tear-stained, candy-stained, booger-stained screaming bundle of joy lets everyone know how miserable/mad/tired/hungry/unloved he or she feels. Most of us walk by and try to pretend we don't notice, but I for one wish she would just do something!

Disciplining a child can be tricky if you don't know what you're trying to accomplish. Basically what you want is a child who knows how to control his emotions and behave in a courteous and respectful manner, while at the same time enjoying the fun of being a child. What many mothers get confused with is trying to discipline their child for their actions more than for their attitudes.

"Don't eat those cookies, they're for dessert!" Meanwhile his little mouth waters as you walk out the kitchen door to answer the phone. You know of course what happens. When you walk back in and see the trail of chocolate chips and cookie crumbs on the counter and a guilty look on his face, what do you do?

A. Scold him, maybe smack his hand for disobeying you, and make him sit on the sofa alone with no TV for a few minutes
B. Ask him, "Why did you do that? I told you not to do that!" and then clean up his mess as he runs off to hide
C. Laugh at how cute he looks with his guilty expression and crumbs all over his face, which makes him laugh too

As much as I wanted to do C, I always stuck to A. I know, I know it sounds so mean, just for a few cookies, and after all they're just precious little children...

But I had a reason to be tough on cookie offenders. Behind the simple act of eating the forbidden food, was also a test of how far can I push Mommy? Does she really mean what she says? Do I have to obey her ALL of the time? Can I use my adorableness to get away with minor crimes and manipulate her in the future? Of course they're not all thinking these deep thoughts, but they are feeling them without a doubt. Your children will draw conclusions about you and about your dependability as the authority over them based on how you enforce your boundaries.

The whole reason for the quick and forceful reaction on my part was to get his attention that Mommy's authority is not to be messed with. It really had nothing to do with the cookies themselves, it had to do with making sure that an attitude of Me vs. Mom wouldn't begin. It's either I stay within Mommy's boundaries where it's safe, or I get hurt. To ensure that they want to please you and stay close to you, the next step after discipline, is absolutely essential:

Once you know they're sorry for what they've done, they're not angry that you disciplined them (if they are, they'll need another dose of discipline - but that's for another blog post), they're feeling humbled and repentant and vulnerable, that's when you hold them close, give them plenty of kisses and kind words and tell them that you love them, BUT, you do this because you want them to grow up right. Make sure they say they're sorry, then make sure you tell them you forgive them. And then it's all forgotten, just like God treats us! It's back to normal, playing, working laughing and getting ready for Daddy to come home.

It doesn't hurt to make sure they get an extra big cookie once it's time for dessert - after all, it's not about the cookies!

Moms and Playtime

Being a mom is such a combination of adjectives! Fun, exhausting, fulfilling, frustrating, draining, enriching...if you're a mom, you know what I mean. But one thing is certain. It's a big responsibility that should never be taken lightly. You are the primary source of education for your child. They learn more than their ABC's, but how to see the world around them. You teach them how to laugh, how to feel empathy for others, how to show kindness, how to value hard work, how to appreciate good food, a healthy life-style, a happy loving family - or conversely, you can easily teach the opposite of all of these. They do come into this world with their own unique personality and set of talents, but it's you that shapes their character. Not so much with lessons and explanations, although those are very important, but mostly by example.

What's the best time to teach your little ones? Playtime! Playing blocks, dolls or super-heroes with them can actually help you understand their world the way they see it, and help shape that view to be a healthy, fear-free one. Here are some great play tips for 3-8 year-olds that can probably extend to older years as well with some modifications.

!. Let them choose what they want to play (soldiers, doctors, fairy princesses, ballerinas, garbage men...) and let them start with you fully engaged in play.

2. Don't laugh at them or make fun of the crazy imaginative scenarios they choose, e.g. They want you to be the super-mommy who has the power to destroy bad guys with the remote control, and then zap a chocolate cake into existence with the same weapon. Have fun with it, play along and act like you think their idea was great.

3. Start looking for clues about their fears and their frustrations as they play. You will be able to sense how badly they want to be a hero, if their imaginary villain makes them angry or if it's just plain fun to pretend they're winning a battle. For girls you'll be able to see if she wants to be a music star and be admired by everyone, or be a teacher and order her students (probably you and all her stuffed animals) around.

4. Gently guide playtime to help them deal with their imaginary "problems" in healthy, positive ways without completely taking over. Let them feel like they have a part in the decision on what direction playtime takes. A boy who is pretending to be a warrior may really need to feel like a hero. Don't worry that as he swings around his sword and wants to plunge it into the giant Barney toy, that he'll grow up to be a mass murderer! He needs to believe that he is strong and can handle any threat in his life. Make sure, however that he is not acting out frustration or anger, because that shows he has underlying issues of aggression that you will have to help him overcome. Let him win the battle, but then produce another scenario where he'll need to show compassion or kindness, and be a hero for doing that as well.

5. Enthusiastically praise your child for their imagined conquests and achievements. They must always be the smartest, strongest, most amazing children you ever knew in your whole life! But then help to balance the scales if you noticed some negative attitudes. The girl who is dying to be the next Hannah Montana may need some reassurance that she is beautiful for who she is and doesn't need to compete with a TV personality. Go overboard and show her that she is even better than that in your eyes.

Parents who understand the value of playtime, the insights they can gain into their child's mind, and the effectiveness of play as a time to teach and guide, can cut off harmful attitudes and insecurities at the root, long before they have a chance to grow. Your child will carry those wonderful memories of playtime with you for the rest of his or her life. Don't let these years pass you by without investing in good, fun play!

Little lambs in a hostile world

Sometimes Mark and I take a walk down to the playground nearby to kick around his soccer ball, and I wonder about the little children I see so often unsupervised. It's as if their parents just want them out of the house, and by the way they behave, you can tell that they don't get much attention inside the house either. But they're out there, an open target for anyone who would want to take advantage of these young lives, sad to say.

On the other hand, you can always tell who the children are that are well loved and cared for. They have their moms hovering around like helicopters, watching every move, shouting encouragement and praises when they reach the top of the slide, and warning them to remember to play nice with the others. They bring a pack of juice, and wet wipes for their hands, and an extra sweater, and keep a first aid kit in the car. They may look overprotective, but reality demands that if you want to be a good parent these days, you protect.

And then there were the little girls who were playing alone, one about 8 watching over her little sister of about 5. The other moms were asking each other who they belonged to, and ended up having to help the girls tie a shoe and reach the water fountain for a drink. Where was their mother, and why did she think it was safe to let them wander through the neighborhood alone? Doesn't she watch the evening news? We watched them walk off in the direction of what we hoped was their home, hand in hand, dirty and the smallest one crying because she had fallen and hurt herself. Two little defenseless lambs, so vulnerable.

The age for having children to help tend the farm and let them run wild through the fields when work is done, has long gone. The dangers for children generations ago lay mostly in diseases, hunger and the strain of hard labor. Today our children face the danger of people who would willingly commit violence against them. Thankfully there are still many good hearted and honest people who wouldn't dare hurt a child. But who are they and where are they, is not so easy to answer.

For those who want to have children, your job as their protector is a serious one. You are bringing them into a hostile world and if you are not prepared to fight for their safety, it would be better for you not to have them at all. For those of you who do have children, you have precious lives entrusted to you. Take good care that they make it through their childhood with their innocence intact.

The Gift of Intuition

Women are different than men. (I figured that one out some time ago, even though there are still a few who argue that it's all just a difference in bodily functions.) Women have a tendency to be more emotional in their responses than men, and to make emotionally based decisions, which like it or not, gets us into a lot of trouble and helps to perpetuate the idea that we are untrustworthy and unstable. Men on the other hand can much more easily make cold calculating decisions than we do, and there's a downside to that as well because they can get into trouble for being insensitive and thoughtless. We each have our strengths, and though following emotions can wreak havoc, there is something very positive to be said about them, if used the way God intended.

Across centuries and cultures, it has always been women who were the ones who nurtured and raised families, who were at the heart of the home. It has been women who were primarily blessed with the challenge of being the interpreter of baby talk, understanding the cries in the middle of the night that meant either fear, hunger, pain or a poopy diaper. Women have had to be the negotiators of toddlers who can't understand why they have to share, but do understand a well offered bribe of cookies if they behave well. Women have had to read the worried looks on their teenage daughter's faces, harvest information from their son's silent stares, offer love and support to their stressed-out husbands without appearing to be preachy or insulting, and have just the right kind of meal on the table to warm the hearts of the grumpiest household. Women have had to fine-tune the art of soothing and easing and uplifting the emotions of their families from generation to generation, so that we all could get on with the daily battles of life.

Men often deal with the obvious tangible problems that arise, and only after years of marriage to a wise woman, learn to look deeper. Women, on the other hand, are more tuned-in to problems that are brewing under the surface: the sadness, the fears, the unspoken pain, and are gifted with the ability to bring healing before anyone even realizes that healing is needed. Call it intuition, or sensitivity to the Holy Spirit, the world would be a very bleak place without this gift that women have.

Next time you feel like criticizing women for being too emotional, thank the Lord above that He made us this way!

Bozos and the Human Condition

I am on the brink of taking my washing machine repairman to court. I really don't want to have to do that, but if it's the only way to fix the damage he did to my property, then I'll do it. By the way if anyone needs repairs, DON'T use the Appliance Service Company run by Josh Cohen in Houston, Texas! They may fix your machines, but if they do anything wrong they'll squirm out of taking responsibility. I know, i've been trying to get them to keep their promise to fix their mess since January.

The problem isn't that they deny that they destroyed a patch of the concrete on my back porch, or that they are not polite to me over the phone and call me "Ma'am" and say their boss will get right back to me as soon as he's available. They've apologized, they've vowed that they have a good reputation for righting any wrongs they've done. They even sent the repairman Jason, back to look at what he'd done and promise to be back the next week to clean it up (it can't be cleaned, it has to be repaired). They're pleasant, courteous, and they lie through their teeth. Josh has only spoken to me once - though I've left literally dozens of messages for him over the last three months. Jason has never appeared to clean up the mess as he promised, breaking 3 different appointments that he had made. I've gone to the trouble of providing a very reasonable estimate from another company to fix the problem, and guess what? Just ten minutes ago I talked to one of the guys who answered the phone who told me, "Yeah, Josh is kinda busy right now, but he'll get right back to you as soon as possible." Translation-"Yeah, right lady, bug off, you ain't getting any money out of us!"

So now I'm in the uncomfortable place of having to file a legal complaint against these bozos and I don't like it one bit, but I like the bright six foot wide acid stain on my concrete even less. So unless the fear of God and hellfire and brimstone doesn't overtake Mr. Cohen to have a change of heart and pay me what is due (which I heartily pray for every day), I will have to see them in front of a judge in the county courthouse.

And now for the lesson of the day: We have all committed the sin of being a bozo - admit it, it's true. There have been too many times that we didn't want to own up to our mistakes, when we wouldn't make restoration for the harm we did to other people. If there was an easy way out of a problem, we'd take it, if we could just ignore it in the hopes that it would go away, we would. Human nature always wants a free ride, and when we can get it, we sigh in relief that we weren't caught. But when we are the ones who are harmed, we can be the most self righteous, condemning people on earth. I don't want to be either, because as much as I can't stand irresponsible people, I can neither stand people who look down their noses in superiority. So from one self-confessed (former) bozo to another: Josh Cohen, you're getting sued!