Waiting for the Light

Yesterday was the shortest day of the year. Today, with less than nine hours of daylight, will also be very short, but we've turned the corner. After months of increasing darkness we are turning toward the light. Longing for light seems to be rampant. In recent days light has come up in a wide variety of conversations:

• I have heard a number of people discussing the "Christmas Morning Rules" also known as "How early can the day start?" Parents want the tree lit, everyone properly garbed (though definitions differ.) One 8th grade boy gave me his Christmas morning formula this week. It was elaborate and involved sunrise, Christmas movies, collusion with siblings, and a dawning awareness of the joy of giving as this year he bought gifts for parents and siblings with money he had earned and saved. 
• I discussed the hopes and fears of motherhood with a young woman whose first-born child will soon see the light of day. She is filled with joy and anticipation but also fear that she isn't ready. I could only reassure her that the child would help to show her the way. 
• A friend who is currently living and working in the southern hemisphere is musing on her blog about Christmas in the "summer." She is a bit befuddled by the long days after spending most of her life with dark and snowy Christmases.
• As I drive up and down the streets of my town I enjoy the lights people have strung on trees and eaves and around windows. I love the inflatables lit from inside and the painted wooden cut-outs illuminated with spotlights. The light poles downtown are festooned with lamps, just for the season.
• Biblical accounts of the birth of Christ tell of angels appearing to shepherds with the glory of the Lord shining around them, and highlight the star that led the Magi to the manger.
• My new home also has gifts of lights. At the entrances are lights with motion detectors which turn on the light as I approach. In fact, as soon as I open the door from the garage the light begins to shine. Once inside, the hallway is also equipped with motion detectors so that I can step out without wondering what awaits me in the dark. 
• The human eye can see the light of a single candle in full dark from a distance of 3.6 miles.
• John, the brilliant poet of the Gospel writes, "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it." Joseph Mohr, writer of the beloved hymn Silent Night, refers to the baby as "love's pure light."

Light is nearly always welcomed. It brings comfort, joy, relief from fear, sight, information, protection, and hope. Light fulfills our hopes. It is a fitting metaphor for the Christ child, and the Risen Christ to come. 

Tossing a Wrench in the Wish Machine

The WISH MACHINE is running at maximum capacity. My inbox is more inundated than ever before the call to buy this or that for this or that bargain price or to get free shipping or some accompanying extra. The sidebars of my inbox are perfectly attuned to my desires, and the commercials on television make me long for a) chocolate, b) the good old days, or c) a magical Christmas surprise.

It might be a good time to share a few lessons in debunking advertising with your children. Give them a few basic instructions and then sit down to pick apart the commercials. You will have done a lot to slow down the wish machine, whose primary purpose is to make you feel bad so that they can sell you something to make you feel good. Here are the basics*:

• The Weasel Claim: this ad ALMOST says what you heard, but with qualifiers: Leaves your dishes virtually spotless. In other words, not actually spotless.
• The Unfinished Claim: this ad promises you MORE: Our product will save you more. More what? More money, more time, more anxiety?
• We're Unique: There's nothing else like it. This implies that is superior but the product may only sport a minor difference. Perhaps there are many things like it but this is the only place you can get it in this color. 
• Water is Wet: makes a claim true for any product of its kind. 
• So What?: Something true is stated but it doesn't give any real advantage over another brand. Brand X has twice as much of something - but do you need it? Can your body absorb it?
• The Celebrity Testimonial: Just because someone famous says it's good doesn't mean that they actually use it or that it works. 
• The Scientific Claim: The use of numbers to sound authoritative. "Wonder Bread builds strong bodies 12 ways." What ways? How can that be proven. And so on. . .
• Compliment the Consumer: "For the discriminating diner" or the "person who knows quality".
• The Rhetorical Question: Asks a question that really has no bearing on the product's quality: "Don't you wish you had a peaches and cream complexion?" tells you nothing about the product.

How your kids respond to the "Wish Machine" will impact their later happiness a great deal. This is nothing new. Even the Old Testament contains reminders to hope for what is real and good. The write of Ecclesiastes goes on and on about chasing after things that will not satisfy. 

There is no easier time than Christmas to get caught up in wishing for things that will not make you happy or more satisfied.  Depending on which source you read, your kids are exposed to between 247-3000 marketing messages a day from the wish machine. Even if it's the lowest figure, 247 messages is a lot. Fortunately, there is also no better time for getting wrapped up in things that will last: the Christ child, your family, holiday traditions, giving to others.How many messages about the child, the family, the meaning of the season do they hear? 

Building awareness is one of our jobs as parents. Teaching them to look both ways before they cross the street and teaching them not to hunger for things that won't satisfy them are just a couple of the privileges of being parents. So go - tear apart a few commercials and then go and make some holiday traditions. You'll enjoy it all!

*You can read about these in more detail at http://www.hartnell.edu/faculty/dorzech/15d/Advertising%20techniques.pdf.

To BE Grateful

In my own life there are many things for which I have expressed thanks, and then forgotten: gifts, favors, blessings, compliments, each appreciated in the moment, and then stored away in some distant compartment of my memory and virtually forgotten. Sometimes I remember the gift, but not the giver. 

Other times I remember the giver, but not the gift. I can still tell you who was at my wedding, but not what they gave me. Likewise, I can also tell you who stuck with me through the unraveling of that same marriage, but not be able to detail all the specific ways they supported me.

There are also many blessings that I simply take for granted: clean water, a roof over my head, friends and family, freedom of speech, the ability to read, sufficient food, electricity; the list goes on and on. It is a character hazard of being born in the wealthiest country in the world. 

The perennial Thanksgiving hymn Now Thank We All Our God begins with the words of its title, and then goes on to finish the thought: "with hearts and hands and voices." Expressing gratitude is significantly more complex than the mandatory please and thank yous of good manners. It is a commitment akin to learning to play an instrument or training to run a marathon. You can't flip a switch and become a grateful person; you have to live into it.

So how does one go about living into it, to thanking God with heart, hands and voice?  I love these words from Thomas Merton:

"To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything He has given us - and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gift of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him.

Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful person knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by experience. And that is what makes all the difference."

Experience God and you will know gratitude. Look for God's loving work in the world everywhere and ascribe all that is good to God and you will live into gratitude. And all whom you encounter will be a little more grateful too, especially your children.

Your children will not learn of God's goodness through your telling of it (though that will help to point them in the right direction) but rather through their own experience. Help them to experience God by teaching them to recognize their blessings, their gifts, and the love behind those gifts. Make gratitude as least as much a part of your Thanksgiving as turkey, stuffing, cranberries, potatoes, pie and football.

Even if it is not your family’s practice to give thanks before or after meals, do so on this day. Even if you are unaccustomed to free and unscripted prayer, use this occasion for a popcorn prayer – where every person gathered for this special meal shares his or her awareness of a blessing.  Baby steps toward a life of gratitude. Thank God.

The Season of Holidays

My Christmas cactus is in full bloom. A bit ahead of schedule, but happily reminding me that the season of holidays is upon us.

I am not a good plant person so the fact that this cactus has survived in spite of me, and bloomed for a second year, gives me great joy. It's an old plant, one that my mother has tended for many years.

As I think about hope and the coming holidays, and the impact they have on your children and your families, I am struck by my cactus and how perfectly it captures so many seasonal themes: waiting, hoping, joy, new life, change of seasons, gift.

The first buds will appear as the days shorten and the nights lengthen. You'll first see tiny dots of color on the ends of the plant. You may not even be positive they are buds for several days. And even when you are certain, it will be hard to believe they can possibly produce the large flowers the plant will eventually sport. Can you see that tiny spot of pink right in the center of the photo? That bud is probably two weeks from the full bloom you see just to the left of it. Children will be fascinated to watch it change. And the change is visible almost daily. In many ways it is like waiting for a child to be born. Great anticipation, coupled with the knowledge that there is nothing to be done to hasten or slow the progress. It has its own life, its own schedule. It is outside of your control, yet you can love it, tend it, watch it and water it, and see it change almost before your very eyes. It is exciting to watch and wait.

Eventually the bud will look like the one in the center of this photo. It is still so filled with potential: we know that the bud in the center will eventually become the blossom on the left, but we can also recognize its beauty in the moment. If all you ever got to see was the tightly furled bud, the contrast of the pink and green would still be a thing of beauty. Unique.  No two blossoms are ever exactly the same.

So I commend the Christmas cactus to you as a tool for teaching yourself and your children the rhythms of life, for teaching hope. It can slow life down to a natural pace. It can remind us that the true joys of this season are all tied up in that first gift of the Child. It adds a time of hope to our seasons. Hope that combines waiting with faith. There is no instant gratification. It is not the stuff of department store Santas who make promises they aren't bound to keep. Rather, it is the expectation that change will come, and faith that what will come will be good.

That They May Know Hope

I awoke this morning to the weather report saying it was snowing just west of the Twin Cities. I have recently moved from a land of climate (Texas) to a land of four seasons (Minnesota). I interviewed here in the summer, but by the time an offer was extended and accepted, and all my worldly possessions were packed and loaded and moved, fall had arrived. I've been here almost six weeks now, and while it is technically still fall, my tree has shed its leaves, and there is snow within 100 miles. Winter is not far off.

I grew up with seasons, and I am enjoying this transition. As a child, knowing nothing but the drama of four seasons, it never occurred to me that Jesus actually lived in a land with climate. The seasons there were more defined by the planting and harvest patterns and the religious observances and transitions of the moon, than by a dramatic change in the weather.

Wherever you live, these days life is more climate-controlled, and regardless of where your child is growing up, her seasons may be more defined by what sport is being played or what holiday is being marketed than by the actual weather/climate. It is only in extreme heat or cold that children are really aware of the weather at all. Life is mostly a comfy 68-78 degrees Fahrenheit for them.

So what marks their seasons? I think the school year-summer divide marks two seasons for most kids. And the Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas triple holiday end of year excitement is perhaps a season for them. And maybe, for some kids, the Spring break through the end of the school year is a kind of mini-season of restlessness. I'm not sure. And I don't know if it matters. But I cannot help but wonder if we create a false sense of the passage of time when we exchange seasons for climate.

There was a time when kids were continually told to slow down, and wait for adulthood. These days I hear frequent laments about adult children still living at home, engaging in a kind of Peter Pan perpetual childhood. I think that there needs to be a reasonable amount of urgency, as well as some enforced waiting in our children's lives. It is a fact of life that there are natural seasons across a lifetime. We parents may not be able to rely on the natural rhythms of seasons and harvests to reinforce that lesson.

The Psalms frequently make mention of the passage of time. They remind me why we need to recognize the rhythms of life:

"Lord, how long will I live? When will I die? Tell me how soon my life will end. How short you have made my life! In your sight my lifetime seems nothing. Indeed every living being is no more than a puff of wind,no more than a shadow. All we do is for nothing; we gather wealth, but don't know who will get it. What, then, can I hope for, Lord? I put my hope in you."          Psalm 39:4-7 (GNT)

In the context of our American culture, this may seem a bit depressing, but in the end it is about hope. And hope is perhaps more needful for our children than at any time in the past. As we approach the "season" of holidays, perhaps we can think of ways to make them more meaningful. Make them better milestones for children who have lost many of the natural milestones of the seasons -- that they may know hope.

Fudge and Thin Mints: more than just calories

I wanted to do something really special, but I settled for making fudge. And it didn't even turn out that well but I sold those 36 pieces of fudge for $12 at the annual Candy Sale last week. Other people contributed candy and cookies and snack mixes which we sold for one, two or three dollars per plate or bag, and at the end of the day, with only three plates leftover we had  $345 for our cause. Little things really do add up.

Years ago, four girl scouts and two mothers sat outside an upscale grocery store as the sun went down and the evening got colder. An elegantly dressed woman stopped at the table and said "I will buy some on the way out" and her husband leaned in and with a twinkle in his eye whispered, "She really will!"

And so we waited, hoping for one more sale though we were eager to go home. As promised, the elegant lady returned and stood regally before our card table. She said, "Now I will buy one box from each of you if you will solemnly promise that, when you are grown-ups, and if you can afford it, you will always buy a box of cookies when asked by another girl scout." The girls, somewhat awed by her stern and commanding presence, all nodded solemnly or offered a timid "Yes Ma'am" and they each sold her a box of cookies. As the woman walked away, another grocery shopper asked the girls if they knew who she was. They  didn't (and neither did we mothers) but it turned out that she was Luci Baines Johnson Turpin, a famous Austinite who was once a Girl Scout herself, and the daughter of the President of the United States, Lyndon Baines Johnson.

I think that all of us sometimes want to do big, important things. We want to break records, save lives, or change the world. We get overwhelmed by the unmet needs and unsolvable problems that surround us and we stew about what we could possibly do. Often, in our desire to do something big, we end up doing nothing at all. What a terrible waste of our passion and compassion!

It is probably more important to simply act where and as we can. Our actions will ripple outward. My small batch of fudge added to the gifts of others made a substantial contribution to a good cause. Luci Baines Johnson's stern speech to four little girls inspired all of them (and their mothers) to help out where and how they can - and they are now spread out across five states and six professions doing good where and as they can.

Every good deed is an act of faith. We cannot see where it will go, who it will inspire, or what future act of kindness will follow from what we have done. So do what you can and trust that it will ripple outward and create compounded goodness. Little things not only add up, when done in love they multiply!

Great Expectations

Do you start each day with an expectation of how the day will go? Do you know that on Mondays it's harder to find a parking spot and it all goes downhill from there? Do you know that your boss is out of town and it's going to be a relaxed day because of that? Or that you have to meet with your most annoying student or most demanding client so the day is just going to stink? Do you rank your expectations? I do. I can expect anything from Fabulous (10) or Horrid (0) or maybe something in-between.

Educators used to talk about the self-fulfilling prophecy theory a lot. This theory asserts that our
expectations change our behavior. As in, if you believe you will fail, you will fail. There have been many, many studies, including the famous one where teachers were told that certain randomly selected students were expected to really "blossom" during the coming school year. The randomly chosen students ended the year showing significant improvement.

I believe that most of the time I get exactly what I expect. If I expect kids to be bored with today's lesson, they will most likely be bored. If I expect to enjoy an event, I most likely will. If I expect this child or that parent to give me a hard time, chances are they will.

Take out your expectations for your own children and look at them. What do you expect from your child? Do you expect them to be loving and kind and gentle? Do you expect them to make you proud or to disappoint you? Your expectations are impacting your child's behavior even if you aren't saying them aloud. Wow. That's as magical as eyes in the back of your head.  If I tell a child repeatedly that she is no good, you can bet that she will turn out that way. Your expectations will have been met. What if you tell the child that he is someone special, created in the image of God, and that he is going to do something that is important someday? Well, I believe he will meet your expectations!

So, back to ranking your expectations for the day, I want to suggest a little experiment. Tonight, before you go to bed, take a post-it note and write down your most realistic expectation of tomorrow (0-10 with 10 being best). When you go to bed tomorrow night, make note of how the day actually went and then try to predict the following day. Pick your number, increase it by one, and write it on another post-it and see if adjusting your expectation will adjust your outcome. If you're a journal-keeper, you will be able to have fun with this for several weeks. If this experiment persuades you that there's something to this idea, then start setting some good expectations around your kids. Expect them to blossom, to surprise, even to amaze you. They will.