Interfaith Parenting

When I was pregnant the first time, I didn't take a pregnancy test for two weeks because I was afraid to confirm that I was going to be a parent. I was too young, too recently married, too far from my family to have a baby.

But we survived our first child, as well as her three subsequent siblings.

We took them to church. We stood in front of our congregations and promised to raise them in the Christian faith. We did AWANA and VBS. We took the Christian parenting class.

Then things changed. Jason is no longer a believer. It took us a while to talk to the kids about this change, but at this point, they all know. And while it was one thing to ask the kids to continue to attend church when Jason was in school and working nights and was just "too tired" to go, it's quite another thing to ask this of them when it's not something that both of their parents do.

As a result, our kids have been attending church much less regularly.

This isn't a huge surprise. Generally speaking, if fathers don't attend church, their kids are far less likely to attend church.

So I'm kind of stuck. I could certainly force them to attend church with me. And when I see articles titled "How to Get Your Kids to go to Church and go to Heaven" (emphasis mine), it is certainly tempting to get with the forcing. Every time I ask the kids if they want to go to church with me and they say no, it's hard not to become upset or even angry. At them, for not wanting to go. At Jason, for making it easier for them to say no. At the Church, for not being absolutely irresistible to them. At me, for not being a better example of why we should go to services.

But as I've written before, this is just not something that I'm comfortable doing. I can't reconcile faith with obligation. No matter how much I want them to go to church, I even more want them to want to go to church. And even more than that, I want them to know Love.

So I try to do that gently. Curling up with them to watch a favorite show. Taking an interest in the things that give them pleasure. Speaking respectfully of other people in front of them, even when folks make me mad. Trying to answer their questions about my faith (and theirs) honestly.

It's my prayer that as they experience that love, they will find the source to be too compelling to ignore.

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Do your kids attend church with you? Do you give them a choice or if you don't have kids, were you given a choice when you were young? What are some ways that you model love to your children or to the kids that you might interact with?

What Was I Thinking?

In our huge basement clean out, we stumbled up the following picture. It was taken about 3 minutes after I gave birth to our youngest daughter and about 2 days before I was pregnant with our fourth. The time-line on that might be a little fuzzy. Things are kind of a blur from those days.

Anyway, I'd love for you to tell me what was going through the brain of absolutely anyone in this picture.

Enjoy. Not everyone gets to have a family melt-down captured on film forever. (For the record, we did not have to pay for this picture. Imagine - we got this for FREE. Jealous much?)

ETA: Reader Michael Mock sent me the following. I am HOWLING!

Post at Provoketive.com

You may have seen the video of the dad who shoots his daughter's laptop to teach her a lesson. Today over at Provoketive, I'm talking about why I don't like it and why I think we need to examine our parenting in this digital age.

I'd love it if you'd head over and share your thoughts!

The Kid's Table

The old card table that never got used for card games and the folding chairs that had been patched with duct tape that scratches your back were pulled out so the cobwebs could be cleaned off of them. Covered in plastic instead of cloth, so spills could be easily managed. Styrofoam plates and paper cups so nothing could be broken. Set up near enough to the the adults so there could be help with cutting the turkey, but far enough away that the grown-ups could talk about Important Things (tm) without interruption and we could just giggle about fart jokes.

The kid's table.

Now I'm at the adult table. We have the hard, wooden seats that make our older backs ache if we sit in them too long. We get to have the beautiful, festive tablecloth, but there are faint stains that won't wash out on it from spills of years past. We get to use the real dishes and and glasses, but you can see the occasional chip in the dishes and at least one glass is broken each year. Our adult conversation still has fart jokes, but now we also have to tiptoe around uncomfortable subjects, and sometimes address them head-on.

The kiddie table gives you a sense of security. When we're there, nothing sticks or stains. Nothing can hurt us. There's nothing but laughter.

At the adult table, we find out that our mistakes can have long-term consequences. That things can be broken, but they can still serve a purpose. That even in the midst of discomfort, there can still be humor.

The kiddie table can feel like it provides safety. At some point we move from that secure feeling to needing to be the ones providing that security, regardless of our feelings. In the midst of the cold reality, we must provide that refuge for those more vulnerable.

But I believe there will come a day when we will all gather at one table with our Father and we will not only feel safe, but we will be safe.

And on that day, all of his children will give thanks.

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Do you have any fond memories of the kid's table from holidays past? 


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Today I'm linking up with Joy in this Journey for Life: Unmasked where we share life openly. Click here to see the other posts and share your own!

I Kissed Dating (My Husband) Goodbye

Jason and I have never been very much for dating. When we first got together, we were a long-distance couple. We didn't see each other very often (about every four to six weeks), so when we were together, we chose to stay in. When we married, we were on completely different shifts, me student teaching bright and early in the morning and him working retail until late at night. We then moved, got pregnant, moved again, got pregnant three more times in under three years, and found that staying home was way easier (and cheaper) than trying to find a babysitter for four young kids.

One of our best dates

But finding babysitters and time are just excuses. The real reason that we don't date is because we are very bad at it. We will occasionally have a nice time out with just the two of us, but those are the exceptions. Our bad dates tend to be atrocious. I submit the following:

• We were on vacation. My parents stayed with the kids while we went to see Spiderman 3 (so there's already THAT). We didn't pay attention to our exit number and got completely lost when we came home. Added probably 3 hours to our trip. Massive thunderstorm, screaming at each other, all within about one mile of the hotel the whole time.
• We decided that we really wanted to attend the Rally To Restore Sanity. Got there in (what we thought was) plenty of time to take the Metro to DC and see our two favorite satirists. Were hours late, saw none of the rally, had to walk for hours trying to find a place to pee, then walked the entirely wrong direction to find dinner and ended up walking an additional 30 or so blocks out of our way. Pissed off my in-laws because we were getting back about 6 hours late and wouldn't be able to pick up our kids at the right time. Also, he slept the entire drive to DC and I slept the entire drive home.
• First night out after Jason graduated. Got all fancied up for a night out. Received a call from our daughter about 15 minutes after we left that her brother had just yakked everywhere and we needed to come home. Grabbed Chinese from our favorite restaurant on our way home, only to discover that it had new owners who make the worst food ever.
• Another vacation mishap. We were drawing a nice, romantic hot tub to set the mood for a night of marital relations. Had just entered the bubbles when the single most terrifying, obnoxious sound happened. The hotel's fire alarm was going off.
• Last Friday Jason had the day off. After weeks of travel and weekends that were entirely too full to really have any quality time, we had a whole day together while the kids were in school. We went out to lunch. Terrible service, overpriced meal, and the topper? Jason's margarita had an olive garnish. An olive. In a margarita. 

So we've decided that Josh Harris was right after all and we're going to kiss dating goodbye.

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Tell me about your worst date. Or tell me about your best date. It's okay, I promise I won't get THAT jealous.

JCPenney and Insidious Sexism

On Wednesday, social media was alight with this ghastly long-sleeve tee from JCPenney:

If you can't read it, it says, "I'm too pretty to do homework so my brother has to do it for me."
The product description says, "Who has time for homework when there's a new Justin Bieber album out?"

Mom bloggers, dad bloggers, as well as many people with significantly larger brains than the marketing folks at JCPenney were quick to flood them with requests to remove the shirt, and to their credit, they did indeed take it down. (Of course, this gem is still available. *sigh*)

My initial response to this was rage. Who the hell approved this hot mess? I mean, really, who? Because I'd like to smack them.

Later, a group of us tried some humor and wisdom with the hashtag #PutThatOnATShirtJCPenney. These are some of my favorites (and yes, I totally included one of my own):

There were a number of additional suggestions, including quotes from Margaret Mead, Eleanor Roosevelt, Tina Fey, and Anne Frank, among others. It was a good time and I recommend giving it a look-see.

In the midst of this conversation, my friend Preston Yancey pointed out this delight, a stripper pole for kids (yeah, you probably don't wanna' click on the link). Now don't get me wrong. This is appalling. It's gross and 100% inappropriate. 

But it doesn't bother me like the t-shirt.

See, that's easy sexism to spot. I see "kiddie stripper pole" and say, "Hey daughters, don't let your highest aspiration be stripperdom." Brush the hands and we're done. Certainly there are more nuanced discussions about it to have, but at face value, everyone can point to that and say, "Sexist and inappropriate."

The t-shirt is a bit more tricky.

After all, being pretty isn't a bad thing. I can't very well point to the t-shirt and say, "Don't be pretty!" That's silly. My daughters ARE pretty.

And so girls see this and while it might stir something "off" in them, they can't place their finger on it. As a result, they sit quietly by or laugh at it and let its message wash over them. The message that looks matter more than brains. The message that boys are smarter than girls. The message that intellect and appearance are inextricably linked (and that if one rises, the other falls). The message that boys are just here to be manipulated. The message that your sexuality is what will get you ahead.

These messages and hundreds just like them attack my children every day. Sometimes they're boulders hurling at them in an avalanche and they can see them coming, but more often, they're small little erosive events that wear away at their self-worth, leaving them feeling less than the person they should be.

And when we stay silent, we let it happen. When we feel as though we're obligated to choose between one kind of exploitation of women and another, we let it happen. When we make excuses or suggest that it's no big deal, we let it happen.

In the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. There are far worse ways that women are exploited all the time. But I cannot stand by and watch my children's ability to see their value be worn away by the erosion of insidious sexism.

I'm too pretty and smart to let that happen.

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What examples of sexism have you seen recently that you were tempted to brush off? How do you teach your kids or yourself to recognize it when you see it?

What I Did This August

Hello! I'm promise, I'm not a reanimated corpse, it's the real me, back to bring you more of my parentheses-filled writing!

First, I have to give a huge (!!!!) thanks to the 25 folks who guest posted last month. Seriously, twenty-five people agreed to help fill in while I was taking my break. That is absolutely ridiculous. What was even more amazing was that they stepped up and presented quality content here. I am genuinely grateful to each person who donated their work to me to help keep things afloat during my month off. And not just afloat, but like a luxury cruise-liner. I could gush for pages about this, but for reals, know that your generosity was deeply appreciated by this blogger. And if you missed any of the posts last month, be sure to go back and check them out, because there are all kinds of tasty nuggets for your brain and your soul contained within.

So! What was I up to in August? I spent a lot of time working on editing the Not Alone book. The stories are tremendously poignant and I hope through editing, we've made them even stronger. I'm thrilled to announce that my blogging friend Elizabeth Esther will be contributing the foreword to the book. Again, I am blown away by the kindness that I've been shown through this project. People have poured out hurts, fears, abuses, doubts - they have made themselves incredibly vulnerable. In case you missed my post, know that you can head over here to pre-order. The book will release on October 1.

Because one book project is simply not enough, I also pitched a new community book idea to Jonathan Brink over at Civitas Press. We're banging out some details right now, but I look forward to sharing more about that with you shortly. If you've ever been afraid of something, you'll want to stay tuned. (It's not a book about spiders. Or clowns. Or killer robots. So you can breathe a bit easier.) I've also got another e-book on the brain and have started to sketch that out. More about that later as well.

I also had a lovely vacation with my parents. Sadly Jason was unable to join us (sob!), but we did have a wonderful time. I had a great lunch with my mom, some heated (but good!) discussions with my dad, some relaxing time at the pool, a chance to read Tina Fey's Bossypants (affiliate link) and 20 pounds of chocolate covered sunflower seeds. It was a good vacation.

I've also had a busy month with the band. Lots of great gigs and time with some of my favorite, non-relative folks. We've got a couple more weddings on the books and then a bit of a break. Well, for most of us. Our lead male vocalist is getting married, our lead female vocalist is back to another year of dental school and our bass player is expecting his third next month. So hooray for them! That said, I do love these folks. Lots of great car conversations in the driving to and from gigs, some that were so intense that I ended up getting pulled over for speeding! Thanks again, Officer Menendez for the warning. You, sir, are the rock star.

Family-wise, the kids have been back in school a couple of weeks. My oldest is in 8th grade and is playing with the high school marching band, so I've been able to relive my much younger days of Friday night football games. Love it. My son is in 5th grade, which means that he started at the middle school this year. He has made the adjustment well and made a friend the first day. What was cool was that it was a young man that my sister had wanted to introduce him to over the summer, but never worked out. Always a treat when that happens! My younger daughter is in 4th grade and is doing well. She likes her teacher and I think after the shock of 3rd grade, she's doing better this year. She's still a bit of a free spirit for the rigidity of school, but she's doing well. And my baby has entered 3rd grade. It's hard for me to imagine that my little boy is already into one of those defining grades of school, but there we have it! He also appears to be making a good adjustment to the new, more rigorous demands of third grade, and I am so grateful that he has a wonderful teacher to help him with that.

Jason is doing well at his new job. There is a lot more traveling than we thought, but we're thankful that he's got steady employment with a company that is absolutely solid. He seems to get along with his co-workers and that's always a plus! While I will miss him when he's gone, I'm still thankful that I have such a fantastic spouse who is so suited for me. Hooray for happy marriage stuff!

So I think that pretty much brings us up to the present. It's very good to be back and I thank you all for sticking around and being kind to my guests while I was gone. Lots of good stuff to come!

What were you up to this last month? Also, please feel free to include comments about how much you've missed me. Because I'm needy like that.

Family by Birth, Friends by Choice by Leigh Kramer

Leigh is another one of the contributors to the Not Alone book and for that I am profoundly thankful. But aside from that, Leigh is following her dreams all the way to Nashville and I admire her bravery so much. She is a lovely writer and I'm so glad to have a chance to share her writing with you today!

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It wasn't easy being the only girl amongst the boys on my mom's side of the family. Granted, I was not the sole granddaughter but with Clara and Emily missing most of our celebrations, it was up to me to represent.

For the most part, the boys overlooked the girl in their midst.

There are good memories, like the time we all danced the Super Bowl Shuffle in my grandparent's basement. But if you'd told me two decades ago that I'd someday enjoy spending time with my boy cousins and willingly hang out with them, I would have offered my patented death glare and promptly returned to my book.

Leigh and her cousins

I'm not sure when or how it happened. Maybe college did a number on me. As it turned out, I actually liked my boy cousins. And they liked me back!

It's amazing what happens when we grow up.

For instance, my cousin Adam and I have always had a love-hate relationship. He brought out my competitive juices more than any other person. I delighted in skewering him with the perfect put-down, taking familial teasing to a new level.

And now, it's less hate and more love. I regularly declare him to be one of my favorite cousins. (I tell all my cousins they're my favorite.) We couldn't be more opposite. He's younger, married, a “Chreaster,” and a Slayer fan. Despite those differences, we'd do anything for each other.

There's depth as well. We talk through the ups and downs of life and discuss our doubts and dreams.

Without these young men, I'm not sure how I would have processed the death of our cousin Scottie at age 22. To be able to reflect on our losses together has been healing. We are a family that tends to laugh and joke but our response during difficult times serves to strengthen our bond. I'll never forget sitting at Grandma's wake when Jon turned to me and thanked me for all I'd done during her final days, the way my support had helped him and the rest of the family.

We relate to each other as adults. Some married, some with children, some still in college. Now that I live out of state, I cherish our time together even more.

I don't tolerate my cousins; I love them. I never doubt they love me back and want only the best for me.

Not every family is as blessed as ours. I rarely hear of people excited to return for the annual family reunion. Ours reached 200 people this July. While I love catching up with my second and third cousins, I made sure to have quality time with my favorite boys first and foremost.

My 10 year old self might not have believed that one day Jon would let me pull him on the dance floor at a wedding or that I would be one of the first people Patrick called after the birth of his daughter or that Zach would stand taller than me.

I'm glad our pre-pubescent selves don't decide who to keep in the family. Otherwise, we'd all be missing out.

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In May 2010, Leigh Kramer intentionally uprooted her life in the Chicago suburbs by moving to Nashville in an effort to live more dependently on God.  She writes about life in the South, what God has been teaching her, and her ongoing quest for the perfect fried pickle. You can follow her adventures on Twitter (www.twitter.com/hopefulleigh) and her blog HopefulLeigh (http://www.leighkramer.com).











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Sisters, Different as Night and Day by Janet Oberholtzer

Janet is, without a doubt, my biggest running inspiration. That she is a gifted writer is just icing on the cake. I am so glad to have met her and I absolutely cannot wait to read her book this fall. She is an amazing woman and I encourage you to head over to her blog and check it out. But not until you've finished reading this wonderful post.

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I have four sisters ... three older and one younger.* As kids and as adults, we’ve had some great times together. Other times, I’ve wondered if there’s a big secret I’ll uncover someday about who my family truly is because I have so little in common with my sisters. (Obviously they are each individuals and have unique personalities, but for the sake of this post, I’m treating them as a unit.)
I grew up in a strict Mennonite home, where a popular pastime for most little girls is playing with dolls. My sisters enjoyed that ... I did not. I wanted to be out riding bike or doing cart wheels in the yard. (Having to wear a dress did not stop me) 

We each had a doll or two dressed in Mennonite clothes made by our mom. My sisters still talk fondly of their dolls (I think one or two still has theirs) but I don’t even remember what mine looked like. I’d help my sisters build ‘houses’ with chairs and blankets, but then I had no interest in cooking pretend meals or playing mommy. My sister would get annoyed and chant “we’ll never make a lady out of Janey.” 

As we grew up, learning how to cook and clean was a top priority. I failed miserably at both ... mostly because I knew when to disappear or I bribed one of my sisters into doing my jobs. Plus, the cooking disasters that happened when I was around rendered me useless in the kitchen. How was I to know that if I stood too close to the mixer one of my braided pigtails would get caught in the beaters as it whipped mashed potatoes? (After a little cleanup, both my hair and the potatoes survived. Yes, the potatoes were served, because it was mealtime and the menfolk were hungry — what they didn’t know, didn’t hurt them)

During my teen years, I rebelled against the boxes of my family’s religion while my sisters embraced it. I snuck ‘forbidden’ music and books into my room, which were confiscated by a sister more than once. In my 20’s, I chose a non-Mennonite path in life, doing things that disappointed them, like cutting my hair, wearing pants and buying a TV ... all strictly forbidden in their world. 

Traditional Mennonites look almost like Amish in their dress, but they don’t follow all the same teachings. Mennonites don’t have a policy of shunning, so even though my sisters have stayed in that world, I’m still invited to family events and dinners. We’ve talked about are religious differences at times, but for the most part, we’ve settled on a “live and let live” policy with each other. I don’t try to change them and they don’t (often) try to change me.

Religious isn’t the only area we’re different, there’s numerous other areas. 

 - They sit and quilt, I prefer to go for a run.
 - They sew almost all their own clothes, I don’t own a sewing machine.
 - They are excited about new pastry or cake recipes, I’m excited about new salad recipes.
 - They spend days growing/canning/freezing produce every summer, I spend days at the beach.
 - They have the entire family (about 50 people) over for a family style dinner at least twice a year. I’ve done that twice in the past ten years. 

Over the years, we’ve spent a few weekends together at a cabin with our families, but most times, we connect via a family meal followed by a few hours of visiting. Occasionally, we spend a day at our mom’s house just hanging out, playing games, laughing over old pictures or they work on a quilt, while I take pictures. 

Inspite of our differences, we make an effort to stay connected ... because sisters are sisters and always will be. 

*My younger sister Rosene was born with Cerebral Palsy and in October 2008 at age 39, she died from complications related to Cerebral Palsy and a surgery. I miss her, but I’m happy that she’s not suffering anymore. 



Some portions of this post are taken from my memoir Because I Can which will be released this fall


How do you interact with your family? Are you similar to most of your family or different?


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Janet has been asking why since she was born and continues to do so today as she learns to fully live life again after almost losing her leg and her life in an accident. She is a speaker and a writer with her first book Because I Can being released this fall. She blogs at JanetOber.com. And you can connect with her on Twitter and on Facebook.

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For Anna by David Ozab

I connected with David on Twitter and he is a great encourager. In a world where people can be most concerned with promoting their own self-interest, it's a delight to meet someone who encourages others. David suggested sharing this piece after I started running and I am so glad that he did.

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A year ago today, Julia, Anna, and I were enjoying the dollar ride day at the Lane County Fair. As we stood on the Midway, amidst the crowd of families, deciding where we wanted to go next, Anna caught sight of the roller coaster.

"I want to go on that!"

Anna was only four, but she's tall for her age. She was tall enough to go on the ride but she needed an adult to go with her.

"I'll take you," I said. "I love roller coasters."

"Yay!" She jumped up and down the whole time we were waiting in line. Finally, we made to the front. Anna climbed into the car and I squeezed in next to her. I sucked in my gut and lowered the bar. Good thing I hadn't eaten in a few hours.

Every time we hit a turn I thought I would squish Anna, but she didn't seem to mind. She was having too much fun.

"Weee!!!"

We got off the ride--she was excited and ready for more, while I was just grateful I hadn't thrown up. We took Anna to more rides--ones she could go on by herself--and I couldn't help but notice that Julia seemed sad. We talked about it the next day.

"I want to take her on the roller coaster," she said, "but I can't. Not like this anyway."

You see, Julia and I had both let ourselves go over the last several years.  Busy lives, sedentary jobs, and poor eating choices had left us both severely overweight. But men's and women's bodies are different. I could still manage to get on the roller coaster--all I had to do was suck it in and try not to breathe too deep until the ride was over. Julia couldn't suck in her hips, and she couldn't go on a roller coaster.

We made the decision that day to change our lifestyle choices and get healthy again. Neither of us were interested in dieting or in gimmicks--they never work. Instead, we focused on common sense changes, like smaller portions and better choices. We cut out junk food and sodas, cut back drastically on fast food and sweets, and cooked at home almost every day. On our rare trips out to eat, we looked up nutritional information and planned our orders ahead of time.

The weight loss came slowly at first, until October when Julia starting tracking calories, then the pounds cascaded away. By April, we had lost a combined total of 110 lbs.

Then we hit a snag. Like many Catholics, we gave up candy for Lent, which wasn't a big sacrifice as we'd already limited ourselves to no more than a serving of dark chocolate per day. But when Easter hit, we both gave in an had a creme egg. It's been a battle since then, but the scales are still moving in the right direction.

So where are we now? One year later, we have lost a total of 160 lbs and we are hoping to hit the 200 lb mark by the end of the year. My doctor lowered my dose of blood pressure medication in March and hopes to have me completely off meds by December. I've extended my life expectancy and, God willing, I will get to see Anna grow up, graduate from college, get married, and have kids of her own.

Now when I see pictures of myself from last year, when I was around my peak weight, I wonder why I didn't start sooner. It hasn't been easy, but it hasn't been as hard as I thought it would be. Then I stop myself and remember that I can't change the past, but I can keep doing the right thing in the present and the future.

We both can. For Anna.


Have you made any major health changes? What were your motivations?


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David Ozab is a freelance writer and stay-at-home dad from Eugene, Oregon. When he's not wrapped around his 5-year-old daughter's little finger, he's a Contributing Editor at About This Particular Macintosh (www.atpm.com), a Guest Contributor at MyEugene (www.myeugene.org), and an opinionated loudmouth on his blog (www.fatherhoodetc.com). His writing has been featured in errant parent (errantparent.com) and will appear in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Devotional Tales for Tough Times (Due out in October) and in an upcoming issue of Catholic Digest (Date: TBA). He is also on Twitter (@davidozab), but isn't everyone?






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Why I Wrote a Letter to Mark Driscoll

photo © 2006 Dennis Jarvis | more info (via: Wylio)
There has been a bit of push-back to a Facebook status that Pastor Mark Driscoll posted last Friday, asking folks to tell a story "about the most effeminate anatomically male worship leader (they've) ever personally witnessed." While not stated explicitly, it was implicit in the note (and from Pastor Mark's overall demeanor) that these would probably not be primarily positive stories.

I've read a number of posts about this. On Monday, Rachel Held Evans invited her readers to consider writing a letter to the leadership at Mars Hill Church, asking them to address the issue of bullying. I had a moment of hesitation in writing a letter because I don't know Pastor Mark and I don't really know any effeminate worship leaders (some metro guys for certain, but no one that I would consider to be effeminate).

And then I read a post from Tyler L. Clark that compelled me to write a letter. In his piece, Tyler wrote, "When you put out a call on Facebook for people verbally attack “effeminate anatomically male” men, I find myself back in high school—shoved against a locker, with the bullies calling me a faggot."

Reading that, I knew I had to write.

You see, there's a really good chance that's going to be my son. He is a funny, creative, smart, good-looking kid. But he's not the most masculine boy you're going to meet. He's more likely to play Super Mario Brothers than to play football. He collects Pokemon cards, not baseball cards. He invented the game "hug 'o war" at our house. He says "I love you" to people he's just met.

This kid wears his emotions out there and as a result, he gets teased by his peers at school or at day camp. Most of the time we're able to talk about it and he's able to blow it off. And honestly, most of the teasing isn't too bad yet. He's still mostly a little boy, so things haven't turned really nasty. But I can see it, looming. He's getting older and expectations of "manliness" are going to start to become more and more persistent. And odds are good that some day, my son is going to tell me or his dad or some other trusted adult a story similar to the one that Tyler referenced above.

There's one place where he should be absolutely free to be who he is, and that's the Church. He should never have to fear that he's going to be verbally assaulted or mocked or torn down or gossiped about when he steps through the doors of the church. Instead, it should be a place where he can go to have wounds healed. A place where he can be encouraged. A place where he can have his talents nurtured and used.

Pastor Mark's call for stories about effeminate males was a call for stories about someone's son or brother or friend. The post dehumanized a group of people by reducing them to a single trait. Of course, if I look at Pastor Mark as just a bully, I risk doing the same. He becomes a caricature instead of a person.

So I wrote my letter. Because I don't want Pastor Mark to be reduced to the part of villain. And I don't want my son to be reduced to the part of anatomically correct male. They are both so much more than any single negative trait. When we choose stand up for one person, we are standing up for all of them.




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Family Business

A few weeks ago I mentioned that we were wanting to do some family day trips this summer. Partly because I'm always on the lookout for new material, but mostly because we just need to do some family stuff to reconnect after a loooong year of having nowhere near enough family time.

Yesterday we did one of the things on my list and took a drive down to Green Bank, WV to see the Green Bank Telescope. It's the largest steerable radio telescope in the world and it's just a couple hours south of us. We tend to be pretty geeky, nerdy folks, so this was pretty much the perfect thing for us to go investigate.

It was a really fantastic day. We had a great time investigating all of the exhibits at the observatory and loved the tour. Sadly, we weren't able to get any pictures up close of the telescope because digital cameras mess with the radio waves and can ruin years of work. Those scientist-types tend to frown upon that. And since we don't want to upset the folks who are going to be our ambassadors to the aliens, we figured it was good to turn off our camera when we were asked. However, Jason was able to snap a few pictures of the telescope an the kids (you can click to embiggen any of these pics):

Waiting for lunch at NRAO

The kids trying to look at Jason for a pic

The GBT (Great Big Thing, according to the tour guide)

What made the day even more entertaining was that when we finished at NRAO, we decided to check out a few other attractions in the southern part of the state. So we took a terrifying gravel road up to the top of Spruce Knob, which is the highest point in WV:

Proof that we have a car that can drive us to high places

It was pouring down the rain and it was cold and there was absolutely no view because of all of the fog, but we just laughed. On our drive down the mountain, we found a place that had a spectacular view of the countryside:

This is one you should embiggen.

Me and the hubs

We finally made it off of the mountain and decided that it was time to head home. Except that along the way, we drove past Seneca Rocks and decided that we needed to make one last stop on our whirlwind tour of southern WV. This is a place we hope to return to for real so we can do some hiking. Because it. was. gorgeous:

The rock face

Behind Jason, I was picking some wild blackberries. Nom.

After that, we really did head home, but it was a wonderful day. I was reminded once again of what a beautiful state I live in and also just how much I enjoy spending time with my family. They are funny, clever, creative, interesting people and it was fantastic to unplug for a minute and enjoy a day together. I am thankful for all of the beauty in my life.

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What is something that you love about where you live? Do you have any vacations planned for this summer?

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How I'm So Blessed

photo © 2011 Quinn Dombrowski | more info (via: Wylio)I had a lovely birthday. So lovely, in fact, that I went ahead and extended it through the next day. These kinds of moments make me want to reflect on why I'm so blessed.

• My husband (willing to drive 3 hours so I could have the sandwich I wanted)
• Blueberries (the kind that are so big and sweet and juicy, you want to eat them until you're sick)
• My kids (they fixed me a full meal, including a from-scratch chocolate cake wreck)
• My parents (gave me an amazing start on life and unconditional love throughout)
• My friends (hundreds of facebook messages & tweets made me feeling all gooey)
• Wine (the glass of Pinot Noir that I had that evening was just divine)
• Laughter (my favorite thing to do is laugh and people provided me with tons to laugh about over the past few days)
• Music (I've been listening to Josh Garrels' album pretty non-stop for the past few days and it reminds me why I love music so much)
• Generosity (Friends, family & readers all pitched in and raised $370 for Nuru International! I cannot tell you how much that means to me!)

Thank you so much for making my birthday one to remember. 

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What are some things that make you happy?

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Lessons Learned

photo © 2007 Michel Filion | more info (via: Wylio)
I intended to blog yesterday. I had a topic picked out and was starting to work on a post (I know, I'm supposed to be ahead here. I get it.). I got a few paragraphs in and got a call from Jason. About a month ago, he applied for a new job and we've been waiting anxiously to see if it came through. He was calling to let me know that he did indeed get the job. In that moment, my day was pretty shot because all I wanted to do was celebrate this achievement. That good news was enough to pretty much set me in a happy place all day long. (Also, not having my own laptop makes me a little crazy. Why is it so hard to concentrate on writing while using a different computer???)

I haven't written a whole lot about Jason's year and a half of school, since that's more his story that mine. But after yesterday's good news, I did start thinking about what I want our kids to take away from that long, difficult season. I came up with a few thoughts that I think are probably good reminders for me too.

1. Education matters. Despite my hubby's excellent work ethic and job loyalty, because he hadn't finished college previously, a number of jobs that he was well qualified for were unavailable to him. Finishing a degree allowed him opportunities that he simply didn't have before. But even if the previous 18 months had not resulted in a new job, learning is never wasted. Jason's degree doesn't really have much to do with his former or new job, but the knowledge that he has still has great value.
2. Dreams don't have an age limit. Many of Jason's classmates were very, very young (possibly embryonic) when he was in school the first time. He had some professors who were finishing up doctorates who were younger than him. But this has been something that he has wanted to do since we've been married. I'm so proud of him for not allowing his age to be an obstacle for pursuing his degree.
3. Dreams require sacrifice. The past 18 months were hard. Working full-time and going to school full-time would be hard already. Add caring for a family to that mix and it's damn near super-human. The end result though was definitely worth it, but the season was hard on everyone and it's a good reminder that dreams don't happen without some blood, sweat and tears (or at least, the tears part. I don't think we had much bloodshed.).
4. Other people are important for success. This year was tough, but none of us did it alone. We had to support one another right here in our family. But beyond that, we had the encouragement and help of our family and friends. The only person who could do Jason's work was Jason, but I don't believe that any of us can achieve our full potential without the help of others. We need community.
5. Achieving your dreams is fun. Despite all of the work and sacrifice and loss of sleep and all of that, when you see something that you've poured yourself into come to life, it is exciting. It's easy to lose that sense of joy in the midst of the difficulties, but when we're pursuing our passions, we need to remember to have fun as well. To quote Dr. Seuss, "These things are fun and fun is good."

What dream are you working toward? Do you have any lessons that you have learned in pursuit of your goals?

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