God Is Working All Things Together for Good - Lessons Learned from a Ski Accident

Six weeks ago, my 17-year-old baby girl was seriously injured in a snow ski accident while we were celebrating my son’s 14^th birthday at a nearby ski slope in Weston, Missouri.  Her recovery from shattering and fracturing multiple vertebrae in her back has been slow but remarkable.  It has not been an easy six weeks, especially in this season when she was about to stretch her wings and fly from the nest, now slowed by a broken wing with a long recovery process. 

We cannot understand or interpret all the bad events and tragedies that happen, but we can know that God is at work in them, whether or not we can understand on this side of heaven.  God has been working incredibly behind the scenes, maybe in more ways than I’ll ever know, but here are a few things I see:

1.  My relationship with my daughter has grown tighter, closer, forever altered, even if only for a short season.  A new bond has been forged and sealed.

 
2.  Her eyes are opened to the difficulties of others.  She is sensitive to others in wheelchairs or using walkers or dealing with physical handicaps.  She notices the things now that make it difficult for access with a walker or wheelchair, things many of us would never thing about, like grooves in a tile floor. She knows how it feels to be stared at and to experience the furtive glances.
 
3.  She has re-considered her degree plan for college, realizing that God may want her to do something different with her life than she had originally planned.  Rather than majoring in business and opening her own fitness center, she is now looking into social work with an emphasis in victim/trauma services.  Her heart is tender toward those who hurt due to circumstances beyond their control.  She is prioritizing meaning over money.

4.  I am stronger than I thought I was. I learned this in my husband’s heart attack a year ago today, but several events since then have reinforced it.  God helps me to think clearly in a crisis situation, to put aside my emotion and to deal with the next steps at hand that must be taken rather than falling into an emotional puddle.  I still melt into an emotional puddle, but only when it’s over.  God lets me melt, and then He puts me back together.
 

5.  God turns wounds into scars.  He is working His redemptive story in us.  As she works through the emotions of her life temporarily changed, Emily’s focus on her future goals has sharpened with a changed purpose, and her motivation to achieve them has kicked into gear.  God is using this to shape her character.  She will have a story to tell, and it will be a beautiful tale of redemption. 

Letter to MarMar - #3, December 22, 2013

December 22, 2013

Dear MarMar,

It seems extra quiet here without you, though the ring of your laughter still echoes.  You have no idea how much I care because I cannot adequately express it without feeling dorky. 

You left for winter break a few days ago to be with your family in Texas.  I imagine it is an emotional time and that you are facing some ghosts. Remember how strong you have become.  Remember what you have found while you are here, even as hard as it has been.

Remember the vision I shared with you? You were standing on the beach, looking up at the sky, fists balled up and ready for a fight.  God then sent a hurricane-force wind and your long hair whipped around you and your hands opened up as you fought to stand your ground. But God wasn’t trying to destroy you or knock you down. The hurricane force of His love was penetrating every fiber of your being, and you finally relented. 

MarMar, when (if?) you come back for your last semester of high school, I will pray fervently for you every day that your chains will be broken, and I will know it’s not my job to do it.  I will let God do His work.

With much love,

Paula

Letter to MarMar #1

Letter to MarMar - #2, November 1, 2013

November 1, 2013

Dear MarMar,

I know you don’t need another mother, but it has not been easy trying to figure out what my relationship with you should be.  It hurts when you look me in the eye and lie.  And when you found out that it did, I think you hurt too.  You have been vague ever since, and I have let you be.

I spent hours worrying if you would come home safe, hoping you would not get behind the wheel under the influence of something that would bring harm to you or someone else. I have wrestled with what kind of life I would allow you to leave while under our roof, whether you were taking advantage of me, wanting to escape accountability.

But I also know that you probably felt hurt, hurt that I could not trust you, hurt that I assumed maybe you were acting self-destructively when perhaps you were not.  Please know that it was only because I care for you so deeply.  I want to spare you the pain and to cut the chains and set you free, but it’s really not my job.

With much love,

Paula

Letter to MarMar #1

Letter to MarMar - #1 - August 16, 2013

August 16, 2013

Dear MarMar,

It was a month ago that you arrived at our home for a two-week summer vacation.  I remember the hugs and tears of reunion with my daughter Emily and how your suitcase exploded in the middle of her room, firing clothes in every direction. 

It had been five years since we moved away, and immeasurable amounts of water of change have flowed under the bridge.  In your eyes I could see both defiance and vulnerability, and my heart melted all over again with love for you, as it had when you were 6.

One quiet morning when no one was around, I knelt on the floor, laid hands on your suitcase, and prayed fervently for you.  A beautiful young lady of 17, you knew how smart and beautiful you were most days, but you were blind to your own strength and vitality.  You were stuck in a relationship that was dragging you through the mud, and you wanted to let go, but couldn’t.  I prayed that Jesus would set you free. 

On July 30, God showed me that I needed to be ready to go where He leads in the moment, that it may not be in my schedule or at my convenience, but that He would use our home as the place of refuge that would release you from the chains of bondage.  It didn’t hardly seem possible at the time.  I knew if it were meant for you to be here, God would do a miraculous work of shoveling away all the obstacles.

And He did. 

And now you are here. You are a part of our home, a part of our family. I pray that you will feel peace, joy, love, that you will find freedom and that you will fall in love with Jesus. I know the days ahead will be long and difficult, for both of us, but I am excited to see what will emerge from the refining fire.

With much love,

Paula 

Letter to Dad in 1991, from Me in 2013

Dear Dad in 1991,

I wish you could have a peek into the future.  I’m writing this now as your daughter at age 42, to you as a father at near the same age back then, wishing we both could know how things will turn out and be encouraged. 

In these difficult yet crucial decision-making years of my late teens, you may feel discouraged as I try to figure out who I am and where I’m going.  You may feel like you are failing – but you aren’t.  I am listening, even if it seems like I’m not.  The time you spend with me will leave a lasting impression.  Your efforts to know me while I don’t even know myself are not futile. 

You take me sailing, just the two of us. I may seem sullen and grumbly, and you may wish you had never bothered, but even so, it was not for nothing.  You are showing me you care.

You play racquetball with me and afterwards treat me to limeade slushes at Sonic.  We have fun together. You are showing me I have value.

We escape after dinner for Italian ice so we can talk, just the two of us. You let me pick the radio station and you listen to my music, even though you don't like it. You want to know what's going on in my head.  You are showing me that my opinions are worth something.

It may seem like I scoff at you and disregard your advice, but deep down, I really am listening.  In my youthful arrogance, I argue, thinking I know more than you, but you listen.  You don’t blow me off or ignore me, nor do you lecture me.  Instead, you ask questions that make me think, and then you give advice, continuing to insist that God’s ways are the best ways.  Then you watch me go my own way and make mistakes, but you bite your tongue and never say, “I told you so.”  You don’t give up on me.

And it made all the difference.

I know it’s hard right now.  You tease that you hope someday I'll have a daughter just like me - so that I’ll know what I put you through.  And you'll get your wish - times two.  Then you will say you're sorry you ever said that, and I'll laugh, and we'll hug each other with love and appreciation.

The times now may be difficult, but I will grow up, and I will have all the things you dream for me – a long-lasting and wonderful marriage, children, a successful career, but most of all, a life centered on Christ.  Through the valley of shadows and over the mountains of victory, Jesus will become my everything. 

And you have no idea that you are showing me how to be a godly parent to my own strong-willed children in their teen years. You are passing on a legacy of faith and love.

Hang on, Dad, don’t give up. Your reward will come.

Love,

Your daughter in 2013

Should Our Kids Do Chores?

“We don’t have chores because school is our job,” announced my 10-year-old niece as my son cinched the overflowing trash bag in the kitchen to take it outside.  Never mind that it was summer and school was not in session during the season my nieces and nephews came to live with us. At first my nieces gloated and waited to be served while my kids poured their own drinks, washed their own dishes, made their own beds, cleaned up their messes, did their own laundry, took care of the dogs, and mowed the lawn. To compound the difficulty, their sweet mom said she didn’t believe in chores because “serving them is the way I show love”.   

Maybe I appeared as selfish and unloving, but I didn’t give my kids chores out of selfishness.   Most of the time, it would be easier to do it myself than to teach, remind, and follow up.  As a working mom, I need my kids to help, but even if I did not work outside the home, I would still have them doing the same chores. It’s just a part of being in a family and learning to take care of your space.  Work is not a curse; it's a gift. Besides, play is more relished after working hard.

In Kay Wills Wyma’s book Cleaning House, (see my book review), she says that when we do everything for our kids, they receive “a big fat load of free time, reinforced expectations of being served, and confirmation that they belong on the sidelines of life. We made it easy for them to assume that many doable tasks fall outside their realm of competency or responsibility.” (p.168)

Could you hear me cheering as I read that?  I have felt much in need of reinforcement that I was doing the right thing by assigning chores to my children, especially when they perform their tasks grudgingly, while recently my nieces and nephew actually get excited about pitching in and helping out joyfully for no compensation.

“We should view daily household chores as a necessity because the kids themselves need to work. Our kids need to know how to persevere. They need to know that no job is beneath them. They need to know what it takes to operate a home. They need to know that sometimes you have to get dirty to get things clean. They need to know how to serve. They need to know that a family operates as a unit, everyone pitching in. They need to know that they belong, that they are a part of the group, that they are needed.” (page 169)

The best part – my kids actually have started to feel a little good about the fact that they have chores. I think maybe deep down they like being entrusted with responsibility, and they are becoming aware that it is building their character and preparing them for adulthood. Yes, our kids should do chores. 

Linking up with A Pause on the Path and Finding Heaven

Why Teenagers Rebel - a Teen Perspective

By Emily Greene, age 15.8 years old

Why do teenagers rebel? I had to repeat that several times to myself because it’s a difficult question that can’t be answered the same for everyone. Some teenagers may feel lonely and not loved, so they feel that if they rebel, maybe they will get the attention they need. 

This is not the case for me.  I know my family loves me.  Too much. They show it in many ways, but in a sense, I still feel lonely, like something is missing and I want to seek it.  Some people dream to have a family that’ll care and love them as much as my family does for me, but at times I can’t stand it. I feel trapped in a box that I’ll never be able to escape.  I know my parents have rules for a reason and they only make them because they care, not because they want to make me mad all the time.  But I feel as if those lines I’m forbidden to cross are preventing me from filling the empty hole in my heart. 

Another part of me hates being told what to do or what not to do. I like to feel as if all my options are open and I can choose to walk through any door I want without the worry of a door being locked. If a door is locked, I want to know what is behind it.  That’s the door I want.

I want to learn from my own mistakes. I want that sense of freedom, which I feel when I rebel. The feeling of power over myself is a feeling I can’t have when I’m trapped. That’s why I rebel – the hole in my heart and wanting to finding out what fills it.

Emily

My daughter wrote this on the airplane on our vacation while she was 'bored'.  We have been struggling lately - the limits my husband and I place in her life at age 15 when she wants to be 21.  She says our rules make her want to rebel. Yet, some rules we just have to keep in place in order to live obediently to God as parents.

My heart breaks – not for me but for all the pain that she is willing to invite into her life by choosing her own way as the ultimate way. 

 I wonder how long it will take and what she will experience before she finally realizes that only Jesus can fill that hole. Only Jesus will satisfy. 

As a mother, what can I do? All I know is to keep on loving her as Jesus does and to be her biggest prayer warrior.

Linking up with: Working Kansas Homemaker, Soli Deo Gloria,and A Pause on the Path.