Dear Micah and Liam -
I'm writing this to you in the year 2012. Undoubtedly when you read this, it will be at least 2022. The times, they will have a-changed. And that will sound even more dorky then than it does now.
One of the things that really bothers me today is the use of cell phone. It's a necessary evil, for sure, but even worse is that it has become a pervasive evil. More and more I am seeing people who cannot be separated from their phones.
People on a date in a restaurant who are more concerned with the people they're talking to on the phone than the person they're trying to get to know who's right across the table from them.
People in stores who can't be bothered to get off the phone, even to check out and interact with the cashier.
Parents picking up their children from daycare who would rather talk to someone else than to the children that they haven't seen all day.
People checking texts all throughout soccer games and dance recitals, and paying more attention to their updates on Facebook than the action in front of them.
And these are just some of the things that I see now. It's mean, hurtful, and it speaks to the epidemic in our society of not being present.
There is an expectation in 2012 that everyone will be available to everyone else whenever, wherever and for whatever. That's not right. I hate to think this problem will get worse, but I'm not sure how it can't. With the proliferation of texting and IMing and the like, it seems like there's no way out of accessibility.
You have a right to privacy. You have a right to disconnect. Please stand up for yourself, and your right to live your life without constant interruption.
When you're dating, know this about your date: more than anything, a woman wants to know that you are interested in her, that you are paying attention to her, that you care about what she cares about. You can't possibly do that for her if you are looking more at your phone than you are in her eyes.
At the end of the day, the job won't love you and neither will many of the friends that it's so important to keep in touch with. The job won't run to the door with a big smile yelling, "Daddy!" Set limits in your job, no matter what the job is, so that you know that the people you love know that they are number one. Set limits in your relationships with those less important than your family and closest friends so that those to whom you are very close will know that you treasure them in a very different way.
So here's my request of you. Please put down your phones. When you take a girl on a date, focus on her and pay attention to her. When you have a family, focus on them and pay attention to them. Do it because it's the right thing to do. Do it because it shows them how much you care. Do it because nothing means more than knowing that you're being listened to by someone you love.
Love,
Mom
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
You guys are so much fun
I had the privilege of taking you both to Disney yesterday. We first took Aunt Heidi (whom Liam calls "No Heidi") to the airport and dropped her off after a few days with us. Then we headed to Disney (Mickey's House) and Micah started to talk and talk and talk about all the things we could do, and which order we would do them in. He is big on itineraries and the schedule, just like his mother.
And I so enjoyed toting you both around, first EPCOT, where we ran in to Suheir and Robb Pfeil and Laila and Landon, then to the monorail and to a very busy Magic Kingdom. It was fun to be with you, though exhausting because Liam still needs to be carried now and then. We watched the parade and ate popcorn. We tried to ride the train, but it was too full. We then had ice cream. We rode the Peoplemover two times in a row, then watched the Electric parade, where I had Liam on my shoulders and almost dropped him trying to pick up Micah because we couldn't see over the crowd. A nice lady offered to hold you on top of the fence so you could see. We then stayed for my favorite--the fireworks, where you both yelled "WHOA!" to nearly every big display. Then we trudged to the monorail, then to EPCOT, then to our car where you both swiftly fell asleep as I was driving us home. It was a full day, but one I'll treasure with you. I love sharing these times with you both.
Love,
DAD
And I so enjoyed toting you both around, first EPCOT, where we ran in to Suheir and Robb Pfeil and Laila and Landon, then to the monorail and to a very busy Magic Kingdom. It was fun to be with you, though exhausting because Liam still needs to be carried now and then. We watched the parade and ate popcorn. We tried to ride the train, but it was too full. We then had ice cream. We rode the Peoplemover two times in a row, then watched the Electric parade, where I had Liam on my shoulders and almost dropped him trying to pick up Micah because we couldn't see over the crowd. A nice lady offered to hold you on top of the fence so you could see. We then stayed for my favorite--the fireworks, where you both yelled "WHOA!" to nearly every big display. Then we trudged to the monorail, then to EPCOT, then to our car where you both swiftly fell asleep as I was driving us home. It was a full day, but one I'll treasure with you. I love sharing these times with you both.
Love,
DAD
Friday, February 18, 2011
The deeper meaning of blankets
Dear Micah and Liam -
Before I became a mother, I used to have a lot of sympathy for the poor, oppressed, and sick in our country. I have always considered myself to be someone with a compassionate heart, ready to do things for others so they will know that they are not alone in this world, that someone cares for them and is watching out for them in some small way.
Fast forward to August 2007. I always used to hear people talking about the love that a parent feels for her child immediately upon welcoming them into the world, and I finally got to experience that firsthand when Micah was born. But I noticed another change almost instantly after holding Micah for the first time. That change was my level of empathy for mothers around the world who cannot provide the basics for their children, whatever the reason.
Because I language has always fascinated me and because I believe you should always be learning, here's a vocabulary lesson for you: "sympathy" is the act of sharing the same feelings as someone else, whereas "empathy" is the act of vicariously placing yourself in someone else's shoes so that you can truly know what they are experiencing. People will often use these words interchangeably in our culture, but they are not.
When I became your mother, I switched teams. I used to be on team Sympathy, where I could share a feeling with another person, but couldn't really understand what it meant to go through what they were going through in life. Now I'm on team Empathy, and the level of emotion is so much deeper. Instead of just thinking, "I know how that person feels," now I think, "O my goodness, what that person is experiencing breaks my heart." This is especially true when it comes to seeing parents, in particular mothers, who love their children with all of their hearts and are trying so hard but cannot provide even the basic needs for their kids. Seeing these circumstances, and you do a lot in church work, literally wrenches my insides.
This afternoon, as I was walking through the buildings at Holy Innocents' making sure everything was in place for Sunday, I went into the sanctuary on my way to the sacristy. Laying on the altar were at least two dozen blankets that the quilting group in the church had made for the children staying at "A Kid's Place", a local organization that houses mothers and children who have nowhere else to turn. This group has made a promise that every child who enters "A Kid's Place" will receive their own quilt.
Walking through the sanctuary, seeing these blankets so lovingly stitched together, my heart began to ache; I felt so much empathy it almost overwhelmed me.
I ached for and empathized with all the babies who so little to call their own, and will depend on these blankets for warmth in the years to come.
I ached for and empathized with all of the mothers, who must spend sleepless nights watching over their children, wondering how they are going to provide for them.
I ached for and empathized with the families who have been torn apart by this crazy economy, by the wars all over the world, by situations of abuse.
And as I fingered the blankets, I pictured the two of you, my boys, and I briefly allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like if I could not provide for your most basic of needs; what if I could not keep you warm? You see, blankets provide a lot of different things. They offer warmth, protection, safety. Symbolically they offer love. They offer a tangible reminder that someone loves you enough to want you to stay warm and protected from the chills of life. What if I could not give you a simple blanket so that you would know how much I love you?
The bottom line is that I can't set up permanent residence in Empathy, but must make it a point to pass through often so that I'm reminded of all that I have and all that is expected of me. I'm thankful that I can do this for you. I pray for those who mothers who cannot, and make frequent contributions to organizations or groups that provide for the less fortunate. And I am trying to teach my two beautiful boys to learn how to blanket the world with their own love, so that they can become empathetic young men who understand that a blanket is more than a piece of fabric.
Love,
Mommy
Before I became a mother, I used to have a lot of sympathy for the poor, oppressed, and sick in our country. I have always considered myself to be someone with a compassionate heart, ready to do things for others so they will know that they are not alone in this world, that someone cares for them and is watching out for them in some small way.
Fast forward to August 2007. I always used to hear people talking about the love that a parent feels for her child immediately upon welcoming them into the world, and I finally got to experience that firsthand when Micah was born. But I noticed another change almost instantly after holding Micah for the first time. That change was my level of empathy for mothers around the world who cannot provide the basics for their children, whatever the reason.
Because I language has always fascinated me and because I believe you should always be learning, here's a vocabulary lesson for you: "sympathy" is the act of sharing the same feelings as someone else, whereas "empathy" is the act of vicariously placing yourself in someone else's shoes so that you can truly know what they are experiencing. People will often use these words interchangeably in our culture, but they are not.
When I became your mother, I switched teams. I used to be on team Sympathy, where I could share a feeling with another person, but couldn't really understand what it meant to go through what they were going through in life. Now I'm on team Empathy, and the level of emotion is so much deeper. Instead of just thinking, "I know how that person feels," now I think, "O my goodness, what that person is experiencing breaks my heart." This is especially true when it comes to seeing parents, in particular mothers, who love their children with all of their hearts and are trying so hard but cannot provide even the basic needs for their kids. Seeing these circumstances, and you do a lot in church work, literally wrenches my insides.
This afternoon, as I was walking through the buildings at Holy Innocents' making sure everything was in place for Sunday, I went into the sanctuary on my way to the sacristy. Laying on the altar were at least two dozen blankets that the quilting group in the church had made for the children staying at "A Kid's Place", a local organization that houses mothers and children who have nowhere else to turn. This group has made a promise that every child who enters "A Kid's Place" will receive their own quilt.
Walking through the sanctuary, seeing these blankets so lovingly stitched together, my heart began to ache; I felt so much empathy it almost overwhelmed me.
I ached for and empathized with all the babies who so little to call their own, and will depend on these blankets for warmth in the years to come.
I ached for and empathized with all of the mothers, who must spend sleepless nights watching over their children, wondering how they are going to provide for them.
I ached for and empathized with the families who have been torn apart by this crazy economy, by the wars all over the world, by situations of abuse.
And as I fingered the blankets, I pictured the two of you, my boys, and I briefly allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like if I could not provide for your most basic of needs; what if I could not keep you warm? You see, blankets provide a lot of different things. They offer warmth, protection, safety. Symbolically they offer love. They offer a tangible reminder that someone loves you enough to want you to stay warm and protected from the chills of life. What if I could not give you a simple blanket so that you would know how much I love you?
The bottom line is that I can't set up permanent residence in Empathy, but must make it a point to pass through often so that I'm reminded of all that I have and all that is expected of me. I'm thankful that I can do this for you. I pray for those who mothers who cannot, and make frequent contributions to organizations or groups that provide for the less fortunate. And I am trying to teach my two beautiful boys to learn how to blanket the world with their own love, so that they can become empathetic young men who understand that a blanket is more than a piece of fabric.
Love,
Mommy
Monday, August 30, 2010
Job Hunting
Dear Micah and Liam -
It's been a while since I've written to you. I knew that it would happen this way. Sometimes life gives us time to breathe and reflect, and sometimes we're just along for the ride, hoping that we can just say we made it out alive at the end of a day.
Your dad and I have been having a lot of discussion lately about me going back to work. I really need to find something that brings in more money because, unfortunately, my reward for watching you grow up and getting to be part of the process is not monetary.
It breaks my heart. I know that you guys will be okay. Micah, you have been in daycare before and I loved that experience for you. I loved you had friends there and teachers that loved you and a safe place to spend your day.
But oh, how I have treasured being at home with you both. I have loved that I have been there for the trains and the games and the lunches and the naps and the firsts and the seconds and the thirds of everything that you've done. It breaks my heart to be in the position where I can't always be with you. Even when the days have been challenging and I have known without a doubt that my life would be easier if I went to work, I have never regretted being home with you.
Both Daddy and I wish that this didn't have to happen this way, that life would be a little different. But sometimes we don't get our wish, the coin toss doesn't go our way, and life deals us a hand that we would rather not play.
We're in Pittsburgh as I write this, having come up for a sad reason. But the extra time away from home has given me time to reflect and begin to prepare myself for a new season in life, a season that involves being more than just your mom, and having a professional identity again.
So I want to ask your forgiveness in advance. I want to say that I'm sorry for the times that I can't be there. Know it's not a choice, but a necessity that keeps me from spending all of my minutes with you. But also know this - my choice comes in renewing my vow to completely cherish the minutes that I do have, because they will be even that much more precious to me when I don't have as many as I used to have.
Thank you for understanding. I love you so much, and am so happy God chose me for your mom.
Love,
Mommy
It's been a while since I've written to you. I knew that it would happen this way. Sometimes life gives us time to breathe and reflect, and sometimes we're just along for the ride, hoping that we can just say we made it out alive at the end of a day.
Your dad and I have been having a lot of discussion lately about me going back to work. I really need to find something that brings in more money because, unfortunately, my reward for watching you grow up and getting to be part of the process is not monetary.
It breaks my heart. I know that you guys will be okay. Micah, you have been in daycare before and I loved that experience for you. I loved you had friends there and teachers that loved you and a safe place to spend your day.
But oh, how I have treasured being at home with you both. I have loved that I have been there for the trains and the games and the lunches and the naps and the firsts and the seconds and the thirds of everything that you've done. It breaks my heart to be in the position where I can't always be with you. Even when the days have been challenging and I have known without a doubt that my life would be easier if I went to work, I have never regretted being home with you.
Both Daddy and I wish that this didn't have to happen this way, that life would be a little different. But sometimes we don't get our wish, the coin toss doesn't go our way, and life deals us a hand that we would rather not play.
We're in Pittsburgh as I write this, having come up for a sad reason. But the extra time away from home has given me time to reflect and begin to prepare myself for a new season in life, a season that involves being more than just your mom, and having a professional identity again.
So I want to ask your forgiveness in advance. I want to say that I'm sorry for the times that I can't be there. Know it's not a choice, but a necessity that keeps me from spending all of my minutes with you. But also know this - my choice comes in renewing my vow to completely cherish the minutes that I do have, because they will be even that much more precious to me when I don't have as many as I used to have.
Thank you for understanding. I love you so much, and am so happy God chose me for your mom.
Love,
Mommy
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Trust
When Mommy told me that she had started a blog to write letters to you, in order to share our wisdom in writing, I was extremely grateful. I had been part of a memorial service recently where a young man shared a similar letter of wisdom with his very young son. Part of it was to share with him how special his great grandfather had been. I thought, "I should do that with our boys." As with most things, your mother had the best idea before I did.
One of the things that you are going to have to experience through me is the way God's call in my life affects our whole family. I had this same experience with my father, and wherever he was led, we all followed. I hope that as you grow you'll be able to participate more in that process with me. It's a very disconcerting kind of thing to be in ministry in this way, but God's call is a very powerful thing. It's not something we can always sense, but it's something we must always trust. This is what faith really is. It doesn't always make sense, but it never lets you down.
I'm at a point now where we may be called to a new place to do ministry. Micah, you are almost 3 years old and Liam, you just turned 1. It's hard to be thinking about a move, a new place, the change with both of you being so young. I don't want to necessarily go through all the work it might take to move, but when God calls we have to follow. I don't know yet when or where we will go and as I write this it is all very hard to discern. But I think I want to share with you that this is a process, just as with all parts of our lives, where we need to learn to trust God's leading. I hope we can try to do this all the time--it's usually not very easy. I love you both.
Love,
Dad
One of the things that you are going to have to experience through me is the way God's call in my life affects our whole family. I had this same experience with my father, and wherever he was led, we all followed. I hope that as you grow you'll be able to participate more in that process with me. It's a very disconcerting kind of thing to be in ministry in this way, but God's call is a very powerful thing. It's not something we can always sense, but it's something we must always trust. This is what faith really is. It doesn't always make sense, but it never lets you down.
I'm at a point now where we may be called to a new place to do ministry. Micah, you are almost 3 years old and Liam, you just turned 1. It's hard to be thinking about a move, a new place, the change with both of you being so young. I don't want to necessarily go through all the work it might take to move, but when God calls we have to follow. I don't know yet when or where we will go and as I write this it is all very hard to discern. But I think I want to share with you that this is a process, just as with all parts of our lives, where we need to learn to trust God's leading. I hope we can try to do this all the time--it's usually not very easy. I love you both.
Love,
Dad
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Letter to Daddy
Dear Micah and Liam -
It’s Father’s Day, 2010, and I want to tell you something about the amazing man that you have the privilege of calling “Daddy”.
Of all the decisions I’ve made in my life, save the one where I dedicated my life to God, choosing to marry your father was the absolute best one. There are so many reasons why he is the right choice for me as a partner, but that’s another letter. This is the time to focus on why he is the best father for the two of you.
10. He lets you be who you are. While I’m more concerned with milestones and developmental markers, your dad is more concerned with letting the true Liam and the true Micah shine true.
9. He’s not afraid of disciplining you. But he doesn’t go overboard; instead, he uses it to shape you as young people, so that you learn valuable boundaries.
8. He wants you to be citizens of the world. Your daddy is passionate about being green, supporting companies that are kind to people and the environment, and doing what we can to protect the earth that God has blessed us with. In other words, he’s making sure you have a great world in which to grow up in and eventually raise your own family.
7. He wants you to be well-rounded. He wants to introduce you to new things, new people, new places. One of the things he is best at is adjusting to life wherever he lands, and I know that he is working hard to instill that same thing in you.
6. He’s living a little bit of his childhood again through you, which makes him very understanding. He likes to watch Disney movies to you, take you to Disney, talk to you about cars and trucks. He’s meeting you where you are, and enjoying every minute of it.
5. He wants you to learn about Jesus. It was your daddy’s idea to get Micah his first Bible when he was just over a year old, and we’ll soon get one for Micah. He’s the one that sensed that starting you that young with the Bible was one of the best things we could do for you and he was right. Micah, you now cherish that reading and love picking out which Bible story we’ll read each night. Liam, I know you’ll soon know the same joy.
4. He loves showing you off to other people. The joy he finds in you is written all over his face when he introduces you to new people, or shows you off to people who haven’t seen you in a while. He’s proud of who you, how much you’re learning, and how fast you’re growing.
3. He loves your mother, and he’s not afraid to show that and speak of it. In doing so, he’s not only modeling what it means to be a great husband, but what it means to love in general, because real love isn’t afraid to make an occasional public display and it’s not afraid to be honest. Your dad is the best model of this that I know.
2. He loves you with all of his heart. I can see it in the way that he plays with you, takes you places, even watches you during children’s time at church. Visible love is a unique gift to offer your children, and your father gives it to you in spades.
1. He genuinely likes you. If they’re good parents, dads can say that they love their children. That almost always comes with the territory. But only when they’re great parents, can dads say that they like their children.
And you can tell that he likes you by the amount of time that he chooses to spend with you.
So what I want you to know is that you are truly blessed. Really and truly. And I believe that God chose you to be his children for a reason. He needs you and you need him, and on this Father’s Day, I am grateful on your behalf for the wonderful man I get to call husband and you get to call Daddy.
We love you, Daddy!
Mommy
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Honesty
"Honesty is the best policy."
Undoubtedly, this is a saying that you will hear, and maybe even speak, many times through the course of your lives. It's been around forever, but lately I've been thinking about how often the advice is actually heeded - or not.
I'm listening to a book on CD while in the car. Usually not with you guys because your constant chattering makes it hard to listen to anything but you, and I'd rather talk to you anyway! But when I happen to get away by myself, I listen to this book. Like many other novels, the main character is keeping a major secret from those he has grown close to in the small town where he lives. The secret is eating away at him and, while I haven't finished the book yet, I know that at some point towards the climax of the book, the secret is finally going to be spilled with uncertain consequence.
The thing is, this secret isn't that big of a deal and while I'm enjoying listening to something that doesn't rhyme or doesn't have Mickey Mouse's voice anywhere in it, I'm struggling to figure out why this main character just doesn't come clean with his secret. Or why we all don't.
I am convinced that when something major happens to a person, he needs an outlet to process what's going on. That outlet doesn't necessarily have to be a person - he could start a blog! :) But keeping big things inside and not working through the feelings and effects that are natural part of a life-changing event is just not healthy. Furthermore, depending on what the secret is, keeping it usually only ends up hurting those we love, those who have trusted that they are part of an inner circle where truth reigns.
Don't get me wrong. I think that there is a time and a place for full disclosure. You might not want to walk into your job one day and spill your deepest, darkest secrets to your spouse. You probably shouldn't confide the things you keep closest to your heart to your college roommate on the first day that you meet him.
However, your spouse and those who you have chosen to trust as close friends deserve your honesty. They are expecting it from you as part of the unspoken deal we have with one another when we make relational commitments with one another. And inevitably, it's more painful to have the secret forced out than it is to just put it out there and learn to live with it. And if there's one thing I know, it's that the secret will always come out.
So as you grow, and as you learn to develop deep relationships with one another, with us as your parents, and with people you choose as your friends, remember that honesty still really is the best policy. Some adages actually are true.
Love,
Mommy
Undoubtedly, this is a saying that you will hear, and maybe even speak, many times through the course of your lives. It's been around forever, but lately I've been thinking about how often the advice is actually heeded - or not.
I'm listening to a book on CD while in the car. Usually not with you guys because your constant chattering makes it hard to listen to anything but you, and I'd rather talk to you anyway! But when I happen to get away by myself, I listen to this book. Like many other novels, the main character is keeping a major secret from those he has grown close to in the small town where he lives. The secret is eating away at him and, while I haven't finished the book yet, I know that at some point towards the climax of the book, the secret is finally going to be spilled with uncertain consequence.
The thing is, this secret isn't that big of a deal and while I'm enjoying listening to something that doesn't rhyme or doesn't have Mickey Mouse's voice anywhere in it, I'm struggling to figure out why this main character just doesn't come clean with his secret. Or why we all don't.
I am convinced that when something major happens to a person, he needs an outlet to process what's going on. That outlet doesn't necessarily have to be a person - he could start a blog! :) But keeping big things inside and not working through the feelings and effects that are natural part of a life-changing event is just not healthy. Furthermore, depending on what the secret is, keeping it usually only ends up hurting those we love, those who have trusted that they are part of an inner circle where truth reigns.
Don't get me wrong. I think that there is a time and a place for full disclosure. You might not want to walk into your job one day and spill your deepest, darkest secrets to your spouse. You probably shouldn't confide the things you keep closest to your heart to your college roommate on the first day that you meet him.
However, your spouse and those who you have chosen to trust as close friends deserve your honesty. They are expecting it from you as part of the unspoken deal we have with one another when we make relational commitments with one another. And inevitably, it's more painful to have the secret forced out than it is to just put it out there and learn to live with it. And if there's one thing I know, it's that the secret will always come out.
So as you grow, and as you learn to develop deep relationships with one another, with us as your parents, and with people you choose as your friends, remember that honesty still really is the best policy. Some adages actually are true.
Love,
Mommy
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