Stepping stones of faith

A few weeks ago, my friend Brandi Rennemeyer contacted me and asked if I'd be a guest blogger in a series appearing this week on StandwithHannahJoy.com. 

Brandi is helping some other friends of mine write a book about the amazing, challenging and faith-building journey they've had with their daughter, Hannah Joy, who suffered a serious near-drowning accident in 2011. To help pave the way for their story, they asked a few friends to write about their own "deep waters," journeys that have illuminated the faithfulness of God.

I initially told Brandi "no." It had been a long time since I'd blogged about anything. I've spent the last five years immersed in caring for my two young boys. As a journalist, I have always been more comfortable writing about other people -- their dreams, struggles, challenges and joys. 

But Brandi was asking me to do something on a more personal level. She encouraged me to keep thinking about it. I did, and felt like the Lord gave me something to say.

Here's that story of God's faithfulness.

"Aha" moments

Most of parenting is full of “everyday” moments – changing yet another diaper, explaining the same answer to the same question, encouraging kids to share for the 10th time in a single hour. But sometimes there are significant moments that change your perspective, not only about your kids, but also your place in their lives. I had a moment like that last week. 

We were at a park, and my oldest (almost 5 years old) was playing with a few boys older than him. After a while I noticed two of the boys hitting and teasing him. 

My first impulse was to step in, but something held me back. I wanted to see what my son would do, but I’m also making more of a concerted effort to let him work out his own problems.

I kept watching as they continued with their teasing, and he pushed them away. He got away from them and hid his face. 

The boys said, "Awww, he doesn't like us." My son looked up. "No, I never said that,” he responded. “I just want you to stop what you're doing. I never said I didn't like you."

One of the boys got in his face. "No, you don't like us." This exchange went on a couple more times. Finally the boys walked away from my son, and he retreated to a place by himself.

I let him stay there for a minute, and then walked over to him. " Are you OK, buddy?" I asked.

"Mommy, those boys were being mean to me. I didn't like it. But now they think I don't like them. But I never said that. I just didn't like them punching me." 

"I saw what happened,” I told him. “I’m sorry. What are you going to do?" I asked him.

"I don't know. I just want to be by myself right now."

So I let him be. A few minutes later, my son returned to the group of boys.

"I don't like it when you punch me, but I still want to be your friend,” he said. “But friends don't hurt each other, OK?"

And they all went on playing together.

As I thought later that night about what happened, I made a couple of observations:

• A 5-year-old can distinguish between behavior he doesn't like and "liking" the person. How interesting that there are a lot of adults who can't or don’t do this. Think of the world we live in, the opinions we read about, the squabbles that take place over social media. Somehow disagreement has become equal to rejection. We have lost the fine art of being honest and respectful -- without writing people off and without abandoning friendships and relationships. We have much to learn from our children.

• My first inclination at the sight of watching this scene unfold at the park was to be a helicopter parent. I wanted to whisk my kid away from trouble and tell those boys to leave my son alone. I'm glad I didn't do that. I saw something in my son explained only by God at work in his life. Sometimes I think we rush take the credit (or blame) for what our kids understand and how they respond to life. Certainly we have an important role in those things. But there is no junior Holy Spirit. When we have Jesus in our hearts and lives, even at the tender age of 5, we get the real deal.  I shouldn't be surprised that God reveals His wisdom to those with simple faith. 

•  After we got home from the park that day, I talked to my son about what had happened and how proud I was of how he responded to the boys. "You did the right thing," I told him. "Liking someone doesn't mean you like everything they do. Loving someone means telling the truth and standing up for yourself. But you went back to them and tried to make amends. You cared about them in your heart." I could tell by the look on his face that he needed those words of affirmation.

My little boy grew in wisdom and confidence that day. So did I. 

I'm back!

I started this blog in 2007 -- eight years ago! For many reasons, I've let it fly under the radar. Mostly it's because life happened to me and my husband in the form of two beautiful sons -- Evan was born in 2010, and Will arrived in 2012. My main job is to care for them, and they are the joy of my life. But they also take up most of my life, so blogging has obviously taken a back seat.

But it's been on my heart for a while now to resurrect this little writing experiment of mine. I've never intended it to be anything but a place where I can express my thoughts, dream a little and ask questions. You can find me on Facebook and Twitter. But those things have their place in the world. A place to dream, to think, to ponder, they usually aren't.

I'm glad to be back here. I'll post from time to time, as the Spirit leads, starting tomorrow with some of my thoughts as of late. On Friday there will be a little something special.

Happy reading, my friend.