Parenting

Anyone Else Want To Dance In February Instead Of Sit In Despair?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

As mentioned last time, my head was in my hands, a cloud of despair surrounding me, weighing me down.

Regardless of how I was feeling, I had to make a choice. Do I take another fun pill, declare another ski day, to distract from this swirling pit beneath me, my life, that threatened to consume me?

Or did I put on my work pants, and get busy constructing a new life for myself and for my homeschooling family, one that we would have the strength to complete all the way from September to June?

And you? Is anyone else feeling the February pull into that familiar black hole of despair?

How do we dance in joy through the dark month of winter?

1. We lift our despair, scoop as much as we can in our hands, and we lift this offering to God.

2. We listen. We reattach our ears. We practice the habits that are the glue helping our ears to stay stuck.

3. We tell others in our trusted community what we think the spirit of God is whispering. The sounds are muffled and garbled, and the sound waves pass through our hearts mixed with wrong motives, so we have trouble understanding.

4. We look for our dancing shoes. Where are they again? Where are those dreams? Where did we last leave them? Who did God say I am, again?

5. We gingerly take His hand and step onto the dance floor of our lives. He is in the lead, not us. Will we humbly let him lead our lives? Will we give up our right to drive our own car and our accompanying future car wrecks to learn how to dance?

The choice is yours. The choice is mine.

Come on, friend! The adventure of a lifetime awaits us! Get up off that couch!

God, all of us long for a good father who holds out a hand to help us up when we fall. The one who has everything we need to open the right door of opportunity for our future lives.

You are that Father.

Open our eyes to see this.

May we trust You more deeply. Help us get off the couch to escape from the lies we believe about ourselves and our lives.

You alone offer us genuine hope for our futures.

May we have the courage to step onto the dance floor with You.

Teach us to dance.

As you meditate on the words below and listen to the song below, take deep breaths and practice quieting your heart before God.

You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I’m about to burst with song;
I can’t keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can’t thank you enough.

The Message

Cry out to Him. What gift do you imagine He is giving you?

Quiet your heart again, and then ask God how He sees you. What do you feel? What does your mind imagine?

Is it time to look for some dancing shoes?

Don’t Despair! The Monster Scaring You Is Only February!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Head in hands again. Trying to shut out the noise. The kids with their needs swirling around me.

We are homeschooling in February.

I sat on the couch, overwhelm consuming me. Do I declare (another) fun day and take the kids cross-country skiing?

Should we call all our homeschooling friends and organize (another) hockey party on the free outdoor ice rink?

Do I give them as much “independent work” as I can and try to tackle the mess of stuff in the basement, the pile that seems to have acquired a life of its own and that roars at me as I pass like a Yeti in the basement?

Or do I confront the emotions in my heart that are spilling out onto the couch next to me, a mess I am trying to hide but that is emerging despite my best efforts to pretend I am confidently steering this homeschooling ship?

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to hide behind the fun. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that our home is so disorganized that we can no longer find pencils to do our math. Or that no one cares. “I like using a green pencil crayon for math, Mommy!” she asserts.

She is not trying to make me feel better. She is genuinely happy. Her needs are met.

And mine?

“I’m not worried about the kids,” my husband would assert. “I’m worried about you.”

So I offer you tea and a listening ear, dear homeschooling Mom and Dad, and ask:

How are you?

Not how are your kids?

Not how is the state of your home (We know it’s a disaster. You homeschool!)

How are you?

People who suppress feelings experience less positive and more negative emotions.

APA PsycNet

And then your tears, and your head in hands, and I put my arm around you to comfort you.

Husbands, put on a helmet first and then TRY asking your wives if PMS is real.

You know the answer, or you will find out soon enough.

Similarly, the homeschooling in February blues is real.

I want to propose (shout out to Mystie Winckler for the essence of this paragraph’s wisdom!) that the path we walk through the regular monthly cycling of our emotions gives us a hint for how we walk through the annual cycling of our feelings during the homeschooling year.

And February is hard.

Now, I know that you don’t have time for a dissertation. Your child is pulling your arm already, something is burning on the stove, and you have dog vomit to clean up, but you need some help. Now.

Don’t quit homeschooling in February.

If you take the advice of the sentence above, then go! Go and get through the day! Well done, Mom and Dad!

If you have another 5 minutes, here is an explanation for the statement above.

When sailors would navigate using the stars, how would they do it? They would choose their course on a cloudless, moonlit night. “I am heading north-east,” they would assert, and set their hearts and sails in that direction.

On a cloudy night, when the stars were invisible, and they didn’t know which way to go, what did they do?

They kept sailing in the same direction.

February, head in our hands month, is a cloudy night, desolation.

Ignatius describes desolation as “. . . darkness of soul, . . . the unquiet of different agitations and temptations, . . . when one finds oneself . . . as if separated from his Creator and Lord.” . . .

Ignatius warns us that someone in desolation should never change an important decision . . . made when they were in a state of consolation.

The Jesuit Post

Keep sailing in the same direction.

How do you do it? How do you survive one more day, you ask desperately? I’ll give you some tips, held like cherished gems in my pocket from long years on the sea, at another time, friend, because our time together has ended for today.

But oh, desolation is an opportunity for our growth.

May you reach your destination.

However, you may not end up where you thought you were sailing.

That is His way.

The “Unwanted” Baby Is Wanted By All?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I’m wiping the tears from my eyes again.

It was movie and popcorn night. We watched UnPlanned, the astonishing, true story of Planned Parenthood Director Abby Johnson’s journey across the line from Choice to Life.

We were all undone.

As my tiny and insignificant contribution to this whirlwind topic of our day, like a feather battling a windstorm, I include below a poem I wrote.

May our prayers reach the ear of God, that the prevailing cultural winds would change direction and blow the feather toward God again and again and again . . . we pray.

Lord, have mercy on us, all of us, for we are a sinful people.

And may we pause to consider the following:

Simon Peter [who] . . . fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.”

The Message

and

If . . . my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health.

The Message

They Say She’s Not Wanted

They say she’s not wanted in this world.

Yet I’ve seen her mom, belly swelled in mystical expectation, nervously meeting prospective adoptive parents for the first time. Tears flowed on all sides at the first introduction, bonded somehow at the initial meeting. I’ve chatted with her mom many times while she lay curled up in the womb.

My heart broke for her mom because she could not raise her now.

I met her birth grandma and cried with her over the expectation of the first grandchild in the family.

The fulfillment of a grandmother’s dreams was not that the child would be whisked from her arms before they would know each other well. “You take good care of her,” the grandmother whispered to the adoptive mother through tears.

I’ve met her birth father.

A boy-man, wearing the tough guy mask in front of his friends and family. I sat with him while he, head in hand, sobbed a mountain of anguished tears, knowing that her birth mom could not stay with him forever and be the family unit that he dreamed of.

I’ve cried with him too.

I’ve also met them – the crowds of families, with polished faces and pages full of dreams in shiny dossiers, cartwheeling over each other in efforts to impress. They plead, “Please pick us. We want her. We want to be her family. Oh, won’t you please pick us?”

I know them because I was also a member of one of those families. And our family was chosen. And oh, how the aching in our hearts was finally filled with love and gratitude for this cherished life.

Thank you, birth mothers, birth fathers, and birth grandparents, for standing firm in love and truth, regardless of the shifting sand of popular opinions.

We honor you, and we love you.

Thank you for placing your child in the arms of a family who will love and care for her.

Thank you for allowing this child to thrive in the healing love of all of us in her extended birth families and her extended adoptive family.

And we share a secret, don’t we?

Even if they don’t know it, we know these children are wanted by MORE people than can be counted.

The Best Way To Be Less of A Jerk? Pretend To Be Someone Else!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I found myself still in pajamas, curlers in my straight hair, yelling at my homeschooled kids to get up, get dressed, and get to their work!

The only problem was that I hadn’t done any of those things yet.

They pointed out my inconsistencies and went back to playing Nintendo, their little pajamaed butts mocking me as they lay on their stomachs, resuming their play.

Why did I bother teaching my kids logic, I wondered, wearily. Now their reasoning skills match mine.

I needed a bigger bullet to fight in this homeschooling war.

I scoured books, and homeschooling journals, and cried with my fellow homeschooled moms, all of whom were also still in their pyjamas. They could relate with empathy.

The best military strategy I found was to:

1) Get up early,

2) Get dressed, and

3) Put on lipstick, a nice scarf, and a smile.

In other words, I was pretending to be someone else.

By default, I had been acting like Mrs. Name-changed, the Grade 1 teacher I didn’t like. Mrs Name-changed always forgot to wear deodorant and to mark our assignments. She was always in a bad mood.

Then I remembered my favorite Grade 3 teacher, Mrs. Chamberlain. She looked nice every day and had a sweet smile.

If Mrs Chamberlain had some characteristics that I wanted to emulate, then I needed to choose those same characteristics until those traits became a part of my identity too.

The question is:

Who Are We Becoming?

I chose Mrs. Chamberlain.

And it worked!

My kids’ logic that “I wasn’t doing it either” was finally cancelled, and they reluctantly put Nintendo away, meandering to their rooms to find their (non-pajama) clothes, unused these past 3 months, since homeschooling started this fall.

And what is the lesson, here, I wondered, as I sipped martinis by the pool later that afternoon, ringing a small bell to usher them onto their next subject?

The lesson is best summarized in a popular TED talk by Psychologist Amy Cuddy. She said our BODIES change our MINDS (our thoughts and feelings). Therefore, we can:

“Fake it until you BECOME it. Do it enough until you actually BECOME it, and internalize it.”

Amy Cuddy

The lesson is, WHO ARE YOU?

But friends, that’s exactly who we are: children of God. And that’s only the beginning. Who knows how we’ll end up! What we know is that when Christ is openly revealed, we’ll see him—and in seeing him, become like him. All of us who look forward to his coming stay ready, with the glistening purity of Jesus’ life as a model for our own.

The Message

When we understand who we are, we have a shot at becoming aligned with who God created us to be.

Time to switch off the iPads, stop scrolling through Amazon for more stuff to fill the void inside, and dig out the royal clothes that are in the very back of your closet, the ones God gave you so long ago, that you forgot they were even there.

Then:

1) Let’s get up early and rest in who God made us to be instead of running in frenzied circles like everyone else.

2) Let’s put on our royal robes as children of the King, our true identity.

3) Let’s gaze at the One who gives us His identity as we align our lives with what He is whispering to the deepest recesses of our hearts.

So let’s step into the truth of who we really are, the ones Jesus died for, and the ones who have found our identity, which is those who abide with Him. And this identity is enough.

As the music below plays, consider asking God, “How do You see me?”

If We Laugh More, We Can Dominate Others More!

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

I was frustrated, kicking the ground as I walked. Homeschooling is impossible enough without this additional hurdle lying prostrate before me. I didn’t have enough speed to make it through the regular hurdles of life. . .

. . . nevermind this race I’m running strewn with toppled school desks, kid’s toys, and homeschooling supplies.

We did a personality test for a fun homeschooling project.

The results scared me to my core.

My daughter, the one who has been slowly asserting dominance over me every time my back has been turned since she was, oh, about two months old, has a personality that is – get this – most similar to a lion.

And my personality?

Not a lion tamer. Nope.

Not a blue whale, larger than life.

Not a great white shark, terrifying those within a several kilometre radius.

My personality, most unfortunately, given that I have a lion-like child trying to bite me whenever I’m not looking, is best compared to . . .

. . . a sweet and gentle creature whose favorite past time is to play.

My personality is most similar to that of an otter.

“And HOW is an otter supposed to lead a lion?” I yelled at God that day, kicking the path as I walked.

“All that kid wants to do is eat me!”

Try being David when your child is Goliath. Sure, it’s one thing to vanquish Goliath in a one-off contest using an unexpected weapon. But LEAD Goliath, David? Day after day? Good luck!

And that’s my job.

Also the strategy of “hide a bit and hope to survive until, oh, 8:30 am when the school bus comes each day” won’t work for me.

Nope.

This kid is with me 24/7.

We homeschool.

What was I thinking taking on this mammoth task?

“God!” I called out, my anger turned to desperation. “How is an otter supposed to parent a lion?”

And the picture He gave me in my mind that day as I walked changed everything.

The picture was of an otter, front legs straight out and entirely touching the ground, tail wagging.

Now pause here because this picture has meaning to dog owners. This is the position dogs assume to indicate it’s playtime.

And the rest of the picture?

The lion assumed the same pose, following the cues of the otter. Behind the roaring facade, she wanted to have fun.

She just didn’t know how.

Play with her, God whispered.

And I was given a tool that unlocked my daughter’s heart and opened a new parenting door for us, leading to a beautiful place.

I understood what He was whispering.

The lion will WILLINGLY submit to the otter so she can play.

The next day, when that little lion led me to an emotional place I never wanted to visit again, I stopped myself from following her lead.

I wasn’t in the mood to play.

But “Let’s play,” I announced.

I thought, “Let’s play a game where I try not to wring your little neck.”

But when I took the reigns, went with my natural strengths, and played with her, even though I didn’t feel like it, the little lion unwound herself and laughed a bit. And she hugged me.

And she was so dang cute that we played a little longer, and soon, I was having a great time, too.

I was leading again.

She naturally followed.

But this is the weird thing.

She came under my leadership for the rest of the day.

Fifteen minutes of play transformed her into a little lion-otter, expectantly waiting for me to help fun tickle her side at any moment.

And I made it through that homeschooling day.

Reflecting that night with a glass of wine, I asked my husband to promise to help me remember to proactively PLAY with my little lion so I could dominate her.

Er. . . LEAD her, I meant to write.

Whatever.

The point is that God has a solution to our EVERY problem.

And who knows? Maybe this strategy would work in other situations?

Try it with your boss. Tell him he’s a loser, and then laugh. See if you get that promotion after all!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

God, thank you that our mammoth problems are tiny piles of sand to You, that can be blown away with one breath of Your Spirit. Speak to us and remind us to hide beneath Your wings, the place where You hand out both love for us, and wisdom for our myriad challenges, we pray.

He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.

Ancient Text

The Funniest Christmas Letter?*

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Someone (who?) once said that a picture is worth 1,000 words. But what do they know? We think the funny things we say to each other are worth thousands of words.

So here you go. Funny things our family said last year in the categories of love, homeschooling, confidence, random thoughts, and flatulence.

On Love

Andy to me: “You look pretty.”

Me: Thinking, “After 22 years of marriage I don’t get that compliment every day!”

“Why” I ask him aloud, thinking, “Is it my hair? I just went swimming. My new exercise outfit?”

Me . . . persistent . . . “Why?”

Andy: “I think it’s because you told me to lie down and rest instead of help clean up after supper.”

Me: (!) (!!) (!!!)

Andy to me: “If we didn’t have a dog, where would you put all your affection?

Would you hug and squeeze us to death?”

Me… “Whaaa???”

– 5 minutes later –

Me: “I squeeze you. I squeeze you.” Kiss, kiss to Siri, our dog. Then wait! I remember…

Kyah: “Good morning! I missed you all night long!”

On Homeschooling

Usual unusual homeschooling moments

There was a homeschooling event a two-hours drive away.

Kyah called her friend’s mom: “Hi. Can you please drive me to the homeschooling event because my mom doesn’t want to because it’s too far and she doesn’t feel like it. So is it OK if you drive me instead?”

First-world homeschooling problem.

Esther: “Ah! I’m going to be late for class!”

– A few seconds later –

Esther: “Ah! I forgot to re-curl my hair after our walk! I’m going to be very late for class!!!”

Kyah, one Wednesday morning after math class: “Hi Mom! I decided what two new languages I want to learn, besides Spanish!” (Braille and sign language)

On Confidence

Andy to me: “You’ll be awesome!”

“Wait, is that snot on your face?”

Me: “How was church today?”

Andy: “I had a big hunk of peanut butter on my face from breakfast the whole time I was at church today. I went and spoke at the front and everything!”

Me: “Oh bummer! How did you know that?”

Andy: “Kyah told me in the car on the way home from church.”

Esther after doing hours of scholarship applications: “I never thought I would get tired of thinking about how amazing I am. I never want to talk about how amazing I am ever again!”

Random Thoughts

The words in brackets below are what I imagine the owners of the store to say in response to the questions on their street signs.

(Toilets inside)

(Cold showers inside)

Flatulence

I wish I was mature enough to leave out the fart jokes, but alas . . .

Person to remain unnamed: “Watch out for my silent laugh.

It’s usually a sign that I’m going to fart.”

I was using the microphone function to draft a text. Andy said to one of the girls “Who farted? Was it you?”

Those exact words were transcribed into the text to my friend.

Finally, the big news, if you haven’t heard is that Esther grew up and moved out to attend University (We’re very proud of her!). We got both a super cute bunny to play with . . .

and a large houseplant to sit in her old homeschooling area to replace her.

(To find out how I’m actually adjusting to this life transition, check out this post, or this one, or this one).

I’m fine, ok!

One last quote to finish off this letter:

Me: “I feel like I have a lot of stuff going on right now.”

Andy: “I do too, but I don’t know what they all are.”

What a great summary of our year!

That’s all. We hope you can read between the lines and feel updated with all that’s happened in our family last year!

Merry Christmas!

May your joy deepen profoundly this season as you ponder and reflect on the true meaning of Christmas.

Blogpost Footnotes

*Does that mean you’re making fun of us?

The Best Christmas Was The Most Painful Christmas

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

I held my head in my hands, the non-physical pain consuming me, twisting my body to reflect my inner state.

The mother placed the baby in my arms and spoke of WHEN I took her home, enveloped her in our family. This baby was the gift that came no less miraculously than a child that emerges, astonishingly from one’s own womb. Except she traversed from God, through another’s womb, through the arms of another mother, into my arms.

And like a child ripped from her mother’s arms, she was taken from my arms and placed in another home.

We were pleased that the child would be taken care of, her needs met, thrive in a loving home.

And yet the pain in our hearts was only partially placated.

Every human soul carries its own pain within.

A loved one passes, an illness, a broken relationship, broken dreams, general ennui, desperation, hopelessness, despair. . . The waves of trouble that break over the human soul break us too, as our souls hit the rocks, making us bleed from the trials that have arrived on our doorstep, unbidden.

We open the door to today and the tidal wave of disappointment has arrived. We are left sitting on the floor alone in our world, unable to stand.

As we look around for a hand to help us up, something to hold onto, it seems hope is a long way away sometimes.

Can you see it?

I couldn’t either.

And then Christmas knocks on our door with the request to give to the needy, to distract ourselves with shallow merrymaking, to make ourselves sick with food that is sweet in the mouth and cancerous to the bones.

“Is this all there is?” we ask, our Santa hats adorning our heads in an effort to embrace the spirit of the season, our TV remote flipping from channel to channel, waxed chocolate at the fingertips.

Numb, again.

Another Christmas season has arrived, and we are numb.

No!

The old life is gone; a new life emerges!

The Message

That Christmas, the one when I could hardly breathe, I took off the old.

I crossed off the list of people that we were “supposed” to buy presents for. No more presents for friends, friend’s kids, extended family, parents, grandparents, my spouse. “And no presents for me,” I announced. We bought a few small gifts for a few children. And joy returned.

I crossed off the list the duty to make the Christmas treats I made every year, unthinkingly. I tried a few simple treats with a healthier spin. And joy returned.

I left the box of Christmas decorations in the basement unopened. When I finally gazed inside, I pulled out a few items that were handmade by friends or had sparked a particular delight, or a cherished memory. And joy returned.

I said no to every party, to the ones we were expected to attend that were too loud, had too much drinking, and too much shallow joy. We had a couple of quiet celebrations with a handful of friends or family, and good food. And joy returned.

No more expectations. The old has gone.

And the new life emerging?

And like the caterpillar that makes time for the quiet of the chrysalis, we too made time for the quiet.

– Time in the quiet morning hours, seeking my King

– Time for Christmas church services, as we sought to awaken our senses to the awe of the season through the life of the babe in a manger

– Time for a hug or a smile or an understanding look, more, more often from those around me

I spent time every evening that season with our little toddler at the outdoor skating rink. The one that is free.

When we fell, we would laugh and then sit quietly together for a moment noticing how the lights rimmed the rink, peering through the darkness. I could almost discern the light of the season through those lights.

And like the lights shining in the darkness, at the skating rink that is free, His free gift of love burst through my heart a little more often in the quiet mornings, in the moments of quiet at the worship services, in the quiet smiles of those whose lives I stumbled across.

And each smile was like gazing into another’s soul because I took the extra moment to see them, to know that they too, being human, have heart wounds. Can my smile, my love, be a drop of healing ointment to them, as theirs is to me?

And it was the best Christmas of my life.

As the song plays, consider asking God: How can any anticipated pain of this Christmas season be transformed into joy?

Anyone Else Find Some Parts Of Halloween Disgusting? Let’s Steal Halloween! (Shhhh…)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Yes, I did design a blog post around this picture.

This is my dog.

I had to find a way to get this picture in front of your eyes. We can end this post now. Some things are just worth 20 bucks including this dog Superman costume.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, I told you all to leave now.

But…

Since you obviously have nothing better to do, I will tell you my thoughts on why we should take over Halloween! We should all host a “Pentecost-Halloween Party”.

Now before all of you go to Wiki to look up a term I will spare you that hassle. Yes, Pentecost has something to do with God.

And yes, Halloween, at least now in our culture, has a lot more to do with the religion of Satanism (I said the word that must not be said in our culture! Satanism! Satanism is a religion! Open your eyes, people!)

For those of you rubbing your eyes trying not to go to sleep as this post irritatingly blasts its contents into your ears, the point I’m trying to make is that Halloween and Pentecost don’t go together very well on their own terms.

Here’s my logic for hosting a “Pentecost Party” on October 31:

  • December 25, what we now celebrate as Christmas, used to be an important pagan celebration, the birthday of the sun.
  • The Christians got together and (essentially) said, “Hey! We don’t like that a pagan holiday is the most important celebration in our culture! Let’s pretend that Jesus was born on December 25, even though he wasn’t, and we’ll slowly steal the focus away from these weird pagan rituals (killing cats etc). towards baby Jesus as a hope for the world.”

They will name [Jesus] Immanuel (Hebrew for “God is with us”)

The Message
  • And like many crazy ideas it worked!

Now, let’s not get technical in calling Christmas a purely spiritual holiday because I know that buying a lot of presents and then returning them the following week when your relatives aren’t looking isn’t exactly the pinnacle of Christian high culture.

Some Christmas carols, however, are essentially hymns, and many of these songs are the pinnacle of high Christian culture, even if our hearts need a little stirring to unblind our eyes to this reality.

The point is, that Christmas still has a holy essence to it if you know where to look, shining your flashlight into the darkest corners of our holiday culture.

So my rationale is let’s do this for Halloween!

Halloween is now the weird Satanic holiday. (I.e., killing cats and pretending that other fearful or gross things are actually funny! They’re not, by the way.)

So sure, the liturgical calendar may be out of order a bit, but let’s change the date of Pentecost to coincide with Halloween for the same reason the early Christians changed the date of Jesus’ birth to coincide with the birthday of the sun.

Pentecost was the day that Holy Spirit breathed on the disciples. This was the day when a bunch of his cowardly followers changed into bold outspoken preachers for Jesus Christ, most of whom were eventually murdered for their beliefs.

So that’s why my dog got a new costume.

And that’s why I asked some homeschooled kids (because let’s face it, homeschooled kids are a part of the hope for our society) to join us for a Pentecost dress-up party coincidentally on the day we used to call Halloween.

Go on! Have your own Pentecost Party on October 31! Have more fun than them! Then invite them to your party!

Three ways to take over Halloween at your Pentecost Party on October 31:

  1. Carve pumpkins because – well, it’s fun. Why wouldn’t we? Carve crosses into the pumpkins. This was my daughter’s idea. Let the candle inside shine it’s light through the cross of Jesus Christ and remind us that His kingdom is hope for our culture.
  2. Have you seen those dog dress-up costumes that look like a monkey riding on the back of your dog? If you find one, can you please send it to me? Thanks. Oh yeah, point number to dress up! Why not? It’s fun!
  3. Remind each other that a few loser fishermen (have you ever noticed what the disciples were like before Jesus was resurrected?) by the power of Holy Spirit, ushered in The Message that altered the course of our world.

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.

Margaret Mead

What are you waiting for?

Go eat some candy and change culture!

Bond With Your Homeschooled Child By Teaching Her To Swear!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Today I thought I’d teach you how to bond with your homeschooled kid by swearing at him!

This is a real-world example from my own life. 

The weirdest stuff in life is true so that’s how you can be assured I am telling the truth today.

So one day, I found my 12-year-old looking downcast, despondent. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked.

“Well, Mom, I’m 12 years old and I don’t know any swear words!”

“Oh, hon! I’m so sorry to hear that!” I said, reaching down to hug her.

“Tell you what,” I continued. “Do you want me to teach you some swear words?”

“Oh, would you?” Her eyes filled with admiration for me and the wonderful real-life wisdom I possessed. She hugged me, unable to contain her emotions. Kids DO want to learn what parents have to teach them! These homeschooling moments are precious!

All that week we planned the best time to have our special mother-daughter date so I could impart my wisdom to her. 

Finally, the magical day arrived. We skipped math that morning so we’d have ample time to connect through profanity (Another important benefit of homeschooling). We walked on the beach so the ambiance would be just right, and so we’d remember this special mother-daughter homeschool bonding time.

“So what is one of the swear words?” she impatiently asked.

I found myself spelling out the F-word for her.

She sounded it out in her mind and then said aloud, “FOO-ka?” “Close enough,” I answered. 

I’m not sure how she muddled through junior high with friends from all sides of the innocence-experience continuum. 

And she may have had a few more black eyes from friends who didn’t think she was cool enough that year, come to think of it, but she got to the other side.

And what a wonderful homeschool bonding experience we enjoyed!

And now, you too, can enjoy this special bonding experience with your homeschooled child! Here’s how: 

  1. Don’t swear for at least a decade. Yes! I know this is impossible, which is why I included Point #2! Be patient! I can’t share all my wisdom at once!
  2. If you do swear (i.e., You can ignore Point # 1 now. You’re welcome), swear with tricks up your sleeve so you have the advantage*. For example, in our home, it’s not that we didn’t say any swear words for 12 years. It’s just how you swear that matters. If you swear, quickly distract them with a random question about cupcakes as in, “Do you want a cupcake now?” And they won’t even remember the swear word!
  3. Recognize the limitations of this approach. One problem with this approach is that they suddenly figure out you swear a LOT once you teach them what the bad words are. Oh well, I guess we have to prepare these homeschooled kids for real life!
  4. Watch them soar! And now that they know how to swear like the other kids, the world is their oyster!
  5. Forgive yourself for swearing and for other ways you may have accidentally messed up your kids! 

Since we’ve compiled this long and sorry record as sinners (both us and them) and proved that we are utterly incapable of living the glorious lives God wills for us, God did it for us. Out of sheer generosity he put us in right standing with himself. A pure gift. He got us out of the mess we’re in and restored us to where he always wanted us to be. And he did it by means of Jesus Christ.

The Message

Translation: This ancient text basically says that God already knows you’re a dork!

And since God already knows you’re a bit pathetic most of the time, you can relax and have some fun with your kids!

Blogpost Footnotes

*Bonus parenting wisdom: Check out magician and master of trickery David Copperfield for additional excellent tricks that can be applied with surprisingly little variation to parenting!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

Mourning Together With Coyotes Is Healthy

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

My dog is smarter than he looks.

I mean, he doesn’t look that smart when the fire engine or the coyotes are howling outside, and our dog howls along with them.

Does he not know he is not a fire truck? Or a coyote?

But he is definitely smarter than he looks.

For example, once on a walk, I suddenly heard coyotes howling very close to us. (There is a real world outside of LA where actual trees and flowers exist!).

I quickly grabbed onto his leash. I was certain my fluffy mini-golden doodle would head for the middle of the pack and howl along with them, making his dog dreams a reality (Being called a “doodle” is never cool in coyote society. Being called “fluffy” doesn’t help either. Or “mini.”)

But instead, tail between his legs, he hunkered down and ran home, me stumbling along behind him.

When we got safely inside, and he was protected by a locked door, he opened his mouth wide, and howled in freedom, just one of the pack.

He somehow knew that the coyotes would eat him if they got a chance. But that didn’t stop him from also knowing that mourning with others is healthy.

I feel the same way actually.

I know I will never be accepted into a pack of coyotes.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I want to learn to mourn, to lament in my community with the freedom of a coyote.

“. . . weep with those who weep” Ancient Text

You may think you’ve heard coyotes wail because you watched a John Wayne movie once, but the lamenting, prolonged howl of a group of coyotes is really nothing like that.

Coyotes send shivers down your spine when you hear them mournfully wailing.

You kind of think they’ll shut up after a few minutes but they don’t. It can go on for hours, sometimes in the middle of the day.

“What in the world are they crying about?” I finally wondered.

Coyotes mourn in packs in the fall, when a younger coyote sets off on his own. (I read that on the internet*.)

And so this is what we can learn from coyotes:

1. They mourn together as a group and out loud.

2. They mourn about one thing, and then gracefully interweave their sadness to other stuff that is also breaking their little hearts. (Give me a break here – I know we can’t read the minds of coyotes, but this is my interpretation of what they’re saying. Do you have a better idea of what coyotes think about when they mourn in the fall? No, I thought not!)

3. This grieving process helps them. I mean most of the time coyotes are pretty well-adjusted, right? 50% of them are not sucking back Prozac or the equivalent, like us humans. Maybe we can learn from them.

I’ll explain what we can learn next time.

* Scientific Information Source

The Nature Conservancy: “There’s also a lot of contradictory information – and complete nonsense – written about coyotes.”

Blogpost Footnotes

No! I’m not a coyote-ologist or whatever that’s called. No! I’ve never even studied coyotes. Why do you ask?

Oh! I did read a really funny Canadian classic book once called Never Cry Wolf, and wolves are sort of like coyotes, I think. Does that count?

Anyway, I know the next blog post outlining what I’ve learned from coyotes will help you.

You’re welcome!

Good luck!