What a Terrible Mom!

On a hot summer day, I arrived at the McDonald’s indoor playground. All week, it had been too hot out for this pregnant momma and her two kids, so I decided lunch and indoor playtime was in order. So off to McDonald’s we went.

As we ate and the kids went to play, I noticed the other people in the room.

Nearby was the mom whose daughter wasn’t allowed to have a happy meal or a soft drink. A few tables down was the mom with at least five kids, and from the looks of it, perhaps more. Sitting with her was the woman whose baby lay in an infant carseat while drinking its bottle. And there was also the mom whose two year old was allowed to drink a sweet tea. (That last one was me.)

So, according to the hierarchy of mommy judgment, where do we all rank? I thought it over and decided I would probably rank myself somewhere below “no happy meal” mom because of what I was letting my kids eat and drink. I also decided I’d probably land below “mom of 5+ kids” because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have the energy or patience to bring five children to a McDonald’s playplace. Or perhaps anywhere.

But I do breastfeed my babies and carry them instead of bringing them inside in carseats, so does that mean I rank above the “bottle and carseat” mom? Some people might say yes. (I don’t think that, for the record!)

Then again, we were all sitting in a McDonald’s playplace, so that kind of puts us all at the bottom of the list compared to the all-organic non-consumerism types who would never step foot in McDonald’s, right?

Of course, this whole ranking system is completely ridiculous. The truth is, none of us rank above or below anyone else. And yet, as parents, at some point each and every one of us have been been judged or have judged others. We find ourselves self-consciously looking around the room, trying to figure out exactly how we stack up and whether we’re doing okay.

Interestingly, as the time at McDonald’s went on, I discovered that the “mom of 5+ kids” and the “bottle and carseat” woman were there together and were babysitters. Some of the children may have indeed been theirs, but many were not.

And that’s a perfect example of why it’s unwise to judge someone based on a snippet of their life that you just happened to glimpse. You just don’t know other people’s situations. Here are some real-life examples for you: Maybe you’re a breastfeeder and the woman you’re judging is bottlefeeding her adopted baby. Maybe you’re a babywearer and the mom you’re judging for bringing her baby inside in its carseat is battling depression and it was a major accomplishment for her to get out the door that day and come out in public. Maybe the mom being harsh in the store has had a very stressful day– perhaps she’s going through a divorce or there’s been a death in the family, or she’s just tired and at her wit’s end that day. For that matter, maybe the kid who’s throwing a tantrum in the store isn’t a spoiled brat with permissive parents; perhaps he’s overtired, has sensory issues, or is hungry. Maybe the couple who doesn’t have children is dealing with infertility or repeat miscarriages. Maybe the couple with more kids than you would ever personally want to have is absolutely in love with their family and wants to continue adding to it.

And maybe not. But you don’t know. And you aren’t entitled to know, either. You are not entitled to know someone’s story in order to decide whether or not to judge them. 

What good does it do to judge people anyway (whether silently or aloud)? What good does it do to glare, roll your eyes, or shake your head in disapproval? (Non-verbal judgment, loud and clear!)
Instead, why not offer a smile or a kind comment, or even take time to strike up a friendly conversation? Love for others is sometimes that simple. As Mother Teresa once said, “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

So forget about this parenting hierarchy junk. Quit making snap judgments. Stop comparing yourself to others and trying to figure out where you, and they, rank on some imaginary chart. We all have our own stories, struggles, motives, and choices. And we all could use a little more love and a little less judgment.

Life With a Little One: Bedtime Routine Chart

I read about this in The No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers, and I thought it was a really great idea. Obviously, having a bedtime routine is a good idea; kids like the predictability of knowing what’s coming next, and it’s helpful for parents to have a routine to follow too.

But the idea here goes beyond simply having a bedtime routine. With the bedtime routine chart, it’s written down in a place where your child can see it and illustrated with pictures so they can understand it (especially helpful if your child can’t read yet). The book suggests either cutting out pictures from magazines to correspond with each bedtime routine activity or using pictures of your own child.

I decided to use pictures of our 2 year old because I think it personalizes things a bit for him to see himself and his familiar environment on our chart.

It was very easy to do. First we had to come up with a routine that works for us (something we hadn’t been doing very well up to this point). Then I just took pictures, got some poster board, cut the pictures down so they were all about the same size, and glued them to the poster board in the right order. Beside each picture is a brief description of what we do. I love that having this visual will also help with understanding numbers and sequencing (pre-math and pre-reading skills). Learning experiences are cool.

Here’s the finished product:



We’ve had the chart for a week now, and our 2 year old loves it. Within a couple days, he was “reading” the chart to us by pointing at each picture and telling us what was happening. If I ask him what 1 is, he says “bath.” Pretty neat!

By the way, The No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers is full of awesome ideas. Creating a bedtime routine, gently helping children learn to fall asleep on their own, teaching kids to stay in their own beds at night, and solving all kinds of other common sleep problems for kids ages 1-5… it’s all in this book. It’s an invaluable resource for parents of toddlers and preschoolers, in my opinion. There is also a version for babies under the age of 1, called The No-Cry Sleep Solution.

Some Things Are Personal

People love to speculate about what the apostle Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” may have been. We see someone as influential as Paul and we cannot help but wonder what weakness or temptation he regularly struggled with. I think perhaps it makes us feel a little more “okay” to know that someone like Paul struggled just as much as we do. It means we’re all human.

I have wondered why Paul never specified what his struggle was. But as I reflected on my own experiences, it began to make a bit more sense to me. There are plenty of things that I’ve struggled with that I am very open about. I certainly never want to give the impression that I’ve got it all figured out. And as I read Paul’s writings, it seems that there were some things in his life that he was very open about as well.

But there was that one thing, the “thorn in the flesh,” that was not shared openly other than to say that it was there. And I can definitely understand that. You see, there is something in my life that I’ve struggled with for quite some time now, something that only my husband and three very close friends have ever heard me speak of in a specific, detailed way. Why? Because it’s personal. Because I’m ashamed of it. Because I’m afraid of what people would say if they knew. Because I’m afraid I would lose friends. Because it’s not always wise to share the details of your biggest struggle with anyone and everyone.

Paul’s struggle may not have been similar to mine (or who knows, maybe it was!). Perhaps, like me, he had a close friend or two who knew what his “thorn” was. But he did not have to share it publicly if he didn’t feel like he had a very good reason to do so. Some things are just personal, and it’s okay to keep them that way.

So that’s my theory on why Paul never specified his struggle in his writings. Can you think of any other possible reasons for this?

The Impostor

Sometimes I have conversations with myself in my head. Weird? Perhaps. But hopefully slightly less weird than having them aloud. In public.

Anyway, I had one of those conversations recently. I was telling myself that I feel like such a hypocrite sometimes. I can’t understand how I can have the heartfelt conversations I have about God, and truly believe the things I say I believe, and yet simultaneously struggle with some of the things I struggle with. I feel like the darker side is the real me, and the faithful side is an impostor and a liar. And one of these days, everyone is going to realize it and I’ll be exposed for the hypocrite I am.

And then I answered my own complaint in a way I had never considered before.

“The side of you that you don’t like, that you’re ashamed of, that struggles with temptation and sin– that is the part of you that is an impostor. That part is the liar. The faithful part– that part is the authentic you.”

How can that possibly be true? I wondered. And another answer came. “The old has gone. The new has come. You have been made new; you have been redeemed.”

My soul is clean. I have been made new. Yes, there is a sinful part of me, a dark side. But it is not the authentic me; it is not who I was created to be. It is the impostor and liar, and it is not what I should ever allow to control me. I should not let it stop me from sharing my faith and worshiping God.
I read a quote recently that went along beautifully with these thoughts of mine, so I just want to close with it:

As a former seminary professor of mine once reflected, “Anyone who articulates the gospel articulates it as a hypocrite, someone who is trying to live it out but failing.” Except for Christ.

This Is Grace

I tossed and turned in bed, feeling discouraged. It seemed that I was always fighting this battle. Sometimes I thought I had finally won, only to have the struggles creep back in just when I thought everything was going well. And that night, frustrated, I told God that I don’t want to fight this battle again. I’m exhausted and weary.

And I felt this answer: “Stop fighting on your own. Let me fight it for you. This is grace.”

Grace. Unmerited favor. God sees that we cannot possibly meet his standards on our own, and rather than leaving us to fight it out, strive to do better, and fail over and over… he has offered a way for the standard to be met through him. All the striving and trying to be perfect is out the window; we are free to have a relationship with him based on his love and grace, not our own ability and performance.

I can’t fight the battles on my own. And the amazing thing is, God doesn’t expect me to.

This is grace.

Guilt and Shame

In current Christian culture, I have observed quite a bit of guilt and shame used to attempt to motivate people to do more. We are constantly reminded of how blessed we are in America and how we should be doing more and giving more to help others. And that may be true, but wrapping up the truth in a package of shame is not an effective way to move toward long-term change on a heart level. Guilt and shame may temporarily motivate people to outward action, but they are not pathways to long-term inner change.

All too often, Christian culture will tell you that unless you’re giving up everything and dedicating your life to going overseas and ministering to people, you aren’t doing enough. There is this misconception that anything less than that is selfish.

For example, there are some who will criticize the act of giving money to organizations that help people. They would say that by doing something so small and “sterile,” you are really just refusing to actually get your hands dirty and help people in a hands-on way. In other words, you can walk away feeling good about yourself for “helping” without actually having to help. This attitude really bothers me. Giving financially to an organization absolutely does require real sacrifices for many people. And for some people, going to help in a more hands-on way may not be feasible, for a variety of legitimate reasons.

Unfortunately, even those who are able to help people in a more hands-on way are not immune to the guilt and shame critics will heap upon them. Short-term missions trips get their fair share of criticism. I have heard it said that people just go out of the country for a week or two to satisfy their selfish desires and to travel, and then they can come home and pat themselves on the back for all the good they’ve done. Meanwhile, the people they helped are still suffering and just have people revolving in and out with no permanency.

How is it encouraging to say that it is not enough to make sacrifices in order to give money or to help others in a hands-on way? Certainly if a person is being called to something more and is attempting to ignore it or satisfy the calling with a little money or a two-week trip, then yes, for them that is wrong. For them, it’s not enough because it’s not what they are actually being called by God to do. But to generalize that to everyone who gives money or goes on short-term trips is also wrong. It is not our place to tell others what God is calling them personally to do.

The church can encourage generosity and love without heaping pressure and shame on people. Sometimes I wonder if we start thinking that God isn’t doing a good enough job of changing people’s hearts and so we jump in and try to do that for him. Unfortunately, we often mess it up when we start trying to do that. Instead of making people feel as though they aren’t doing enough by giving money or going on short-term trips, let’s encourage people to listen to God and do whatever he is telling them to do.

Helpless

Too often, when I hear stories that break my heart, I let the brokenness fade without ever doing anything about it. While it is tempting to chalk it up to pure selfishness, I honestly think there is so much more to it than that. I’ve been able to identify a few different reasons that I do this, and I’d like to explore some of them here.

As I become more aware of the needs and suffering in the world, it is very easy for me to become emotionally overwhelmed. I mentioned in my last post that I’m a fixer and an empathizer; when I am aware of a need, I tend to feel it deeply and desperately want to fix it. And because there are so many needs in the world, it is impossible for anyone to fix them on their own. For that matter, on my own, I may not be able to completely fix even one thing. I am only one person who is already stretched in many different directions.

A feeling of helplessness follows closely behind feeling overwhelmed. Too much is broken; there are too many people suffering all over the world. And I begin to feel as though anything I can do still isn’t enough. It feels like a tiny drop in a vast ocean of need, and I wonder if the small contributions I could make will actually be able to help anyone in any way. Unfortunately, I have learned that this doubt is all too often reinforced by Christian culture, ironically in an attempt to motivate people to do more. I have a lot to say about this, but I’ll save it for the next post. I don’t want this one to get too long.

Have you ever insulated yourself from the suffering of others because you felt overwhelmed or helpless?