Tag Archives: parenting

The Hidden Truth of People-Pleasing

I learned valuable life lessons from the sitcom “Cheers.” From Norm: find your group of people who notice when you are missing. From Sam: everyone’s story and everyone’s trouble deserve to be heard. From Woody: it’s okay to say ridiculous things! And from Diane: do not be a people-pleaser, which is life-long learning for me.

People-pleasing is prevalent among Midwestern women in particular. From our hard-working grandmothers, we learned to contribute and stay out of the way. Don’t create extra work for people. Be easy company to have around.

The lessons I learned from my family did not match Diane! Growing up, I wondered why this character was so hard to be around. Why did she say sharp words and when she could be more agreeable? She constantly upset her friends, demanded to be heard and disrupted the calm in the room. Diane was no people-pleaser.

Are you a people-pleaser?

“What would like for dinner” Marcus will ask on the weekends. “Whatever you make,” I reply.

“What can I help you with?” One staff member will ask another at church. “Oh, I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine,” we joke, gently turning down the offer.

Among siblings, one is often a people-pleaser. (Hello there, middle children!) When a parent explains, “I have one hard kid and one easy kid,” it is likely the “easy” kid is easy because the “hard” kid is hard. One sibling becomes more agreeable and people-pleasing as a response to the less agreeable sibling to keep the family calmer.

Beware if you have an ultra-agreeable child, partner or friend. Is there a way you might lovingly encourage that person to channel their inner-Diane and speak up? Or even better, model this practice yourself. The problem with people-pleasing is the way it hides the actual person and their actual thoughts, worries and ideas. The people-pleasing version of a person is an edited version.

Diane spoke sharp and honest words, even though they were not the words people wanted to hear. You knew where she stood and what she really believed, shaping her character on the show.

I’m not suggesting we should be carelessly honest with no consideration for others. However, try this:

  • Notice when you withhold your honest thoughts, ideas and worries because you do not want to upset someone. Then take it a step further. How might your own honesty lead to a better decision, or help the other person become more responsible, or bring you closer to a friend or partner?

This is risky, I know. It is easier to keep our actual thoughts, worries and ideas to ourselves. To be easy company. To be known as agreeable and not like an emboldened Diane. Yet I suspect God’s hope for the world is not a population of people-pleasers who avoid the hard conversations!

What is the cost of agreeable? The Holy Spirit’s wisdom goes unheard. Your unique perspective shaped by your unique life experiences is missed. The version of you that you present is milk-toast compared to the authentic you whom God created. Relationships get stuck. Work loses its excitement. What truly matters to you (and possibly even to God) goes unsaid.

Another lesson I learned from “Cheers” is that everything works out in a span of 30 minutes! Well, you can’t believe everything you learn from tv.

Photo by Jelleke Vanooteghem on Unsplash

A Parent’s Practice of Holding On & Letting Go: Part Three

In one of my favorite books, “An Altar in the World,” Barbara Brown Taylor points out how difficult it is to get lost. As long as there is a phone within reach, and there usually is, you know exactly where you are.

This is both comforting and…a bummer! Getting lost is a practice that can be traced back to Abraham and Sarah. Taylor suggests God’s only reason for choosing these two not-young people to create a nation was their willingness to enter a wilderness and get lost.

Getting lost can be a spiritual practice. When we cannot rely on Google Maps to guide us, we might be awakened to our need to rely on God to guide us.

This is the last post in this series. You are accompanying me through a season of getting lost. In this season of parenting, I am finding my way through a new wilderness. Earlier this week, we dropped off our oldest to begin basic training for the Army National Guard.

This particular wilderness looks like it does for anyone who has dropped off a kid college, except we have no contact with him until the Army says so. This is the intentional process – an abrupt entrance into the wilderness for him and for his parents.

While I shuffle my own way through the wilderness, so does my son. He is in a new place among new people all because he was willing to get lost. Getting lost is a formative process, and as Taylor describes it, leaving our established paths, we might discover neighbors we never knew we had.

He may come out of this wilderness with friendships and experiences that enrich the rest of his life. The wilderness gives us up to the care of our neighbor. Time in the wilderness better positions us to notice the kindness of strangers, writes Taylor.

In our home, we are short one Lewton, yet we are, all of us, in a wilderness, which I guess is nice. Every variety of transition is a one-way ticket through the wilderness, where the strangers we encounter may be God in disguise.

Have the paths in your life become too established? Or are you, like my family, moving through a wilderness time? If so, notice the strangers. And let God be your guide, as you let go of the map for now.

Photo by ALEXANDRE DINAUT on Unsplash

A Parent’s Practice of Holding On & Letting Go: Part Two

One 4th of July, I tried to make a red, white and blue dessert. I remember there were strawberries, blueberries, cream and Jello involved. When made correctly the layers resembled an American Flag, each color distinct from the next. When made by me, it was mostly purple. The layers melded together. Instead of resembling an American Flag, the dessert reminded you of Barney.

Parenting is something like this. The ongoing challenge is to keep the layers from melding together; to distinguish one person from the next so that the relationship recognizes each distinct person in it.

On Monday, we will drop off my son at an airport. He will fly from there to basic training, where we will meet him for graduation in 10 weeks. Today, we are living in the waiting period, which is where the layers easily turn to purple.

Here is what I mean.

  • I feel sad, but my sadness should not meld into his feelings. He feels excitement (among other feelings). My feelings are mine and not his.
  • I feel apprehension. What is my son’s future? Despite Isaiah’s prophecy, swords are still lifted up. Spears were not beaten into pruning hooks. War remains a possibility. Yet my own apprehension need not be his. He needs to feel his own way through the uncertainty.
  • I feel loss. He will miss many moments in the next ten weeks. Birthdays, holidays, senior prom, and his own high school graduation. And yet, my role is to support his decision that this is the right next step in his life. My own sense of loss needs to remain my own.

Feelings are such a bugger. They spill out of us and, I’m learning, feelings are created by electrical activity in our brains based not as much on reality as our own human experience. Feelings can make our relationships meld together; when anxiety is high, it is easy to forget where each of us starts and stops.

This requires letting go. I can sort through my feelings and offer to help my son sort through his, but in the end I can only let my son’s feelings be his own. I can recognize my own concerns without trying to make them his. I can love and support him by paying attention and tending to my own feelings.

I find that prayer helps. In prayer, I can commiserate with God, who reminds me that my son is his own person and I am mine. As the conversation unfolds, I hear the reminder that letting go is better than holding on. “Just remember the Barney disaster,” God won’t let me forget. “I remember.” God doesn’t mind eye rolls.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

A Parent’s Practice of Holding On & Letting Go: Part One

Parents can pack a lot into a life: sign kids up for activities, drive them around to travel sports, desperately squeeze in family dinners, arrange the play dates, teach them how to do this and that. And finally, host the graduation open house.

It happened.

High School graduation is a new milestone in our family. Our first born graduated early in his rush to be an adult. Following his lead, we hosted a very small open house in our living room, enjoyed his favorite foods, walked back in time through the baby books, and marveled at the man in his senior pictures.

An open house is like hitting a pause button, instructing the graduate to wait here for a moment to let it all sink in.

Milestones offer space to reminisce. “Remember that sleepover when you turned six, and I let you invite six little boys because I didn’t know any better?” “Remember your K-5th grade teachers?” “Remember when you tried that sport?” “Wait here while we remember.”

Of course, we can only wait here for so long. We hold onto those old stories like a hot potato knowing eventually we need to let them go, both the stories and the boy.

I’ve learned more than I could imagine in these days since his open house. I now know this is an exhausting milestone! I am weepier and wearier than I expected to be, more uncertain of how long this particular grieving process will take. Whenever we let go of something familiar or significant, this is called grieving. Grieving is the practice of letting go and holding on, it is something parents must do on the regular: letting go of the boy and holding onto God’s promise that God goes with the boy from here.

Meanwhile, God sticks around to hang out with the weepy woman. God has seen this episode before and knows when to hand her a tissue. And therein lies the promise. Throughout our lives, we humans get a great deal of practice letting go, while God does the hanging on.

Photo by Gerhard Reus on Unsplash

Coming Soon: A Parent’s Practice of Holding On & Go

Something quite usual will happen in a few months. Kids will graduate from high school! Although this happens each year, for some of us this milestone is a first.

It is our oldest ordering a graduation gown and mailing announcements. For the first time, we’ve made room on the wall for the senior photo, the one his future family may look at one day and say, “Wow, you were young once!”

Yep. He was young once.

My son hustled through high school when he realized he could earn an income more quickly if he graduated early. So, he did. It’s done. He is a 2024 graduate! If you are a subscriber, I’ll be sending you a newsletter with some super handsome senior pictures!

Milestones are meant to celebrate! They stir up in us a great big pot of feelings. There is gratitude and joy, lament and worry, regret and hope. I wonder if you might walk with me through this parenting season. This is a season of holding on and letting go.

Next week I’ll begin a three-week series to unpack some of these feelings, and to remember together that in the letting go we are free to love these young people like grown-up people.

Photo by Baim Hanif on Unsplash

Sermons and Reels

Hanging out in front of the tv with my daughter last night, I watched what she likes to watch. Often it’s Mr. Beast on the screen, essentially a slightly awkward game show host who gives away exorbitant amounts of money. Or Hopescope, who tries out products she sees on social media.

Last night, she was watching video clips on Youtube called Youtube Shorts. This version of social media reels are, as the name implies, short, lasting 15-60 seconds. They feature ordinary people providing quick entertainment. One person impressively sang and played the piano. Another explained a video that had gone viral, posing as a news reporter. Someone else painted herself green and pretended to marry Duolingo.

The videos went by quickly, one after another after another. And I noticed this was not relaxing for me! There was no time to enjoy one video before the next one started up; no room to get to know the entertainer or appreciate the person’s talent. Perhaps my attention span is too long for Youtube Shorts? Who knows.

I’ve been pondering attention span since listening to an episode of The Ezra Klein show called “Tired, Distracted, Burned Out? Listen to This.” Parents in my generation were among the first to hand their kids a smartphone and then wonder what the heck just happened! It is now normal for a kid to carry around a smartphone by 6th grade. Like many parents, I quickly learned the content and restrictions, adding screen time and downtime limits. My kids signed a covenant before they could enter their first passcodes. I did my best with what I knew at the time.

And now I know I cannot sit through Youtube Shorts! But my kids sure can. The speed of the clips does not bother them like it bothers me. They adapt more quickly and maybe even process what they are seeing more quickly.

It’s important for parents to note that just because something is different and makes me feel slightly uncomfortable does not necessarily mean it is wrong. It’s not wrong that my kids adapt more quickly. This difference in processing does not mean my kids are doing something wrong because I grew up without the same technology.

It does mean that preachers like me need to wonder what will happen with sermons. Unlike 15-60 second clips, sermons are (among Lutherans) 12-15 minutes long, that’s 720-900 seconds.

My sermons are not entertaining like Youtube Shorts, nor are they meant to be. And the Lutheran church is not known for its entertaining light shows. Never has someone left a Lutheran worship service to say, “That was so entertaining.”

Worship, including preaching, is not intended to be entertainment for the consumer. Instead, it is meant to draw a person into a deeper trust in the God who calls us to share Christ’s love by serving our neighbor. To do that, sermons rely on words. Will words, even profound ones, be enough to engage a generation that processes technology incredibly fast?

It may be the first preacher to ask this question was reacting to the invention of the radio! This is not a new question for the church. For now, Youtube Shorts are not my favorite even though my kids enjoy them. I will keep discerning how to faithfully proclaim the ancient promise of God’s saving love in Christ to a people whose brains may be changing, but whose need of this good news is not.

Photo by S O C I A L . C U T on Unsplash

What Did You Learn This Week?

The kids may have been the ones returning to school the last week or two, but you, beloved child of God, must have learned something, too!

Turn around to see the past week. What did you learn?

  • What did you learn you could do that you hadn’t thought you could do?
  • What did you learn that you miss?
  • What did you learn about someone you love?
  • How did you spend your time? What does that teach you about your values?
  • How did you spend your money? What does that teach you about your values?
  • What did you learn about yourself that actually you had learned before, maybe several times?
  • What did you learn that made you change your mind about something (or someone) you thought you knew?

Being human is such an experience in lifelong learning! Here are a few things I learned in the past week:

  1. The job of a teacher continues to be one of the most remarkable jobs in the world. So often in America we make the mistake of valuing jobs based on pay. But the indelible mark a teacher can make on a student is, I hope, a great reward. Thank you to the teachers who have made my kids more confident and wise.
  2. In England, cilantro is known as coriander. Who knew! Thank you, Cody Rigsby. Perhaps someday I may need this information.
  3. Tweens REALLY prefer not to listen to their mothers. “Are you sure you want to wear a sweater when the high is 85 degrees?” Yes she was sure. And then she was hot.
  4. Letting go happens in fits and starts. My boys are now more like men, my daughter is settling into middle school. It is easy to step too far back, or easy to hover too closely. Yet like all relationships, what matters is a particular kind of presence. A presence that is not demanding. A presence that exhibits how you both care deeply and respect the other person’s boundaries.

Learning can be exhausting, which may be why kids don’t like to talk through their day the moment they get in the car, even though I want to hear all about it! But thank goodness for learning. How else would I know that cilantro goes by more than one name! What a world.

Photo by Eric Brehm on Unsplash

Not-So-New

It is the season of the new, yet no-so-new.

A new school year begins, surrounded by millions of school years that have come before and the millions that will come after.

New pencils and notebooks find new homes in desks previously occupied by other students, and someday occupied by other students.

The lockers frustrating this new class have seen those frustrated faces before, and not for the last time!

While a new school year may produce anxiety in kids, there are helpful reminders that what is new is also not-so-new. The new school year begins with the not-so-new presence of Christ. The new schedule unfolds with the not-so-new promise that Jesus hangs out in classrooms and hallways, on playgrounds and monkey bars, at lunch tables and lockers.

Jesus keeps us company with his not-so-new peace, not-so-new mercy, not-so-new tender love. With his not-so-newness, we begin a new school year, just as we did before, just as we will again. And we will see, not for the first or last time, that Jesus is already there.

Photo by moren hsu on Unsplash

Who Are Your People?

Prior to becoming a parent, I pictured our home as a welcoming space for our kids and their friends. I hoped ours would be the home where tweens and teens would hang out, eat snacks, and watch movies. I imagined I would stock the pantry with their favorite foods and every friend could grab their favorite soda and chips and feel at home in our home. The bottomless cookie jar would be a way for me to connect with my kids’ people – the peers who would surely influence my kids in many ways. 

Across the generations, every person needs people. Ideally, your people are a support while at the same time they challenge you to grow. Your people have a deeper understanding of you than others. They know you are a normal human being who falls apart, yet they do not judge you for it. Your people encourage you to think beyond yourself and they forgive you when you fail. 

I imagined encouraging my kids to gather with their people in our home because I know the importance of hanging out with your people. Your people shape who you become. 

One of my favorite definitions of church comes from a guy my age. He felt most at home one Sunday at worship when he looked around at the guys in his Bible Study group, also at worship with their families. These are my people, and this is my church, he explained. 

You, fragile human being, need people to call your own. People to reflect Christ’s mercy and remind you not to hustle through life or push through alone. Having people to call your own takes time. 

You, busy human being, need people to bring out your best. People with whom you can be comfortable in your own skin – the most honest and hopeful version of yourself. 

With a new season of fall and an academic year around the corner, how would you like to hang out with your people? How about… 

  • Create a standing, weekly appointment for morning or evening drinks. 
  • Take turns hosting in your homes each month. The host provides the space and the guests provide all the food. 
  • Go to church together and then donuts. No planning needed. 

It turns out, my kids do not gather often with their people at our house. I hope not, but there is a slim possibility that kids might be scared off by the superintendent and pastor in residence! Which is ironic. Our particular jobs can be lonely at times and my husband and I understand the importance of gathering with our people. We are most grateful for the people whom we call our people.  

I hope that we are modeling for my three favorite kids the importance of hanging out with trusted friends. Your people shape your life and you must be choosey and encourage your kids to do the same. Although my kids’ people are not often at our house, the cookie jar is almost always full, just in case. 

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash 

You Need More Than a To-Do List

“For everything there is a season, a time for every matter under heaven.”

Ecclesiastes 3:1

This verse has been rattling around in my brain. It is the upcoming Scripture reading in the Narrative Lectionary, one of the readings for a wedding tomorrow, and the passage I shared earlier this week for chapel at the nursing homes.

Yet even without those connections, Ecclesiastes’ words hit home in August. For many of us, this is the season of school shopping and new schedules. The matters under heaven have to do with bus stops and books, phones and friends.

Last night I had a mini-date with my planner, where the seasons and matters under heaven are written.* Paging through the symmetry of the days and weeks, you can see Ecclesiastes is right – there is a box on the page for every matter. The seasons fit onto pages. We move from one box to the next, one page at a time. There is a sense of peace in seeing what comes next, at least according to what we’ve written out.

In Ecclesiastes, chapter three, he writes out the seasons as though he is constructing a planner page. There is a time for this and a time for that – a box, a page, a space. But his planner pages have no registration deadlines or meetings or medical appointments or early release days! In chapter three, there is more of a to-be list than a to-do list. The boxes and pages of the planner Ecclesiastes is writing contain instructions for how to be human.

  • One day you, you will laugh and be filled with joy. On another day, there will be time to weep.
  • In this space of time, be sure to keep silent, and over on this day speak up.
  • Take time here to dance, and take time there to mourn.

Does your planner remind you simply to be, amid all there is to do? In the busyness of the days and weeks, do you remember to laugh, weep, stay silent or speak? Is there a day for dancing and a day for mourning?

And whose planner is it, I might add? We can look at the days to come with only our best guesses. It is less of a planner and more of a guesser…which still won’t stop me from having a mini-date with my planner because it’s one of my favorite things.

But like most aspects of our lives, if we hold on too tightly, we miss what is important. With our eyes glued to the planner (or the guesser) we cannot also see what will make us laugh, or weep, or leave us speechless or emboldened to speak. The planner will tell you what to do, and Ecclesiastes will remind you to be.

If the upcoming months feel full, how might you remind your future self to take a moment in the mayhem to keep company with Jesus?

*If you are a person who nerds out over planning and planners enough to have a date with your planner, you might also find wisdom from Sarah Hart-Unger.

Photo by 2H Media on Unsplash