Tag Archives: parenting

If I’m Washing Dishes, Look Out

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If my life were a movie, there would be a hundred scenes of a crabby me washing the dishes. It isn’t that I do not enjoy washing the dishes. It’s not the worst chore. What ticks me off is that washing the dishes is someone else’s chore. And that person seems to “forget” the assignment and get lost in a screen. Instead of maturely asking the person to wash the dishes, to quote any toddler you know: “I do it myself!” And the wrath of Lisa is felt at every corner of my home.
“Mom,” the person will later say, “I would have done the dishes…eventually.”
And it’s true! Eventually, had I been more patient and mature, that person would have washed the dishes without my transforming into such a crab. I could have ignored the dirty dishes and read a book, but instead, I jumped in and overfunctioned.
This is one of my biggest human struggles. And as you will notice in yourself, struggles within your family relationships often match your struggles in your work relationships. At home and at work, I tend to agree to do something before I think it through.

At home, when we overfunction for a spouse or child, typically that person learns to underfunction. We teach people how to treat us. To balance out a relationship, one person’s overfunctioning perpetuates the other person’s underfunctioning. In a marriage, we might adopt this relationship based on marriage as we saw it growing up. For instance, in the marriage we saw growing up, one partner did all the cooking while the other watched tv, so that seemed normal. Or maybe one partner constantly worked on the marriage while the other jokingly (but not jokingly) complained about it. In both of these examples, one partner is overfunctioning.

Roberta Gilbert described overfunctioners in this way:
“Advice-giving,
Doing things for others they could do for themselves,
Worrying about other people,
Feeling more responbility for others than is actually needed,
Knowing what is best for others,
Talking more than listening,
Having goals for others that they don’t have for themselves,
Experiencing periodic, sudden ‘burnout’ or severe illness in other forms,
Taking charge of others’ lives,
Doing well in life, but someone close to them is not.”

Underfunctioners, on the other hand:
“Ask for advice when what is needed is to think things out independently,
Get others to help when help is not needed,
Act irresponsibly,
Listen more than talk,
Float along without goals,
Set goals, but don’t follow through,
Become mentally or physically ill frequently,
May have substance addiction problems,
Put others in charge of their lives.”

The goal in a relationship is for each partner to be equally emotionally responsible. For the overfunctioner, Gilbert points out, this sounds preposterous! The overfunctioner assumes he or she is the most responsible, but in truth, overfunctioning simply perpetuates the problem. She points out the best way out of an over/underfunctioning relationship is for one person to ask, “What is my contribution to this relationship pattern?” That’s a bugger of a question. It means I cannot blame my kid for neglecting the dishes again!

In any relationship, each of us plays a part. If you step back and look at your life like you would watch a movie, you will notice the part you play. From there, you can thoughtfully work to change patterns that need changing.

A New Way to See Your Life, Part One

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So, you want to be a better mom.

You read some books and pick up a few new techniques. Meditation makes you more patient and extra sleep makes you less crabby. You love the new and improved you!

But then life gets stressful. You don’t have time to meditate and the hours you could have been sleeping you spent worrying. You can’t believe what a terrible mom you’ve become. It’s as though no matter how hard you try to be better, you remain only human!

Every mom wishes she could be a better mom. Each year, more than $16 billion is spent on parenting books and nearly $10 billion on parenting-related apps. Moms try hard, carry so much guilt, worry every possible worry for our kids, and criticize our partners for not worrying enough. When a woman visits me, their pastor, with real struggles like these, I encourage her to be gentle on herself. Jesus already saved us, so the hard work is already done. You are God’s beloved, I remind her.

Then I ask questions to wonder with her how she grew so worried:

“Where does you guilt come from? Whose voice is telling you to try harder?”

“How do you manage your anxiety?”

“What would it take to dial back how hard you’re trying?”

And this one might seem out of place, but it’s important: “What would you like your own life to look like these days?”

This month, I am sharing with you a new way to look at your relationship with your own self, with others, and with the society in which you live, no matter where you live. This particular way of looking at life, called systems thinking, has guided my work as a pastor and at the same time my life as a wife, mom and daughter. Disclaimer: Systems thinking will be wildly interesting for you Enneagram 5’s (here’s looking at you, Audrey!), and perhaps a lot of words for others. While it might seem complicated, I hope you will stick with me each week and watch as you look at your life in a new way. Like algebra, each blog will build upon the next to complete the equation.

Also like algebra, you are who are you today based on the building up of unique experiences in your life, particularly in your formative years. Research suggests most of us continue to pattern our lives using what we learned of relationships growing up. How we experienced conflict and family togetherness in our original families informs our expectations for our own families. This is neither good nor bad, it is simply important to know.

I hope these next few weeks transform you into a bit of a detective. With enough curiosity, you might see a new view of your life and become more aware of your mature and less mature responses. Our lives can be factories of anxiety, which easily brings out the worst in us. Although meditation and extra sleep are lovely, they are not as effective as getting to know your most important asset: you.

Glossary
Systems Thinking: A theory of how individuals and relationships function.
Maturity: Being responsible for your own emotional self and life direction. No one is mature 100% of the time. Think of all the sleep-deprived and hangry mom! 70% is a healthy target.
Anxiety: Emotional intensity that can be acute (short-term) or chronic (last many years or generations). Anxiety (including stress and worry) is constantly present in our lives. Depending on our maturity at the time, we have agency to choose how to react or respond.

This 5-part series was inspired by my reading of this book, and I will continue to refer to her work: Extraordinary Relationships: A New Way of Thinking About Human Interactions. By Roberta M. Gilbert, M.D. Second edition: 2017.

Book Review: Fourteen Talks by Age Fourteen

One difference between parenting littles and teens is knowing what to say. Littles erupt with questions and deeply desire for their beloved grown-ups to answer them. Teens seem to deeply desire you are there when they need you, but mostly hope you stay quiet. During the teenage years, the eruption of questioning reverses from the young to the old, but the old quickly realize, unlike the young, that questions must be rationed. I find a reasonable average of questions to be 3-5, depending on when they last ate.

I am convinced every parent of teenagers only pretends to know what she or he is doing. When I hear a recommendation of a book for teenage parents, I want to hope to find just the right wisdom in that book, but most parenting books seem to me to be aspirational. Raising teenagers is freaking hard and no book has easy answers. Kids are humans and therefore too complicated to be reduced to a manual.

But this book! I cannot remember how I happened upon it, but it is the very best parenting book I’ve read. I borrowed the audio, read by the author, from our local library. In Fourteen Talks by Age Fourteen, Michelle Icard guides readers through talks that overwhelm parents like me. Tough stuff: friendship, sexuality, pornography, hygiene, money, how to dress, privilege, and behavior. She is funny and yet grounded, honest that the role of parents is never to protect kids from the world but to equip them to move around the world safely.

Her acronym is easy to implement into conversations with my teenagers and has been a helpful guide. Icard calls her framework for conversation the B.R.I.E.F. Model:

  • Begin peacefully.
  • Relate to your child.
  • Interview to collect data.
  • Echo what you hear.
  • Give Feedback.

If you have kids or grandkids who are teenagers or soon to be teenagers, this book will challenge you. What grown-ups like to do (when we are not at our best) is to apply our own teenage experience to the lives of teenagers today. This is an excellent method to raise defensiveness in teens and immediately stop a conversation.

A better way, provided by Icard, is to be intentional in deciding when to have a tough conversation. And to respect teenagers enough to give them a heads up. “Begin peacefully” is great advice for beginning any tough conversation, not only with a child, but with a spouse or co-worker. Be careful when you enter into a thorny conversation. Don’t do it when you are tired, hungry, or ticked off at someone, including your child.

Even though teenagers are quickly gaining independence, there is so much they are trying to figure out from moment to moment. In many ways, it has never been more challenging to be a teenager. They have access to every kind of yuck on their devices, and so they need a loving and forgiving guide to be there and begin those conversations peacefully, not out of anger or fear.

When I drop off my daughter at school (the only person I drop off anymore) I remind her “Jesus Loves You,” and she does the same for me. I cannot walk with her through the hallways or around the playground, but I can do my best to prepare her for situations she might encounter. And more importantly, we can remind one another that Jesus’ love does not expire, and it is not revocable. Jesus’ love cannot be undone. Teenagers, like all human beings, easily forget this promise. We make mistakes and then make the mistake of assuming our mistake undoes the promise of Jesus’ love.

Although I can attest to how hard it is to raise teenagers, I can also tell you it is much easier when I get to remind them (probably more than they prefer) that Jesus loves them, all the time.

Laundry is a Sacred Act

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Welcome to the season of routine! <insert cheering from roaring crowds of mothers> I took a peek at my daughter’s new planner (because she is my mini-me) to discover both birthdays and days of room cleaning all assigned to their proper days. Ah, the power of rhythm and routine.

With age also comes the power of forgiveness when rhythm and routine are disrupted or adapted. Truly, few things are sacred in our lives. If you pause to ponder what is truly sacred in your life, what might that be? Family connections? Health and well-being? Friendship? Sharing? And Jesus, of course. Most questions a pastor asks you can be answered, “Jesus.”

For me, doing the laundry is sacred. The washing and folding and praying for the people who will wear the things you wash. (Disclaimer: I stopped doing my kids’ laundry when they were five because laundry pods are awesome. But I do on rare occasions move their laundry from here to there or wash the random items that are abandoned in the living room.) Tucking away the towels, hanging up the coats, the infrequent scrubbing of baseball caps and shoes. This is sacred work I try not to rush. I hope my prayers become lodged in the fabric, like chocolate stain that will remain there forever. I hope these woven in prayers will speak up, somehow, when my child of any age feels inadequate, overwhelmed, frustrated, pressured, or lost.

I’ve noticed it’s not so tough to encourage a younger kid in her or his faith. It’s the older variety that poses the challenge. How do you pray for the kid, who for the sake of maturity, needs to grow some distance between you? It might be the bigger the clothes you end up moving or washing, the more prayers that are needed to weave into all that fabric! “Big kids, big problems,” you have heard. We can also say, “Big kids, big prayers.” Or, “Big kids, big community,” by which I mean kids need extra love from the people around them.

It’s so easy to step back when kids need healthy distance from parents and guardians, but perhaps it just means we step closer to them in prayer. It is letting go of the influence we once had in their younger years, and trusting the woven-in prayers, and the accompaniment of our Lord to guide and guard them always.

Could daily prayer for kids, grandkids and neighbor kids be part of your new academic year rhythm and routine, if it isn’t already? If you are retired and you miss the feel of the new year, your new homework could simply be the sacred practice of prayer. Pray for families getting ready in the mornings, that their words are kind and their snacks healthy. Pray for kids who eat lunch alone, or who feel alone even though they are sitting with others. Pray for playground peace and collaborative classmates. Pray for supportive friendships and self-kindness.

Just as a parent of young kiddos will tell you there is always laundry to do (thank you, chocolate stains), there are always prayers to pray.

Stepping Back to See the Map

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Listening to a podcast last week, I heard an inspiring story of a mom whose daughter is in college. Each morning, she texts her daughter a simple greeting to let her daughter know she is thinking of her. It is not a manipulative way of checking up on her daughter or a sneaky tactic to start a conversation. It is: “I am here, you are there, and I want you to know I care.”

This story has me wondering how I let my kids know I care without letting my day or my life be shaped by how (or whether) they respond. The most complicated wisdom of parenting is knowing where I start and stop, and where each kid starts and stops. For example, if each of us is a state on a map, there are recognizable boundaries that keep us from spilling over into each others’ lives. As long as I don’t get too stressed or tired, I can mostly see the boundaries and avoid these situations:

“I noticed he/she did not do the dishes. It’s her/his chore, but it would be much easier if I just do it myself and then I wouldn’t need to look at those dang dishes all day!”

“I need to make time for myself to rest, but everyone needs something from me and so I respond to their needs instead of my own.”

There are a million examples of how difficult it is to hang in there with our kids while also challenging them to grow. Parenting is always both at once. It is showing up and stepping back; watering the garden without overwatering. Parenting is so many hugs and also some tough words.

What would make life easier is if each kid required the same proportion of hugs and words, the same volume of water, the same amount of showing up and stepping back. It is God’s greatest joke on guardians and parents, that we get to reinvent much of our parenting style for each individual human we raise! Good one, God of the universe who raised an only child. Some of us are doomed to be lifetime reinventors.

If you look around your life today, can you recognize a spot on the map where you would like to clarify the boundaries? You might quickly see you need to let go of expecting the dishes to be washed every day, or you might disappoint someone who needs something but can actually wait until you are more rested. If you look closely at the map, but you will notice you are not the Rugby, that is, arguably the center of North America. God’s only child is the center, so you can just be you.

Six Words to Avoid

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Last year, the book Embodied: Clergy Women and the Solidarity of a Mothering God got me wondering. Pastor Lee Ann Pomrenke invites readers to notice the unique lens through which women who are clergy understand their work. (For simplicity’s sake, I’ll use the word “pastors” to include both deacons and pastors.)

Pastoring and mothering kids share more in common than I’d realized in the early years of my vocation. Both involve caring for people in a way that surrenders the course of our lives to other people’s lives. Pastors and mothers may plan their days, weeks, or years, but the trail is blazed by the people whom we love. For mothers, careers are temporarily set aside to care for family. (Less often but sometimes, fathers do this work.) For pastors, family vacations are shifted when a funeral comes up. For both mothers and pastors, holidays are self-sacrificing and labor-intensive in order to create memories for others. You carry around your own examples, pastors and moms, of the way your life has been shaped by your generous love for others.

Reflecting on the past couple of years, I am noticing something else pastors and mothers share in common. A less obvious commonality between pastoring and mothering can be found in the way we either empower or disempower the people whom we love. This is some of the hard, hard work of pastoring and mothering! If we peel back the layer of “It’s easier to do it myself”, we notice we are keeping other people from doing it themselves.

Time for an example! Preparing for a Sunday off this week made me realize I’m the one who turns on the sound system and sets up the Facebook Livestream even though there are ushers and techs who are perfectly capable and willing to do this quick and easy work. During the course of the pandemic, pastors did the majority of the volunteer work for a spell and I became accustomed to “it’s easier to do it myself.” But now, there are plenty of fingers to press the green button to turn on the sound and type in a welcome on the livestream.

At home, the more work I can teach my kids to do (laundry, cooking, cleaning), the easier my life is. But this is daily hard work! It’s finding a balance between encouraging and nagging, teaching and letting go, caring and not caring. Empowering others is messy, grinding work at the same time it is the most faithful work demanded of pastors and mothers.

I know the balance is off when I get crabby. When my kids don’t do their laundry or chores or the sound system doesn’t get turned on or something else gets missed. Crabby is like a warning light reminding us to step back and notice whom might we empower and rely upon. The truth is, it isn’t easier to do it myself again and again. It is easier if others know what to do and how to help.

I was sure by the time I’d been a pastor for 17 years and a mother for 15 that I would have a better grip on these things! But life is never like that. Humans aren’t wired to learn most things once and for all. We learn again and again and then once again. And in the learning, we learn (not once but again and again) to be gentle on ourselves, to loosen our grip on life, and to give thanks for the people whom we love who shape the course of our lives.

In the Noise and in the Silence

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It took me years upon years to learn why parenting littles was absolutely exhausting. Aside from the sleep deprivation and the fact that often our most demanding work years fall in the same season, kids require every iota of an introvert’s energy. Did my sons, whose birthdays fall within twenty months, care that I identify as an introvert?

Toddler Sons: “Mom, play cars, trucks, tag, push me on the swing, read me that book, watch me, watch me, watch me!”

Mom: “Actually, the introvert that is me requires blocks of quiet time and alone time, so I’m just going to sit by myself for a while as you risk your life being a toddler.”

Toddler Sons: “We completely understand. Go and feed your soul while we sharpen knives in the kitchen.”

There is no “tv timeout” that allows for an introvert to recover from so much people time. Even time with our own family in our own home as any introvert knows, can be over the top exhausting.

I’ve been recalling this as my kids are older and do actually allow introvert recovery time. They do their own thing, have their own friends and do not demand, “watch me, watch me, watch me” all the live long day. I can sit and read chapters of a book. I can take a walk. I can drink a cup of coffee while it’s steaming hot.

It is easy for me, too, to do my own thing. And yet, a fundamental need for all humans beings requires sitting together some of the time. Even if no words are exchanged, each one of us needs someone to regularly look us in the eye to assure that we have not mistakenly put on an invisibility cloak. I need your eyes to assure me I matter to you.

I recently sat with an elderly dude whose entire world is about to change. He told me his story a few times in the half hour or so we sat together. I didn’t need to say anything, but my eyes (and I suppose my ears) assured him he was heard. Words matter less when the person you sit with knows he matters to you. I did not know him well, but I did know we are both beloved children of God who need someone else’s eyes to remind us God sees us, too.

In the noise of life with young kiddos, we assure them they matter with our songs and silly conversations and with pushes on the swings that surface the giggles. As we grow older, it is often in the silence that we come to know and remember someone notices we are still here. Hanging out in this life, as unsure as anyone else what comes next.

Why Should I Have Coffee While They Flee?

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While I was writing Spiritual Longing in a Woman’s World, the death of George Floyd set the spotlight on black voices begging to be heard. My eyes were opened by Austin Channing in particular. I began to wonder whether my book had a place at a time like that. Who am I, with my long history of supportive family and pastoral calls that came easily to me, to speak of longing? After more prayerful wondering, I understood there is never a perfect time for anything. If I waited to publish my book, there would certainly be another set of voices longing to be heard.

Today, ordinary women (like me) seek refuge in places far from home while their ordinary husbands (like mine) stay put to make possible their return. And here I am, a half-turn of the globe away, with my hot coffee and apple scone. Yesterday, our congregation prayed for peace from the safety of our building tucked into a quiet, ordinary neighborhood. How are we to live in the luxury of peace while there is no peace for so many ordinary humans?

I offer two responses to living in a world where one person is at peace at the same time another is a victim of war. One response is faithful and the other is not.

  • Be so thankful you are not them. I hear this from parents whose kids go on mission trips. “I just want them to learn how lucky they are.” Yes, that is what happens when we experience someone else’s struggle. We go home because we can, thankful we are not them. Today, we can tell our kids, “Eat your vegetables. At least you are not fleeing Ukraine with your mother.” This is a helpful way to deepen the divide between lucky us and unlucky them.
  • Recognize “them” are actually “us”. (Sorry, grammar people, that can’t be right. It’s the best I can do.) We are all people with families and homes who live in countries and are vulnerable to dangerous leaders. We = each and every one of us. There are no exceptions. The pain of the Ukrainian mother is my pain, too. I might feel thankful to enjoy peace, but more than that I feel deep sadness that someone else doesn’t get to enjoy it, too. Offering my kids this fuller picture points to Jesus in the gospels.

I am still drinking my hot coffee, however. And, I am fervently praying. Prayer shapes our hearts to see beyond ourselves. I am also giving money through Lutheran World Relief and the ELCA’s Lutheran Disaster Response. The latter nonprofit passes along 100% of your giving and retains zero dollars for administrative fees. I trust these two established organizations knowing they will not disappear when the crisis is over.

Teaching kids to recognize “them” are actually “us” takes turning the globe around and introducing them to our neighbors and wondering what “peace” looks like here and there. Most people in the world do not live with the luxury of food, shelter and clean water. We do, which means we have resources to share. Peace is not a luxury to be hoarded. It is what Jesus gave away, so that we might do the same.

Parenting is Both Loving and Not Caring

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Kid: “Mom, blah blah blah.”

Mom: “I don’t care. But I do love you!”

Doesn’t that feel good? Not caring can feel so dang good! I don’t care about a lot of things. I don’t care if if I catch the news every day or if I’m a few minutes late for some things. Okay, for several things! And it’s not just me. My husband doesn’t care about the laundry on the floor or if the bed never ever ever gets made again.

I don’t care if my kids earn perfect grades or become impressive athletes. I don’t care if they stop going to church or never leisurely read another book. I will never stop loving these three young humans, but I will never care about absolutely everything they do or do not do.

Like two sides of the same coin, love and not caring go together. You could also say love and letting go, if that sits better. Or, parenting is as much hands off as it is hands on. No matter the words, this work is not for the faint of heart! It may be easy to love our own kid (most of the time), but it is a great challenge to know when not to care.

Straight up, here is the importance of not caring: you will not rest if you 100% care for every single detail of your kid’s life every moment of every day. You cannot be you, a full self, a healthy human, if all you do is care about your kid. Sometimes, it is best not to care.

Let me be clear. There are parents who literally do not care an iota, which is often related to mental health or trauma or addiction. I’m not advocating for that. Do not stop caring for your kid’s basic needs. That is not cool. This is what I mean: I am learning to care less and at times not at all when the timing is right.

Let’s start at the beginning. When a doctor hands a parent a brand new baby, or you receive a child through adoption, you do not promise to protect this child from every possible problem. You do not promise to raise that child to perfection, or become the most remarkable caregiver. Before and after becoming a parent, you are as human as ever. The writer of Ecclesiastes, perhaps the world’s first life coach, assured us there is a time for every season under heaven. I agree. There is a time to care and a time to not care.

I am slowly learning this complex parenting wisdom, which grows more complex as my kids add years to their ages. I feel it in their schoolwork, which I hope they do well and work hard and I will support them as best I can. However, as much as I love for them to do their best, it is perfectly fine that I do not care so much for the end result. I can point out their grades, but not take their work personally. I can remind them and be clear with my concerns, and after that I need to know where my own parental responsibility starts and stops. Their future is completely out of my hands, unlike when they were little.

When they were little, I chose my kids’ day cares and babysitters and often even their friends. Now, none of that is true. They will choose their post-high school path, just as they will choose their own friends. They will choose their hobbies and whether they care that they wear dirty-looking work jeans to school every dang day, making it appear that our family shops for clothes out of the trash bin outside the thrift store. Again, out of my hands.

I love them so much, and I refuse to care for all the details that shape their lives. If parenting is raising small humans to grow into independent and helpful adult humans, then at some point, I have to hand over the burden of caring so much.

Perhaps this is God’s way of loving us, too. In Isaiah 43, God loves us and we belong to God. This chapter is the only moment in the entirely of the Bible when God explicitly states: “I love you.” But like the stoic parent who does not say the words out loud every single day, you know it’s true. The absence of the words do not make the parent’s love for you any less, only quieter. From the first page of Genesis to the last page of Revelation, God’s love for you sings from each chapter.

I will fiercely love my kids as long as I live, and sometimes my love will be elevator music they can hardly hear as they learn to do life on their own. It will be there, my love for them, at times by way of quiet background noise, yet still they will know it is there. Lingering and steady; that I both love and do not care because fierce love risks stifling both our lives. The poet Rainer Rilke puts it this way: “We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go, for holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.”

Jesus Did What in the Temple?! Yep. (John 2:13-25)

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(John 2:13-25 NRSV) The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. 15 Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” 17 His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” 18 The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” 19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” 20 The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” 21 But he was speaking of the temple of his body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

23 When he was in Jerusalem during the Passover festival, many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing. 24 But Jesus on his part would not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people 25 and needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone.

http://www.biblegateway.com

While evolving into a new parent, I was not prepared for the exhaustion of my own kids’ emotional outbursts. Sure, I have feelings, too! They just don’t burst out and transform my entire being like a mogwai splashed with water. Or like a volcano spewing hot lava.

Emotional outbursts are part of being a kid. It’s what they do. I understand. Kids burst with emotion when and where they feel it is safe for them to do so. An uncontainable flood of feelings regularly courses through their little bodies and it takes a lifetime to know where to put the sandbags.

I was not at all prepared for the emotional bursts! I am an introvert who grew up in a quiet house. There was no yelling or drama, only Norwegians. When my first child began to demonstrate emotional out bursting, I was confounded. To this day, with my youngest a nine-year old, these emotional outbursts become like a tiny hole pierced in a balloon, slowly draining energy.

Did God the Father feel something like this, watching Jesus burst with emotion in the temple? Was it draining for God the Father to witness the only Son of God release fury, disappointment, and who can say exactly which particular feelings?

There must be nothing wrong with an occasional emotional outburst, even for an adult, if Jesus became a hot mess and made such a ruckus in the temple! When we feel certain feelings, anger is the go-to for most humans, even Jesus. If we feel afraid, ashamed, embarrassed, angry, disappointed, intimidated, or lost, it is anger that wins out. When someone is angry with you, or you are the one who feels angry, slow down and pay attention to the actual feelings hiding behind the anger. Are you feeling left out? Betrayed? Jealous? Or maybe you are really tired and simply need a nap. That’s so human, too! Jesus took his share of naps.

This weekend, I am grateful a St. John member will be doing the preaching. (I’ve previewed the sermon and it is lovely!) Like last week, I welcome your ponderings and wisdom around this text. Leave a comment on my blog or Facebook, or email me at lewtonwriter@gmail.com. Your words this week will shape the Prayers of the People.

Tell me, can you relate to Jesus in this story? Or can you imagine being one of the people who witnessed his outburst? What is it like for you to be the one who has to deal with other people’s emotional outbursts? Where do you see emotional outbursts going on in the world today?