Love. I've been thinking a lot about love recently, well, because it's Valentine's Day and because it seems the world needs more of it. When you get married you think "There is no way I could ever love anyone as much as I love you." And then you have a baby and realize "I didn't even know what love was before you were here..." and then.... you have another baby and your heart explodes.
I have been a mother for less than 3 years but it has fundamentally changed the way I think, the way I dream and the way in which I see the world. As a military wife, I accept the risk that comes with this marriage. He deploys. He comes home. He deploys. He comes home. He deploys. We condition our hearts to live in a state of uncertainty but put the worry on a shelf so we can get through the days. But as a parent... the worry never seems to fade. From the moment they take their first breath, you worry. This might also be straight paranoia but I'm calling it love here, either way it's inescapable. This love, this unbridled, passionate, unconditional, all-consuming love for my children has also taught me a little about empathy.
Last Sunday in church we talked about our roles as Christians in a politically charged environment, how we love, being empathetic (not sympathetic) and becoming ambassadors of reconciliation. I loved this idea... an ambassador of reconciliation. As a mom, Ambassador of Reconciliation is what I do all day and seems to be my most important title.
Although my pint size humans are young... they already have very strong minds of their own. I find myself saying "gentle" a million times a day and constantly explaining to the older one that we are teaching the baby how to play. They both constantly seek my attention and when they don't get it they do something to obtain it, usually something loud or destructive. The other day, the older one, we'll call him Wolfe pushed the baby, we'll call him Fox, deliberately with the intention to harm. This was the first time I saw Wolfe actually shove him. The act scared Fox and he burst into tears and Wolfe was immediately remorseful but he got a 2 minute time-out anyway. Of course then everyone was crying, my phone is buzzing and the microwave was beeping creating the stressful soundtrack of the melt-down. A better woman would have responded with words and not by dividing forces - but I was out of hands.
I cannot count how many times I have explained that when we grab something from Fox and make him cry, we teach him that we want him to do it back. It's an exhausting lesson that never seems to get learned but... ahhh, brotherly love. I think the parallels of parenthood to politics are infinite. Responding with anger to bad behavior never ever achieves corrected behavior. If I have learned anything in my short role as a parent, it is that my reaction defines the situation.
Above my desk there is a printed saying that reads, "There is a legal way and there is a human way." I think about this all the time because it seems that wherever one falls on political issues, it's too easy to lose site of the human impact. As a mother I would cross fire and hell to save my own children. I cannot imagine what a mother in Syria would consider doing, to save hers. To be empathetic is to get down in that ditch with a person and not paint a silver lining around their darkness, but rather to listen and to learn. I once read in a parenting book that when you are speaking to your children it is best to bend down to their level so that you are speaking to them as a person and not as a subordinate. I can't always do this, because... time.... but, when he's hurt, or mad or defiant, I do my best to get down into his space and we work through the moment. I know empathy won't solve the worlds problems but getting on the same plane without anger is a good start.
As I have witnessed my little people grow exponentially these past few weeks I have seen them interact more and more. And I fall a little more in love when I watch the 2 year old learn he can make the baby laugh faster than he can make him cry, or when he discovered that splashing in the tub with a buddy doubles the size of the waves, and that playing peek-a-boo with someone locked in a bouncer is pretty funny.
Because today is Valentine's Day, love gets to be celebrated. So I plan to wholeheartedly embrace my role as the Ambassador of Reconciliation in my little house and out in my world. To accept first that my children will never love me the way they I love them, to listen more to the other side and to respond to disagreeable politics in the same manner I deal with tantrums... with a 2 minute time-out...
for myself.
I have been a mother for less than 3 years but it has fundamentally changed the way I think, the way I dream and the way in which I see the world. As a military wife, I accept the risk that comes with this marriage. He deploys. He comes home. He deploys. He comes home. He deploys. We condition our hearts to live in a state of uncertainty but put the worry on a shelf so we can get through the days. But as a parent... the worry never seems to fade. From the moment they take their first breath, you worry. This might also be straight paranoia but I'm calling it love here, either way it's inescapable. This love, this unbridled, passionate, unconditional, all-consuming love for my children has also taught me a little about empathy.
Last Sunday in church we talked about our roles as Christians in a politically charged environment, how we love, being empathetic (not sympathetic) and becoming ambassadors of reconciliation. I loved this idea... an ambassador of reconciliation. As a mom, Ambassador of Reconciliation is what I do all day and seems to be my most important title.
Although my pint size humans are young... they already have very strong minds of their own. I find myself saying "gentle" a million times a day and constantly explaining to the older one that we are teaching the baby how to play. They both constantly seek my attention and when they don't get it they do something to obtain it, usually something loud or destructive. The other day, the older one, we'll call him Wolfe pushed the baby, we'll call him Fox, deliberately with the intention to harm. This was the first time I saw Wolfe actually shove him. The act scared Fox and he burst into tears and Wolfe was immediately remorseful but he got a 2 minute time-out anyway. Of course then everyone was crying, my phone is buzzing and the microwave was beeping creating the stressful soundtrack of the melt-down. A better woman would have responded with words and not by dividing forces - but I was out of hands.
I cannot count how many times I have explained that when we grab something from Fox and make him cry, we teach him that we want him to do it back. It's an exhausting lesson that never seems to get learned but... ahhh, brotherly love. I think the parallels of parenthood to politics are infinite. Responding with anger to bad behavior never ever achieves corrected behavior. If I have learned anything in my short role as a parent, it is that my reaction defines the situation.
 |
| Brotherly love |
As I have witnessed my little people grow exponentially these past few weeks I have seen them interact more and more. And I fall a little more in love when I watch the 2 year old learn he can make the baby laugh faster than he can make him cry, or when he discovered that splashing in the tub with a buddy doubles the size of the waves, and that playing peek-a-boo with someone locked in a bouncer is pretty funny.
Because today is Valentine's Day, love gets to be celebrated. So I plan to wholeheartedly embrace my role as the Ambassador of Reconciliation in my little house and out in my world. To accept first that my children will never love me the way they I love them, to listen more to the other side and to respond to disagreeable politics in the same manner I deal with tantrums... with a 2 minute time-out...
for myself.
"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."
- Gandhi
