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Think of the happiest, longest married couple you've ever known. 

What do you know about them? 

I've sat at funerals and anniversary parties while people recounted all of the challenges that the long married couple had been through. 

What I've come to understand is, it is likely that none of us knows about the biggest challenges those people faced in their relationship. The hardest things I've been through in my marriage, most of the people in my life don't even know about. And when I share pieces of my own story with women who've been married a comparable amount of time or longer, they've been there too. 

Happy, long marriages are not devoid of the problems that drive other people to divorce. People in happy, long marriages work it out. Each partner grows, and the relationship flourishes and deepens. 

Don't fall for the lie that social media and society are telling us right now. 

I just came across an Instagram post that said something like, "If you have to look through your partners phone, you're in the wrong relationship." Eh, not true. Maybe there is work to be done. Some rubber to lay down on the road. Because, if I'm looking through my partners phone, I will probably be looking in my next partners phone too. The grass isn't greener or more well manicured on the other side of the fence. I'm not in the wrong yard because the grass I'm in is brown and overgrown. The grass is green where I water it and tend it. 

It takes two to make a marriage really flourish, but just one partner working can do a lot. 

I'm not advocating for staying in abusive situations. I'm saying that the world is full of reasons why my relationship isn't the "right one", but if I'm waiting for the right relationship - there isn't one. I have to make the relationship right. 

Cultivating the Older Woman/Younger Woman Relationship: A First Step

They lament the state of current music.

It happens in every generation. Older people rag on current music and extol the virtues of the music from their day. People my age are doing it currently. This has been happening since the beginning of time ad nauseam. I think this is a manifestation of the cycle of dysfunction between generations, and we miss opportunities to connect and collaborate when we participate in it.

While older generations are scoffing at and belittling younger generations, the younger generation is dealing with the mistakes that have been handed down by the older generation. The people in the older generation endlessly talk about how things were better in their day, while the younger people are living through the fallout of the older generations' flaws creating a toxic environment of pride and dismissal. 

Each new generation sees the flaws and mistakes of the ones before it and thinks they need to take over so they can save the world from the ills of the older generation. We reject elders and their advice because we see it as flawed and irrelevant.

However, eventually, the new generation becomes the elders. The old, new generation worked hard to do things differently than their parents, and to make changes. But guess what?! The world is still flawed and the new, new generation sees those flaws, blames the previous generations, and vows to do things differently. They reject the old, new generation as their elders seeing them as flawed and irrelevant. They think they've figured it out and that they need to take over so they can save the world from the ills of our generation....and on and on and on. 

It is an endless cycle of pride, defensiveness, contempt, stonewalling, and a whole lot of not listening. And it is perpetuated by all sides.

One of our family's favorite things to do is create Spotify playlists for road trips. We give them fun names and everyone in our family contributes to them. We listen to every song and don't complain about someone else's choice. We practice listening simply because someone we love enjoys that song . . . so we give it a real chance to become a song we enjoy too. Even if it never makes it onto a list of my favorites, I get to spend a few minutes looking into the soul of one of my family members and it provides an opportunity to show them how much I value them. And you know what? I've heard some amazing music that is now on my favorites list.  

I've learned that music that doesn't sound the same as it did in "my day" can be good too. And not all the music from "my day" was good anyway. The stuff that stands the test of time is good, but you know what?! There is a whole lot of music that gets forgotten about. 

There are both virtues and vices in all generations. Younger generations stand on the shoulders of older generations, and a lot of good is done with the ideas and energy of younger generations. But we get caught in this cycle and stop listening to each other and working together.

In my view, a first step to empowering older woman/younger woman relationships is acknowledging this cycle and intentionally stepping out of it. 

A Study of Older Woman and Younger Woman Relationships Part One

I asked her, "do you still use what you taught us?" 

I saw them for the first time in years, and felt compelled to compare notes about how our lives had shifted and evolved since our last meeting.

They had kids starting about 10 years older than ours. We had looked up to them as parents and participated in a parenting study group with them. Michael and I attempted to implement the things we learned but were met with criticism and gave up fairly early on, cherry picking a few things that we thought were important.

Her reply to my question was "no". They had stopped using their previous parenting philosophy, and no longer recommended the curriculum they had used. 

As I approach the launching of my youngest children into adulthood, I've spent a lot of time facing down the mother I have been. The ways I have failed. 

Learning the term "overstimulation" and understanding that I have ADHD along with some other struggles, has reframed how I look at myself as a mother. I still have the same regrets, and I would go back and do a million things differently . . . but they help me to extend grace to myself. Because being overwhelmed by shame would be an easy thing to do, 

Over the years, as I have found myself lonely and overwhelmed, I have pondered the state of 'older woman' and 'younger woman' relationships. I have sought these relationships my entire adult life, with varying levels of success and helpfulness.  

At times when I wasn't getting the help I needed, I turned to blogs and other online content for help and encouragement. Most of these were created by women about my age with children the same age or younger. 

Other than what diapers to use or what to expect in the birthing process, I have regretted a lot of the advice I have taken from women whose children were the same age as mine. 

The couple I referenced in the beginning of this post had eventually completely rejected the advice and philosophy they had once held up as the gold standard. It had not yielded the result that they hoped it would. 

Women in the same stage of life as I am can give support, and may have sound advice, but in my experience they don't have the benefit of being able to see where the decisions they have made have led them in the long term. I can't see the result of their advice and philosophy.

Over the next few days and weeks, I would like to explore the older woman/younger woman relationship dynamics and the barriers that I have experienced to these relationships. And what I can do to promote these relationships and empower them flourish. 

Submission is a Dirty Word

I used to skip Judges 19 in my yearly Bible reading because it triggered me to question whether God loves women, and His goodness and existence.

Until I realized that everything recorded in scripture is not something God approves of. Then it occurred to me that God stands in stark contrast to the man in Judges 19 and all the other passages of scripture where men send (or offer) defenseless women to (sometimes mobs of) men. God didn’t send His wife or His daughter to face the mob. He came Himself. He sent somebody with power and a choice. The actions of men do not equal the actions or directive of God. 

I choose to submit to my husband. And to remain silent in The Church. 

I do this because scripture instructs it. Honestly, though, I have struggled with these things and the implications that I believed they had about what God thinks of me as a woman. Stick with me while I explain how I’ve come to have peace with this. 

Here’s where people start talking about “the patriarchy” and misogyny. Those things exist, but God didn’t invent them. And I don’t think that my submission to my husband and silence in The Church necessarily creates those. 

The world is a fallen place. Do men take advantage of their wives' submission or silence in the church? Yes, sometimes. Maybe a lot of times. 

The truth is, I shouldn’t confuse the thoughts, opinions, and actions of men with the thoughts and ways of God. And I can’t waste my life obsessing over other people’s flaws or rejecting the commands of God because someone else isn’t holding their end of the bargain. 

I believe that my role as a wife is a picture of how the church functions as the bride of Christ. Of course, the church should submit to Christ. The thought of The Church singing “I can buy myself flowers” . . . is ridiculous. 

Submission today looks differently than it did in Bible times, simply because culture has changed. Michael would laugh me to scorn if I called him lord. Or maybe not, but that would be weird. Submission isn’t defined by culture today or 50 or 100 years ago, and it isn't defined by Fox News. The implementation of it is impacted by culture, but God defines submission. Submission isn't not voting or having a bank account or being a housewife. Those are cultural things that have changed. 

Ballroom dancing is a lovely demonstration of submission. My husband leads, I follow, and we artfully perform the steps together. I don’t resist his moves or intentionally perform a different step from him, and he leads with compassion. We both show up ready to dance our hearts out, and that’s the only way it works. If both people lead, it doesn’t work. Most people can understand submission in this context. Submission in marriage is the same thing. I allow my husband to be the leader. 

I share my opinions, and he listens. We work together. But I submit to his direction. Not because I am somehow less than him, but so the picture can be complete. 

The church should always be in submission to Christ. When Christ speaks, the church should always be silent. And that is the example that I seek to emulate and demonstrate.

I don’t think God thinks that women don’t have good things to say or wise words to share. He brings His Kingdom to us in a way that we can understand. I believe that women submit because marriage is a picture of the relationship between Christ and the church. 

God came to face the mob (that, ironically, I am a part of), and I am willing to submit to the picture that He is painting. Even if that means I don’t get to be the leader and I don’t speak in the Church. I am okay with that. 

A Guide to Changing Perspectives

Instinctively, I corrected.

It felt important to speak the truth. To offer a different perspective. To encourage them to look at the bright side.

Instead, it frequently lead to them leaning into the distortion or negativity, and started an argument. 

One of my kids had the courage to tell me how it feels when I respond with a correction immediately when they tell me a story. 

In thinking through this, why I respond the way I do and how I can do it differently I learned something. 

There is something powerful about other people seeing my pain. It helps me to move on from it. 

When I share something difficult I am dealing with and people respond with, "well at least . . . " or a story about why what I'm going through isn't that big of a deal, I feel unseen and uncared for. I feel like I need to reassure myself that my perception of reality is true. This prolongs my stance in the pain I am, it is a stumbling block.

I've learned that acknowledging hardship and allowing people to feel what they feel for a bit, actually empowers them to find the truth, a different perspective or to look at the bright side themselves. 

There is absolutely a time to call out untruth, offer a different perspective or to encourage someone to look at the bright side. But maybe when we sit with people in their pain, we are fertilizing the ground where the truth, new perspective or the bright side can take root and flourish. 

How To Be a Perfect Parent

 I told myself that I would do things differently.

The truth is, I did. Poorly at first, but then I learned better, got help and did better. 

But what I’ve learned is this: 

I can do the best I can as a parent, but it will never be good enough that my kids won’t have problems. 

I could never say a negative word about my body or anybody else's and my daughter still might have body image issues. I can be a gentle parent and my kids might still struggle with pleasing people and perfectionism. 

There are no perfect parents, and there are no perfect kids. There are no perfect relationships. There is conflict in all relationships, and there are flaws in all people. 

Regardless of my performance as a parent, my kids will still be sinners who need a Savior. And I am not that Savior. 

What I’ve learned about parenting, and relationships in general, is that the quality of the relationship is dependent on the quality of the repair that takes place when something goes wrong. 

How do I make amends when I make a mistake? How do I react when I realize I’m doing something wrong or I’ve hurt my kids in some way? What do I do when I feel negatively toward my husband? When I feel bitterness creep in? Do I blame other people, or take responsibility for my part? Do I share how I feel and what I need or do I wait for them to read my mind? 

Show them how to make amends with God, themselves and other people. It's like teaching a hungry man to fish . . . they will be fed for life.

Church Hurt

I sat in shocked silence while I listened to someone I thought I could trust relay a private conversation I had just had with them, to another person.

I was sitting in my living room. They walked outside to the front porch and made the call. I still don't know if they know I heard what they said, but I did. 

I was hurting, and trying to process what was happening. I turned to someone I thought I could trust to process through it. They shared what I said with the person that some of the processing had been about. 

I wasn't even allowed to think through things in a safe environment. When I didn't immediately choose the side they thought I should, they didn't give me the basic rights of relationships. I felt hurt on top of the pain I was already going through, and it made their side of the argument seem less right and clear. It muddied the water further, which made it even harder to discern what was right.

This isn't the worst thing that has happened to me in the church. It's the thing I feel comfortable sharing about.

While I believe that there is a degree of truth with the above graphic. I think it dismisses the responsibility that we have to make amends, and it allows people who run over other people with their verbal/mental car in the name of Jesus to run rampant and unchecked. 

I have sat and listened while people show contempt for others who have left the church, but I know the circumstances from the other side. 

People did hurtful and wrong things in the name of Jesus. They ran over people with their car in the name of Jesus and then show contempt and a lack of compassion when the people they ran over and others who saw it happen don't come back to have a relationship with them. 

Being right doesn't give anyone the right to act wrongly. 

I wonder how many people who were "right" are going to have to give an account to Jesus for their actions when they were "right"?

Let's love people and make amends instead of shaming people for how they reacted to their pain. Expressing remorse and gentleness can go a long way to healing and restoration. 

I have received two apologies from people about ways they had hurt me because they thought they were right. When the Bible says that love covers a multitude of sins, it ain't lying. I never expected to get any apologies, but these two apologies made it so much easier for me to forgive all the other people. It works, and it should be done.

Scrupulosity

I counted on the belief that being baptized would solve the problem. It didn’t. Before I got home from church on the night I submitted to baptism the first time, the overwhelming sense that I was unworthy of God’s love and so full of sin that I was too rotten to save engulfed me like a title wave of quicksand. Over the years, intrusive thoughts that I was unsaved because of my inability to perform perfectly to a standard that I wasn’t quite sure of led to cycles of depression, hopelessness, giving up, deciding to retry, depression, hopelessness, and on and on and on. I was a compulsive confession-maker in my mid-teens. I remember feeling the compulsion and wracking my brain to think of what to say in the confession. I often resorted to “I haven’t been a good example” because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. In my late teens, I gave up. It felt useless and hopeless to try. I couldn’t gain any ground. I resorted to seeking comfort where I could find it. I did things that a person caught in the clutches of satan would do. Desiring reconciliation, I resubmitted to baptism at twenty. Consolation eluded me entirely. I’ve had two periods of peace that each lasted about two years. The last five years have been the hardest of my life. My lows got lower than I thought were possible. All of these intrusive thoughts led to a dark period of doubt, endless rumination, and trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. Words have so much power. Reading this one and learning what it means felt like a plug I didn’t know existed was pulled from my spirit, and all of the anxiety drained. I felt seen for the first time. Scrupulosity. It’s under the umbrella of obsessive-compulsive disorder but seems to affect religious people particularly. My story with this word is way too long to tell in one essay, but it’s been life-changing. Realizing that all of these terrible thoughts aren't true, that there is a name for this, that I'm not the only one, and that there is an established protocol to help is an answer to prayer. The level of gratefulness I feel is indescribable.

Value: Perception Vs. Reality

She asked the question. 

I gave an answer that I hadn’t rehearsed and didn’t know I could give. 

I was experiencing flow. The sense that energy spills from my spirit without incurring a debt against the stores that exist there. My heart, mind and soul were in communion and produced a result that none could give on their own. I was truly and entirely myself. 

But the space and people that had supported and assisted in the laying of the foundation, the ones I thought were safe, became unsafe. The ground encompassing my foundation began to quake. It could no longer support me. So I hefted that foundation and everything laid upon it to another location. One that wasn’t prepared for the relocation. 

What had felt beautiful and whole, began to feel haunted and flawed. Like a restaurant that thrives, so the owners open a second one in another location and it…flops. Like regional fare that is passed over outside of the place it originates from. 

I’ve felt lost and unseen. Stuck inside my “shell”. 

I’ve inspected the foundation and house I had built on top of it over and over. Was it what I thought it was? Was I mistaken? Was it an illusion? Did I see a castle where a haunted house existed? Was my foundation flawed and the structure built upon it shabby? 

I think the answers are: it was what I thought it was. I was not mistaken. It wasn’t an illusion. I saw a house, not a castle and it isn’t haunted. My foundation wasn’t flawed and the structure isn’t shabby. 

I just can’t allow other people's opinions and perception of my usefulness to define the reality of those things. Because they don’t.

Sometimes people just don’t have experience with something so they don’t recognize what they have. Maybe the people who first discovered coal didn’t know its purpose. Maybe it took a while for cotton to reach its full potential as a useful material. It took a while for Cincinnati chili to grow on me. Now I look forward to a visit to Skyline. 

It’s just taking a while for people to recognize the design and value of my foundation, structure and the amenities and resources they provide. Or maybe the people in the place where I moved won't ever find me valuable or useful. That also doesn't change it, and it doesn't mean they are bad. Not everything resonates with every place or person. There are no Skyline Chili's in Texas, and that's okay.

Grief: Not Belonging

 Desperate, my heart grasped at a mirage of belonging. My soul embodied a perpetual and pervasive sense that I didn’t belong. 

Contortion, compliance and attention seeking by any means became my modus operandi. 

I embraced, embedded and seared shame and blame like a tattoo on my heart. Interpreted the lack of belonging as a judgment of my worth. 

Belonging eluded me, I settled for attention and tolerance.

When I finally realized that attention does not equal belonging I withdrew, consumed by grief. If I don’t belong, and no amount of attention will fill the void - what am I left with?

Acceptance. 

I don’t belong, but it isn’t anyone’s fault. Not theirs. Not mine. I just . . . don’t belong. They aren’t my people and I’m not theirs. And that’s okay. 

Love can still exist, a relationship can be salvaged - minus the striving for belonging, the grief when I don’t, and the shame of wondering what’s wrong with me. 

Cultivating Fruit

 I ask them to complete a task . . . like to clean the kitchen. When I get home, I see that they haven’t mopped the floor. In my head, mopping the floor is a part of cleaning the kitchen, so when I asked my child to clean the kitchen…I assumed this would be done. But my kids don’t live in my head and I had never communicated my exact and complete definition of what a clean kitchen is. 

Being the mother of grown children along with being the grown child of parents is a strange experience. Having the benefit of the two perspectives has given me many opportunities for thought. 

It is very common for people to communicate incompletely. It’s an epidemic, and the cause of a lot of resentment and conflict in relationships. 

We are in our own heads, and we forget that other people are not. Since we have the benefit of understanding where every thought is rooted and where it leads, it can be easy to communicate part of the intended message while leaving gaps that the other person then fills in for themselves. This leaves room for miscommunication and conflict. 

I think this happens generally with love. A lot of the things I’ve done have been motivated by love for my children and from a desire to promote their welfare. But all of the things I’ve done to promote their welfare has left me stressed out, overstimulated and tired many times. So I snap at them when they ask me a question or I yell at them to clean their room. All of the love that provoked all the work I did is drowned out by their feeling unloved because I was unkind. 

The Bible says that people will know me by my fruit. Am I cultivating the fruit I intend to cultivate? Or am I cultivating something to its detriment? Am I communicating to the people that I love that I love them? Or am I so busy in doing things to promote their welfare that I end up communicating that they are annoying or too much?