Talking to Myself

I remember my own mom lamenting dozens of times that even though she had five kids, she often felt like she was talking to herself for all that we listened to her. Well I had that same experience a few weeks ago, though it wasn't at all what I thought my mom meant when she said it!

I called up a friend and asked her if she could meet me for a chat. We set up a date at a nearby park where my children could play and we could walk around. I was kind of a mess--feeling overwhelmed with this and that, and struggling with different relationships.  My wise friend patiently listened to me and said, "Oh no!" and "That's terrible!" at all the right times.  As we walked around the park, I devised my plan for dealing with the great turmoil I saw in my life, though I just felt agitated and not peaceful.

Just then, one of my children burst in on my "adult problems" with a decidedly "kid problem."  Tears and anger and crossed arms, combined with a storming stomp led to the announcement of her difficulty: "She called me MEAN!" 

I excused myself from my friend, who stepped to the side, still within an earshot.  After bringing over the name-calling child, I discovered that the whole problem was over passage over the monkey bars. One wouldn't move, the other skipped the "ask nicely" step and went straight to name-calling.  I think they were both a little extra tired and cranky, too.  Both were at fault, both were right that the other wasn't being charitable.  And they were both miserable on a beautiful day at the park.

I crouched down with them and explained that both of them were focused on the wrong thing.  We are supposed to be loving each other, not focusing on what the other was doing wrong.  They were focused on their presumably justified anger, not how to build a loving and peaceful family, or how to make our time at the park a fun time for each other (not just themselves).  "We have to shift our focus from the one who has wronged us, to what we can do to bring love and peace to our family." 

As I sent them off to a nearby picnic table to work things out (which they did easily--one of them started telling jokes and they were all giggles and friends again), my friend walked slowly back to me. 

We both knew immediately that all the wisdom I was looking for while walking around the park, I heard myself say when I was talking to my kids.  It wasn't even that I felt like I was talking to myself. I felt like I was the child and God was talking to me!  How much He loves me, to correct my vision in such a gentle and patient way.

The "adult" problems we have are oftentimes nothing more than a storm in a teacup. It's like we're all kids on a playground, and God is the one walking around the outside, waiting for us to come to Him for help.  I just needed a shift in perspective.  I have way more in common with the kids playing in the park than I do with God who is walking around it. 

Parental wisdom  is a gift from God to help us raise our children well. And if you listen to yourself carefully, you might just hear your Father's gentle voice talking to you!