One of my favorite songs of the season is Mary did you know. I wonder what were some of the things Mary thought when Jesus was suckling and looking at her with a sweet smile.
Not every mother knows she will carry a baby that will change the world as an adult. Klara Hitler didn’t know. I’m sure she never dreamed of the tragedies that would occur at the hands of her baby boy. When she first felt him move and when she prayed he would not die in childhood as some of his siblings did, I’m sure she didn’t know.
When we as parents hold our breaths and wait for the first cry. When we smile broadly at the first steps. When we celebrate the milestones of childhood. When we shower our offspring with words of encouragement and rebuke, kisses and hugs, I’m sure we don’t know. We hope they will become productive citizens of society. We pray they will live a life that is reflective of our love. But, we don’t know.
My heart is heavy for the mother’s and father’s whose children don’t live a life that reflects the love they were given. I’m sure they didn’t know their children would grow up to kill a room full of children or a theater full of people or an airplane full of passengers. I’m sure they didn’t know.
At the same time that I grieve, I rejoice. I rejoice that Ruth Patton encouraged her son and that Barbara Bush supported her children and that Alberta King put a dream in her son’s heart early on. But I’m sure they didn’t know when they carried those babies they would grow into world changers.
Mary may have known some of the story but she didn’t know the entire story. As she watched her son grow into a man, I’m sure she didn’t know how his life would end and that his story and her story would be told and sung throughout the world.
Mary did you know?
Category Archives: Life Lessons
When Mr. Wright is actually Mr. Wrong
As I was describing my date to a friend, she said, “excuse me while I remove the mic from my face” and commenced to laugh very loud for an extended period of time.
I’m glad I’m not easily offended.
The first time I saw him, I thought, he’s not bad-looking, he has all of his teeth, he’s clean and is well-groomed. We talked and laughed for hours. Within the first hour he asked me to marry him. I told him I needed to meet his mother first. He called her on his cell phone. She and I chatted about the holidays, what she was cooking and how to download music on an iPod. He and I exchanged numbers before I left.
A couple of days later, he sent me a text message asking me out on a date. (first flag) **Side note, I am trying to become more progressive but I really am old-fashioned when it comes to dating. I like my doors opened, I’m okay with him paying and I would prefer a phone call if you want to ask me out. Honestly, I would not allow honeygirl to go on a date with a guy who would not verbally ask her. The standard remains the same, forget progressive.**
The event itself was fine. He took me to a friend’s sister’s house for an intimate Christmas party. The party consisted of all of her close friends and me. Never one to turn away from a potentially awkward situation, I embraced the moment and turned on my social charm. He introduced me to everyone he knew as his fiancé. (1/2 flag, it was kind of funny) I soon left his side and began to talk with the other guests. All in all, I had a great time, talked with most of the other guests, heard some funny stories and considered it two hours well spent.
Mr. Wright told me on the drive back that I received an endorsement from one of the guests who described me as grounded, nice and a good catch. Special shout out to Mr. Oil and Gas and his lovely wife, Mrs. Oil and Gas.
I called my friend after dropping off Mr. Wright to discuss the date and for her to keep me company as I drove. I proceeded to tell her about the date and said I saw some red flags. I went on to tell her about the return ride conversation. He described the hostess and her friends as young and pretentious. The he said, I knew you would fit in, that’s why I invited you. (flag, did he just call me pretentious?) Let’s see if I can remember his next words. “Who cares about a degree? They aren’t worth the paper they are printed on most of the time!” (flag, I’m pretty sure I told him I was working on a Masters in education)
As we were approaching his final destination, I allowed him to listed to a live recording of my poem, I’m Better Than That. Let it sink in Mr. Wright. Let it sink in.
The Rudolph Syndrome
I was listening to the radio this morning when Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer started playing. I hummed along for a few moments until it came to the part about Santa calling on Rudolph because of his nose and asked him to lead the sleigh. All of sudden the other reindeer weren’t calling him names anymore and they weren’t excluding him from the reindeer games. Now they loved him shouted and even shouted with glee that his name would go down in history.
Rewind to several years ago. I was with a room full of moms and each of them was saying how they had always wanted to get married and have babies. They reminisced about being young girls and dreaming this dream. They didn’t know it at the time but I felt out-of-place. I always wanted to be a supreme court justice and have a nanny. As I sat there, I could envision a grove full of trees. None of the trees were exactly alike. I realized I was created to be different, as were you.
Fast forward to this past spring. I was spending time alone to reflect on my life. I realized that my closest set of friends were business majors and could not understand my me fully. I was a psychology major. I made decisions that were impractical or seemed silly but they made sense to me and usually worked out in the end. Even if they didn’t work out, I was okay with that.
Getting back to Rudolph, my point is he was not liked when he was seen as different. He was misunderstood and according to the movie, it was tough enough that he felt the need to run away to join the other misfits. In the end it worked out for him. Santa saw his value and gave him a position of honor. I say to my fellow Rudolphs it’s okay to be you. There is value in being uniquely you. It may not be easy and you may not get to lead the sleigh but you are valuable no matter where you are in the line up. The others can just go kick rocks. (I think that is the funniest saying)
I wonder, are you a person who looks at others’ uniqueness as a personal challenge to try to get them to conform or do you embrace those people who are different hoping to learn something new and experience something different? There is room in this world for all kinds. Where is the fun in everybody being the same?
Towels
I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago and she reminded me of a conversation we had a few years ago about folding towels. We were having a GNO (Girls Night Out) and some how we started talking about towels. As I remember, each lady had a specific way to fold towels. Now, if you think about it, you probably do as well. One of the ladies was adamant that her teenage son fold the towels the right way. If he didn’t, she would get upset and frustrated. This frustration would lead her to refolding all the towels and fussing at him. Another friend had a young daughter at the time. We talked about how the mom wanted the towels folded the right way so she did the laundry herself.
Here is my take. I taught my kids to fold clothes, including towels, as soon as they could walk. The towels might end up in a ball but I praised them and thanked them and added it to the stack of other wadded up towels. As they got older and their coordination was better, they folded the towels better. I still offered the same praise. Yes, I put the towels away just as they folded them. The lesson was three-fold for me. I wanted them to learn to do laundry, I wanted them to know that what they did was good enough and most importantly, I wanted to building a relationship with them. As they grew, the expectation grew for them to not ball the towel but try to fold the towel. Was it perfect? Absolutely not! But I wasn’t looking for perfection.
Back to my story. The mom of the younger child got it immediately. She told me a few weeks ago that she still remembers the conversation and it changed how she approaches everyday tasks with her daughter. It’s not about the towel.
What’s the point of this story? Don’t allow the small things in life to stifle your relationships. It’s just a towel and at the end of the day, what difference does it make? Do you want to be known as the person with a linen closet full of perfectly folded towels or the person who had lifelong, life giving, and loving relationships?
As a side note, the fantastic4 were in a Christmas play last year. In one scene, the three youngest were part of a group of people going about every day life. Number 3, little dude from upstairs, was folding some sort of cloth in this scene. I laughed when I saw him folding it with care and like a pro.
A Mile in Your Shoes
No, I’ve never walked a mile in your shoes
I would like to walk the next mile or two with you
I want to see what you see
Hear what you hear
Listen to you speak
Learn what makes you laugh
Wipe your tears when you cry
I want to walk a mile with you
I’ll have to do it in my own shoes
Other wise your journey is not unique
Your shoes were custom-made
It’s your journey but I’m here
Lean on me when you are tired
Hold my hand when you need comfort
I want to walk a mile or two with you
-Alicia
All That Chatter 