raising girls from the inside out

We are rounding the corner on Christmas here, finishing up the school semester, and I just walked out of my oldest child's parent/teacher conference. We have officially been living in Europe long enough to have formed relationships, and to receive a progress report on an academic semester.

While speaking with the teachers, I realized I was nervous about how my daughter was adapting. Unconsciously, I am burdening a large part of the responsibility for how my children adjust during the numerous transitions they were given no voice to avoid. We do that as parents, trying to carry our children's burdens for them. Because we love them so greatly that we don't want our children to suffer for our choices.

It is always tempting to give our children the gift of perfections, especially our daughters. Whether that means perfectly orchestrated Christmas traditions, or beautifully wrapped presents, or an orderly life that never includes mishaps about where we might be living next year.

But who ever said that giving them our own perfections was a GIFT?  Maybe it isn't a gift for them to grow up in all of those displays of Pinterest perfection. Maybe our imperfections are more of a gift because they help shape our daughters into women of character, help them learn to adapt, help them be less judgmental of others, and help them, one day, to expect less perfection out of themselves.

At the parent/teacher conference I was given a report about my daughter's strengths, and some decided weaknesses. We can't all be good at everything. A lesson I am still learning for myself. Her teachers were gentle and warm, and a special gift in this season. So, where was all of my nervous energy coming from?

Perhaps because, more than anything else in this season of unknowns, I want for my daughter to be known. I want her to be understood and valued for who she is separate from what she produces. When she isn't performing up to some elusive standard, I fear she won't be recognized or celebrated for the unique individual God created her to be in a way that breaches accomplishment.

That becomes more important with each growing year, doesn't it? In our world, to excel is to be valued. Achievement is awarded. Performance is celebrated, whether in sports or in dance or in academics or in simple behavior patterns. I don't actually disagree with this, and I am not proposing that we stop celebrating excellence. I just see how it can eat away at all of the ones who fall below the line. Little ones and big ones alike. Even at 8-years-old, it's hard not to be the best at anything.

In a world that values achievement, it is a struggle to parent in a way that speaks intrinsic value into the lives of little girls. Intrinsic because it is unearned and incapable of being lost.

Speaking that kind of value into the worth of a little girl happens only in the active state. It takes effort and forethought to be intentional, and it takes a million repetitions. The passive state is the far easier one, letting the environment do its work while the messages of negative self-talk and ambient criticism take root.

This is a world not always very kind to girls, but we must actively say, "Go, and be the kindest girl in school!"

This is a world that celebrates a fleeting kind of beauty, but we must say, "Your beauty comes from who you are and Who you love."

In a world that loves to tear down, we need to intentionally build girls up, and teach them to build up each other.

The older my girls grow, the more I realize that these are values that cannot be coming from me alone. It takes a village.

It takes a village of people in every little girl's life to overcome all the messages that contradict. It takes teachers, and surrogate mother-friends, and pastors, and youth group leaders, and Sunday school volunteers, and playground supervisors, and grandparents, and coaches, and people in our lives who take the time to get to know our children inside and outside of school. Intentionally. Actively. Championing from the inside out.

It is a challenge to go, and be the village that raises up the next generation of little girls.

Little girls, go and be kind, and beautiful from the inside out, and may you learn well the art of building each other up.

The blessing of a sister is the blessing of getting to practice this first at home. As we say often, friends will come and go, but sisters are forever.

These photos were taken to a recent weekend trip to the Bregenzerwald in Austria where Sommer enjoyed all of the positive attention she received while hiking around the Alps in a borrowed poofy princess dress.

The below photo was taken in the exact same spot as a favorite photo from our visit to Austria 3.5 years ago. Time is passing us up...

NOVEMBER 2016, girls ages 8 & 5

MAY 2013, girls ages 4.5 & 1.5

when things don't go as planned

We landed here in our clean and cozy home in the German border town of Weil am Rhein by such divine circumstances that I remain convinced it was not an accident. The row house in which we are living has been everything we wanted it to be, cementing plans that we dreamed up, prayed over, and tested regularly. Plans that were confirmed by a good God who knows how to light the path before us.

The narrow backyard and front of our typical row house,
lined up in community with around 20 other homes.

In a few short weeks we developed deep and growing relationships with a number of wonderful people in our proximity. We sipped tea in other backyards and carried apple crisp to the neighbors. The landlady invited me for weekly language practice over coffee, and her sweet teenage daughters have become our babysitters. Our children, who arrived with only a few tired toys, soon had an entire bedroom full of them because mere acquaintances began to shower us with generosity, passing on legos and toy trucks and horses that had been sitting in garages for a decade or more. Karsten found a new best friend in the retired train yard worker next door, who lights up when his little friend comes around. It took only these few short weeks before we began to run into people we knew ALL over town, in the grocery store, on the street corner, at the park, even in the airport. It seems too coincidental to actually be coincidence.

Relationship is everything we came to do well. Here we are, building those relationships with people from completely different backgrounds, and experiencing their gifts of love and welcome toward us. We are doing our best with what we came to do. But it isn't enough.

Life doesn't always go the way we plan it.

This chapter of our trip is about to end prematurely, and we feel a mixture of sadness and disappointment over this. The piece of the puzzle we have been missing all along is a German residency permit. We chose not to expend too much energy worrying about this before arriving because this piece sounded much simpler to obtain than so many of the other pieces that divinely fell into place (all described well here).

You already know I am going to tell you that we didn’t get it. I beat down doors looking for employment, networked my little heart out, and became best friends with the local authorities who process the applications and permission, but doors just kept slamming shut. It has been humbling indeed. Which I can thank God for, because humility is something that brings us closer to Him.

It isn’t that our plan B is so very bad. Plan B has always been to live in Switzerland instead of Germany and continue with the same heart and desires on the other side of the border. Plan B is still a beautiful plan, but it does change EVERYTHING…. from Annike’s school experience, to the language we all learn and practice, to the church community we hoped to have, to the amount of money it costs to live (ouch!), to the connection to German culture that is part of Christian’s familial heritage. The most tragic thing we feel now is that it curtails the relationships we have been building with the wonderful people we have met here.

Life is full of all kinds of disappointments to our expectations. Ours doesn't compare with some of the tragic turns I am witnessing in the lives of friends, including cancer and sickness and consequences for decisions that seem unjust. The one thing we can count on is that life will invariably NOT go as planned.

Looking at our whole story, I can't conclude that we were wrong in being led this direction, or that we have misstepped in some way, or even failed to listen at some point along the journey. Looking at our whole story, I have to conclude that this is right where God has us intentionally. Even if it wasn’t what we expected. Even if it changes everything.

In these past weeks all of our energy has gone to figuring out what is next, trying to rewrite some semblance of what will work for our family. We have been on a time line (dictated by our visas) to make a tough decision. I felt I was groping around in a darkened pitch black room, trying to catch hold of one solid idea that would work for the five of us involved in this journey. The choices were vast, each one setting off a waterfall of effects.

In a desperate moment of silence, groping for substance, I grabbed and held tight to one truth: “look for My face in the dark.” 
Quit groping around, the face of Jesus is all you need. It will shine brightly in a darkened place.

When things don't go as planned, it can feel that we have been overlooked, neglected, or forgotten. The book of 1 Thessalonians has been a special encouragement to me as it is a letter written specifically to remind a group of people that they have not been forgotten. Not only are they not forgotten, but they are remembered... for their faith, love, and endurance.

“We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, 

your labor prompted by love, 

and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” 

1 Thessalonians 1:3

This same book ends with a piece of invaluable wisdom about what to do when we don't know what to do next. Discerning God's will in the midst of our many daily decisions can be confusing and frustrating. Not every choice is clearly outlined in a practical way, meaning that there isn't a Bible verse telling us which house to rent, or which university to attend, or which friend to reach out to. There are days when discerning God’s will can feel murky at best. Yet, here it is, specifically addressed:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, 

give thanks in all circumstances; 

for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Friend, if you needed to hear that today too in the midst of painful indecision, or a glitch in the plans, please know that you are not forgotten, and you know what God's will is:. Rejoice. Pray. Give thanks.

In our case, it has led us to a place where we are grateful to finally have the vague outline of a decision made, even if it is not what we originally hoped for. We have around one month left living in Germany before we move to a temporary housing situation in Switzerland. We will rent another family’s home near the center of Basel for three months while they travel overseas (nearly the only thing we could find in weeks of searching!) Come January, we will be back in the same boat, trying to figure out what is next and where to live.

This is not a plan with which I am fully comfortable, as it doesn't offer me the stability or consistently I so desperately want right now. It doesn't allow me to plan very far into the future, as I am anxious to do. And it doesn't allow me to grow roots in our neighborhood. Always, I have to remember that "the plan" can't become the thing we mistakenly begin to follow. We follow after Jesus alone.

However, this plan does seem to be the best we can currently come up with. And it is covered in rejoicing, prayer, and giving thanks. So we proceed, remembering to hold our plans loosely and hold Jesus tight.

**************************

In the meantime, in between hours of emailing and searching online forums related to our above dilemmas, we have found some time for a little local exploration...

At the top of the medieval Rotteln Castle with a view from Germany into Switzerland...

Grindelwald and a glimpse of the Swiss Alps...

Enjoying a periodic dip in the Rhein River on a hot day, flowing right through the center of Basel (10 minutes or less away from us)...

Drinking from one of the numerous fountains scattered throughout the city that runs clean water 24 hours a day (an anomaly for these Californians used to skimping on water use)...

The beautiful churches, and

beautiful old walls get me every time...

swimming upstream

The condition of my house is overwhelming me. Some days I am constantly moving, trying to keep on top of it all. Somehow there seems to be no visible progress made. In frustration, I tell my husband I feel like I am swimming upstream.

It is the feeling I get when I realize that in the time it took me to wash and fold three loads of laundry, three more loads were generated. In the 20 minutes it took me to make dinner, the toy box exploded in the living room and someone dumped and scattered the contents of every board game we own. When I finally carved out an hour to reorganize a disastrous mess of a closet, the rest of the house fell to pieces. There appears to be no recovery.

Four other people living in this home are working against me and my single-handed attempt to keep this place livable. I am working really hard, and getting nowhere. I am swimming upstream, against a really strong current.

Whether drowning in my own home or drowning in the inevitable onslaught of life, I can't seem to get caught up. I know it isn't me alone experiencing this. I have friends who are drowning in mortgage payments or unexpected bills. Drowning in doctor appointments and the responsibilities of home treatments. Drowning in homework and meaningless assignments. Drowning in the balance between work-life and home-life. Drowning in family dysfunction. Drowning in shame over the past, a thing which can not be changed. Drowning in guilt, bitterness, anger, unhealthy thought patterns, addictions that don't help anyone.

Life doesn't need an invitation to beat us down in discouragement. Daily routines take all of the energy we have just to stay afloat. One added accident, crisis, or heartache is enough to sink us.

When I am working really hard and making no progress, I have to ask myself, what am I striving for? Am I really in this exhausted state because I want a cleaner house? Am I drained of energy because there are more tasks to be completed than minutes in the day? The answer is usually that I am striving for the wrong things. The place where I imagine the laundry is finished, the bills are all paid, the children are healthy and sleeping well, and the toys live permanently on their respective shelves, is a place of controlled peace. The problem with controlled peace is that the moment any item in the equation changes I begin to, once again, feel that I am swimming upstream.

God does not intend for us to drown in the waters of life. Actually, most Biblical references to water are intended to be life-giving.

The image of water presented in Psalm 23, one of the most well known passages in all of Scripture, is one of refreshment and restoration. Quite contrary to the image of swimming upstream, it says that God will lead us beside quiet waters. It is a picture of God leading anxious, striving people to a calm and restorative place. A place where life still happens, but we are not using our entire supply of energy to still feel needy in the end.

The quiet waters that God promises are not dependent on my circumstances, or the condition of my house, or the lack of help I am getting from the people around me. He leads me to a place where I can take a drink, and take a breath, and take a moment in the midst of it all. Following Him doesn't change the strength of the current, it changes how much I am affected by it.

Psalm 23 (The Message)
God, my shepherd!
    I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
    you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
    you let me catch my breath
    and send me in the right direction. 

Even when the way goes through
    Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
    when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
    makes me feel secure. 

You serve me a six-course dinner
    right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
    my cup brims with blessing. 

Your beauty and love chase after me
    every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.

   
Find God, and you have found a quiet pool to drink from. You have found a moment to collect. Beauty and love are the only things chasing after you. And I like to imagine that when I am home in the house of God, the cooking and cleaning is somebody else's responsibility.

proverbs

In a desperate search for wisdom as a mother... as a wife... as a friend... as a woman... as a daughter... as an encourager... as a listener... as an advice-giver... as a chore do-er... as a musician... as a teacher... as a book-keeper... as a money-spender... as a time-spender... as a leader in women's ministry... as a woman seeking to strive for God's best in my life... Wow.  I need a lot of wisdom.  Primarily, as a mother raising these two little monkeys...

... Miss Grump-o on the right, and Miss Unpredictable on the left.

In this desperate search for wisdom, I am committing to read a section of Proverbs each morning before I get out of bed.  A book full of wisdom for all occasions.  A "section" will remain loosely defined.  Perhaps only a few verses are necessary to chew on for the remainder of the day.  Right now, that is all I can commit to, but it is a starting point in my quest to become the woman God wants me to be.

Anyone with me?

Today's gem:

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but a fool despises wisdom and discipline."

Proverbs 1:7