Aj Schwanz

You wouldnít think those two things go together, now, would you? But it is possible to glean parenting wisdom while having a tooth extracted - though I wouldnít suggest it for everyone.

Itís been quite a week - sick cats and uncontainable excrement (check my Xanga for further details - it wasnít mine ) and exploding food and such. And itís all been colored by having an aching jaw as one of my ìthird molarsî decided to be pissy. My mouth is so large (really - quite enormous, and itís coupled with my ability to be profusely loud and boisterous - wonder where my son gets it? ) that I thought Iíd be immune to the ìwisdom teeth removalî experience of which most the world partakes. But it finally caught up with me, and the time came to get at least one crabby one removed.

I was quite nervous - it all happened so quickly. I called to make an appointment for a while down the road, and ended up in the dental chair two hours later. Mental preparation was lacking: I didnít have time to prepare myself for drills and other nasty things going into my mouth.

But enter the best oral surgeon in the world. He had been recommended to me a) by my former boss (my favorite former boss) and 2) my new and beloved dentist who I wish I could slip him in my pocket and take him everywhere with me - except I donít have pockets that big, and his kids would probably miss him. I mentioned to the surgeon that my former boss referred me, and they apparently know each other from church: the surgeon was my bossís Sunday School teacher for the young marriedís class. He didnít say anything, but Iím sure he could tell by the wary, glazed look in my eye that I wasnít necessarily at my best, so he started talking about two things that are central points in my life and could properly distract my attention: spirituality and parenting.

He began by talking about Proverbs 22:6 - Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. He said that itís one of the most mis-interpreted verses in the Bible (you know, thereís a lot of those, Iím finding). Folks take it to mean that a morally-raised child will party as an adult and eventually find his/her way back to the ìright life.î The surgeon said itís actually means to raise your child up in his/her particular bent - to be intentional in discovering the unique facets of their personality and help those to mature. His oldest child is an artist, so heís surrounded by different experiences that help him engage his creative side. His youngest son is a ìman of Issacar, who understood the times and knew what Israel should doî (I Chronicles 12:32). Each week he takes his son out to breakfast, and as they pour over a newspaper, they talk about world events and what that means. Wow!

When each of his sons started into puberty, rather than sitting down and giving them the dreaded ìsex talkî, he wrote up a sort of curriculum on what it means to come of age - to be a man, to be financially responsible, to be a boyfriend or husband, to be a part of the church, to be a part of society, etc. He took them for a week-long vacation of their choosing - one went fishing, the other went on a cruise. What a grand idea - rather than having the awkward ìgoing into puberty means I can tell you what you already know but probably shouldnít about sexî talk, he presented it as a holistic sort of change which other cultures seem to do well, but not so much in the grand US of A.

This man obviously takes utter delight in his role as a parent, reaching and stretching to help equip his kids to be the Children of God that they are. It took time, he said: folks ask if itís quality or quantity of time, and he says itís both - you have to put in the quantity to catch those five minutes of quality, and if youíre not paying attention, youíll miss the window of opportunity.

Needless to say, it was the most pleasant, mind-engaging painful experience Iíve ever been through.

This week Iím helping out with VBS at church, and man: am I out of shape - not physically, but coming-up-with-kid-activities shape. Who forgets how to play Headís Up, 7-Up? Iím trying to be intentional about keeping an eye on pulse of our youth - but apparently Iíve gotta keep digging deeper.
In my bloglines account through the Dtour aggregator the title of this post caught my eye - partially because Iíd love to know some cool emerging/missional blogging chicks, and partially because selfishly I want to be one (ah, Paul, this dying to Self thing is not an easy matter). Much to my shock, folks had actually mentioned my blog! And, folks commented that it wasnít overly obvious that I was a female blogger (the initials thing is rather ambiguous) - I hadnít ever thought about that: seems like it could put a different slant reading a blog and not knowing the authorís gender.

I posted a comment on his site (itís lengthy - sorry: my verbal interaction today with folks has mostly been ìget in line and march quietly!î and ìwho knows the ëpeanut, peanut butter . . . and jellyí song?î). Iíve never really thought about the lack of female ìtheologian-typeî bloggers. Most female author blogs that I read revolve around motherhood, knitting, cooking, and some really great female marketing blogs - they’re not necessarily of the hip/tech/pointedly spiritual nature.

I started wondering if men have more compartmentalized lives than women. When I was younger, I could always pester my mom at work - folks knew she was first and foremost a mom. But I didnít always have that freedom with my dad: folks expected him to act a certain way, to do business at work and home-stuff at home.

I also wondered if women are blogging ec-style: they just donít directly mention it: they do rather than speak. Iíve been intentional about using this blog as a forum to discuss things of a more spiritual nature; I have another blog that talks about the ins and outs of life as a new Mom. Itís more tapping into viewership: if youíre looking for thoughts on why young adults donít attend church, you probably donít want to wade through a story of an eleven-month oldís irregular bowel movements.

But thatís the thing about womensí lives: they donít compartmentalize - it all relates.

• When I go out to coffee with my pastor to talk about new ways our church body could engage our community, I take my son and chase after him, making sure he doesnít eat all the coffee shopís sugar packets.
• When I explore ways to have a more intergenerational worship gatherings, itís because I want to worship with my son - not have him segregated in his own classroom all the time.
• When I converse with others at the grocery store as they stop to talk to Judah, itís because I believe God has given me an opportunity to engage folks through this experience of motherhood.

Itís all connected: itís not necessarily black and white or laid out in nice bullets like Iíve just done. But looking closely at the telling of the daily details paints a (w)holistic picture of living an integrated life of seaching/questions/engaging/converting/becoming.

I think cool ec chick bloggers are out there: what are we doing to seek them out?

Being a new mom and a research junkie, Iíve found the internet to be a blessing and a curse in its abundance of parenting articles and advice - a blessing in being able to diagnose how high my sonís temperature should go before needing to take him into the doctor, but a curse in its multitude of advice about parenting styles . . . and of course, every article thinks that itís the highest authority in advice to be given.

Breast feed for one year? Two years? Till they crawl up your shirt and ask for lunch? Or formula-feed all the way?

Have a schedule for the day? A schedule created by the parents forcing the child to conform? Or a schedule created by the child forcing the parents to try to interpret each little whimper and moan?

Cloth diaper? Disposable diaper? No diaper? (I just read a story about non-diapering parents: they believed it was cruel to let their child ìmarinateî in their own excrement - tasty).

My father would say ìseparate the wheat from the chaff - take what works for you, and disregard the rest,î but my poor little brain feels like itís harvest season, and not all of the threshers are working quite right (theyíre a little sleep deprived). Every once in a while I come across an article that makes me stop and think, usually because it relates to the parenting world, but also the world beyond.

If you let them, your children will show you the parent they need.

Ah, those preconceived notions ñ theyíll take you down the Wrong Road every time. When your eyes are clouded with all you wish, want and will something to be, you are bound to end up missing all the great information and truths offered to you along the way. - Rosemary Danielis

By interacting with my son, I begin to know him more fully and respond to his needs a little bit better; if I force him to accept my ideals and expectations, we both become rather crabby. When I was a toddler, I remembered having quiet mornings around my house - time to wake up, eat in my pajamas, watch the morning edition of Sesame Street: time to prepare adequately to engage the world. I didnít always leave the house - some days were spent wandering around in our pasture and playing hide & seek with my brother.

So when I first had my son, I tried to honor ìhisî needs by having quiet mornings. Except they werenít quiet: he was fussy - *really* fussy. Feeding, diapering, playing - nothing seemed to subside this constant whine. . . . until Iíd go to the store. As an infant, heíd finally be quiet [enter me singing the ìHallelujah Chorusî], taking in all of the scenery. Now, he flashes giant grins at all the people passing by, as well as flirting something awful with checkers. See, Iíve given birth to an extrovert, so my well-meaning intentions of slowly easing into the day mean nothing to him: he wants to go out and party! Once I started listening to his needs rather that projecting my own desires, our household was a much happier place.

I began to wonder if the church ever does this. Is the church being the church *it* desires to be, or the church that the broken and weary need? Does the church look for cues and spend time intentionally listening/studying/engaging, or does it keep focusing on its own needs?

I could spout off some broad general statements like ìpeople in need are those in poverty or homeless or in gangs or are addicts, so we should help them . . . somehow.î But I donít live in generalities: my community is full of specifics, individuals, people.

• What cues is my church perhaps missing in our community?
• Where are there people crying for help, guidance, support in my locality?
• In what ways am I trying to minister that are simply a projection of my desires and ìpreconceived notionsî?
• Have any of you had experiences of responding to the needs of specific individuals in your community?

I would answer, but thereís a Little Extrovert pulling on my jeans, probably as a means of requesting a trip to the library. So Iíll ponder for a while, asking the Lord to open my ears and eyes: what am I missing? What am I not hearing? Where should I be looking? And how can I bear your Light to those who ache for your wholeness?