Parents.

Parents often stand in the way of their children finding purpose.  They push and plead their way into their children finding significance.  Whether it be through gymnastics, sports, achievement, school, friends...they push for their kids to work more, work harder, and BE something, by golly.  I'm not suggesting we sit back and let be what be, never offering encouragement or prodding when necessary.  Parents know best when their shy kids need a little push, their loud kids need a little taming, their not so inspired kids needs to work, etc.  You get the picture, I hope.  But what about the kid's parents standing over them with a scrunched up, stressed face because she wants her son to advance to the championship?  She's "coaching" through intense eyes & pursed lips..."What happened?  What did you say?  What did you do?  Why didn't you...  Make sure you..."  And again, I hope you get the picture.  I'm not talking about the wise words we often share with our children, but rather the TONE in which it is said.  Does all this prodding keep them from finding significance in Christ rather than in the THING they are doing?  I'm afraid so.

At a recent Speech & Debate Tournament I did a lot of observing.  My family is new at this, and definitely green.  Of all the newness, debate is the most intimidating, confusing experience of yet.  Accordingly, I think we have a perspective others have lost and that we will never be granted again.  Before it wears off, I thought I'd draw a few conclusions.

At this tournament I met the sweetest, humblest parents.  They were dressed plainly, not in the similar "professional" garb of all us other parents.  They sat and talked with all the parents, smiled, and offered encouragement.  The dad in particular striked up a conversation while we were at the ballot table.  He wanted to know how my kid liked it and what our struggles were.  His wife served in the kitchen almost the entire weekend.  Whenever I saw her she smiled.  It was an instant friendship.  Often we would get to sneak in a few minutes to chat.  She easily shared what was on her heart about parenting, her struggles, her own fears.  They often asked which of my kids was competing and how they liked it.  I asked them in return.  They were so sweet and cute and just answered that their son has always loved it, especially debate, and that he wanted to start when he was 12.  He had to wait until 13.  I pictured a cute little boy, eager to learn.

The day continued and she and I would steal away a quick conversation or two.  My prayer was that I could offer this amazing woman some encouragement.  I felt humbled but it seemed like she needed a drink of water.  Recently I have felt refreshed from the Father and felt maybe I could offer a little of the hope I had received.  And then the most unexpected thing happened.  Walking by quickly with a ballot I happened to glance over her way.  She was speaking in a motherly sort of way to this one gentleman.  To call him anything less would be disrespectful.  For he is a young man, indeed, full of accomplishment and great speaking ability.  Even though she didn't touch him, her words caressed his sweet little face, and she spoke with so much respect and encouragement, you could sense her words from where I was standing. Her son was the young man that had just won the final regional debate I attended the previous month!  The young man I had been so impressed with.  The one I was sure any lawyer would be crazy not to snatch up.  He donned a sharp suit, slick hair, polished shoes, and a genuine smile.  Better yet, his speaking ability was beyond anything I had ever encountered.  He was flawless, cool, confident, experienced.  He broke down the opposing argument with such skill and calm demeanor it was like watching a beautiful sunrise slowly peek out of the horizon to its full glory.  At the end there was no doubt where the light was shining.

I did a double-take.  Could this really be her son?  The man and the woman with such humility?  They weren't up there bragging that their son had won the last tournament?  The creme de la creme?  Instead, he was described as the son "who liked debate since he was 12 and has a natural ability".  And, "We must do what we can to encourage our kids in their abilities without pushing them."  Wow.  I was humbled.  Apparently, I had a lot to learn from them, too.  What a contrast from some of these other parents at this tournament.  Hand fulls stand over their students, with steely eyes staring holes through their children and other parents.  If their child didn't win, didn't do well, they would have every one's head on a platter.  Now maybe I'm not being fair, I don't KNOW these parents.  But just so they know, from a distance, as an observer, they have much different expressions on their faces when talking to their children.  I hope I always remember that.

And for a good blog on Debate:  http://carmelconversations.blogspot.com/2012/02/elephant-rooms-and-bones-to-pick_18.html?spref=fb

Purpose

The purpose of this blog is to find purpose.  Sounds redundant doesn't it?  But as I was returning from a trip I realized this is what I've been doing lately.  Er, rather, what Christ has been doing in me.  Finding purpose.  And isn't that what every person achieves to do? Whether consciously or subconsciously.  The problem is, we need to find our significance in Christ!  When we don't, we feel lost and rutterless.  I hope to share my journeys and do a a little processing along the way.  Maybe it will help you out too!

I  have a dream and a passion to help others find their purpose too.  Afterall, that's what I do all day!  I school 4 beautiful children, leading them to the fresh springs of Christ daily.  Each day is filled with the poetry of the ups and downs of this journey.  But I pray in the end it will be exactly as our Creator would have it.

So on this blog you should find some tools that will help you along your journey.  Are you creative?  Passionate?  Obstinate?  Articulate?  A dancer? A poet? A programmer? A scientist? A historian?  It all has a place in this glorious race we call life.