THE AWKWARD MOM

because uncomfortable conversations are the ones worth having

Category: relationships (page 2 of 20)

Walking with Kids through Church Hurt

Reading Time: 4 minutes

church hurt

This is one of those posts where I’m not an expert, just a mom. (Um, most of my posts?!)

But maybe these small ideas will help. And if I’m smart, I’ll keep this short, right? read more

3 Simple, Un-weird Ways to Start Spiritual Conversations

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spiritual conversations

If you’ve followed this blog for awhile, you know I taught refugees for a handful of years, many of them Muslim–people and a task I adored.

I was surprised to learn a difference between the Bible and the Qur’an: The Qur’an isn’t a narrative, like much of the Bible is. (The Qur’an is laid out more like Psalms or Proverbs.)  read more

Where’s God Working in My Kids in 2022? 10 Questions

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kids in 2022

Okay, yes, I am this big Enneagram 2, and I am frequently caught “two-ing” in my family—overfunctioning like a crazy person, sublimating any needs of my own, etc.

But I also have this monstrous, flapping-larger-than-my-triceps 3-wing. Which means, for all of you unfamiliar with enneagram-speak, that I am an achiever.  Goal-setting can fill my sails (…to the point of what we’ll call “Christian workaholism”). read more

2021 Best Posts of the Year!

Reading Time: 3 minutes

But for the last few days, I’d been sifting through a few emotions about 2022. A new year comes with some gravity–especially after a tough 2021 for my family.

Recently I completed a yearly prayer of Examen–my second year of a new personal tradition. Like the Israelites standing at the Jordan and choosing stones of remembrance (Joshua 4), I’m looking back at how I’ve seen God writing His story in and around me. And how his presence has met me there. read more

Yes Man: Why I need people who aren’t my fans

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yes man

If you’ve been a longtime follower of this blog, bear with me today as I repost an oldie but a goodie, due to extenuating circumstances. It remains true: To the yes-man or -woman in my life, I need you.

Thanks, everyone, for the grace. – Janel read more

Doubt, Parenting-Sabotage, and Seeing God in My Kids

Reading Time: 5 minutes

doubt

As part of the premise of this blog, I commit to uncomfortable conversations worth having. And the onus of that falls on me—toward authenticity in the midst of my own doubt and weirdness.

So today, I’m opening the convo with something I regret. read more

Questions for a Closer Marriage (FREE PRINTABLE)

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Before my husband’s last (pre-COVID) international trip, I realized one of the things I miss most about him.

As he was packing–so methodical, everything in precisely-sized containers, shirts carefully folded over a packing template–I told him quietly, “See, you humanize me.”  read more

Mini-date! Mastering the Art of Quick Connections

Reading Time: 4 minutes

mini-date

This is one of those posts where I need to hand it to my husband. He’s a master of the mini-date (and he probably hadn’t heard of those till I told him about this post).

I read the following from a reader of Real Simple this month–in answer to the question, “What do you admire about your parents’ relationship?”

“Even if it’s just a silly thing, like taking out the trash together every Monday night, they always carve out time to connect. May parents have been married for 36 years because they’re masters of the minidate.” (@thedapple_)

So this made me realize all the cool ways my husband does this–and ways I’ve learned to do it back. It means our day brims with potential for little touchpoints, especially when we’re both working from home.

“What’s a mini-date?”

Mini-dates are all about intentionally forming intimate connection in the little moments. It turns something as simple as driving or making the bed together into a time that says, I see you.

What your mini-date isn’t

A mini-date doesn’t substitute for longer, more meaningful conversations or quality time. It’s not so you can check off your box: Well. You should be satisfied for the day!

(It’s like how quickie sex can be a nice little addition to a day, but you wouldn’t want every sexual encounter to be record-setting in that particular way…?)

Note: Mini-dates are also not a great time to bring up what’s irritating you about your spouse. (Nothing screams “romance” like “You never put the toilet paper on the holder,” right?)

The mini-date you might be missing

Maybe like me, you have four kids, but it feels like six. You could be hoping your next mini-date doesn’t involve a diaper pail (at least not one you’re carrying) or scrubbing something out of the carpet.

Wondering when or where a mini-date could happen?

  • prepping dinner
  • getting ready for bed or winding down after the kids’ bedtime
  • getting dressed
  • loading the dishwasher
  • driving
  • calling to your spouse on the drive home (this was us last Friday night)
  • grabbing a cup of coffee at home
  • while one of you (…or both?) takes a shower
  • massaging your mate or rubbing their feet or hands
  • making a simple snack together (smoothies? Nachos? popcorn?)
  • ducking out to go to a drive-thru
  • going on a walk around the block
  • tossing a football
  • bringing your mate a pick-me-up (“I saw you didn’t have lunch. Here’s a sandwich.” “I made you a cup of coffee.”)
  • stepping outside at night beneath the stars or in a snowfall, maybe with a shared blanket around your shoulders
  • Crated with Love has even more great mini-date ideas here.

How to make a mini-date

Ask good questions that help you see your spouse’s world. Bonus: The more you mini-date, the easier it is for you to get deeper in the future.

Some of my husband’s and my fave mini-date questions:

  • How are you right now?
  • What’s been on your mind? What’s sticking with you?
  • What is (was) that like for you?
  • What was one “win” in your day today? (Hint: Get excited about your spouse’s wins with them. Two studies show there’s a close correlation between a couple sharing good news [called “capitalization”] and their happiness. It’s a better indicator of relational satisfaction than talking about what’s hard.)
  • What was your “low” for the day? (Tip: Only use this question paired with the question above.)
  • What are you hoping today/tonight will look like?
  • What do you need right now?
  • How can I pray for you today?

Other tips:

  • Keep a mental sticky note of funny stuff you see each day. It’s great to start or end any mini-date with a laugh.
  • It’s inevitable little matters of business will come up (who’s picking up the kids). Just prioritize: Can you talk about other business later? Or is this more important than connecting, so no family member is left at the orthodontist for the rest of the winter?

mini-date

When you want to kick things up a notch

Keep a few items on hand to ratchet up your mini-date:

“I just don’t understand”: What it says about me

Reading Time: 4 minutes

I just don't understand

“I just don’t understand how…”

I heard it again this week from someone else. This is after hearing it more times than I could count with someone else’s conflict.

Sure, there are times when this phrase fits in an argument. I could’ve used it, say, when my son this morning initially refused to clean off the stovetop because he only put the grease there, not the crumbs.

This was after I had been cleaning up others’ messes for about an hour while he slept before school.

I may have flipped my lid…?

This is an occasion where I could see myself saying (or may have indirectly said?), I DO NOT UNDERSTAND how you do not see yourself responsible for being your brother’s/sister’s/I-don’t-care-who’s keeper to clean up their few crumbs, yet see me as responsible for yours.

But I digress.

“I just don’t understand” how you could be that dumb

I’ve recently heard “I just don’t understand” in contexts like this:

I just don’t understand why this person doesn’t want my feedback.

Man, I don’t understand how someone can’t just be responsible for themselves.

I just don’t understand how all those idiots can vote for [name].

Really?! I don’t understand how someone can be a true Christian/American/thoughtful human and support [whatever].

So if you will allow my two cents: In general, “I just don’t understand” doesn’t feel like a waving banner of emotional maturity. For us. For our kids.

And it is killing us–as a nation, and even as a Church.

Because We’ve Been Understood

Allow me one Scriptural defense. In Philippians 2, catch the source of our compassion for others: It’s Jesus’ compassion and understanding of us.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 

complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

What if Jesus had just been like, I just don’t understand how you could [insert disgusting or just reprehensible weakness]. 

It’s our intimate, I’ve-lived-this knowledge of Jesus’ own sympathy with us that helps us walk a mile in someone else’s Chuck Taylors. We’ve felt this God-man who is “not…unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are” (Hebrews 4:15).

(Not to be confused with the Jack Handy quote: “Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way, you’ll be a mile from them, and you’ll have their shoes.” Forgive me, people. It’s Friday.)

Jesus gets us. He climbed into our skin.

“Can you really not see it?!”

My husband pointed out to me once that if we can’t see how someone else CANNOT SEE something (hello, the underwear lying next to the hamper? The toilet paper sitting on top of the holder?), it could be a sign it’s a God-given area of strength for us.

If you can’t figure out how a person in poverty can’t show up for a job–maybe it’s a sign you haven’t had parents who struggled to remain employed. That you’ve never known illiteracy or life without private transportation or mental illness or the vise of addiction.

I confess that for a few years in Africa, I had thoughts like this. (Spoiler: Still have them.)

When I saw the grocery-store stocker snoozing, perched on a crate in the aisle, I thought: lazy.

But what if, along with the maybe-or-maybe-not paycheck, I was the one turning over on the ground at night in a noisy, dangerous neighborhood? What if I served 12 hours as a night guard as my second job while attending classes during the morning for a better shot at providing for my kids?

Could that person actually be hardworking, and caught in a moment of exhaustion? (Picture me dozing in church during my first trimester.)

See, my swift judgment—maybe sweetly called “discernment” or righteous indignation—has prevented me at times from witnessing God’s beauty and glory in others.

I’m talking the breadth of his image as expressed in a robust, diverse Church, drinking in his wide mercy right along with me. A beauty different from God’s Western, female, middle-class, Caucasian image in me.

What’s some behavior or belief you just can’t understand?

Now, when I catch “I just don’t understand” about to fly out of my mouth–I think, Shoot. Haven’t even tried. Or at least not hard enough.

Maybe I could think, Jesus, thanks for “getting” me. No matter what. And, How can I raise kids who “get” everybody else?

How can I listen to you better?

And in a season where so often I hear “I just can’t understand” the people who watch Fox or CNN, or vote red or blue, or protest or don’t:

If we can’t understand?

For goodness’ sake. Let’s try.

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When You’re Scrabbling for Hope for *That* Child

Reading Time: 5 minutes

hope

Anyone else out there go through these seasons when you’re struggling to find hope around one of your kids?

Gnawing on this recently, I realized I’ve gone through seasons of this with each of my kids. Some more than others, sure. But there was that year when I was deeply concerned about my daughter’s manipulation. Or my son’s ADHD taking a wrecking ball to his relationships. Or that kid whose ego I could see splintering him off from listening to God.

I confess I’ve had some of those days lately, emphasized by the occasional argument or just the regular triggers of my own fear. For one particular conflict, I felt like God gave me so much grace in the moment to handle it…but I woke up in the morning wrecked.

I asked my husband, How is that doing the right thing feels so horrible?

(I know. Welcome to parenting.)

So I’m scribbling down reminders to myself today, and thought you might want to peek over my shoulder. ‘Cause maybe you’re there, too.

In the waiting, look for the hope.

Recently on a walk, I asked God if he would give me just one slice of hope around this child every day. (Honestly, a tiny voice in me wondered if I was setting myself up for disappointment.)

But I’ve been delightfully surprised. God has indeed given me at least one thing to hope for every day.

And there’s even some psychology behind that. Social researcher Shaunti Feldhahn points out that looking for things to praise a person for changes our own brains. Our own hearts.

You might say it’s thinking on what’s true, noble, right, pure, lovely, excellent, praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8-9). (Keeping a running list helps, too.)

Feldhahn tells the story of a woman who accepted Feldhahn’s researched-based 30-Day Kindness Challenge, but told Shaunti, “You don’t know my husband.”

The Challenge, see, requires praising or appreciating one thing each day about the person who’s the object of your challenge. The woman thought she’d need to store up a bank of things to praise him for, because she wouldn’t have something each day.

But as she continued with the challenge, her list of things to praise…grew. Every. Day.

Finding sources of praise–toward God about my child, or verbally to my child–changes me.

hope

Take the Kindness Challenge.

This is my next step, I decided after that conflict. I’m taking the Challenge for this child (just one person the first time, Shaunti suggests). Scroll down on this page on Shaunti’s website for the three requirements to complete each day for 30 days.

Watch the inner narrative.

I’ve increasingly realized my interpretations of events–the stories I tell myself–powerfully affect my sense of love and hope.

Take, for example, my rowdy boys yukking it up the other night after 9 PM while I was seeking to relax. We have renters living in our basement–who are told when moving in, “Please expect family noise.” As in, It might sound like a herd of rhinos are sparring above your head.

Yes, I asked the boys to chill. But I also turned to my husband and said, “Hear that? That’s the sound of our kids getting along.” Yes, like animals that might fare better on the African savannah–but hey, getting along.

I used to be confused by what Jesus meant by “the eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light” (Matthew 6:22). Huh?

But it’s the way I see things–more accurately choose to see things–that makes my perspective healthy or unhealthy. The story I tell myself about what’s going on affects a lot of how I act, and how much light I’m able to see.

(God seemed to remind me this past week that I chronically underestimate both his love and his control.)

So in keeping with my first memo–I’m looking for the hope when I’m tempted toward abject fear or anger. Is there something to be thankful for? Is God’s goodness present in some form, rather than all turned black?

Realize how God welcomes longing.

Author Amy Young reminds me God welcomes my yearning. He asks me, like he asks so many others in the Bible–“What do you want me to do?”

Maybe you’re not sure.

Read over this list of desires or longings and see which catch your eye, or stir a longing in you:

Peace

Relief

Comfort

Revenge

Rest

Protection

Presence

Healing

Getting in touch with what we want, presenting it to him, helps us manage that desire, keeping open hands…rather than it managing us from behind.

I was fascinated by a question in David Powlison’s X-Ray Questions–designed to reveal idols in my heart. He asks, What do you pray for?

At first, I thought praying would be the exact opposite of something taking up God’s space in my heart, stealing my reverence and worship.

But can even holy endeavors become idols? You betcha. It is good and beautiful for me to pursue raising godly kids. But if God doesn’t give that, and I’m seething in anger or oozing unbelief from what he’s taken from me?

That longing swells beyond its good order. It can seek to control and punish. (Note: This indeed can describe me. Right now.)

So yes! I should pray for those things and present them to God. But yes, my longing can teach me a lot about the heart they come from.

Pray for their next temptation.

Puritan preacher Jeremiah Burroughs wrote,

You cannot imagine what great deal of good it will do to resist the very next temptation.

So I’ve been doing that lately: praying for my kids to resist their next one. I also pray for specific temptations I anticipate for each child.

hope

Hope Rising

Truth: I began this post a month ago. Somewhere in there, I went through some dark days, realizing how long I’ve been praying for this child. How long I’ve been…

Waiting.

But even as I type, I marvel at what God’s done in the last month. No miracles have in fact bloomed before me–other than the small miracles of God resurrecting things in this child’s life. They’re like buds after a winter, when you wondered if that one tree was dead…or just dormant, gathering ingredients for growth.

If you’ve read to here? I’m praying that today, you glimpse some surprising signs of life.

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