Policing Bad Behavior

My grandson told me that when he hears a police siren, he knows FOR SURE that one of his friends at school is getting a visit. "Why do you think he is the reason the police are coming?" I ask.

"Meme, he is a bad bad boy and causes lots of trouble." Well, ok. But this is the same kid that my grandson also tries to play with sometimes - usually to his detriment if his stories are accurately narrated. I've tried to share with him as best I can what I am learning about being a good friend.

Here are some questions that I ask Christian to consider when choosing friends.

"Does this friend help you be a kind person when you play? Are they kind to you and others?"

"Does this friend make you feel happier when you are having a sad day?"

"Does this friend share?"

I try to mix the questions up a bit, but my point is this: a friend, a true friend, needs to refresh our soul. Christian is too young to hear the rest, but when he is in first grade I will share more. I will tell Christian that I try to pick friends who make me a better person, who make me feel less anxious and frustrated by the world and more at peace in the present. I will tell Christian that I try to stick with friends who do not always make me happy - because sometimes we need loving pushes to grow, but who always have my back. I will tell Christian that good friends make you a better human, especially when you disagree on issues. But right now, I'm just working on getting Christian off this idea that he runs the police and they will do his bidding by picking up kids who do not follow his rules. It's a process, right? We're all doing the best we can AND we are working to learn more and do better.

Just as lotions and fragrance give sensual delight, a sweet friendship refreshes the soul.

Proverbs 27:9 The Message

Day 19: When We Know Better, We Can Do Better

One of the lost traditions of my childhood and early adulthood was time spent with my grandparents. As newlyweds, Pete and I loved visiting my grandparents in Durham, NC. These were not the same kind of visits that I remembered as a child – filled with fun times and lots of good, home cooked meals. Sadly, my grandfather developed dementia.

Pete never saw my Papa at his fast moving, quick witted, mechanically minded, athletically inclined self. Care for my grandfather wore my grandmother out. Naturally, when my grandmother knew we were coming, she was relieved to think that we could help her with some of the chores that her frail body couldn’t handle. When we arrived, she would greet us with a hug…and a list. This list was comprehensive, usually composed in order of priority – in early December, we knew that the list would include holiday decorating, gift buying and more.

As a young woman, I hated the list. I felt a shift in the relationship. I intuited that when my grandmother looked at me, she saw an elf, not her first born (and only) granddaughter. I grieved the loss of the lazy, hazy days of summer when I came to her looking for respite and care. I feared the decline of both of these vibrant, loving people. It was hard to admit to myself that I was sad. It was easier to get mad about the ding dang list.

Recently, I came across a quote from David Benner’s book Sacred Companions that helped me put some vocabulary to my experiences back then.

“In dialogue I meet you as a person, not an object. When we treat others as objects, even for benevolent reasons, we rob them of their humanity.”

Sacred Companions, David Benner, p.55

When I see my Mama in heaven, I look forward to asking her what she was really thinking way back then. I wish that I could have handled the situation differently at the time. Instead of building up resentments, I could have talked this through with my grandmother, or a sacred companion. Maybe a friend could have pointed out what I should have seen all along – it was never about the list - it was about coming to grips with loss.

As you move into the holiday season, do you have any relationships that are in an awkward transition? If so, rather than keeping your own counsel, might I suggest that you talk to someone whom you respect about what you are thinking? Best yet, if you can do so without doing harm, maybe you could risk revealing a bit more of yourself, and talking with the person you feel awkward around, to see if you can resolve an issue or two. (Certainly, any of us having this kind of conversation would get wise counsel, and make sure we are communicating carefully, so as to avoid doing our own “objectification” – but talking stuff through before a stressful time of pressured holiday interactions can avoid needless harming and future needs for amends making!)

When we know better, we can do better. If there was ever a year when we could try our best to do a tiny bit better, this is that year! People need us to try!

Day 19: When We Know Better, We Can Do Better

One of the lost traditions of my childhood and early adulthood was time spent with my grandparents. As newlyweds, Pete and I loved visiting my grandparents in Durham, NC. These were not the same kind of visits that I remembered as a child – filled with fun times and lots of good, home cooked meals. Sadly, my grandfather developed dementia.

Pete never saw my Papa at his fast moving, quick witted, mechanically minded, athletically inclined self. Care for my grandfather wore my grandmother out. Naturally, when my grandmother knew we were coming, she was relieved to think that we could help her with some of the chores that her frail body couldn’t handle. When we arrived, she would greet us with a hug…and a list. This list was comprehensive, usually composed in order of priority – in early December, we knew that the list would include holiday decorating, gift buying and more.

As a young woman, I hated the list. I felt a shift in the relationship. I intuited that when my grandmother looked at me, she saw an elf, not her first born (and only) granddaughter. I grieved the loss of the lazy, hazy days of summer when I came to her looking for respite and care. I feared the decline of both of these vibrant, loving people. It was hard to admit to myself that I was sad. It was easier to get mad about the ding dang list.

Recently, I came across a quote from David Benner’s book Sacred Companions that helped me put some vocabulary to my experiences back then.

“In dialogue I meet you as a person, not an object. When we treat others as objects, even for benevolent reasons, we rob them of their humanity.”

Sacred Companions, David Benner, p.55

When I see my Mama in heaven, I look forward to asking her what she was really thinking way back then. I wish that I could have handled the situation differently at the time. Instead of building up resentments, I could have talked this through with my grandmother, or a sacred companion. Maybe a friend could have pointed out what I should have seen all along – it was never about the list - it was about coming to grips with loss.

As you move into the holiday season, do you have any relationships that are in an awkward transition? If so, rather than keeping your own counsel, might I suggest that you talk to someone whom you respect about what you are thinking? Best yet, if you can do so without doing harm, maybe you could risk revealing a bit more of yourself, and talking with the person you feel awkward around, to see if you can resolve an issue or two. (Certainly, any of us having this kind of conversation would get wise counsel, and make sure we are communicating carefully, so as to avoid doing our own “objectification” – but talking stuff through before a stressful time of pressured holiday interactions can avoid needless harming and future needs for amends making!)

When we know better, we can do better. If there was ever a year when we could try our best to do a tiny bit better, this is that year! People need us to try!

Day 20: Sacred Companionship

I have a secret.

If an alien from Mars popped down and observed Cookie Day – she might think Cookie Day is all about making cookies. This is not true. One of the yummy by-products of Cookie Day is dozens and dozens of cookies. We bring them to our NorthStar Christmas Brunch, we share them with our neighbors, we eat them with every holiday meal. (There was even one year, when the activities got so out of hand that I actually served them for dinner!)

But the real reason for Cookie Day is about gift giving (and I am not talking about cookies): the gift of dialogue. Years ago, Jean and I discovered that it was hard to not lose heart and grow weary and faint over the holiday season. Some years, the weight of expectation lay heavy across our maternal shoulders. (Finding the perfect Cabbage Patch Doll is one example.) Other Christmas holidays showed up during times of great suffering and loss, causing the sound of holiday jingles to fray our every last nerve. We learned that taking a day to make cookies was one way we could hit a pause button and remind each other of our sacred obligation to be a blessing to others.

“Dialogue involves shared inquiry designed to increase the awareness and understanding of all parties. In dialogue the intent is exploration, discovery and insight. In dialogue I attempt to share how I experience the world and seek to understand how you do so. In this process each participant touches and is touched by others. This results in each person’s being changed. In dialogue I meet you as a person, not an object.“

Sacred Companions, by David Benner, p.55

Yes, Cookie Day is about baking cookies. But more than anything, it is about sacred companionship. My prayer is that as you hustle about this holiday season, you will find the space in each activity to engage in dialogue. Dialogue even is possible on zoom, FYI.

Day 20: Sacred Companionship

I have a secret.

If an alien from Mars popped down and observed Cookie Day – she might think Cookie Day is all about making cookies. This is not true. One of the yummy by-products of Cookie Day is dozens and dozens of cookies. We bring them to our NorthStar Christmas Brunch, we share them with our neighbors, we eat them with every holiday meal. (There was even one year, when the activities got so out of hand that I actually served them for dinner!)

But the real reason for Cookie Day is about gift giving (and I am not talking about cookies): the gift of dialogue. Years ago, Jean and I discovered that it was hard to not lose heart and grow weary and faint over the holiday season. Some years, the weight of expectation lay heavy across our maternal shoulders. (Finding the perfect Cabbage Patch Doll is one example.) Other Christmas holidays showed up during times of great suffering and loss, causing the sound of holiday jingles to fray our every last nerve. We learned that taking a day to make cookies was one way we could hit a pause button and remind each other of our sacred obligation to be a blessing to others.

“Dialogue involves shared inquiry designed to increase the awareness and understanding of all parties. In dialogue the intent is exploration, discovery and insight. In dialogue I attempt to share how I experience the world and seek to understand how you do so. In this process each participant touches and is touched by others. This results in each person’s being changed. In dialogue I meet you as a person, not an object.“

Sacred Companions, by David Benner, p.55

Yes, Cookie Day is about baking cookies. But more than anything, it is about sacred companionship. My prayer is that as you hustle about this holiday season, you will find the space in each activity to engage in dialogue. Dialogue even is possible on zoom, FYI.