This video is so well done...and so sad. It interviews people from different generations about what they did for fun as a child. I don't want to spoil it for you because it's really worth watching, but you can probably guess what some of the answers were for today's children.
As a parent, sometimes I think that this technology craze is just a part of our children's generation. It's not realistic to think that every generation will look like the one before. What my children experience is different than what I did, and different than my parents, and my grandparents.
Every generation has different challenges and different access to resources, information, and entertainment, both positive and negative. But it's also true that every prior generation has a responsibility to pass on the best parts of themselves to the next, to share the blessings that they know, and to make sure certain values are instilled and carried on.
As we struggle to find the balance that technology should have in our everyday lives, in our homes, and in the impressionable minds of children, maybe we would do well to go back to what we know -- that the greatest joys in life are in the simplest activities.
Go on a walk. Build a fort. Toss a ball. Bake cookies. Play with the dog. Talk to each other. Laugh. Go out for ice cream. Imagine.
Imagine how a little human interaction could be the game-changer that has nothing to do with video games but everything to do with passing along the best parts of our own childhood. Imagine.
www.mostwatchedtoday.com/nature-valley-rediscover-nature/ ... See MoreSee Less
My son is a Buddy at Catholic Charities Jacksonville Camp I am Special where a special needs camper is paired with a buddy for a week. He did it last year and when I picked him up at the end of the week he was so different. It's hard to explain how. It's like he emptied himself caring for his camper's every need and it filled him with something holy and pure. He literally radiated God's love.
I know that sounds like crazy-mama talk, but I pour over the pictures of these teenagers doing what I am not even sure I could do myself, and I see the joy of God in every single one of them.
Yes, it's exhausting and it takes them out of their comfort zone and it stretches them in the best possible ways, and yet, what they get in return is so much more than they give.
And did I mention they don't have access to their phones for an entire week?! Yet they still smile!
Miracles. All of it. Miracles. ... See MoreSee Less
Photo
I love the summer. I stay up too late. Sleep in too late. I eat too much watermelon and wear too little makeup.
We are in the thick of the season, or at least the Florida heat is as thick and greasy as the layers of sunscreen I diligently apply so I don’t look like the watermelon I so love to eat. Everyone is hither and yon, in the mountains, at the lake, in camps, and on vacations to places near and far. Other than a few conversations about summer reading, the dreaded school word is kept outside with the pesky mosquitos.
After the July 4th holiday, I start to get a little panicky about summer’s inevitable passing and think of that soap opera, Days of Our Lives, that was popular when smut television was still a novelty. Before an episode of affairs, amnesia, and bizarre afflictions, a prophetic voice would announce, “Like sand in the hourglass, THESE are the days of our lives.”
Whoa. Kind of makes you want to get your act together, doesn’t it?
Actually, it doesn’t. It makes me want to pack up my act like a circus performer who has been on the road too long. It makes me want to enjoy my days. It makes me want to quit planning, forecasting, and fretting. It makes me want to step back from my pursuits and spend more time with my people. It makes me want to let go of all that I can be and just be. Be enough. Be loved. Be unencumbered.
I know mercy doesn’t go with summertime the way a salted margarita does, but if there is ever a season to practice compassion toward oneself, it’s now. Generally, we all have a little more time, a little less stress, and a little more flexibility within our routines. So, use it. Use every single grain in your hourglass this summer. Use it to reflect, rest, and renew. Use it to notice the abundant instead of the overwhelming. Use it like a firefly to emit light in places that have been dark for too long.
Follow the cues of the season and stretch long like a summer day. Let go of the wave of day to day stress and float on whatever calm you can create. Let the balm of mercy protect you from rays of negativity that do nothing but burn us out.
Life is generally hard, and right now, it is certainly hot. Mercy is like a cold glass of lemonade just waiting for you to take a sip and be refreshed. It’s sweet and tart and, while yummy any time of the year, it seems especially so in the summer months when we have a little more time to savor the flavor.
It also goes great with Ella Fitzgerald’s iconic song, Summertime, which lyrics remind us:
One of these mornings you’re gonna rise up singing
And you’ll spread your wings and you’ll take to the sky
It’s a much gentler reminder of life’s brevity than the foreboding voice that warns of sand slipping through the hourglass. But either way, THESE are the days our lives, and at least for right now, if we choose mercy, it’s Summertime and the livin’ is easy.
Make it a day you’ll never regret. ... See MoreSee Less
Photo
A classmate of my 4-year old nephew kept crying at preschool, so my nephew put his arm around him and asked what was wrong. Through tears, the boy told him he missed his mom. My nephew responded, “We all miss our moms, but we have to be here anyway.” With that, the little boy wiped his face, walked up to the teacher and gave her his tissue.
(I know it would have been a cleaner story if the boy just put the tissue in the trash instead of getting the teacher all germy. But I just write the truth however unsanitary it may be. )
The teacher had already tried to comfort the boy, but it was my nephew’s ability to identify with what the child was feeling that finally helped him move on. I think how much this relates to all of us regardless of our age or how we dispose of snotty tissues.
It’s a comfort to know we are not alone. So often, in our sadness, loneliness, and lowliness, we feel like the only ones. Instead of reaching out, we go further inward. Our suffering becomes isolating and that makes us feel worse.
Talking about things takes the sting out. When my nephew told the little boy that everyone misses their moms, surely he felt a little less alone. Sometimes comforting the sorrowful is as simple as letting someone else know that what they feel is okay. Maybe someone’s circumstances are sad, terrible, no-good, and rotten, but to know it’s normal to feel the wretched emotions associated with all that misery is a great comfort. It takes the shame away so you can feel the pain and move on from it.
The whole act of hiding our pain is really idiotic considering the universality of suffering. I should know; I practice this idiocy. I even do it in my relationship with God. When I’m hurting and should be leaning into him, I discount my worthiness by thinking he has bigger problems to deal with. Mine, in the whole scheme I compare things to, is trivial. Yet, we are anything but trite to him. And let’s be real, pain is pain. A four-year-old missing his mom is as real as someone grieving the passing of a loved one or the loss of a relationship. There is no hierarchy to suffering other than the one we assign, often to minimize our own pain to avoid the unpleasantness of it.
I remind myself that Jesus came to live as one of us. He understands our suffering. He experienced it. He endured it. Best of all, he rose above it. The wounds of his human experience: humiliation, betrayal, rejection, loneliness, loss, and fear are no more. Nor are they forgotten. However unique we feel our circumstances are, we are assured that he can identify with our plight.
We never need to feel alone, especially with God. His comfort is there regardless of our willingness to seek it. Comfort that may look like nothing more than a tiny arm wrapped around a friend’s shoulder, yet powerful enough to stop tears.
***
I always find it a comfort to share my sorrow with others even if initially I resist. Do you feel like you tend to reach out or go further inward when you are struggling with something? ... See MoreSee Less
Photo
