Conscious Parenting

This weekend I went to a Bev Bradley women's retreat. I had never heard of her until a few months ago, and when I did, there was a flood of positive praise. "She's so authentic." "She truly shares her heart." "You'll be amazed at how the Spirit speaks through her." So, needless to say, I went with high expectations. I wasn't disappointed. 

I'm not really a charismatic worshiper. I often see people around me during worship at church (and at retreats) with their hands raised, echoing sounds of agreement during prayers. I used to feel uncomfortable, coming from a traditional background, but I've come to realize that we each have different ways of worshiping our Creator. Some of us sit quietly and ponder our relationship with God, while others love to shout their praise from the rooftops (or in a church service). Or some may enjoy both. How boring it would be if we all worshiped the same way! 

Amidst moments of deep connection with the Lord this weekend, I discovered something about myself. I am rarely a conscious parent. I don't think I'm a bad parent, but I tend to "check out" a lot in order to get through my day. "What do you mean?", you may ask. Well, my "unconscious" parenting can manifest itself in a number of ways: 

*Saying "uh-huh" when I really have no clue what my child just said to me.

*Jumping the gun on discipline since I often don't want to sit and listen to a long explanation for behavior.

*Dismissing crying and getting irritated when the kids aren't molding into the little box I've created.

*Spouting off a response quickly when I should pause and ask the Lord to reveal to me what may be the best way to respond to a situation.

These are just a few, and the first three weren't even brought up at the retreat. The last one, though, was one of the most important nuggets of truth I learned over the weekend. 

I also learned that the Lord never shames us, and that if I am hearing those "guilty voices" in my head: "You're going to fail." "You're just like your dad." "Your kids are going to go astray," etc. (which, by the way, I hear all the time) I'm not hearing the voice of my Father in Heaven. That means I'm hearing the voice of my enemy; God's enemy: Satan himself. When I hear those things I need to flee from those lies and run to His truth. By the way, I really don't hear voices. I'm no Schizophrenic, I just don't know a better way of saying what I want to say.

It's a short summary of a truly life-changing realization: I can't parent successfully without continually asking the Lord for wisdom throughout the day. I am a broken person, and if I were to think I can raise whole children on my own, I would be sorely mistaken. And so, I am now a conscious parent. I'm still a work-in-progress, but a conscious work-in-progress, nonetheless. I'll still have the "uh-huh" response sometimes, I'm sure. I'll still be quick to judge my kids' behaviors at times. But I am now consciously attempting to be their mom instead of hurrying through my day, trying to get to bedtime.

Retreat

I looked up the definition of "retreat" online. One of Webster's definitions says: "A period of group withdrawal for prayer, meditation, study, or instruction under a director."

Withdrawal.

That's just what it was. I withdrew from my life for a few days. It was peaceful, relaxing, and more than a little refreshing.

I always underestimate the power of a break from the norm. I do look forward to respite when it approaches, but I seem to always forget just how much I need those pauses in my bustling life.

I laid on a wooden dock in the warm sun over a lake. No children came to ask me questions, or tattle, or request food from my 24-hour restaurant. I didn't have to worry about breakfast, lunch or dinner (or snacks). Someone else worried about it for me.


I ate ice cream mixed with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. And it was divine.

I sat outside during a mandatory time of silence throughout the camp and wrote a letter to the Lord. Not one of the 300 women present spoke. Each person was nestled in her own little spot of tranquility while she paused to just sit. How often do we do that? I don't think I can remember the last time I sat. Quietly.


I admired God's beauty, and marveled at the quaint little place I was in.


I enjoyed all my meals with grown ups (and a sister-in-law I have never before had the privilege of spending an extended period of time with), without having to continually get up to serve other people.

And, most importantly, I learned a few things:

1. I want to learn a new skill each year.
2. I am going to attempt to find gratitude in even the most unappealing circumstances.
3. I'm not invincible. I need breaks!

The speaker was incredible. Real, vulnerable, insightful and funny. My cheeks hurt from laughing at the end of each session.

Ah, retreat.

It's back to real life today, but that's ok. I love my job. I'm thankful for the 24-hour restaurant I operate and for my roles as a mediator, dental hygienist, teacher and maid. It's where I'm at right now, and I'm going to enjoy it.

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's Off to Retreat I Go!

I'm off in 2 hours for a women's retreat up in the foothills! Can't wait, can't wait. Two whole days with no kids! I do love my kids, but boy, is it gonna be nice to have a break! See ya on the flip side!