Little agents of change

I look down at my phone tonight with a slight sense of sadness. You see dear reader, tomorrow I get a new one.  There is this strange bond people have with their phones. Its objectively the most intimate object in your life. It sleeps beside you. It channels your obsessions, your fantasies, your longings. It is the conduite by which you emotionally funnel to and from the world at large. Most people will keep their phone for years and often develop an emotion towards this piece of metal and glass. In my business, the majority of people will exchange their phone showing some kind of emotion. Words like "worst" or "best" are commonly thrown around. Positive or negative, swapping a phone is an emotional experience and I am the agent of that change for many people. 

Change generally is profoundly difficult. It is difficult because we are inherently looking for stability and consistency. Change is inevitable, but we are still surprised by it. Looking at my life, I see markers of change. Moving to Steinbach from Vassar. My Dad dying. Going to school. Getting married etc. 

Suffice to say the lesson of change is difficult. How do I teach this to my children? Of course there is no single answer to that question, but one answer is to be the rock they smash against and are broken. What I mean is that there desire will always be to maintain, but I am required to fight against that and challenge them to excel. This is easily the most difficult thing one can do as a parent. The worst parents I have seen consistently give in to their children and the children learn quickly who holds the power.  The problem is that I am not in my nature their adversary. I am their protector. I am their provider. I am their cheerleader. To teach them to change I have to be their adversary. I have to oppose others who want to shield them and drag them to a place of discomfort. All of this being done from a place of conviction and in unity with their mother. This sentiment stands in opposition to my emotions for them.

Alright, they develop the agency to adapt in the world. Now what? I need to teach them intellectual change. I will use myself as an illustration. I am not left-leaning in my political or social bents. As an individual living in Canada, it is much safer to have left leaning ideals. It is harder to hold convictions that grate against the cultural context. I do not hold to my ideals to be contentious, but as a result of deep contemplation and intellectual conviction. I am not compelled by the emotion of argument, but rather its substance. In my experience, emotions represent instability more than stability in ones own beliefs. I have always enjoyed the quote by Martin Luther 

Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen

Fundamentally, to teach my kids to be agents of change means to fight against dogmatic views. Humanity is comforted by dogma. It is uncomfortable to be challenged and to test the truth of your ideas out to be changed. For my kids, this means that when I see dogma being fed to them (from school or otherwise) I poke a hole. My son relayed a story from his teacher that a kid died by eating too much sugar. I brought my son to me and told him that a healthy person dies for many complex reasons and sometimes simple answers do not always do the best job as explanations. I poked a hole in the simplistic approach of the teacher because I want my son to look past the teacher to the idea. 

 Lastly, I will share a realisation. One of my biggest fears is losing my wife and/or kids. Knowing that death is inevitable means that the possibility always exists to some degree. Yet, I was clearly reminded, thinking about this blog, that loss of this kind can be overcome. Never freed from the burden totally, but not incapacitated by it. The experience of grieving can be analogized as painting a portrait of that person. Our first images are god-like. They radiated with the glow of the sun and we grieve all the more that our universe has lost its sun. If we find reality, we can adjust the picture with time. We temper the glow with their humanity. We add the flaws into the picture and when we have painted it perfectly we hang it on the wall of our soul and that person goes with us. Providing a profound source of strength, comfort, clarity and vulnerability. 

I was comforted in the knowledge that, no matter what happens, I am an agent of change and I will walk through hell one day, but I will make it to the other side because I can change and I can overcome even the worst things life can throw at me. I'm still here after all. I want my children to understand that and to live that fact. Your still here. You made it one more day and if we can find a healthy expression of loss, maybe we can find strength too. If we can embrace hard conversations with other, perhaps we can build empathy for one another. If we can fight the urge to stagnant and move forward, perhaps we'll get to the top of the mountain after all. 

Wounds of the heart

***heavy spiritual language in this post***

So, I was at church with my family listening to the worship music when I felt God speak to me. In the tradition I was raised I was taught thatGod can give you the means of expressing yourself in unusual ways, commonly called “speaking in tounges.” Here I found myself being directed to something similar, but it was writing and it was in English. As the words poured out of me I realized that it was a prayer for my children. As I fell into the emotion of what I was writing. The tears came down and I attempted to resist the discomfort. I realized in that moment that my feelings for my family are like a wound. It is myself totally open and without reservation. I can attend it with bandages to keep it under control, but it is a wound. Touch that spot and you will get my most honest a visceral reactions. Strike it, but if you do then you’ll need to run. There is the expression, “I love them so much it hurts.” This is a feeling to which I clearly make a connection.

Below you will find what I wrote. It is a prayer for my children. The prayer is based on verses Isaiah and Jeremiah, when God decrees judgements. It is a prayer for the reversal of those judgments.

A fathers prayer

Gracious are you God and father of our Lord Jesus Christ. For you transcend  eternity and have sought me and my forebears and my descendants. In a land foreign and alone you have called us by your name. Apart from you I have no good thing. 

Your name reaches far beyond my house. May the power of your name reign over my family. Will you watch over those who bear my name and show them all your Grace. Forgive their sins. Give them eyes to see and ears to hear. Make their hearts soft and supple. Let them see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn and be healed. 

Let the word to my descendants be, “ this is the place of repose, let the weary rest.” Grant them the wisdom to withhold themselves from the foolish. Let them be seekers of wisdom and lovers of peace. Let them choose companions of the spiritual tribes of Israel. Let the work of their hand prosper. 

When the time comes for their discipline, have mercy. Discipline them, as an unruly calf, but heal them that they may return to you. Do not leave them utterly desolate. For you have loved me, love my descendants. For you good oh Lord and your love endures forever.

Amen 

PS- please forgive the formatting and any spelling problems on my blog. I am writing this at the gym.