Childhood Poets
regardless of the quality of the results.
My oldest son enjoys writing poetry. Perhaps I’m biased, but I think he’s quite skilled. Some of his poems miss the mark, but some are objectively quite good.
Age
It may be a number
but actually it is a
blank page
on which
to orchestrate
your purpose.
Turtle
Turtle looks
from its shell-covered perch
at the pond, seeming to search.
Its eyes follow the little ripples
to the bank where the ducks lurch
to each the underwater turf
while the robin nests in a birch.
Now the day is over, the sun is done,
the lightning bugs have begun their brunch.
When I was his age, I also wrote poetry. I was very proud of one particular piece, which I dreamed of one day publishing. That day is now. I present to you my childhood masterpiece:
Dot, Speck, Thing, Place They all are nouns in outerspace. They wander and wander and never are done. They're called the nine planets that circle the sun.
I am envisioning your awe-struck applause right now and can assure you that it fills my heart with great joy (sarcasm intended). I am also envisioning you counting the planets and wondering where I came up with nine. If that is you, I am older than you. Pluto used to be a planet…
Mom Fail
This brings me to the reason for this post (about time!). One night, oldest was on one of his periodic poetry-writing kicks. I read the first two of his recent masterpieces about an hour before he went to bed and we discussed the imagery, themes, and our favorite parts. Then, just as I was tucking him in, he handed me his journal. I figured he was just asking me to put the journal on his shelf (he looked pretty wiped). Without looking at it, I closed the journal and remarked that I was thrilled he was writing and asked him to remind me to read the new poems the next morning.
Big mistake.
Unfortunately, I missed the bolded note at the top of the journal page: “Please read this so you know how I feel. Can we have some talk time tomorrow?–I NEED it.”
Well, since I missed the note, the talk time never happened. As the week progressed and the days blurred together, my son grew increasingly withdrawn and angry. The reasons for his upset only appeared on the surface–going to the pool instead of his preferred choice of watching a movie, not having enough money saved up to buy something… I knew there was something deeper underlying his emotional turmoil, but even he had forgotten the root cause at that point–he just felt it deep within him: the conviction “I don’t matter.”
Never Upset for the Reason You Think
Though I’m not the best mom on the planet, I’m not terrible either. I know that 9 times out of 10, my sons are not upset for the reasons they claim. Underneath the immediate crisis is a deep-seated cry, “I’m alone,” “No one cares,” or “I’m not enough.” And, on a good parenting day, it is that deep need that I tease out in our coversation and then do my best to address.
With my oldest, we can pretty quickly get to the root of what is bothering him. Conveying the love that an 11 year old boy needs is the hard part.
With my youngest (8), it’s a little harder to read between the lines. Often, he doesn’t even know the deep “why” behind his sadness or anger. Despite my best efforts to help him search within for the deeper hurt, he can’t find it. The closest we can get is his vague description of “a weird feeling”.
Luckily, I’ve had a few more trips around the sun than he has. I know the empty “weird” feeling. I know he’s missing God’s love–the love that I, for now, am a conduit of. I’ll invite him to pick a book and we will cuddle up and read. Often the story turns into a heart opening conversation, but almost always it turns into me lying next to him as he falls asleep, whispering the words “I love you. You matter to me. I’m so glad you’re in my life”.
Somehow, as sleep causes his eyes to close, the “weird feeling” fades away.
Feeding Our Own Inner Child
“You matter; I love you.” These are the words every child needs to hear from those who love them. Yet, we can’t speak these words until we know the same truth for ourselves. We can’t give what we don’t have.
For a child to hear the message “I am loved” from us, we must live the message, not just speak it. When we “live” from a place of knowing that we ourselves matter, the message is automatically passed on to our children.
My folks regularly told me they loved me. They also showed me through their actions. I never doubted that they cared for me. Though they weren’t perfect (a lot of that going around), they laid a firm foundation on which I could build my understanding of my worth in God. Their words mattered. Yet, it was the witness of both my parents, their living from knowing their own worth, that spoke most strongly to me.
The logic that reached me on a subconscious level was clear: If God loved my parents that much, then I must matter to God as well. As a result, my inner child grew hungry to taste the love of God first hand.
Going Deeper
Parents can only take children so far on the journey. Eventually, when a child grows up to become a parent themselves, they must bring their inner child to the Eternal Father.
For our own good and for the good of our children, we are called to go deeper and seek our worth in the only place it can be found–the heart of God.
Kid Problem/Parent Problem
Seeking our worth in God is something easier said than done. Let’s have a moment of brutal honesty:
Yes, we’ve been told that God is the only thing that can satisfy our hungry hearts. Yet, instead of running into the arms of our heavenly Father, we instead fill that inner emptiness with a thousand other things. We look for that sense of worth in romantic relationships, jobs, money, fame, and even in our relationships with our own little ones. This is a futile search. NOTHING can bring true happiness and lasting peace, NOTHING can fill the gaping hole within us but God.
And yet we still go on our futile searches and quests. When those quests fail, we gripe, groan and complain about our lives. The car broke down, the wife is being a pain in the rear, the kids won’t behave, the boss is making life miserable, traffic is a nightmare…
Why in God’s name did we think we could find happiness in the car, the wife, the kids, the job, etc. to begin with? The world will ALWAYS fail us. It’s supposed to.
We are never upset for the reason we think.
Just like our own children, any “surface gripe” we have boils down to one and only one deep problem. Our heart hurts. On some level, we feel separate from God. And that is a problem that only God can fix.
Living Water
Our souls are in desparate need of living water. We have NO CHANCE of giving our children the love they are so deserving of if we don’t have it within ourselves.
Jesus Himself is the stream, the source of this living water.
“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”
John 7:37-38 NIV
How do we drink from this stream? Jesus urges us to come to God in prayer, to ask, seek, and knock for anything we need from God the Father. But in order to receive this gift, we must also be willing to listen, we must be willing to linger.
Prayer is how to talk to God (if you’re reading this post, you’re probably well-versed in the practice of prayer). But prayer is only half of the conversation. We must also learn to listen to God; we must learn to quiet ourselves inwardly and open ourselves to God’s voice.
God’s quiet voice never fails to speak truth and love to our souls in answer to a genuine, heartfelt request. The ever-flowing love of God within the silence of our hearts is the stream of living water that never fails.
Once we have gone to the eternal well, we can become the temporary well of living water that our children must draw from. And, as they mature, we are their first teachers. We show them how to drink from the streams of living water that can provide lasting fulfillment.
Can’t Buy Me Love
Even when our hearts are filled to overflowing, the expression of our love can be misguided. In this modern era of quick convenience and fast-paced living, we try to buy/win our children’s love–large and exciting presents perhaps, the latest video games, or a packed schedule filled with their favorite activities. And, for parents who doubt their own worth in the eyes of God, these signs of care do help to bridge the gap for some kids.
My mom taught piano and flute lessons every afternoon for years to make the money needed so that I could attend my (very expensive) dance classes. I was an only child. Presents COVERED the floor next to the tree on Christmas morning. Yes, these were signs of love…and yet…
Driving to the Dump
My favorite memories of my dad were driving with him to the landfill in his pickup truck, singing to the radio and talking about his own childhood memories.
My favorite memory of my mom is dancing in the kitchen with her to the Pointer Sisters and laughing together.
Years of memories with my parents, yet the ones that stands out to me cost them $0. I remember very few Christmas gifts and very few dance classes. But I do remember the love in my parents’ eyes as they cherished their time with me.
Pandemic Course Correction
I fell into the same trap as many other parents. When my children were young, I spent far too many hours glued to my phone screen and far too many dollars on things my kids didn’t really need. I gradually weaned myself from my device addiction over the years. When the quarantine of the spring of 2020 hit, God used the “downtime” to correct my understanding of what my kids truly needed.
During the pandemic, we “did” very little. Too afraid of what was then a serious illness, all the “fun destinations” in our county closed. I taught from home. My husband had just left his office job to become an educator, so he too was home. Most days (after the conclusion of virtual work and school) we played in the yard or tossed the ball around in the fields at our local elementary school. On hot afternoons, we’d put on swim trunks, take off our shoes, and wade around in the deeper areas of the streams that wind their way through our community. We had long, silly conversations at dinner. Ultimately, we spent time together.
At no other time were our children more calm, more secure. They KNEW they were loved.
Now, more than 2 years later, when tempted to pack the day or week’s schedule to the brim or take on extra work responsibilities to pay for some fancy vacation, I remember the deep peace that lived in our hearts during a time when NONE of the bells and whistles were available. All our children ever needed was our time and our love.
Be There
Drop everything and play a game of catch in the yard.
Turn on the radio and dance in the house.
Let them fall asleep in your arms.
Tell stories about your childhood and listen to their ridiculous made-up tales or the yearnings of their hearts.
Just be with them, like God is with you. Be love breathing, speaking, and walking in their lives.
Be living water for your children.
Loud and Clear
So, fill your soul to the brim with love and let that love spill over to your children. Let them see it in your eyes and feel it in your smile. Look at them as if they are the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Because they are. Within them resides the very spirit of God.
And every night as they head off to bed, if only in the quiet of your own mind, whisper the words: “You matter. You are loved.” Then, as you turn inward to yourself, allow God to whisper the same words over you.
Let the streams of living water flow.