When moms embarrass their teens…

First day of school after a long holiday break…first morning, first rising, and first moments into the break of another stretch of school.  How would one expect to greet such a moment?  With ecstaticism, joy, and elation?  Or mope, drudgery, and gripe?  Or instead how about a heart of hope of good things to come?

Sadly, I lacked the heart of hope as I awoke to greet my son with a barrage of inquiries and annoyances…of what he forgot to do or neglected to do. 

Yet, I forgot about the great weekend we enjoyed and that Friday, New Years Eve night.  You see, we punctuated our year with time at Avamere Retirement Home.  The boys had the best performance…ever, over the coarse of the 6 years we’ve served.  Despite Margaret taking her teeth in and out of her mouth and twirling it in the palm of her hand next to him, Jeremy remained laser-focused on the score of the music and continued “without skipping a beat.”  The audience was captivated, engaged, and delighted by these young boys who filled the space with Gershwin, Beethoven, Chopin, Pachabel, Bach, and others.  I was impressed. 

But the Mom’s morning greeting reflected the mood of the Monday with drudgery and pessimism. 

“Did you get your chore done last night?”  “And what about vacuuming the foyer?” “Jeremy, I told you to pick up your socks…didn’t I?”

Why didn’t I think about saying this instead?...

“Good Morning Jeremy.  We sure did have a great Christmas break.  I hope you have a great start to your day.  When you get back from school, let’s talk about some of the chores we can do…and maybe together.  By the way, I’ll miss you today because I sure did enjoy you at home these last weeks.”

There!  That would have been a better start.  But it didn’t happen that way.  So conviction set in and a mom had to do what a mom had to do.

I packed up the youngers and headed back to the middle school.  Checked in at the front desk and headed for the lunchroom.  Yet even within the sea of teens, I spotted him right away, smack in the center of the lunchroom.  I shuffled over, hesitating for fear of embarrassing this young teen.  You know how teens are and especially with their parents.  Dare they be seen with us? 

But the school secretary encouraged me that mothers were suppose to embarrass their teens and I decided that temporary embarrassment would be trumped by a humble apology.

“What are you doing here?” with a surprise inflection and startled look in his wide eyes.  Not accusatory, just surprised.

I bent close to his ear and held his shoulders firmly yet lovingly and whispered so no one would hear, “I’m sorry about this morning.  Will you forgive me?”

“Forgive you…uh, for what?  But yeah, I guess.” Still startled and wondering.

I handed him a little baggy…inside, two pieces of bite-sized Milky Ways and one fun-sized Million Dollar Bar, left over from Halloween…convinced that sometimes even sugar and sweet can minister to a growing teen.

But also included in the baggy, a little note from mom.

Still holding his shoulders firmly yet lovingly, I gave him a squeeze, kissed his temple, turned and walked away with three littles following close behind.

When he arrived home, I apologized again.  Yet again…

“I’m sorry that I embarrassed you by coming to your school and dropping off treats.  I guess I could’ve waited for you to come home.  Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Yeah, ok.  I forgive you.”  And that was it.

Five minutes later.  “Mom, you actually didn’t embarrass me.  I, uh…(pause, pause) kind of liked it.” 

“You did?” I squeeked, surprised beyond the moon.  “But what about Ryan.  When I said hello to Ryan, (his friend sitting next to him) he seemed embarrassed that I said hello.”

“Yeah, he was, but I wasn’t.  I actually wanted to…err…brag.”  “Yeah, brag.  I wanted to say, hey, look everybody, my mom’s here! Because I was happy to see you!“

He was happy to see me. 

My teenager was happy to see me.

By the way, here’s the note I left in the baggy:

To my son, the one whom I loved the longest, the one whose

birth I anticipated with the greatest of heart and who first

 gave me the title of mother,

‘I have loved you with an everlasting love’ Jeremiah 31:3

I love you dearly, my son.  Love, Mom

So glad I decided to embarrass my son that day. 

For the example of the 12 year old Jesus....

Thanksgiving #36

                 Raising a teen is not the easiest.  Yet with its challenge and hurdles, it has to be one of the most rewarding and blessed times of parenting.  You see the culmination of heart and effort and nurture in the makings of this young boy through his speech and deeds.  Oh, yes, he challenges and bucks and may even gripe a bit here and there, but he is beginning to test his wings.  He wasn't meant for flight on his parents' wings but his own.  Getting from here to there is filled with stretching, growth pains, and sometimes heart ache.

I'm so grateful for the example that Jesus left when he started marking his destiny, his own flight when He was only 12 years old.  At that time, He went to Jerusalem to observe the Passover Feast with His parents, as He did each year prior.  When it was time to leave, He stayed behind.  When Joseph, his earthly father, and Mary, his mother, came back to search for him.  He reminded them that shouldn't He be found in His Father's house.

But isn't Joseph His father?  Of coarse, Jesus in that moment, was marking his departure from his parents, yet still with grace, love, and honor for His parents.  Jesus claimed to be in His Father's house, yet knowing his earthly father to be Joseph.  Joseph and Mary might have been hurt at Jesus' response, but they knew He was beginning His flight for his own ministry on earth.

Just as my son has...

As He stakes out to claim what is his...his own walk, his own story...his own flight...as a mommy I'll commit to continue to stand beside and beneath him.  But now, he must go before me...

He's taking flight.  I'll love him all the while.  I'm grateful for the example our Lord left us to encourage hope during this time of parenting.

For Sweet Darlin' D...

Thanksgiving #27

                  Seven turns around the sun today (and this last one flew like a breath) when they laid my darlin' baby D in my arms.  I really think that he came out smiling, and he's been beaming ever since.  He chose Millers, the restaurant with the windmill and covered wagon, as our breakfast house. It's always got to be unique and memorable with Daniel.  The boys ate cinnamon rolls and bacon...argh...but the sweet savory taste ministered to them like you wouldn't believe.  Then we headed to the theater for some super hero fun with Megamind in Metrocity, toy shopping, and "eats" Italian style at Olive Garden.  Punctuated our evening with "Happy Birthday" over cones of ice cream.  He beamed all day as he does most days. I'm grateful for my sweet darlin' D!  Happy birthday Darlin!

Notice the cool covered wagon in the background next to the inoperable but interesting-looking windmill....and the birthday boy, Daniel, with his best buddies - brothers.

Will You Be That One? Our Time with Nick Vuijic

1, 2, 3, 4...he continued to count...5, 6, 7,..each number resonated with the step of his one “foot”...8, 9, 10...jump to the last with a thump...12!   Yes, 12...that’s how many kids teased him that day.  27 year old Nick Vujicic stood strong and “tall” today as he told of his story in front of about 400 kids most, if not all, taller than him.  He was only 6 years old at the time when they surrounded him.  These 12 kids saw one starkly different from themselves and their base reaction could only muster “teasing”.  I glanced down at my own sweet 6 year old Daniel and shuddered at the thought of him being teased by just one, let alone TWELVE.  You can imagine how someone like Nick...actually, no one can imagine because you have nothing to compare to.  You see, Nick...amazing Nick Vujicic was born without arms...no, medical reason for it...not even stumps where arms might have been.  Oh yeah, Nick was also born without feet...and without the calves that go to feet, nor thighs.  In fact, he was born without both legs but was blessed with half of what may have been his foot...had he been born with one.  And, there Nick stood...strong and “tall” with the might of only his torso to brace himself and the might of HIS strength.  Oh, yes, if you didn’t know Nick before, after his beautiful message, you would have known without a doubt, how he braced himself upon the strength of...whose might?  Oh, only His Creator, Elohim...Mighty God, El Elyon!

Beautiful Nick Vujicic spoke truth with triumph to a room full of tweens and teens.  I’m not sure what they expected but even after seeing him numerous times on You Tube videos and even a short film, I certainly didn’t expect to hear nor feel what I experienced today.

Kids and I arrived running behind the stroller and me crying out, “Hurry up, we’re late”  We were actually 35 minutes early, but I guess I’m always calling out that cadence out of habit.  This time was special though.  I don’t know if it was out of habit or just stemmed from sheer excitement and wanting good seats.  But even in the anticipation of what we were about to hear and who we were about to meet, I gathered the kids to the side before we entered the doors...to pray.  I prayed as I pray before any “big deal” that God might bless our encounter...that God’s voice would be heard through the speaker...that the speaker would voice that which God’s prompts...and that hearts would be stirred.  But this time I prayed for sweet Nick and that God would bless him with a wife...I have no idea where that came from.  It just came.  That God would bless him with a wife and with a marriage that would reflect and bless God back.  

Relaxed and poised, Nick broke the ice with  stories of his most hilarious pranks.  I caught glimpses of my children’s smiles and delight.  Nick, my kind of guy, loves a good prank...no, I didn’t say teasing or coarse joking.  There’s a difference...more on this later.  One little kid shocked at the sight of Nick, remarked to him, “Oh, man, what happened to you?”  In a sly, scratchy, screetchy voice, Nick squeeked, “Cigarettes, cigarettes”  The kid shocked, probably never touched a cigarette ever.  

Bored and in search of good laugh, Nick convinced some of his friends to hide him in the overhead baggage compartment during a flight.  You can imagine the shock on the passenger’s face when he discovered half a human tucked within baggage.

Ok, joking aside...Nick then got a bit serious and his countenance changed.  You remember the teasing on the playground...the TWELVE.  Fast forward, Nick turns 10 years old.  Faced with despair and depression, Nick sought to commit suicide.  He was 10 years old.  Teasing...there is no place for that in God’s kingdom.  I love the way Nick spoke to this and how he shared this with the tweens and the teens in a language they understood and a visual they could see.  How often does this happen in school, on the playground, or anywhere there is flesh....or two or more are gathered?

Yes, where two or more gathered...consider it yet instead in HIS name...for where two or more, there HE is.  Nick shared an alternative to teasing.  Consider encouragement.  That day when the TWELVE gathered around, Nick left with head hung low and longing to never see another...again...until he saw a young friend from across the school yard.  She ran to him and delighted, “My Nick, you look good today!”  You know what that One remark did...it captured his attention...spoke courage into the courageless...and is reflected back over and over again when he speaks as an example of what ONE can inspire.

Will you be that ONE to inspire?  Nick is...and he doesn’t have the two arms you have...the two legs you have... That ONE broke down the TWELVE.  And today, Nick at 27 years old, has been to over 35 countries (Nick, if I have that number off, forgive me)...point is...all over the world...to speak to thousands over tens of thousands of people...across  races, nations, and customs. 

That you will be that ONE, you must lean on the ONE...God Himself.  And then Nick called for those who wanted to give their lives to the ONE and make a difference?  A few stood up, then a few more...then they came up in hordes and droves.  They filled the spaces down the center aisle.  I stepped outside to watch my squiggily, wiggily toddler and was amazed at all these young people willing to give their lives when they had the “rest of their lives”.  Then, did I see right?...in the back, down the center aisle...there he was...knees to the floor and head bowed in reverence...my son, Jeremy.

Will you be that ONE?  Thank you Nick Vujicic for being One to speak into the lives of many, for allowing God to voice through your mouth, for being an instrument greatly used of HIM.  He closed with encouragement and somewhere in there shared a hope that God might bless him with a wife.  Oh yes, Nick that God might bless you with a wife...to love and to hold...not with arms but with heart...as you do your God!

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and all your strength.”   Mark 12:30

Life without limbs but not without limits.  http://www.lifewithoutlimbs.org/

Bible and Me

Half past six in the dawn of the day, sweet husband packed up our brood of little ones and not so little ones and piled them generously into the Suburban yesterday morning.  Off they went, to walk the mall with the Grands...this time with Grandpapa and Grandmaman.  Couldn’t believe so early, bright eyed, cheerful spirits, and without complaint or grumble.  Still in my pj’s, I kissed them off and snuggled back into my "Read."

Imagine…Bible and me…and silence and solitude…quiet and calm.  I had forgotten the smell and taste of it, but remembered how much I loved it… a luxury enjoyed sparingly…solitude.

Crash, bump, thump… “Mama, we’re home!!”  Broken silence… the brood was back.

Husband kissed me tenderly on the forehead, squeezed next to me, and sweetly asked, “Did you miss us?”

Is it bad I responded “It wasn’t long enough.”…and kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

Where time stands still

To punctuate the Memorial Day weekend with something memorable, Team Lenc spent time in a place where time actually stands still… Skate World Hillsboro!  As certain as the breath we breathe, is the passing of time.  But not so here where retro colors, neon signs, and shag carpeting… on floor and walls are flourishing all except the passage of time.  Yes, the food stand still serves nasty, cheesy nachos, you know the kind that drips from a rusty spicket.  Carnival food such as corndogs and cardboard pepperoni pizza are the featured menu with ropes of red licorce , barrels of barforama beef jerkey, and putrid pails of popcorn as sides.  Obviously, the menu was not the major attraction.

Neon and black lights glared the back of the rink and 80’s music blared through out.  And I wouldn’t be surprised if the soundtracks were cassette tapes and records… my children have never heard of such things.

My neighbor told me it was like riding a bike… where riding a bike is like, well, riding a bike.   Biking - you just do.  Skating…not so much.  The boys spent the first hour more on the floor than standing upright.  Jean-Marc and I inched alongside Samuel and Daniel, and Jeremy skoot-hobbled alone nearby.  Gabriel played gleefully with the Grands (Grandpa and Grandma) without skates, of coarse.  And, I silently wondered if my grand plan wasn’t as grand after all.  But after the first hour, I realized something noble about my boys.  After every fall, they would scramble back up, brush themselves off, and with an extra measure of resolve, push forward.  They never once cried or complained.  I didn’t say they weren’t frustrated because they were.  I certainly would be, considering the amount of time they spent wiping the floor with their bums.  But they were determined.  Ahh… perseverance!

And, into the second hour (couldn’t believe we lasted that long) before the very last song of the night, the MC makes an astonishing announcement.  “This is dedicated to Jenni for 25 years of memories.”   I smiled at husband, and he gently held my hand… just like he did many decades ago.  We left the boys to hobble on their own, and together Jean-Marc and I attempted to recapture our youth.  I even blushed again, just as I did back then.  Never mind the song he dedicated…”I’m too sexy …on the catwalk” It was still sweet.

Haiti Earthquake Moves Earth and Hearts

It shocked North America…They said close to half a million…people…dead.  On the morning of Tuesday, January 12^th, an earthquake of about 7.0 hit close to the capital city of Port Au Prince in Haiti, one of, if not the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere.  We gathered around the dinner table, gulped down pasta, bread, and salad, and drank our fresh clean water, which we enjoyed plenty.

Struck by the magnitude of this disaster, we gathered around the Mac as we silently viewed images from the wreckage…the many victims buried in rubble, buildings collapsed, one on top of another, and horrible sights of bodies tossed to the side of the roads covered in gravel and debris.  Samaritan’s Purse and World Vision appealed to the international for aid that they might be able to provide relief in blankets, shelter, food, and clean water…which we enjoyed plenty.

 

The boys moved to compassion, disappeared, and as quickly as they had gone they reappeared.  The eldest handed Dad a fresh bill with Andrew Jackson and one with Abraham Lincoln.  Sweet Sam laid his recently acquired Andrew Jackson on the table.  He had just lost a tooth two nights before and freely gave what he had received.  With a triumphant smile and excited gleam, Daniel handed Dad an Alexander Hamilton ($10),  several George Washingtons, loose quarters, and various other coins.  His wad of money amounted to about twenty dollars.  Dad matched the giving and a bit more and together the family’s meager offering of $250 to Samaritan’s Purse.  What you did for the least of these, you did for Me.  It wasn’t much, and may or may not make much difference in the grand scheme of the recovery efforts, but it made much to their hearts: Jeremy, Samuel, and Daniel. 

 

They beamed when they went to bed.  And we prayed that night for others other than ourselves.  That our attitude might be the same as Christ Jesus.  That we might consider others over ourselves.  That He might be glorified.

Baby Dedication - Gabriel Moses

Dedication...Commitment... Submitting of our wills in raising our child not our way but in God’s way by God’s Word.  May 9, 2010, Mother’s Day, we had the great honor of dedicating Gabriel Moses unto the Lord... in front of our church family as led by our dear Pastor Bill Towne.  A public ceremony that promises, with many as our witness, to guide and nurture our son to walk in His ways; obey His commands, laws, and decrees; and hold fast to Him all the days of his life.  What an even more meaningful ceremony to share it with the day all mothers across the country are remembered for what they are... mother.

I was mother before he came... for he is our fourth and quite possibly our last.  But it seemed like I truly waited all my life for this certain little one.  With anguish in wait and endurance in prayer and tears, I can’t even put into words the incredible joy that gushed from my entire being when I first laid eyes on him.  Every fiber in my body screamed elation when he made his first debut.  

So you see how easily I could  claim him as all mine, but it is this Dedication Ceremony that announces and promises the complete opposite... to dedicate HIM to the very one who gave and sustains his every breath and is truly His.  I love Gabriel Moses and it is because of that depth of love, I’m willing to give him back to the One greater than me and able to love him more deeply than me.  Into your hands, dear Father, Abba, we promise to raise our precious son because he truly is yours and back to you we pray he will remain all the days of his life, that he glorify you with his entire being. 

May 9, 2010, Mother’s Day... the day we dedicated Gabriel Moses unto the Lord.

The most noblest of all titles...

It brings one of the highest joys and the deepest pains... to love a little spirit that found its birth in you.... I guess you can say an extension of yourself... you catch a glimpse of your smile, your expressions, and your face in theirs.  It doesn’t matter what your vocation, profession, or work you pursue, the most holy and honorable titles you will ever hold in your entire life is that of “mother.”  It is the most noble of all stations you will have the privilege of serving.  I pray I serve it well although it will never cease and I will always be until I take my last breath.  But from the moment it began, I knew it would never end... it would just move into different seasons... the most noble role of “mother.”

The first time I engaged with that title of “mother” I dreamt of romantic journeys exempt of challenge, trial, and definitely not tears.  But through it I have cried not buckets, nor vats, but oceans.  The first brought illness, pain, and suffering, as did each consecutive pregnancy.  Recovery was always slow and arduous, but you know, the crazy thing about it is that I’d do it again... over and over... for them.  

But the physical pain is not the greatest sting of it all... oh, its the umbilical cord.  From the moment it’s severed, you spend the rest of your days doing just that... letting go what you brought in.  And, it becomes even more real when they hit right about where my eldest has arrived.  And all I want to do right now is hold on to the very one I’m suppose to let go... it’s my job... to “mother” him go.  But, even with that sting, I’d do this journey over and over.  So, blessed day to the very ones that gave me this noble title in the first place.

Happy Mother’s Day

Luke's joy in heaven

I didn't know how to tell them... to tell them that the very thing we have been so fervently praying for all week, every night and throughout the day was answered in Godly silence.  Today exactly one week from the time we have been praying, Luke Jensen, 9 years old, died of leukemia; his 3rd bout in this battle.  One week ago, we got the call to pray for this sweet boy, about the same age as our Sweet Sam and one whom we've never met but already loved. The petition included the fear that Luke would die in one week and that we would petition his life be extended.  With round the clock prayer, pleas, and frequent updates, we prayed... with hope, of course.  Each of the boys, Jeremy, Samuel, and Daniel (Gabriel is still too young to speak), took their turns in lifting up our dear friend.  Needless to say, Jeremy (almost 13 years old) has been racked with unrest and worry over this ailing child.  It has stretched his faith to believe God's mercy and well, His love.  So, when this evening came and we drew in the prayer circle, as we do each night, I wondered how to tell them, especially our first born.  Dad led prayer, as he most often does, and with grace and slower cadence in speech, he thanked God that Luke was now rejoicing in heaven.  It's one of those moments, you can't help but draw closer to Him because everything else won't give you anything you need, especially answers.  And the promise is that you draw near to Him, He will draw near to you. (James 4:8)  We closed prayer with tears but tomorrow we'll rejoice in Luke's joy in heaven.

Luke Jensen

November 28, 2000 - May 6, 2010

The power of three small words

Power in three little words...

“WOW...what time is it?” wondered Mom. Peering around the corner, “It’s almost 11:00 (that’s p.m.) “We’ve been talking for more than an hour, Mom...it seemed like minutes!” exclaimed still wide-awake, almost teen Jeremy.

We spoke of many things that night...how to encourage others...”Son, if you are blessed with an opportunity to encourage others...to inspire and speak courage into them...and pass up that honored opportunity, you are sinning against God.” “Yes, you must do what the Lord prompts you to do, son.”

“Yeah, mom, like when I encourage Brooks on my basketball team when he makes a shot or gets the rebound.” “Yes, when you encourage Brooks.”

We spoke of praying...”Raise your cares and concerns to God, but then intercede for others. Offer to pray for others and then follow through and do just that.” “Recognize answered prayers and praise Him for His mercy and give Him glory!” “Jeremy, I have a journal full of prayers...many of them answered and many of them still waiting to be.” “As long as we are on this side of heaven, God answers prayers through Godly miracles and sometimes through Godly silence.” “But each one passes through His merciful and compassionate hands.” “Seek His answers and you will find.”

“Like when I pray for Daddy’s back and for my Fusion friends.” “And, when I pray for what my future will be like and I’m still waiting...” “Yes, Jeremy, like that.”

We spoke of modeling and setting example for others to follow...for his brothers to watch. He seemed to sit more upright when we spoke of his very important position as ‘first born”...as if he knew it God-ordained.

When mom and son realized the lateness of the hour, both realized the joy of each other’s company. The time was a breath in the presence of delight. I had delighted in his company and the next words out of my mouth, whispered “I like you”.

“You like me?” he questioned. “Who are you trying to be mom?” “No, Son, I really, really like you. Oh yes, you know I love you, and I say it often, in fact. But I want you to know Jeremy...I really like you. I enjoy the presence of your company. I delight in you!”

Did he say, “I like you” back? I love you, mom? You’re the best mom? Boy, I’m glad you’re my mom? I like being with you too, mom?

No...his eyes filled with tears, embraced me tight, and kissed my check and... in that, he said all those things.

The power of three words...I like you.

March 7, 2010