by Carol Taylor | May 20, 2015 | DRE Blog
Call me sentimental, but I really wanted my son to experience senior prom. It was such a memory for me and seemed like a rite of passage not to be missed. One final hurrah with friends before you head off into young adulthood. So I was disappointed when he initially said, “No, I’m not going to that!” About two weeks later he casually asked my husband and me what the rules were for prom night. Trying not to act too excited that he had actually decided to go, I laid out our expectations.
- As long as we know where you are, you don’t have a curfew. (There were plans to have a big bonfire at someone’s house after leaving prom.)
- Call us if you have been drinking and we will pick you up, no questions asked.
These certainly weren’t the rules when I was growing up and I wonder if that is partly because of my generation, but maybe it was more because I was a young woman. I know that as a young man, my grandfather gave my father the same guidelines about drinking that I gave my son. The expectations for me were much more strict. 11:00 p.m. curfew–no drinking, definitely no after-party.
I suspect that there was a desire to protect me, like I was incapable for standing up for myself or somehow would be taken advantage of by my date. Funny, but the last thing I said to my son before he left for prom was that he was responsible for making sure his date was comfortable and felt safe. I told him that it didn’t matter if the rest of the group was having fun, staying out late or partying, if her rules were different than his, he had to follow those rules.
Upon reflection, I realize I didn’t say these things because I felt like his date couldn’t take care of herself. I can’t imagine my son going out with anyone who wasn’t strong and intelligent. I said these things because it is important to me that my son knows that when we are in relationship with another person, we have a responsibility to ensure they are taken care of, that they feel safe and heard. That is marriage, that is family, that is dating, that is friendship, that is our church.
The connections we make with other human beings are sacred. Connections should be nurtured and respected. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every connection we made with another person was rooted in the sacred act of tending to the needs of the other person? If we could approach each new encounter with curiosity and openness, rather than fear? If we set about the task of building connections in order to really understand and honor the other person, not view their experience through our own lens?
Our world has enough people pushing their ideas on others, expecting them to fall in line and shaming them when they don’t. It isn’t always an easy task to let go of our own agendas in our relationships, old or new. (A point I made above as I secretly wished for my son to attend prom.) As I create connections in my new home, I hope I remember to listen more than I talk, to be curious and open, and to remember the sacred responsibility of being in relationship with another human being. Maybe it can be my new ministry!
by Carol Taylor | May 6, 2015 | DRE Blog
Our home finally went on the market last Friday and consequently we had two showings on Saturday afternoon to prepare for. After scrambling all day Friday to be prepared and then doing more touch-up on Saturday morning, my family was exhausted and wondered what we could do for a whole afternoon with the dogs and ourselves. As fortune would have it, it was a glorious day here in Woodinville, so we decided to pick up a lunch and head to Marymoor Park. My son cautioned us that Marymoor was crazy busy on nice days, but he took one car and we took the other and off we set for 6 hours away from the house.
After a lovely picnic in the park, we decided to try the off-leash park and at least let our large dog Fritz have a romp. As I reflect on that afternoon, the trepidation we had of spending an afternoon entertaining the dogs, ended up as pure joy. Yes the park was busy. Yes there were lots of dogs and people. But everyone was smiling, every dog was in heaven-sniffing, running, splashing in the water, meeting new friends. There was sunshine, laughter, blue herons nesting. I spent lots of time walking, but finally sat on a bench with my little dog, Max, to soak up the sun and just watch.
It’s a funny thing, time. When we were rushing around trying to get the house ready, it didn’t seem like there would be enough time to do everything we needed to do. As I sat at the dog park, time stood still for a while. Six hours didn’t seem long, but it didn’t seem short either. My dogs had water, sunshine, treats. I had water, sunshine, treats. There was nothing to do but be caught up in the activity around me and be present to the sights and sounds of people and their best buddies. Each moment was special because each moment was new and experienced. I wasn’t in my head about what needed to be done or when I needed to be somewhere else. I knew I had time to spend in this place at this moment in time, and it was freeing.
As time slowed, as I focused only on the moment, I noticed I was at peace and relaxed for the first time in a while. I am still recounting the joy that I experienced that afternoon. It was unexpected, born out of necessity and much needed. I think I need to slow down time more often!
by Carol Taylor | Apr 22, 2015 | DRE Blog
The other morning my 17 year old son stated it would be cool to live in one of those tiny houses that are popping up. It didn’t really surprise me. He has always expressed an interest in living simply, providing for himself from the land, being bound up with nature for survival. Sometimes I wonder if there are others his age who are feeling the same need for freedom from our consumer society–youth and young adults who want to escape the marketing ploys and the ‘climb-the-ladder’ mentality of the American way of life. People who want to live with purpose that they determine, not held to a standard of success that is manufactured by a society obsessed with money and power. I know there are people who are already living this lifestyle. What if it became our cultural norm–less stuff, more purpose?
I took notice as I filled my car with items to donate to the rummage sale. Where would I put everything if a tiny house was my living space? What things did I really need? What treasures did I want to hold on to? What would serve my purpose and define success on my terms? What do those words – purpose and success – even mean to me?
From the looks of our sanctuary right now, society-at-large is not ready for this shift. Mounds of items have arrived over the past 3 days, filling the sanctuary and foyer and spilling into the hallways and front porch. It is obvious that some are items that we have outgrown or replaced with the newer version. Some things are just in the way as we redecorate or repurpose a room in our homes. And of course it is better to sell things off than dump stuff in the landfill, especially if they will be used by another family. Yet, each year we have more stuff that gets removed from our homes and donated to charity and many times I hear people comment “I don’t know where it all comes from.”
We know where things come from. We buy them or they are gifts from friends and family. It seems to be a constant battle between more and less. We need this, but wouldn’t it be nice to not have so much stuff to dust, store, insure….And I’m just as guilty as the next person.
The tiny house movement and comments from the younger generations give me hope that there will soon be a paradigm shift where living a life of purpose and service will mean more than accumulating wealth and more stuff. This Earth Day, as I prepare to move to a new home, I am taking time to rethink my needs and wants – to look at the impact my consumption has on the planet. Some people refer to it as simplifying their lives. It sure isn’t simple for me, but I invite you to join me in the journey.
In community,
Carrie Krause
by Carol Taylor | Apr 9, 2015 | DRE Blog
Click here for April, RECOVERY
Recovery. A tough theme for some of us and difficult to talk about in many settings. I have reflected on this theme a lot in the past couple of weeks as I prepared curriculum and the monthly take home cards. There are many kinds of recovery – prolonged recovery from illness, quick recovery from a cold, recovery from abuse, addiction, grief and loss, trauma, the list goes on. Although each type of recovery requires something different of our bodies and minds, at its core I believe it involves doing what is necessary to restore ourselves to wholeness.
In my own journey of recovering from abuse, I have found that the road is often two steps forward, one step back. Or even one step forward, three steps back. I suspect it is so with most recovery. We compensate for whatever has been missing or is hurting by finding substitutes or we develop a scar or a mental block that gets in the way of uncovering our truth. We may feel shame or guilt or ‘less than’ because our body is failing us. We can’t cope with what has happened to us or someone we love. We wrestle with whether we can love someone who abuses us, and whether we are worthy of love if we are being abused.
As we journey through recovery, we search and reflect. We cut ties with family and friends, share our stories, create healthy habits and new healthy relationships along the road. And then, perhaps, we hit a pothole. Something happens that puts us smack dab in the middle of our pain all over again. So we start down the path of recovery again, with fresh eyes and a new appreciation for the journey. And this is what we have to tell ourselves – I am worthy and I am lovable. It is the most important thing you can say to yourself – you are a blessing to this universe and you are loved.
All the anger, fear, grief – those are emotions everyone feels. Everyone is recovering from something. The church community is a place where you can bring the pain and struggle of the journey of recovery so that we can walk beside you. It also is a place to celebrate your return to wholeness and to know you are worthy and loved. For this I am grateful.
In community –
Carrie
by Carol Taylor | Mar 26, 2015 | DRE Blog
I am currently reliving (for the 3rd time) that stressful, exciting, disappointing time of the year as my youngest son awaits news about which colleges have accepted him. Every time I have been through this, I reflect on how much pressure we as a society are putting on our children regarding their journey through life. It often starts with getting them into a good preschool, followed by good grade schools, etc. We hustle them from sports practice to dance or music lessons, or computer programming or scouts, or whatever the new buzz is that is guaranteed to help them succeed.
Don’t misunderstand me, I think that a good education and engaging extracurricular activities are important for children. They teach great skills and offer exposure to many new things. I just don’t see a need to over-schedule a child’s life. A more important question for me is “Am I raising a good citizen who can navigate this world as an adult? Is he resilient, thoughtful, compassionate, engaged? Does he have a good work ethic? Is he grounded emotionally and spiritually?” By my thinking these are the character traits that will help him be successful in his life. These are all things that his chosen community and his family teach and model for him.
All the talk at high school revolves around which college you will attend or what advanced classes are you taking. Even the rhetoric from the adult leaders is centered on college, as if that is the only successful journey you can make. Yes, my son is choosing to go to college, but it isn’t the right choice for everyone. If we look at it from the prospective of our youth who may feel crushed by the weight of societal expectations, can we change our rhetoric? Could our church community be a place where we can nurture the passions of our youth, regardless of outside pressures? A place where the question isn’t “Where are you going to college next year?” Instead we ask, “Tell me about yourself? What is your path? What brings you passion? Do you need support to follow that path?” And we stand there ready to offer that support and a safety net when needed.
Call me sentimental, but I really wanted my son to experience senior prom. It was such a memory for me and seemed like a rite of passage not to be missed. One final hurrah with friends before you head off into young adulthood. So I was disappointed when he initially said, “No, I’m not going to that!” About two weeks later he casually asked my husband and me what the rules were for prom night. Trying not to act too excited that he had actually decided to go, I laid out our expectations.
