Courage and my 4 year old

(Mandatory yet unrelated update: we think I have Adrenal Fatigue Syndrome. Boo Hiss. Might be more on that in a future post. Maybe not though. We'll see.;-) )

Every summer and family vacation...well, any chance we can get...our family gets in the water. We also feel that "real" swimming is a valuable gift to give to our children, not to mention a HUGE safety issue. Elasia is old enough (turning 5 in a few weeks) and we found a class that was 8 sessions long with an opening down on 14th street at a very nice YMCA and took the jump financially.

And that's how Elasia began swim classes.

This was her first time taking "real" classes. She qualified for the class where I don't have to get in the pool with her (which was wonderful, because what would I have done with my little monkey a.k.a. Zaqarah? I'm sure the YMCA staff would've had to call 911 within the first 10 minutes of class because she had managed to slip away and gotten herself stuck on the roof. I'm sure of it.) Elasia is very cautious by nature, and has never been in a pool with out us. I was pretty apprehensive leaving my little scrawny green bean alone with a handful of kids and 1 instructor.

I watched from the nearby giant window.  The whole class lined up by the side of the pool. It was then I realized that the odds were stacked against Elasia being able to get through this class with out a royal "freak out".

1. Everyone was older than her.
2. Everyone had taken swim classes together last season at this same YMCA and knew each other. Elasia didn't know any of them and this was the first time she stepped foot in this building.
2. She was the only girl.
3. The kind lady she thought was the instructor went into the office. A man she didn't know jumped in the pool and motioned for the children to get into the pool one at a time.

I saw her legs tremble.  I saw her wring her hands. She looked up, bottom lip trembling, to where she knew I was watching, looking for some kind of reassurance from me. I waved, gave her a thumbs up and a smile. (Truth: it took EVERYTHING in me to not crash through that glass, run across the pool deck and scoop my little girl in my arms and tell her we'll wait 'til next year.)  I had to steel myself and see what she would choose.

And then it happened.  She took a deep breath, knees still knocking, wrinkled her little nose with determination and willed her body to sit at the edge of the pool.  Every other kid slid right into the pool, as if they had the process memorized. They held on to the side of the pool and started kicking. 

I watched her wipe a tear that had snuck out of her eyes and down her cheek. Her nose still wrinkled in resolve, she looked up again and smiled at me. (smiled?! I still can't believe it.)

She tentatively slid into the pool and held on to the side and....... began her kicking.

With the other moms and their "been there, done that" expressions, I knew I couldn't really just scream with joy right there. But I really could've flown to the moon and back!!  I had just watched one of the most courageous people I've ever known make a really brave choice!!!  I know my little girl. I know what situations are difficult for her, and those same situations might not even be an issue for her little sister - or even anyone else.

Because of things we couldn't have known or foreseen, this swim class was set up to be one of the single most difficult things for Elasia specifically.  And she was brave. She chose to look her fear, her discomfort, her insecurity...all of it in the face...and she chose to go through with it. 

Now, would it have been okay if she had a melt down at the side of the pool, crumpled up in sobs and I had to sit with her in the lounge until she calmed down. Yes. (because she IS only 4, people.) I would've been set back a large chunk of change, as the classes are non-refundable, but I wouldn't set my daughter up for unnecessary torture. And of course, I wouldn't have shamed her. I would have been disappointed, but I'd have understood. I know life is going to present so many more of these same moments. I honestly would have been okay with "no way, Mommy" on this one.

But she chose to be brave. And her little determined, tear-streaked face is etched in my memory as a permanent book mark...a reminder.... for me to make similar choices.

When I'm tired and frustrated and it is easier to scream, yell and demean my children - I must choose to be brave, and be their hero. To lay down my own emotions to help them through the tricky paths of childhood.

When I'm intimidated by potential for failure, I've got to choose to be brave and take risks.

When I'm afraid of the consequences that my choices may have on the relationships I hold so dear, I need to be brave, to choose honesty and transparency - to live with integrity, as this is the only way to true intimacy.

 

I learn so much from my precious Elasia Hope.  From her sensitivity to others feelings, her care for the overlooked, her quick wit and intelligence...my list could be a mile long. (And she's only turning 5!)  But what I needed and what I've learned from her these past few weeks going to swim class is:

It's possible to choose courage, even if you don't "feel" it. (and if you cry when your scared, it's okay.)

can I introduce you to.....?

So we leave this Saturday for our much anticipated vacation to Costa Rica!! Life's been a bit of a whirlwind (hence the lack of the regular posts), but I can assure you we are all A-okay.

I wanted to introduce anyone who may read this blog to a dear friend and hero of mine. Her little family's story is incredible and their courage/humility is breathtaking.

Please, oh PRETTY please take a moment to meet the fabulous Lester Family.

We really can be a part of the change we want to see in the world. It just takes courage. And so does Motherhood.

We. Can. Do. This.

To have Faith or not to have Faith

So I was having a conversation with a friend of mine who is very sure that faith is something for people who's personalities lean toward that - people who are naturally inclined to "religion" etc. She concluded that she, being more rational, was not the "type" of person to have faith. I didn't want to say anything too quickly (ah lessons I've learned the hard way - and am still learning), so I told her, after laughing at her, that I'd get back to her with a real answer.

So in this quiet moment, I've been trying to think about what I should say. Well, not so much what I should say that would make me right, but what does she need. Mother Teresa had such a nack for that, you know? Sometimes she didn't answer questions directly, but what she did say profoundly impacted her interviewer and their life was changed. Now, why did she have to go and die on me, eh?

I just remembered one of my favorite commentators on faith, C.S. Lewis, and if you can bear with a long-ish excerpt from his fabulous book Mere Christianity I think we can find some gold here.

(When referring to his old view of faith) "I was assuming that if the human mind once accepts a thing as true it will automatically go on regarding it as true, until some real reason for reconsidering it turns up. In fact, I was assuming that the human mind is completely ruled by reason. But that is not so. For example, my reason is perfectly convinced by good evidence that anaesthetics do not smother me and that properly trained surgeons do not start operating until I am unconscious. But that does not alter the fact that when they have me down on the table and clap their horrible mask over my face, a mere childish panic begins inside of me. I start thinking I am going to choke amd I am afraid they will start cutting me up before I am properly under. In other words, I lose my faith in anaesthetics. It is not reason that is taking away my faith: on the contrary, my faith is based on reason. It is my imagination and emotions. The battle is between faith and reason on one side and emotion and imagination on the other.

....or take a boy learning to swim. His reason knows perfectly well that an unsupported human body will not necessarily sink in water: he has seen dozens of people float and swim. But the whole question is whether he will be able to go on believing this when the instructor takes away his hand and leaves him unsupported in the water - or whether he will suddenly cease to believe it and get in a fright and go down.

That's the ticket. Faith is deciding to believe what you KNOW to be true, even when my wishy-washy emotions begin to doubt. I have moments when I feel so utterly "less" than I need to be as a wife, mother, friend...the list goes on and on. But I KNOW to be true that God has given me "everything [I] need for life and godliness". Faith is the decision to believe that and to view my world through those lenses. And, you know, I start to act differently then. My decisions, laced with a confidence that comes from a source outside of me, end up being the "right" ones. It's people who have removed themselves from their humanity, who have summed up their lives to a science, that see faith as "brainwashing". I know my fraility too well to not have faith. It's those who want to live by what they KNOW is true and not just by what they "feel" who are rational enough live by faith.

Okay. Next post will most likely not be so deep. I think Adam has run out of distractions with Elasia, and I should be getting her to bed anyway. bye.