Change

Some things never change.

One of the weirdest things about moving away and moving back to Maryland (back to our same house in the same neighborhood in the same town) is that even in three short years, we’ve changed.  In some ways, it’s obvious… one set of neighbors did not even recognize our children, (who’ve they’ve seen in the yard since they were babies) and wondered who had moved in.  Jaelin, Eli and Wilo have each grown half a foot in the last three years.   I’ve grown too.  I am no longer a young mom, pushing a stroller to the playground and chilling at the library story time on Thursday mornings. I too, have changed.  I’m working full-time (and loving it), but I’m also worrying about boyfriends and high school grades and who stole the shoes from my closet. 

I always wanted to be a parent – partially because it’s what you do, partially because I saw it as my chance to create and mold something of my own, but I now I find myself surprised that my kids are creating and changing me.  In those first few weeks of parenthood, everyone exclaimed over how little baby Jaelin was, a new life, a 6-lb. malleable being that I would nurture with every word and decision that I made.  It was overwhelming.  I’m a book nerd, so I read everything I could on sleep, feeding, and potty training.  Soon after I had Eli, I had to start relying on less information from other sources and trust my instincts too.   

Now, after 13 years of experience, I know that reading is not the way to learn all the best ways to raise your child.  Even at a few hours old (and maybe even before birth), some aspects of a child’s personality, their strengths and weaknesses, are already set.   The next 18 years are not just about us raising them, but also about them raising us into capable, loving parents.  We have to change and GROW, together dealing with the differences between us.  Just because we are physically responsible for our children (for 18 years at least), doesn’t mean that we can mold them, like play dough, into what we want or think we want in a child.    At some point, those infants become people we chat with and listen to and THEY CHANGE US AS PARENTS.  The sooner we accept that, the better it is for our relationship.  I want them to become independent adults, and as a parent, I want to have loving, honest relationships with my kids. 

Both Kumar and I have changed by being a parent to Eli, our son.  Kumar had to learn all about football, not because he cared about it, but to relate to his sports’ minded son.  We both suffer through Jaelin’s Disney shows, like Backstage, because we don’t like the kids watching too much TV alone.  My parents have also changed by being a big part of my kids’ everyday life.  You haven’t lived (or laughed) until you’ve seen my dad playing Just Dance.  He actually practices while the kids are at school, so he won’t lose (He’s a bit competitive).  My 69-year-old Indian mom text messages and plays basketball with the kids regularly.  We all are well versed with Barbies, water bottle flipping, and crazy clowns.  We are all changing and growing, being pushed and molded by each other’s personalities and interests every day.   

Sometimes it’s slow, and sometimes there is a growth spurt – but I’m learning to consider others’ feelings before my own.  And as I grow as a parent, I grow as a person.  Through my experiences as a parent, I have become a better wife, daughter, friend, teacher, and co-worker. Doctor’s charts can’t measure this growth in adulthood.  I wish they could, cause if you could see me inside, I’m 6 feet tall.

Feeling Human

I’m one of those rare Indian people who actually turn red when I’m embarrassed.  And as a teenager, this was often.  I was an immigrant kid, who just wanted to fit in.  But it’s hard to fit in as a teenager when you coat smells like curry, your parents speak with accents, and you have to explain to all the kids at the Baptist school why you go to church on Saturday (The eighties were not a time of great cultural or religious diversity.  I was a double minority in high school).   

Somehow I didn’t die of embarrassment in my teens, but embarrassment continued to plague me through my 20s and 30s.  There was the time I got my period unexpectedly during step aerobics class, the time I threw up in the cycling studio at Lifetime Fitness, and every tear (sob) that I shed in the parking lot (hallway) when each of my kids went to kindergarten.   As an introvert, I think I feel embarrassment more than my extroverted friends.  It seems like extroverts relish publicity and smile when even their negative moments are on stage. When embarrassing moments come, I sink into a corner and wish the ground would swallow me up. 

I don’t know when it happened, but somehow after having three kids and all of the weird, embarrassing moments that come with that (the nudity required in the hospital alone is enough to make an introvert cringe), but now that I’m in my 40s, I try to lean into my embarrassment, and embrace the shame.  We all have embarrassing moments, and there is no reason that I feel like a loser or a bad parent when I occasionally forget to pick up my youngest at kids’ church, or someone wears two different shoes to the mall.   When I lean into the moments, sometimes I can laugh, or at the very least KNOW that I am not the first (or only) person to experience this feeling of shame.    

The other day, I was at a private doctor’s appt., when a teacher, Ms. K. *, from my new school comes in.  I was cringing (and texting Kumar), wishing I were not seen in this building.  Things got even worse, with a not-so-private exchange in the lobby, and I had to just lean into the conversation, without feeling anger or shame.  When I talked with Kumar later, tears fell, when I told him that I’m not made for these public displays of drama. I cannot prevent or avoid these moments.  They are just a   part of life.   The next morning I went in to work, wondering if I should acknowledge the awkward meeting with Ms. K or just hide in my office. Ms. K ended up dropping by my office, to tell me why she was at the doctor.  It turns out that she didn’t even notice my private/not private exchange because she was so worried about ME seeing HER! 

 Embarrassment and shame are part of all of our worlds.  We worry about what people think of us, when we live in our own heads rather than realize how these human moments and feelings are universal. The struggle, the pain, the mistakes are all part of a greater purpose, the universal experience of being HUMAN.  

*fake initial 

BEAUTY

Its not supposed to be important, but we all think about how we look. At times,  I obsess over how I look – Do these shoes match my outfit?  Do I look fat in this skirt?  Can anyone see that little pimple coming up on my chin?  A little self-care is good.  Sometimes tight pants are a reminder to skip the cookies while watching TV.  But other days, my tight pants affect my mood and my concentration.  When those thoughts swirl round and round my head, and make me scowl in the mirror they are probably not healthy.

A couple of years ago, I had a running buddy who was struggling with her self-image.  She was always asking if she looked fat.  And she wanted an answer.  Everybody’s version of fat is different – obesity can be quantified by the doctor, but every woman I know has a number on the scale, or an roll, or bulge that they see, and decide that they are fat. 

 I told her that when I looked at her I didn’t see her.  It was the truth.  When I first met her, yes, I sized her up – her cute Lululemon outfit, her neon running shoes, stylish haircut and figured out if I could keep up with this gal 10 years younger than me  ( I couldn’t, but she pushed me).  But months later, after sharing some long walks and talks about our lives, when I looked at her, I didn’t see her.  I didn’t see the five pounds she gained or the five pounds she lost.  I saw my beautiful friend, the one who asked me hard questions and sat next to me when I cried, the one who prayed for my ridiculous requests and cheered with me when I told her that we were moving back to Maryland (even though it meant we wouldn’t be running pals anymore).  I didn’t see her as pretty, or beautiful, skinny or fit, I saw her as my true friend. 

So when I’m looking in the mirror these days, and my zipper is straining, I want to be a friend to myself as well.  I’m going to try to clear that scowl off my face, ignore the negative thoughts in my head, and just put on something that feels comfortable and looks good whatever shape I’m in. I have faith that when I’m kind and happy within, I can share those kind words and actions with others who will not notice my lack of waistline, they will see the beauty within.

Sharing and Oversharing

I don’t want to be known as the lady on antidepressants, just like you don’t want to be known as the woman who had an affair, or the woman who watched her mom die.

When I first shared with a friend that I needed to take a happy pill, I had heart palpitations.  I just didn’t want her to see me as broken and judge me as “depressed girl” every time I stressed out.  It’s taken years, but I’ve now shared my struggle with depression with friends, co-workers, two of my kids, and the internet (Uh-oh) because most times its been honestly appropriate and I want to release that stigma that people with mental illness are failing at life.  Some of my friends have not been surprised, but some have been shocked that “happy, party planner, social butterfly Rej” struggles with depression regularly.  Yes, the day that was bad enough for me to seek help changed my life profoundly, but I am more than my worst day.

I got through that worst day (or worst season, since that day affected my week, month, year and life, if I think about it) – and now I have to balance hiding that dark spot in my lives with sharing it so other people can see that it's not the end of their world.  

There is a time and place for both - Sharing our hurts stop the cycle of “My life is awesome” that pervades not just social media, but many tangible places, including church.   There have been many times, I’ve sat in my car and thought, “Look at that family- they have it all, money, a big, clean house, the latest minivan, two beautiful honor roll kids – why am I always struggling? “ There have also been moments in my life, when I have the money, a clean house, the latest minivan, and kids on the honor roll.  Sometimes in those moments, I think, “Yes- I have it all” and other times, I still haven’t been happy.  I’ve lived long enough to know there is always some dark cloud lurking in the corner, some wave that threatens to bring life and all its trouble crashing down.  It’s life – its brutiful  for everyone. 

 We are all struggling.  Sometimes I over share my struggles.  Sometimes I hold back, not because I’m trying to hide, but sometimes I just want your opinion on the dress I’m planning on wearing to the event on Sunday.  It’s a fine line that I’m constantly balancing and sometimes falling.  But I’m working on it. 

What about Halloween?

If you grew up in the North American church, especially in the 70s and 80s, you might have some fear and trepidation at the thought of celebrating Halloween.  When I small, my parents only knew Halloween as an American tradition of dressing up and going house to house asking for candy.  It was as unusual (and pagan) as Christmas tress and Easter eggs.  In their effort to help my brother and I fit into our suburban neighborhood, we participated. Those years gave me many happy memories of peeking into very American homes and meeting people who were different from us.  Because my Halloweens were family-friendly, I continued the tradition with my kids in our neighborhoods, leaving the porch light on and vying for title of “House with the Best Candy”.  I’m so glad to have always lived in neighbourhoods that were centres of Halloween fun and to have always belonged to a church that embraces Halloween as a missional opportunity for our families.

At OAC, my current church, we believe that Oct 31 - Halloween, presents a rare 'evangelistic' opportunity to connect with ones neighbours, where it is acceptable and expected that strangers will open the door, greet each other and give to each other. So we are challenging OACers:  Rather than being known as the curmudgeonly Christians on the block, let's be known for reflecting God's welcome and generous spirit.  When people knock on our door Oct 31, along with the "treats" we are hosting a neighbourhood gathering on Halloween night to share cider and hot chocolate, and get to know each other better.  This was an awesome idea from our church Outreach committee, they are even providing the beverages for free.  I hope our church members will be known as the best neighbours, not just for candy and celebrations, but also as a place to go when others are in need of a friend or a listening ear.  

Other ideas for a family friendly Halloween:

Preschooler – Kids under 5 may not really know much about Halloween, but they do enjoy fall celebrations such as trips to the pumpkin patch and apple picking. Let them dress up for the event, as most kids enjoy dressing up every chance they get.  Since young kids may see “scary” things on TV and at stores, like jack-o-lanterns and spiderwebs, so it’s a good idea to prepare them by telling them that some people like to scare each other during this season.  Remind them that God is bigger than any scary creature we can dream up. 

Elementary School – If there are dress up activities and parties at their school or in their neighborhood, talk to your kids about what the activities will contain and if they fit with your values.  Dressing up, eating candy and visiting with neighbors don’t have to be off-limits, but set guidelines on what kind of costumes are acceptable, how much candy is acceptable and which homes they may visit (neighborhood, friends and family,  or the mall). 

Tween and Youth – Plan to do something age appropriate and fun.  Many kids may be invited to do things your family is not comfortable with, including haunted houses or horror movies.  If your kids have a fun alternative (bowling, trampoline park, or just party at your house), they won’t feel the peer pressure to participate in activities that are not healthy for safe or them.

Whatever you decide to do for Halloween, remember that the most important thing is to talk with your kids about it.  Values are only shared with future generations by constant, open, safe conversations between people who love each other. 

Share the Love...

So the Pope’s visit to the US was big deal last week.  I found myself watching the coverage, not only because he was in places I grew up, but also because everything I can’t help but like him.  As a major religious figure, it’s pretty common for people to have strong opinions about him, but I’m a little sickened by the constant words of skepticism (by Christians) about Pope Francis’ ability to be a genuine man of God.

I say “man of God” just as I would call other Christian men I know, men of God.  To Catholics, the pope is a moral authority and there is a whole hierarchical structure to who has God’s ear.  Protestants do not like the idea of one person holding moral authority on the rest of us.  Whether it’s the pope, our local pastor, or the church member sitting beside, us… we don’t want to be judged.  I think this viewpoint is pretty legitimate.  Although sometimes the Bible does say that we are to call out our brothers and hold them accountable. 

That is what Pope Francis did during his trip to the US.   He called on Congress to think about the environment.  He talked to the UN about working together with other nations, being less selfish with our money and resources.  He’s working for social justice, the same things that many of our churches aspire to do.  Can we acknowledge that on some issues we are on the same side?  

Some are wary of the Pope because of Catholicism’s brutal history.  But if we look deep enough, almost every culture and religion has a history of conquering, converting and killing others.  Great power usually comes with great selfishness.  But should we judge the current Pope based on his family of origin? Do you want your friends judging you based on the things they’ve seen Christians do?  I sure don’t.  Just as God will judge each one of our lives, he will also judge presidents, rulers and pope’s according to what they’ve individually done to share his love. 

From what I’ve seen, Pope Francis’ words may be thoughtful and measured, but he doesn’t seem –calculating – in fact he often goes off script – and against tradition, to share love with others. 

The worst argument I’ve heard again Pope Francis, is that he looks to good to be true. “That’s what the Bible says the anti-Christ will be like. He’ll fool everyone.”  This argument is quite pessimistic.  Should we dismiss anyone who does good on earth as possible suspects for the antichrist?  Oprah, Bill Gates, Bono, Mother Theresa, Dali Lama – all individuals who have taken great pains to be humanitarians in and effort to better our world.  And all I keep hearing about them is, “It’s part of a plan. He/She wants to rule the world with his/her own despicable power and ambition.”  Some of you have been watching too many Disney cartoons.  I know our world will never be fixed by human power, but that should not prevent us from trying to do right, within our communities and our religious systems.  Knowing that humans are naturally selfish should not make us look at the actions of others with such scrutiny, that we become negative in our worldview. 

Instead I think we should study these people who have sway among people and governments – Why do I feel drawn to their words?   Why are their words valued even outside of their religious/cultural communities?  

For me the draw is their compassionate spirit.  I see a gentleness about Pope Francis. Sure, he’s got the cute accent and he’s a little old white haired man.  But even with the cape and hat on, he radiates humility – he speaks softly, lives simply, and draws energy from his interactions with others.  The President of the United States met him at the airport, and small children were drawn to him in the streets.  He met with anti-gay county clerk Kim Davis and he met openly gay old friends.  Somehow all of these people were open to dialogue because they knew they would be received with kindness.  His love for others is palpable.   Pope Francis interacted with all of those people, not according to their positions, age, or actions. But he treated them with dignity, respect and genuine love. He is a pastor, who can stand at the podium on the world stage, and also smile and wave from the back of a Fiat.

We know that humans are flawed, and often choose evil over virtue, but we can’t live our lives on earth distrustful of each other – because it is not what Jesus did. When he came to earth, he knew he was going to be betrayed by those around him, but that didn’t stop him from being with people constantly.   He spoke to them in large groups and dined with them in their homes.  He loved them and let them get uncomfortably close, even including (Judas) in to his inner circle.

Let’s stop praising only those who are like us- people who share our features, cultural history or religious beliefs. That kind of praise keeps in isolation from the world around us, and reeks of racism and cultishness. Instead of being whistle blowing, judgmental Christians; Can we be the positive Christians who see good in others? 

Love is not a judgment or winning argument.  Love does not belong to us alone to hoard in our churches or homes. It roots for others.  It believes in others.  Love wins.