Dorothy Miller.org

His face seemed sad as he sat quietly beside me. I could tell he wanted to chat, to tell me the thoughts currently plaguing his mind.  

I struggled knowing the right questions to ask, though I could guess exactly what was coming.  

I had urged him to go to an overnight multi church event, telling him it would be fun. 

He’d been hesitant, but agreed to go. 

Since his little sister died 5 years ago, sleep has been an issue, so I obtained permission for him to bring his audio book and a noise machine our family has found to be helpful, pushing back the worry that it may be another way to set him apart. 

Sure enough.  

I watched my son, with tears in his eyes, explain how he had been the object of jokes and how the other boys had told him in plain english that he just wasn’t cool enough to be with them.  

Ugh.

I’ve thought as he’s grown, that boys are so much less drama than girls.  

How incorrect my assumption!   

I know my son is different.  

He’s left handed, dislexic, and big for his age.  

He prefers entertaining younger children over playing games with his peers and still, at age 12,  loves Thomas the Tank engine. 

He’s never been into playing ball or sports of any kind, thought we’ve offered to get him involved. 

Despite the list of things he’s not, he is a mastermind at fixing things. 

He is my troubleshooter, fixing anything from my broken food processor to the tv remote. 

Reading the hard copy of a book is not his strength but he has devoured close to a hundred full length, age/grade appropriate audio books in the past few months. 

Parenting has had many surprising twists and turns. 

I did not anticipate the sheer amount of drama that presents its ugly self each day. 

I remember some drama as a kid but the stuff my kids have experienced makes me contemplate moving the family to a deserted island. 

Just kidding of course.  

In all seriousness though, I long to protect them and just make things be ok. I wish life would treat them kindly.  Not that we need a pass for doses of extra kindness, but from my vantage point, grief pretty much made their playing field uneven, rough at the edges.  

I pray for Godly, kind friendships for each of my children and that they could be kind as God is kind, loving the unlovely and the unpopular. 

Mostly, I hope that I am not making them into feeble, frail persons who as adults will embrace a victim mentality, holding on tightly to every hurtful situation.  

As I continue to observe their stories unfolding, I am made painfully aware of how much I am just like them, insecure, awkward, unsure of who exactly God made me to be. 

This past year has been a real exercise in reminding myself almost daily that I am not the sum of what people have said and surmised me to be.

The pain of being labeled and defined by one’s weakness and past can squeeze the very life out of a hurting soul. 

It’s especially difficult when the most hateful of actions and words come from those professing the name of Christ. 

My teenage daughter spoke complete truth from one of our family’s lowest points this past summer stating simply that if the actions we have seen represent Christianity, she wants nothing of it, no part!

What then is the basis of living like Jesus, learning what God is trying to teach us and finding the good in our adversities?  

1 Thessalonians 5:11 says very simply “Encourage one another and build each other up”….

How do we do that?

The start may simply be understanding that God created each and everyone of us with meaning and purpose and treating those around us with that awareness. 

I recently sat through a super fun, community class where the main focus was studying personality differences.  We looked at our own strengths, weaknesses, joys and needs and then evaluated which other natures we get along with the easiest and how very important it is to remember the need for each and every personality God created. 

While some of the hard times in life revolve around more than simple personality differences, evaluating the reactions of others based on how God created them may help us extend grace much more freely. 

Maybe our focus is key?  

I am hoping that my children will see me work through my own pain, insecurity and awkwardness in healthy ways and that they will find the courage to seek and find God’s unique purpose for each of them and offer that grace to others.