It Was Worth It

3 August, 2014

I have been asked whether our stay in Spain was worth all the trouble. It's a valid question; one that I have asked myself many times over. We gave up so much to come here:

• Comfortable home, recently renovated
• Church of 20 years, which we helped to build
• Friends
• Family
• Good job
• Predictable life (mostly)
• Cookout milkshakes
• Chick-Fil-A, home of the blessed chicken

After one year of living in another culture, however, I can say unequivocally, emphatically, that yes it was worth it. What we all discovered is that we did not give up many of the things on my list. Some, obviously, are deferred, but others stayed with us the whole time. Our friendships and family ties deepened with the distance. What is more, we developed some real relationships in Spain that we expect to nurture well into the future.

We have made a deposit into our daughters that will accrue interest for the rest of their lives. Opportunities have opened up, even now, for them to follow their passions in ways they never knew were possible before living in another culture. They are no longer shackled by language, nationality or cultural ignorance. 

The question I now ask myself is how can I bring this ethos back home with me? Nothing is more annoying than to hear an ex-expat say how much better everything is over there. My friends have chided me about it a time or two. The comparisons are inevitable, but they are superficial. Debating about who has the best cheese is not what matters. Opening people's minds to the possibility that other cultures are valid, good, even desirable, is the goal I am pursuing. Someone once said that one third of the people in the world eat with forks and call themselves civilized. One third eats with chopsticks and call themselves civilized. One third eats with their hands and call themselves civilized. Perhaps we need to listen to what people say about themselves, instead of forcing our own arbitrary labels upon them. 

I have no idea where God will lead me next, beyond the fact that it will be Hartsville, South Carolina. I do know that whatever does happens will be informed by whatever has already transpired, and for that my heart is full.

Farewell Dinner

3 August, 2014

The other night we held a celebration dinner at Restaurante Victoria. It is one of our favorite places. The family that owns it has adopted us as their own. We wanted to say thank you to some of the people who have marked our lives here in Spain. This isn't the first time we have done this.

Barely one year into our marriage, Susan and I decided to build a house in Pinehurst, NC. Our builder ended up being totally incompetent, so we fired him after four months. Abraham Lincoln was faced with replacing U.S. Grant as general in the middle of a bloody campaign against Robert E. Lee. Lincoln said, "It's not a good idea to switch horses in the middle of a stream." I know what he meant.

Instead of finding a new contractor, we decided to be the G.C. ourselves. Thus commenced a year of hell. Finally we finished the house. We thought it only appropriate to christen it and to say thanks to our friends and family that supported us during the ordeal. Thus began our famous pig-pickin' tradition with 100 of our closest friends.

The dinner at Restaurante Victoria was a somewhat smaller affair. We only had about 30 people. Luckily for our bank account, most of our friends had already cleared town for their vacations. We could have easily filled the plaza, and for that we are truly thankful.

Happy Birthday Katherine

Happy 13^th Birthday to

an amazing teenager who is:

Honorable


Artist and Athletic


Pretty


Passionate


Young


Beautiful


Insightful and Imaginative


Right


Thoughtful


Humorous


Drop dead gorgeous


Amazing


You-nique

I love you,

Mommy

How about that?

Another year has passed.

Perhaps you thought it would never come.

Pain and agony have been a part of your journey, but…

You have also experienced joy and incredible growth.

Believe in yourself.

I have witnessed your incredible gifts.

Remember that we love you to the moon and back.

Things that seem like challenges today are preparing you for     victories tomorrow.

Hold on to those parts of your “girl-hood”, as you pass into “woman-hood”.

Dig a little deeper everyday to find the gold in your life.

Act on your passions, without holding back.

You are my daughter, and I am so happy to say that.

Pictoro-phobia

24 July, 2014

When Katherine was younger, she hated having her picture taken. We still don't know why. Some Africans, upon first seeing a photograph, thought that their souls had been stolen. Perhaps Katherine had the same fears. At any rate, there are several family photos with me trying to get Katherine to raise her head, while she does "the turtle". Since that time, she has slowly allowed the world to see her face. The ultimate was a photo shoot by Tina Wrona in Southern Pines. Tina is a professional photographer and actually teachers other photographers how to shoot the perfect picture. She asked if our girls could be models for one of her lessons. Hmmm...Let me think about it for a minute. OK!!!

This was the first, and only time, that Katherine has said that she looked beautiful. We have often used that moment as a way of reinforcing some positive things in Katherine's life. Thank you, Tina, for that precious gift.

Tonight, over dinner, we were all laughing about a series of photos I took of a "Roman soldier" at the Colosseum. Evidently they are not even sanctioned by the authorities, but they will happily allow you to take a picture with them for €3-4. We spotted several of these Photo Soldiers the other day. One in particular was somewhat camera shy. He would actively seek to avoid the camera, unless you were willing to pay for a picture. As a consequence, he seldom had any customers. While the other centurions were scooping up the moolah, he was playing Sean Penn with the paparazzi. That just tickled me to no end. I saw an opportunity for another adventure.

The Great White Hunter stalks his prey, the ever elusive Centurionis Romanas. Seldom has man seen, much less photographed this magnificent creature. The male is resplendent with green plumage and a beautiful green cape. Notice his authentic faux leather boots and slightly shorter than normal sword. This could prove a significant disadvantage when attracting a suitable mate. Great White Hunter moves warily toward the left. Egads! The beast has spotted us. Taking a photo now will prove most difficult. See his protective maneuver.

Ahhh, an opportunity lost. Patience will win the day, however. The Great White Hunter stalks along behind Centurionis Romanas, ostensibly taking photos of the Colosseum, the natural mating grounds for C.R.

Spooked, the highly intelligent animal maintains a wary eye upon the hunter, who keeps a respectful distance, for fear of a frontal assault.

What's this? A group of girls asks the hunter to take their photograph? Ahh, yes! Of course! A diversion will do nicely here, won't it? As the GWH happily snaps away in feigned nonchalance, the beast is confronted with a bona fide customer, a little girl who wants a photo. What stupendous luck!

The Great White Hunter moves in for the kill. See the determination in the soldier's eyes. He is defeated, but not without his measure of pride.

Another successful safari in the wilds of Rome.

What good fortune! At the ruins of the famed Pantheon, we find yet another fine example of the species. This one is anachronistically talking on his cell phone, no doubt communicating with his Colosseum brethren, who are giving fair warning. Alas, too late for him.

These photos will hang as trophies in the Great White Hunter's library.

Gladiators and Linebreakers

23 July, 2014

"Way of the Dragon", starring Bruce Lee, is one of my favorite films. Lee goes around kicking tail and taking names all over the place. Then somehow, he ends up in Rome, at the Colosseum, fighting Chuck Norris. This is the Unstoppable Force meeting the Immovable Object. Chuck Norris once fought Superman. The loser had to wear his underwear on the outside of his pants. Bruce Lee fought Chuck Norris, and won. The universe stopped spinning for just a little while.

I was queuing up to get my ticket to tour the Colosseum yesterday, thinking about the impossibility of Lee/Norris, when I spotted an Asian man in the line, just behind me. The lines in Rome are not like the USA or Germany. We tend to stay in our places and wait our turn. The lines in Southern Europe, and evidently Asia, are a bit more chaotic. It's every man for himself. I saw him. I saw his eyes narrowing, sizing me up. He knew he could pass me in the line. It was on like Donkey Kong.

"I don't initiate violence. I retaliate." (Chuck Norris)

I was at a disadvantage, because AsiaMan only had a wife with him. I was toting my wife and two daughters. Little did he know, however, that I have been dodging lines my whole life. Nobody gets ahead of me. As we turned the corner, the line collapsed into a jostling crowd, and AsiaMan took the inside track along one of the columns supporting the stadium above. Good move. He edged slightly ahead of me, but I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. 

"Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves." (Bruce Lee)

The Art of Line Breaking is to keep moving forward, yet in a subtle way. I noticed that AsiaMan was being a little too aggressive. My solution was to stand just in his way, while putting Katherine directly in his path. This enabled me to judge his level of sensitivity. If he brushed aside an innocent little girl, then he was going to get in a fight with somebody, namely me, but probably a few dozen other people as well. 

AsiaMan started sighing and groaning. He lost Round One, but my opponent was definitely not defeated. He waited. 

The line, such as it was, wound around another 2,000 year old column, creating another spasm of activity in the crowd. AsiaMan surged ahead to my right. He took a commanding lead! I began to despair, holding my head down in disgust. That's when I saw her.

Katherine caught the scent of the chase. She began to make her way forward, knifing effortlessly through the crowd. It was a beautiful sight. She separated hapless lineholders like chaff from the wheat. AsiaMan started to get nervous. We were within 10 feet of the ticket window, without much room for maneuver. I straddled two ticket lines, keeping my options open for the ultimate strike. He was stuck in Line One, a fatal mistake. My opponent gave me the container. I filled it like water. 

Sometime later, as we surveyed the ruins of the Colosseum, thinking back to the days of gladiators, I saw AsiaMan. Our eyes met. Gone was the confidence. He was defeated. I smiled the smile of humble victory and look over my shoulder for Caesar to give me the thumbs-up. No need to gloat. He was a worthy opponent, and as it turned out, he had to fight against two people.

Justice has nothing to do with victor nations and vanquished nations, but must be a moral standard that all the world's peoples can agree to. To seek this and to achieve it - that is true civilization. Hideki Tojo

I realized sometime later that I did not need to seek the approval of any man like Caesar. My life did not hang in the balance, based on my performance in the arena. I did not need to curry the favor of the fickle crowds. I had already been given my approval by Christ, who died for me. Who was I to hold a grudge against my enemy? 

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Jesus)

The man disappeared. I never saw him again, but the lesson I learned was that nobody wins in the ring. All the gladiators eventually die. We must move beyond the fight. But first, I'm gonna beat you to the front of the line.

Travel Tips

16 July, 2014

One of the big benefits of living in Spain has been cheap travel to all the cool spots in Europe. Now that we are heading home, we felt the need to cram in as much travel as possible into the final six weeks of our time here. In addition, the Kjellgren family, my in-laws, like to travel every year to a different destination in Europe. This was a perfect storm.

The fruit is almost ripe (Look for the girls)

Firenze

A local belt maker. He cut the belts to size and gave the girls leather bookmarks as well.

Hangin' with Chairman Mao.

Here is our itinerary:

Naples and Amalfi Coast
Athens
Greek Islands cruise
Milan
Lucern
Bern
Florence and Tuscany
Cinque Terre
Rome
Sicily

As of today, we are in the middle of Florence and Tuscany. It ain't easy being me.

Here's my take on traveling, in case you're interested.

• Meet and Greet
• When traveling to any foreign destination, which includes something as mundane as the next town over, try to focus at least part of the trip on actually meeting and interacting with a local. Too often we treat people like they are just part of the scenery. I cannot recount the number of times I have seen and overheard travelers gawking and making disparaging comments about locals. Before I seem to righteous, I must admit to being something of a white-washed sepulchre. Perhaps this is why I am so attuned to the behavior. We always seem to notice our faults in others more than in ourselves.
• Get off Main Street
• If everybody in the restaurant or shop is speaking your language, leave. Today we walked through Florence with a true blue local. He took us to his house for a cooking class. As we walked away from the tourist areas, he began to point out shops run by true artisans--shoes, purses, metal-working, book-binding. We were the only English speakers around. We found better deals and interacted with true craftsmen.
• Eat Treats (or sometimes tricks)
• Ordering in a foreign country is easy. Either order the craziest thing on the menu or whatever is the special of the day. My theory is that restaurants only put things on the menu that taste good, since that is what generates a profit. Therefore, the risk in trying new things is fairly minimal. So go ahead and be a little adventurous. Even better is to shop in a local market and actually cook a meal. My ultimate goal is to meet a stranger and get invited to their house for dinner. It hasn't happened yet, but I just know that I am getting closer all the time.
• Beat feet
• I try to never come home the same way. If I get lost, it's a bonus. Many times I have found a special little restaurant, shop or vista. We tend to be so afraid of traveling off the beaten track, but it is most often without merit. Obviously it is not a good idea to walk down an alley, when you see a pimp or drug dealer hawking their wares.
• Speak
• Speaking the language is a balm. Even just a little phrase can change the attitude of a salesman in a shop or waiter in a restaurant. Really, we have no excuses anymore. With Google Translate, you can speak, or at least write, any language you want. I downloaded Italian, so that I can even speak when offline. 

Traveling is an incredible privilege. We should avail ourselves of every opportunity to interact with other cultures. Be aware, however, that merely visiting another place does not necessarily equate with actually interacting, anymore than visiting McDonald's makes you a Big Mac. Get out there and do something different.

To Infinity and Beyond

14 July, 2014

Danger Askins and his crew have been in the deepest reaches of outer space, fighting the dread school break fever. Emerging from his self-imposed slumber and languor, Danger is ready for the next challenge--Vacation to Italy and Beyond!

For all of June, we packed all our worldly belongings or gave them away to new-found friends, in preparation for a six week tour of Italy, Greece and Switzerland, after which we will be moving back to Hartsville, South Carolina, the town of my birth and seat of my ancestry.

Sadly this means the coming end of the Redneck's life in Europe. For now. Many people have asked us whether it was worth it to trade the known and comfortable existence we enjoyed for the decidedly unknown and discomfiting life in another country. My reply, and Susan's, has always been the same. Absolutely. The girls, too, have slowly come around to the reality that their journey to Hell and back left more than just some scorch marks on their souls. They have even started to see that La Alberca, Spain is actually a pretty nice place to live.

Katherine was invited to go swimming with some of her friends about a week before we left for vacation. When she arrived, she found her entire class waiting for her. Her friends had planned a going away party for Katherine. That's when it hit her. She later told me that I was breaking her heart for the second time in a year. The first was coming to Spain. The second would be leaving it. A few limbs broke off and all the leaves blew away in the year-long hurricane of emotions and anxiety. Her trunk will show some wear, perhaps a knot or two. However for all her sufferings over the past year, and there have been many, Katherine is blossoming into a beautiful young woman. When she looks back over her life, Katherine will see the stoutest parts of her trunk came at those moments when she faced the greatest adversity. Those rings will be close together and tightly wound, giving her the strength she will need to endure harsher storms. We are gently pruning her in preparation for bountiful harvests. The fruit will be all the sweeter.

Elizabeth is already seeing some benefits. Spain served as a cocoon out of which she was forced to emerge under her own power. As her wings unfold and dry out, she will be flying to places of her own choosing. Butterflies seem to have no pattern or path as they flit about, yet they always land at their destination. Her scope is focusing and her destination is becoming international, like a monarch. From this point forward, we will be giving less direct intervention and more guidance. She will be flying away soon, only three more years. We will be left to watch the wonderful display.

Mosiacs and Restaurants

12 May, 2014

We have traveled extensively over the past year, which is an incredible privilege. One of the challenges, however, is finding a way to engage our daughters, who have become somewhat saturated with "another cathedral" or "another museum". It makes me a little angry to even say that. I mean, they should be more appreciative of what they're getting, right? Whatever. Teenagers are the same all over the world.

One way of combatting teenage boredom on our vacations is to engage them in some family activity. Lately it has been art. In Barcelona, we attended a workshop with artist Martin Brown. He is actually British, but has been living in Spain for several years. He is a full time artist and has amazing talent. You can see pictures of some of his work on this post. I will also link to his website.

Martin creates incredible mosaics and hosts classes right in his little apartment. It was a real treat to be able to sit down with him and design a mosaic, while he watched over the process. Each person worked independently, using a box full of tile shards of various shapes and sizes.

We all hunkered down to our tasks and chatted with Martin along the way. He is an amiable guy who fell into mosaics after a pretty successful career as a textile designer in the fashion world.

After two hours, that felt like two minutes, we each had a little mosaic to take home with us. Of course, Susan and Katherine made some incredible pieces. Elizabeth's was very nice as well. Mine? Well, I completed the project. In the "everybody gets a medal" kind of way, I'm a winner too.

Truthfully, it was one of the funnest things we did in Barcelona, along with taking pictures of funny sounding restaurants, which has become another staple of our travels. Really the two go together in a weird, mosaic kind of way. All the experiences we have shared have served to shape and define our family. Each moment together is another piece that combines to make a whole. Our lives are nothing more than a composite of tiny little seconds. We must choose wisely how we place them in the framework of time.

Who wants a plate of pipin' hot dukey?

Bugs. It's what's for dinner.

I'll have the barf on brie, please. Oh and a wedge of vomit, if you don't mind.

Street Performers

20 April, 2014

Our family is in Madrid on Spring Break. It's payment for the girls' hard work in school and also an opportunity to hang out with my mama, sister and niece. Our cup runneth over.

Over the past couple of days, I have noticed several street performers on Plaza Mayor. They have always fascinated me. You can separate them into a few categories:

• Musicians
• Contortionists
• Artists
• Hip Hop Dancers
• Magicians

The musicians seem to be driven more by passion than money. I am sure they are hoping to rake in a big haul, like everybody else, but quite often they don't even acknowledge the crowd. The musician just needs an outlet. I met a band yesterday. They were all young and sang 80's rock covers with a weird kind of Spanish/British accent. They drew a decent crowd every time, but didn't generate a lot of money. All the guys were friendly and excited about their upcoming CD. They told me their main purpose for being on the Plaza was to be close to the fans. If that's true, they succeeded.

The other day, we visited a street market in Madrid and I came upon a guy playing a set of wine glasses. I was excited to see him, because I had just demonstrated how to make that distinctive sound to Katherine on a wine glass at home. He was talented, but lacked an ability to engage the audience.

That same day we encountered a group of classical musicians that included a singer. He had a rich baritone, and possessed obvious talent. A crowd of 50 or so people gathered around. He captured all of us and held us in spellbound attention. Money flowed out of our pockets like water over the Niagara Falls. A little bit later, a woman joined the group and sang in a beautiful soprano. They were definitely professional singers.

Contortionists come in all shapes and sizes, literally. The big thing these days is levitation. Even Jesus got into the act.

The really good ones will generate €150/night. That's not bad for just hanging around. Francesca, the ghost bride, is an aspiring actress. She is new to the street performance business and only makes between €30-70/night for five nights a week. That's not a great living, but enough to pay the bills, and she has most of the day to hunt for other work.

Street Artists make those caricatures that everybody has somewhere in their closet or proudly hanging on the wall. Katherine had been begging for one, and we finally found one in Plaza Mayor. It was hard for Katherine to sit still while the guy was drawing her. She was dying to know what it looked like. I showed him some of Katherine's work, and he was really impressed. It's a great picture, and I think it will bolster Katherine's growing love of art. 

Hip Hop Dancers fascinate me. This is an art form that literally started in the streets. Perhaps it is the lovechild of Contortionists and Musicians. Michael Jackson supposedly first saw the "Moonwalk" on the street. As this art form ages, it has begun to attract and retain an older, read richer, audience. All the dancers have worked hard at smiling and engaging the crowds. Many times, they have a "plant" in the audience, usually a little kid, that they will "beg" to come inside the ring and dance a little bit. Of course the kid is a prodigy and the audience goes wild.

Magicians are definitely the top of the food chain. It makes sense, because illusions transcend language and culture and don't require a lot of props. All the successful magicians are great at involving the audience. They select an older guy, a good looking woman and a child, often reaching into the second or third tier for "volunteers". Rubén has been performing street magic for a couple of years now, and he makes about €200/night, four nights a week. That's about $55,000 per year. Not bad for a 20 hour work week. He also performs for private parties, and I am sure he practices ad nauseum to hone his skills and work on his delivery. His whole performance was with a set of magic ropes that got longer and shorter, while twin brother passed the hat.

All the acts work hard for their money. It's not easy performing in front of a big crowd that is constantly looking for other diversions. Quite often we watch with amusement and then saunter off to the next thing, without ever dropping a coin in the hat. I would suggest you support the arts, in whatever form and location you find it. One day you may find yourself on the street and need a little magic yourself.

I Need a Bigger Sack

10 April, 2014

I have rightly earned the reputation for being a gorron, or mooch, both here and in the USA. It is a gift. Somehow I am able to position myself to receive free stuff that other people happily gather on my behalf. It would be sinful for me to turn down their hospitality, so I humbly accept whatever comes my way. Evidence of this fact is that we have driven a car here in Spain for 7 months. Free of charge. We neither asked for it nor expected it, but there it is. What was I supposed to do? 

The same goes for fruits and vegetables. Sure we buy things at the market, but almost on a routine basis, somebody gives us a sack of something. Quite often, it's oranges.

Murcianos are very proud of their agriculture. They will tell you, without a shred of doubt, that their fruits and vegetables are better than anywhere else in the world. After living here for seven months, I am inclined to believe them. Two of their most ardent passions are lemons and oranges. Orchards stretch as far as the eye can see. Anyone with more than a postage stamp of dirt will have a tree, bursting forth with great globules of juicy sweetness. Every morning Susan drinks two oranges, fresh-squeezed. She has made some incredible lemon squares as well. The locals even sprinkle lemon juice on their potato chips and sliced ham. You just have to try it. 

Yesterday, a friend of mine gave me a big sack of oranges. I asked where he got them, and he said they came from an abandoned orchard. This blew me away, so I told him I wanted to go on the next procurement mission. And another adventure begins.

When we arrived at the orchard, I saw about 200 trees, full of oranges. Gonzalo asked me what I brought for a bag. My plan was to fill my backpack, and I also had a shopping bag. He chuckled and told me I didn't bring a big enough sack. Luckily he furnished one for me.

We picked oranges for about half an hour, and I came away with about 70 pounds of oranges and lemons, all there for the taking. Thousands of oranges lay on the ground. Many more still hung in the trees. The season is coming to an end, so they will probably just rot away.

The scene left an indelible mark on me. I started thinking about how God doles out blessings. My family is incredibly blessed, beyond measure. We have so much for which to give thanks. I am not speaking about material possessions. We gave up many of our "things" before we came to Spain, and we are better for it. I am speaking about intangible blessings like:

• Friends 
• Family
• Health
• Opportunities
• Mercy
• Peace

God has an infinitely large orchard and tells us to take all we can carry. I think he laughs sometimes at our bags. They are so puny, compared to the abundant harvest that awaits us. 

The tragedy is that most people don't know about the orchard and starve just outside its borders. I have a bag that is stuffed to overflowing, much more than my family can consume, so I am left with the happy task of finding other people who would like to share in the bounty. I am an orange/blessing missionary.

The truth is that the trees would produce even more fruit, if they were pruned and cared for. They actually respond better to being picked than to being left alone. The oranges need to be taken for the health and well-being of the tree. If we could see God's blessings rotting on the ground, due to our neglect and unwillingness to pick the fruit for others, I wonder if we would be more inclined to do the work. 

Of course the greatest blessing of all is salvation. I have neglected that part of the harvest while here in Spain, to my discredit and shame, choosing instead to keep all the fruit to myself. 

These were his instructions to them: "The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields. (Jesus. Luke 10:2)

I'd better get a bigger sack.

Growing Up is Hard to Do

5 April, 2014

I once heard about a guy that wrote The Ten Commandments of Parenting. Then he had a child. His second edition was entitled, Ten Suggestions for Parenting. After his second child, he became a plumber. He just wanted to be able to fix something and walk away.

I am great with kids, of almost any age. Most of my acumen derives simply from a selfish attempt to make people like me. Kids are easier prey, because they react to less subtle attempts at humor. If you can break wind, you can make most boys squeal with delight. Easy. Thanks Dad.

Girls are usually pretty easy as well. They just need a little more time to adjust to the obvious breach in social decorum, not to mention air. Once you have them, though, they are yours forever.

Raising kids, however, is a totally different plane of existence from merely entertaining them. I am totally clueless. The baby stage wasn't too hard. That is more an issue of endurance than knowledge. An infant has some pretty basic needs and only cries when one of those needs isn't being met. That is exactly how men operate:

1. Acknowledge the existence of a problem.
2. Analyze the situation.
3. Determine the best course of action.
4. Instruct your wife.
   
5. Return to the ball game on TV.
6. Adjust volume if necessary.

As children get older, they begin to learn how to manipulate emotions to achieve desired results. This requires the parent to learn how to discern truth from reality, even down to shades of truth. Men are not designed for this type of work. We are the hammer, making every problem a nail to be driven. 

Women have more tools in their toolbox. I think it's because they were the second model off the assembly line. God added some pretty cool modifications to Eve, like subtlety and compassion. Man's dearth of so many good qualities leads him to seek out the One who possesses them. The abundance of good qualities in women leads them to search out the One that understands them. That's some really bad theology, but it is at least fun to think about.


Teenagers have overrun the castle walls in my house. Elizabeth is 15 and Katherine 12 9/12, so I give her full credit by virtue of rounding up to the nearest whole number.

When faced with an enemy with superior numbers and an iron will, it is best to seek terms of surrender and live in peace, rather than die quickly and go down in history as an ignominious despot. "Better a live dog, than a dead lion." (King Solomon, Ecc 9:4)

Fortunately for me, I am a good negotiator, and Elizabeth was my first born. She asks for relatively simple things, like staying up later than usual, eating ice cream and applying makeup. She is something like Mollie, the horse in Animal Farm, that chooses a life of servitude with the humans, in exchange for pretty bows in her hair. Done. One day she will realize her best qualities lie deep within. Elizabeth will refine her talents and use them to take over the world. Until then we just need to provide some guardrails to keep her from getting hurt.

Katherine is more like Napoleon, the ultimate victor in the Animal Farm rebellion. Snowball started it, but Napoleon sent him to the slaughterhouse. "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others." I admire Katherine's style, even while I cower in fear. She raises the ante until you are forced to fold your hand. With Elizabeth, you can withhold phone or makeup. Katherine will give you her phone before you ask, as a way of saying, "I don't give a rip what you take away. Now whatcha got, punk?"

The interesting part to me is that we really don't ever need to punish Katherine. She does a pretty good job of that herself. We normally tell her to relax, don't worry about grades, go have fun. She responds with more drive, more anxiety over grades, more stress. The castle gates are open, but she seems to prefer scaling the walls instead. The only thing that we have learned so far is that she responds better to whispers than shouts. She expects bluster, but we respond, sometimes, with a gentle breeze. One day her anger will subside and she will channel her passion for creative, constructive endeavors. I have no doubt about that. Between now and then, we just need to hang on, until the storm abates. It will run its course, and we will repair the damage. 

Somebody once told me that children are like the moon, always moving into a different phase. I take great comfort in that, knowing that whatever our current situation, we can make it to the next phase in the cycle. It also scares me to wonder whether we are heading toward a full moon or have already passed it. 

The best consolation is knowing that we just need to follow the Light. 

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (Jesus, John 8:12)