Be Careful What You Paint

I use these words to describe my friend Alycia:

Kind

Caring

Compassionate

Understanding

Resourceful

Forgiving

Loving

Smart

Why?  Because she IS all these things.  She’s a business woman and a public speaker.  She’s a singer and a songwriter.  She’s a mother, a wife, and a homeschooler.  She’s someone I and a lot of other people look up to.

So, tell me, what kind of picture of Alycia do these words paint in your mind?  What would you expect her to look like, to sound like, to act like?

Take a second to really think about this.

Now, think some more.

Here’s another word that some people use to describe her:

Bipolar

Why?  Because Alycia has Bipolar Disorder.

Now, what does your mind’s eye see?  What’s your picture of her?

If I saw your picture, would I use these words to describe it?...

manic

depressed

irresponsible

unreliable

foolish

flighty

flakey

loser

What does it take for you to say “I know all there is to know about them.”?  A word?  A label?  One non-typical encounter?

Be careful that you don’t paint someone’s portrait using just one of the colors on your pallet, especially if that color’s tainted.

Choose The Story You Tell Yourself

Like many newlyweds, Mike and I looked forward to a bright, “happily-ever-after” future following our brief courtship and joyful wedding.  The first couple decades included so many blessings…

Six wonderful children

Fun family trips to the cabin

Weekends at Grandma’s lake home

Good health, great friends, and Spirit-filled churches

Years of productive homeschooling

Continuous employment income

Peace, safety, and growth

…but also heartaches and rough patches, like…

Unwise decisions

Loss of parents and friends

Loss of forty-thousand dollars

Health issues that grew into crises

Loss of many pre-born children

Six homes in five years

Lost dreams

Now, our lists might pale in comparison to yours, but author Bronnie Ware’s guidance speaks to us all:

“…remember the happy times.  Even if they bring memories that also make you sad, try to focus on the good times.  It's easy to get caught up in feelings of loss, loneliness, or lack, rather than in the blessings that were once there."

While we can’t forget painful events, we can choose what we focus on.  And what we focus on ultimately colors our vision, shapes our feelings, and affects our future.

If we focus mostly on the recent or the difficult, we’ll live like that’s all there is or ever was—or worse, can ever be.  We’ll tell ourselves: “Life’s terrible!”

We’ll forget the starry-eyed love that filled our early years.  We’ll miss the encouragement for today that past successes give.  And we’ll lose the hope of a better tomorrow.

If we focus instead on the blessings and the growth—tempered by the wisdom that only pain and disappointment can bring—we’ll live like our past was a teacher, our present is a guide, and our future will be better than we can imagine!  We’ll tell ourselves: “Life’s wonderful!”

We’ll rejoice in past blessings that are still fresh today.  We’ll find strength for the journey in the struggles of the past.  And we’ll greet each morning with excitement and anticipation!

Regardless of your past or present, what you focus on is your choice, and yours alone.  Know, though, that whatever you choose writes the story you tell yourself.  And that story affects everything.

Choose wisely.  Choose ‘WONDERFUL’!

When It’s Hard To Say Anything Positive...

“You need to be your husband’s biggest fan…” the speaker declared.

“But you haven’t met Mike!” I screamed in my head.  “Half the time we talk, he shuts the conversation down before telling me what he thinks.  And he’s clueless the other half of the time!  When I share my feelings, it’s like it doesn’t even sink in.  Then there’s the kids and the finances and the future—his priorities match mine as often as east meets west.”

“…because the rest of the world’s against him!” she continued.  “Even when it’s not, that’s how he feels—everything’s a battle.  Every time you bash him, every time you talk about his faults to him or to others, you show the worst side of him.”

Guilty!

That was then.  Thankfully, today’s a lot different.

Another Bible Study speaker recently asked me: “Who’s your biggest encourager?”  Without hesitation, I said “Mike!”, and I know he’d say the same about me.

So what’s changed?  I’ll explain…

Most of the time, we actually are like peanut butter and jelly, skipping down the path hand-in-hand.  Birds singing.  Sun shining.  The wind at our backs.  A real Hallmark couple.  It’s easy to love and encourage each other on those days!

But sometimes it’s hard, and we’re like oil and water.  On bad days, we both feel alone—single parents living in different worlds.  Usually it’s finances, drama, ‘kid issues’, and other outside forces that pit us against each other.  But not always.  There are times when we just get tired of each other.  (After thirty years, that’s to be expected.)  On those days, I used to spit venom in Mike’s face and shout from the roof tops “HE’S TERRIBLE!”  And he’d do the same to me.

The difference now is that we’ve built a Relationship Savings Account—an ‘RSA’—that we draw from when issues surface.  And as long as the RSA balance doesn’t go ‘negative’, we get through it without bashing each other personally or, more importantly, to others.  You see, because we’ve invested day after day before we need to ‘make a withdrawal’, we now see each other as a friend who disagrees instead of an enemy who needs to be destroyed.

While it’s great if both of you begin making deposits at the same time, don’t wait until the other’s ready before investing!  You can start building your Relationship Savings Account today by doing any of these simple things that have helped us…

·        Leave encouraging or loving notes before you leave in the morning.

·        Tell them how much you appreciate all they do.

·        Go on a fun date.  (my favorite!)

·        Ask how you can pray for them.

·        Actually say “I love you.”

·        Ask “How can I help?”

·        Show affection, but not just in the bedroom.

·        Extend grace when they don’t respond or reciprocate.

·        Offer to talk about priorities and the future (but don’t force the subject).

·        Brag about them to others—they may not know you’re bragging, but it helps you.

·        Pray for them and for your relationship.  Again, they may not know you’re praying, but God listens.

Mental illness stole my Father's Days

Fifteen years into fatherhood, mental illness burst into my son’s life and took up long-term residence.  So did chaos, friction, tears, lying, arguments, anger, and disrespect.  Then drugs.  Then jail.  Then death.  As is often the case, guilt, self-doubt, and self-criticism also moved in, right into my heart.

Up until that time, Father’s Day was a special day for me.  The hugs and gifts from my six kids were always great, but seeing the results of my fathering—the wonderful people that my kids were becoming—meant everything to me.  If the “proof is in the pudding”, my kids were proving that I was a good father, and I pridefully, arrogantly relished that thought.

So it’s probably no surprise that I began to approach Father’s Day with a lot of restraint after David’s world began its downward spiral.  If great kids proved that I was a successful father, David’s lying, stealing, drug abuse, and jail time obviously proved that I was a failure.  I couldn’t honestly accept “Happy Father’s Day!” wishes, or rejoice over the memories of the past year, knowing that I’m a fraud, filled with shame, embarrassment, and self-hatred.

Years later, though, someone challenged me with a question: If I’m a failure as a father because of my child’s actions, aren’t I also saying that my mentally-ill child was a failure as a person because of his actions?

Absolutely not!  The illness caused David to do those things.  It’s not fair to him to discount his kindness, generosity, and love of life, or all the happy memories he created, just because a part of his life was painful and out of his control.

Then it hit me…  While I applied that truth to my son, I didn’t extend it to myself.  In the same way that David wasn’t a failure as a person because an illness caused him to do certain things, I’m not a failure as a father because my child—ill or otherwise—did certain things.

At his memorial service, Ann and I shared and honored the deepest essence of our son, the illness-free part of him.  Even though we candidly acknowledged his many mistakes and his drug-induced death, we also celebrated the fullness and joy of his life, and rightly so.

In the same way, the deepest essence of being a father—the loving kindness, the patient guidance, the protective provision, the sacrifice, generosity, and love—should be the thing we celebrate and honor on Father’s Day.  But for years, I allowed David’s illness-driven actions to convince me of my failures and to rob me of that celebration.

Thankfully, I’ve come to apply to myself the same grace that I extend to David.  Mental illness no longer steals that joy.

If you’re a father whose child acts poorly because of mental illness, take it from someone who’s been there: Their actions don’t diminish your fatherly heart, effort, intent, or ability, your worth, your meaning, or your value.  Don’t let the disease steal your joy as a father.

And if you know of a father who’s struggling to enjoy the third Sunday in June because his ill child isn’t ‘perfect’, encourage him, support him, and honor him for the sacrifice and investment he’s made.  You’ll make his Father’s Day something special.