E-Book, Englisch, 170 Seiten
Thrall / Lynch / McNicol Cure & Parents
1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9863648-5-3
Verlag: Trueface
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)
E-Book, Englisch, 170 Seiten
ISBN: 978-0-9863648-5-3
Verlag: Trueface
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)
Parenting begins with us, the parents. It always involves earning our children's trust. Whether we are overwhelmed at being parents, planning to be parents, reacting to our parents, or learning to stand with our kids as they now parent, we need to know there is always a way home, convinced God is in the middle of every stage of our family. Find yourself in this story as you ride along with the Clawsons on vacation. Go inside the episode as each part of the story unfolds, and find the freedom and truth that God offers us as we build trust with our kids, and discover insight and hope for our own painful patterns. This book is filled with joy, insight, wisdom and maybe a fresh way of seeing our families and ourselves. Enjoy the ride.
Autoren/Hrsg.
Weitere Infos & Material
EPISODE 1: MEET
THE
PARENTS Silence is golden. Until it isn’t. No one in the car is talking. No one’s been talking the seventy-five miles stretching from North Phoenix to the first rest area on the way to Los Angeles. Only the dull hum of tires on interstate. Everyone except the driver has those little white ear buds in, all intentionally listening to anything but each other. Jim Clawson is the driver. He’s the dad. And he is also much of the reason no one is talking to each other. Jim and his wife Sarah occupy the front seats while fourteen-year-old Madison and nine-year-old Aiden sit in the back. At this moment, they’re only resentful passengers in a crowded vehicle. As Jim turns the car off ear buds are removed. And for just a moment, before everyone climbs out, there is a very ungolden silence. It is whispering to each of the Clawsons that something is very wrong with their family. This was supposed to be an epic vacation. Something in it for everyone. Out of the withering Arizona summer heat, for several days at Newport Beach. Then up the coast to Monterey and San Francisco, finally circling back home through several national parks. Supposed to be. Ah, what a phrase. Now all Jim can see is a frustrated wife, an angry daughter, and a son who wears mismatched clothes for no reason except, apparently, to exasperate his parents. It’s never easy to know the exact moment when a family begins to find itself. It may be easier to pinpoint when things got darkest. For the Clawsons, that particular moment might have been last evening. Maybe they should have seen it coming. Some of the worst blowups a family can experience are in the two- to three-day window before the start of a family vacation, or on the way to church on Sunday morning. Surely this is documented somewhere. Surely. Last evening, just after dinner, Madison, halfway out of the front door, had called, “Going to Jeff’s.” Three little words. Jim Clawson is not fond of this Jeff. He is not particularly fond of any fifteen-year-old boy. He ran out into the front yard, yelling loudly enough for neighbors to hear: “You’re not going anywhere. Your room is a mess, you’re not packed, and there are things your mom has asked you to do that you still haven’t done. Oh, and we’ve never even yet met this Jeff.” Madison was no more than twenty feet from Jim. His yelling was clearly for effect. She was humiliated, hurt, and angry. Then hurt and angry. Then only angry. All within seconds. She turned and ran past him back into the house and slammed the door to her bedroom. Jim followed after her, pounding hard on her locked door. “Why do you always do this? Madison, open the door!” Silence. “I don’t want you seeing that boy. Do you hear me?” More silence. “Do you hear me!” The door violently swung open. Madison stepped back and slowly spit out these words: “I’m not deaf. Neither is the whole neighborhood. I get it—you don’t trust me. You don’t trust any of us. Oh, and I never wanted to go on this stupid vacation. So I’ll be as miserable as I possibly can. Watch me.” She timed these last words with the slamming of the door. It is now fifteen hours later at this barren desert rest stop. Jim, Sarah, Madison, and Aiden each climb back into their fully packed Subaru Forrester, each one slamming a door. Long before this trip, Sarah had stumbled across a parenting podcast series a friend had highly recommended titled “Enjoy the Ride.” She downloaded the series onto her phone. Her plan was to play segments of it along the road each day, to pass the time and maybe involve the kids in some way. Jim was surprisingly open to it. Now the idea seems ridiculous. And manipulative. Approaching Blythe, California, the desert sameness is taking its toll on all of them: “Dad, make Aiden move away from me.” “Jim, I hate the desert.” “Sarah, I should have filled up the tank back in Phoenix.” “Mom, did someone wash my shirt in vomit? It smells like vomit.” Blythe, in the middle of summer, can make any issue worse. They follow the Lovekin off-ramp onto a street devoted almost entirely to fast-food restaurants. It is early afternoon on July 14—116 degrees, on its way to 118. As they walk from the car to this vacation’s first meal, the parking lot asphalt is actually spongy. Once in the car, sharing burgers, tacos, and onion rings causes multiple arguments. And Madison is complaining to Jim that the AC is not getting to her. “It’s still not aimed at the back seat,” she says in a loud sigh. “I already adjusted the vent.” “It’s aimed at your door. Nobody’s sitting there. I’m back here. In the back seat.” “Then your mom and I won’t have air on us.” “You have other vents. For example, the one aimed at the door.” And so on. Jim, gamely trying to change the mood asks, “Let’s listen to that podcast.” Madison puts her ear buds back in. Aiden does the same. “Jim, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” “Sarah, the last thing I want to listen to is a parenting podcast. But there are no good radio stations out here. And I’m the only one without ear buds.” “Do what you like. But not me. Maybe later.” “But I need your phone to play it.” “Then how am I supposed to listen to my music?” “C’mon, Sarah. Just play it for ten minutes.” As the Clawsons pull onto the on-ramp, heading west on Interstate 10, the first session of “Enjoy the Ride” begins. The narrator’s rich alto voice fills the already crowded Subaru. Her first words are startling: “When your children are young, being the parent carries enough control to handle them. But if you don’t grow up as they grow older, your immaturity will stunt their maturity at the level of your own. And no measure of control can handle that.” Almost involuntarily, Jim and Sarah do what they’ve been avoiding the last seventeen hours. They look at each other. “Wait. What did she just say?” “What?” Jim responds, still stunned by the narrator’s words. “The woman on the podcast. What did she just say?” Jim sneaks a glance into the rear view mirror to see if Madison or Aiden are listening. They are both staring out into the desert on either side of the car, ear buds firmly in place. Sarah pauses the audio. “Something about my immaturity, I think. Can you play it back?” She does. “But if you don’t grow up as they grow older, your immaturity will stunt their maturity at the level of your own. And no measure of control can handle that.” “So what’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah pauses the podcast. “I have no idea. It’s your podcast.” Several miles go by. Sarah, almost to herself, says, “When they were younger, it wasn’t so complicated. I just had to be okay with them destroying the sugar packets in restaurants. And the crying. And the lack of sleep. And cleaning sand out of everything. It was nonstop. But I usually thought I knew what I was doing. Now Madison gives me this look that says, ‘You have no clue what to do with me right now, do you?’” Jim is listening, but careful not to respond. “And she’s absolutely right. She’s on to me. I have no clue how to parent her anymore.” Several more miles pass by. The road fifty yards ahead looks like a lake in the heat-formed mirage of midday. “I’m becoming who I promised myself I would never be. All the things I would never say. All the rules I told myself I’d never impose on my kids. The manipulation, the control, fighting on their level. And now … I’m doing it.” Somewhere near Chiriaco Summit, Sarah turns the podcast back on. And they just let it play. All the way through the first session. Both look into the back seat at their now sleeping kids. Jim and Sarah gradually begin talking to each other. It is neither personal nor animated. But it is talking. Not silence. INSIDE THE EPISODE We begin with the quote that stopped Jim and Sarah in their collective tracks: “When your children are young, being the parent carries enough control to handle them. But if you don’t grow up as they grow older, your immaturity will stunt their maturity at the level of your own. And no measure of control can handle that.” Parenting exposes unresolved issues we might otherwise ignore or be perpetually unaware of. Like it or not, those we love tend to most often reveal unresolved issues in us. An “unresolved issue” is a significantly...




