PARENTING TOPIC: Imagine the end

Practicing Friendship

Monday, April 22nd, 2013

I really think we could learn a lot about friendship from our kids, especially when they are young. I’m always amazed at how easily kids can make friends on the playground, at the ball park, or in line at the grocery store. Maybe it’s just easier to strike up play when you’re younger than conversation when you’re older. They also must have short-term memories. They are screaming at each other one minute and laughing together the next! That’s a lesson in forgiveness right there!

But knowing how to be a good friend over time is not always intuitive for our kids. My daughter, Sara, came in one afternoon as dramatic as any girl would . . .upset that no one liked her. It broke her momma’s heart. She just didn’t understand how no one wanted to play with her. If you knew my Sara, you would know she is sweet, fun, and creative. But she can also be a little bossy.

I was thankful for the opportunity to impart a little wisdom. Rather than coddle her and bash her “friends” like I was tempted to do, I pointed out that it’s not always easy to know how to be a good friend. And that maybe she could practice becoming a better one. Someone they would want to be around. When the time was right, I shared this advice with her:

1. People love it when you compliment them. Have you ever told your friends you really like their ideas? You liked what they were wearing? You thought they were funny?

2. Sometimes you have to sacrifice what you want to do —even if you don’t feel like doing what they want to do or you think your idea is better. Good friends give and take. Especially when it comes to sharing ideas, conversations, and activities. And no one likes to be told what to do, not even you!

3. Do what you wish they would do for you. Think of what would make you feel special, and do it for others. Bring them snacks. Let them borrow something you like. Write them a sweet note. But don’t expect anything in return. Because that’s what good friends do!

4. Don’t take it personally. Your friends are trying to figure out how to be better friends, too. We all tend to think about ourselves more than others, so sometimes you just have to give them a break.

I was intent on not lecturing, just offering some ideas that might help. But Sara didn’t seem to even be listening. I imagined she thought I was being ridiculous. Maybe she was still wallowing in her self pity. She was completely silent through her tears and never said a word in reply. Still, I let her know that no matter what, I loved her to the moon and back.

A couple of days later, she flew in the house—ecstatic. She said, “Mommy, it worked!!” I had no idea what she was talking about. She had to remind me, “Those things you told me to try, they worked!! I’m practicing how to be a good friend, and it’s working!”

I’m sure there’s no greater joy than to know you’re helping your children grow in areas where they might flounder on their own. I know you have your own wisdom to share with your kids on how to be a good friend. As far as my advice, I probably have some practicing to do, too!

How are you helping your kids be a better friend?

Karen Wilson works at Orange and is the Managing Editor for the OrangeParents blog. She and her husband Mark have two children, Elijah (10) and Sara (8).

2

5 Ways to Encourage Your Kids to Tell The Truth

Tuesday, March 12th, 2013

My grandmother used to tell me about a parenting strategy she used to us to get my mom and uncles to tell the truth when they were kids.

If she suspected one of her children was lying, she would line them up and tell them that she was going to inspect their foreheads. Every time one of the kids asked why, she simply said, “Because when I see your forehead, I can tell who’s telling the truth or not.”

Inevitably, as she went down the line, the child who was lying would cover their forehead so my grandma couldn’t see. Then my grandmother would proceed to them and say “So it was you. Now I know.”

Clearly, she was a genius.

I suppose using a game of deception to encourage honesty might not be the best parenting idea going, but you have to give her points for ingenuity.

What my grandmother struggled with is what every parent struggles with: how do I get my kids to be honest?

I suppose some of you have some parenting tricks you’d love to share (we’re all ears here), but here are a few strategies that can help you foster the kind of atmosphere that values truth:

1. Start talking about honesty early. If you begin the conversation early, you can establish honesty as a core value in your home. You can reward a toddler’s behavior every time they tell you they did something bad. Well that wasn’t right and we’ll have to do something about it, but I’m SO glad you told me the truth. Thank you! That’s so important!

2. Discourage dishonesty even more than you discourage the crime. We all make mistakes. But we don’t have to lie about them.   If your child does something wrong, consequences are in order. But if they lie about what they did, make the consequences greater. If all you do is punish the act, you might be giving them unspoken incentive to lie about the act.

3. Don’t lie. I was going to say this more tactfully, but maybe we need to be direct. Almost all of us tell white lies from time to time. Ever been caught  in front of your kids trying to come up with an excuse to get out of something? Oh, just tell them you’re busy, I know you really don’t want to go. Or maybe your kids have overheard you talking about how to get that ‘extra’ day off on your vacation. Well, you could call in sick. Ouch. They model what you do more than they model what you say.

4. Search for a way to tell the truth. While this might not work well with two-year-old, but as your kids get older, explain the dilemma you find yourself in when you are tempted to tell a ‘white lie’. For example, you might say, “I really want to tell her I liked the brocoli salad, but I didn’t. So I found the things I did like and told her about that. . . such as, “I so appreciate all the time and effort you put into making the meal. Thank you!” It teaches your kids to search for a way to tell the truth when we all have trouble finding it. And it teaches them to value honesty in every situation.

5. Talk about your struggles. As your kids get older, talk about your struggles to tell the truth. Tell them about how easy it is to lie in order to not hurt someone’s feelings, and how you really have to wrestle with being 100% honest at work in every situation. When you let them know it’s still a struggle for you, it validates the struggle they feel within themselves. It’s also another way to establish the value of honesty as a core value not just in your home, but in your lives.

What are you learning about valuing honesty in your home? What would you add to the discussion?

5

Innocent Little Liars

Friday, March 8th, 2013

by Karen Wilson

Your cute innocent little children have deceived you. They are not who they appear to be! If you haven’t already caught them in a lie, chances are you will. And more than once—as toddlers, as young children, and as teenagers.

At first you might want to try to suppress laughter as you watch them unknowingly betray themselves.

  • They’ll tell you they didn’t eat the chocolate cake that is smeared all over their face.
  • They’ll try to persuade you they brushed their teeth, but not let you smell their breath.
  • They’ll say they found that trinket in the parking lot, even though you saw them eyeing it in the store.

Eventually petty lies turn into big whoppers and you may one day be heartbroken to realize your teenager is living a double life.

But lying is a common childhood offense, much more so than you might guess, and they start testing their skills at a very young age.

One study found that some four-year-olds lied once every two hours and some six-year-olds lied once every 90 minutes. The study also found that 96% of all kids lie. (I bet the other 4% were lying about it.) Lying is actually a sign of cognitive development. In another survey, 80% of high school students  admitted to lying to their parents about something “significant” in the past year.

Once they learn to lie, does it even make logical sense for our children to tell the truth when it might

cost them something they really want,
affect their grade,
make them seem boring,
or get them punished?

Kids will inevitably want to choose the easier route and lie their way to safety, just as we are often tempted to do. They will lie to get what they want, but they keep lying because they want to stay in our good graces, and to avoid punishment.

Mostly they lie to protect a relationship. If only they could understand that when the truth comes out, it’s even more devastating to the very relationship they were trying to protect.  (If only we understood that too!)

Here’s the bottom line. Your child lies to you. All the time. Don’t let their innocence fool you. In the words of Bill Cosby, “Children are brain-damaged.” They haven’t figured it all out yet. They make stupid mistakes and you should expect them to tell crazy lies too.

But dishonesty should not be ignored. It’s our job as parents to show our kids how to value honesty­, grow in integrity­­–and be trustworthy even when they make mistakes.

Most parents would agree that honesty is a trait they want most for their children. But how does that actually play out in our own home?

Do we focus more on the crime that caused our child to lie or the lie?
Do we create a safe place for them to tell the truth?
Do we keep our own word?

We have to be intentional about teaching our children to choose to be HONEST even when it’s hard. Not only will it keep them out of trouble, but it will affect every one of their relationships, and their overall quality of life.

How do you react to your kids when you catch them in a lie?

Tune in next week! Carey will share 5 ways to encourage our children to be honest.

Karen Wilson works at Orange and is the Managing Editor for the OrangeParents blog. She and her husband Mark  have two children, Elijah (10) and Sara (8).

5

Falling Short

Sunday, February 24th, 2013

My husband and I are short people. We knew long before each of our boys was born they didn’t stand a chance. Height was not in the cards.

Several months ago the county fair was in town, so on opening night we headed out with our family and some friends to experience what only a county fair can offer—shockingly greasy food and highly entertaining people watching. Once there, my 3-year old set his sights on one ride he was determined to experience. And when it was his turn to hop on the ½ mile an hour train going in one painstakingly small circle, he was told he didn’t make the cut. Too short.

To my surprise, he didn’t seem too heartbroken. But I was. And in hopes to avoid what could easily lead to an emotional upheaval—in me more than my son—my husband quickly navigated our family to the games instead. There we were robbed blind—but at least spared more disappointment. Disaster avoided.

And then about a week ago, out of the blue, my son, Asher, asked me, “Remember when we went to the fair? And I didn’t go on any rides? I was too little.”

Just like that, the wound was fresh again. It was the first time Asher indicated that the pain from a previous experience had been internalized—and remembered. He may have been quick to hide it at the time it happened, but something about that night stuck with him. It told him he literally didn’t measure up and whatever his little mind had processed about himself as a result had taken hold.

It is every parent’s nightmare and every parent’s reality. It is going to happen. The day your child’s pain is no longer fixed with a kiss, a hug, or a distraction. When you realize your arms could never reach far enough to keep growing and wandering extensions of yourself as close as you want—or as safe as you’d like. It’s the day they grow up. And the day we dread. We can’t stop it, prevent it or fix. We simply bear it.

Soon after Asher was born I found this quote from George McDonald, “A parent,” he writes, “must respect the spiritual person of his child, and approach it with reverence, for that too looks the Father in the face and has an audience with Him into which no earthly parent can enter even if he dared to desire it.”

It’s wise advice. Respect the “personhood” of your child. They have God’s ear. But it is more than that too. On days when pain cuts our kids in ways we can only imagine (though we imagine excruciatingly well) it is good to know there is a God who is closer.

On the days when we know there is more going on inside then they are capable of—or choose—to articulate, there is a God who sees. On the days we are no longer trusted to assume their hurt—though it is clear it exists—there is a God who shoulders it instead.

I could work myself into a nervous frenzy forecasting my son’s future and the potential hurt that awaits. I could work myself into a near breakdown when I realize that many of the potential hurts will be likely realities.

Rejection. Fear. Failure. Insecurity.

These aren’t mere surface wounds. These are heartbreakers. Chances are they are coming. And certainly I won’t be able to do much—or at least enough—about them.

Which is why I am glad God can. George McDonald got it right. Respect your child’s audience with God. But also be grateful for it.

Be glad that when you can’t do for your child what you hoped you might, God can. Be thankful that it isn’t our responsibility to fix every emotional or physical bump, bruise, or cut—because our capabilities are sorely lacking.

Be deliberate about allowing God to be the parent we think we should, or wish we could be. Permit Him to do what we long to do—but what only He can do well—be their Father, their Fixer, their Healer, and their Confidant.

Sarah Anderson writes for the XP3 student curriculum at Orange. She is married to Rodney Anderson and is mom to two bouncy boys, Asher and Pace.

2

A Little Known Secret

Thursday, February 21st, 2013

As we’ve already seen earlier this week, parenting can be emotional.

I also think the combination of sleep deprivation and living in close quarters for years with several other people (an arrangement we call ‘family’) drive people to emotional depths and heights they didn’t know they had.

The idyllic picture of what family life could be (complete with picket fences and picnic baskets) slips away quickly as the sounds of malfunctioning dishwashers, endless repeats of Dora the Explorer, explosions on PS3, and voices on edge fill your home.

You wonder how you could have signed up for this.

Maybe you’re in a tough season as a parent. You know the right thing to do but don’t feel like doing it.

Been there.

There have been seasons in my life during which:

I didn’t feel like I was in love anymore, but I didn’t want to get a divorce.

I thought I didn’t have the skills I needed to be an effective parent, but I certainly didn’t want to leave my kids.

My relationship with God felt flat and even meaningless, even though I was a Christian (and in my case, a Pastor).

What do you do when you feel that way?

Here’s what I did. Being a Christian, I believed that God wanted me (in all seasons) to lead my family and love my wife.

But there were whole seasons where I didn’t feel like doing that. No surprise here, but (as I would learn as I sat down with a good counselor) the problem wasn’t as much with my wife and kids as it was with me.

Despite my struggles, in those seasons where I didn’t feel the emotions that I thought family was supposed to bring, I did one thing: I tried to stay obedient.

I didn’t leave.

I didn’t quit.

I did my best to trust that a better future would come.

I was amazed to discover what happened next. My emotions caught up to my obedience.

I came through the tough seasons when I was basically trying to do the right thing but not feeling much of anything, only to discover than my emotions came back. They caught up with my obedience.

Maybe you’re in a tough season as a parent. You know the right thing to do but don’t feel like doing it.

My encouragement? Do the right thing. Talk to someone around you (even a counselor), and try to be as obedient as you can and do what you know is right.

And here’s what I think might happen: your emotions will eventually catch up to your obedience.

Because we pushed through things, my marriage has never been better or richer. Sure, we have disagreements, but we are so thankful we didn’t call it quits when we both felt like it.

My relationship with my two sons runs stronger and deeper than I ever imagined it could. I’m so thankful I didn’t just pack up when I wanted to.

It hasn’t been easy, but now we are reaping the benefit of trying to do the right thing in hard times. And  it’s so worth it.

So hang in there, and you might discover what many have discovered. Eventually, your emotions actually do catch up to your obedience.

What about you? Have you ever experienced this?

15

Bridging the Gap

Monday, January 14th, 2013

By Sarah Anderson

The other day, by the time I walked out the door, I had already lived a thousand lifetimes. I had been awake for two hours, but was ready to crawl back in bed and request a do-over. It isn’t my favorite way to usher in daylight—with chaos, messes and more noise than my non-morning person ears can comfortably tolerate.

Every parent is familiar with those days—when the whirlwind of activity furiously descends before you can even get a sip of coffee in, and it maintains a steady speed and intensity as the hours wear on. The entirety of your waking hours is spent simply trying to catch up.  On days like these, my world seems small. Itty-bitty children small. Confined. A little claustrophobic. It is hard to feel sentimental and purposeful about my role as a mom when I can’t keep up with laundry, dishes, and the unexplicably sticky little hands tugging at me.

I read an article the other day detailing the origins and meaning behind a letter from the Hebrew alphabet, vav. Scripture mentions it for the first time in Genesis 1:1. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The letter is said to have connective meaning—like our word “and”. Heaven and earth. But it is more than that too. It is used later to refer to the hooks used to join the curtains enclosing the tabernacle—the earthly dwelling for a holy God. In other words, vav is a clasp, a bond, a method of joining what may not otherwise be fastened together. It brings two realities together and connects them—an unlikely marriage and meeting of two vastly different things.

Days like the one I recently experienced need a vav. I know two realities to be true. Life with toddlers is overwhelming and feels endless. But, life with toddlers doesn’t stay this way forever and will be over far sooner than I know. Two seemingly conflicted ideas, desperate for a hook, for something to bridge what feels like an infinite gap. The messiness of the now and the reality of what I know is coming need a bridge so I can be more present in my present.

For me, the vav comes at night. It comes when the lights are turned off and the toys are put away. It comes when I take the time to direct intentional glances towards the rooms that hold the boys who run me ragged. It comes when I realize, right before my eyes, right under my nose, right down the hall from me, miracles are unfolding. Tiny bodies are growing. Souls are aging. It comes when I can pause long enough to realize I am witness, every day, to the greatest marvel made accessible to humanity. I get to watch babies become boys—who will someday become men.

Vav for me is when I am at peace with the chaos of my days and the understanding that they will pass slower than I would like, but be over faster than I am ready for. It is when I learn to marry the disarray that can be life with toddlers to the beautiful necessity such days are to the bigger picture being created in the blur of this season. I have come to believe that every parent needs a vav—the chance to see outside the overwhelming present to the imminent future. And it is our responsibility to find it and hold fast to it.

Vav is a perspective changer. A reality grounder. And when joined rightly, and hooked correctly, it is a sanity preserver. Tomorrow may find me just as harried, just as tired, just as caffeine-needy as today. But I know, what I will find at the end of the day to make me get up and do it all again. Two sleeping boys. One grateful mama. And a God who joins them both together. A beautiful vav if I ever saw one.

Sarah Anderson writes for XP3 student curriculum at Orange.  She is married to Rodney Anderson and is mom to two bouncy boys, Asher and Pace.

7

New Year, New Heart

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

So it’s a brand new year. Here’s a question to kick off 2013.

How’s your heart?

The heart is pretty vital. It’s what we live out of really; it’s the wellspring of life. Our hearts help us feel the highs and lows, navigate wonder and mystery, keep our imaginations stimulated and our dreams alive. It is the place where hope and faith live.

While I don’t know about you, I have found that the longer I live, the more intentional I have to be at keeping my heart open and fully alive.

I think that’s true for a lot of parents. When you’re in your twenties, your marriage is fresh, being a parent is cool. . .sort of, except for the sleepless nights. But you hit the wall of real life somewhere in your thirties or forties and a natural casualty is your heart.

For almost all of us, as time goes on something happens to your heart.

It gets hard.

You grow cynical.

It stops beating the way it used to.

Too many disappointments.

Too many people let you down.

Too many hopes dashed.

Too much fear that maybe your family isn’t turning out the way you once dreamed.

The signs of a hardened heart start subtly but eventually become hard to miss:

You don’t really celebrate and you don’t really cry.

You stop genuinely caring.

What used to be meaningful is now mechanical. Everything that used to be fun is now an obligation.

Passion is hard to come by. For anything. Including your marriage.

You no longer believe the best about people. Even when you meet someone, you’re thinking about what’s going to go wrong, not what’s going to go right.

So how do you get your heart beating again? Believe it or not, you can get your heart back in 2013. It will beat again.

Here are five ways to renew your heart:

1. Push past your feelings. Sure, there are seasons where what’s supposed to be meaningful feels mechanical. Do it anyway. Go to work. Kiss your spouse. Hang out with your kids. Read your Bible. Pray (even if you feel you’re talking to the ceiling). Just because you don’t feel like it’s real doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Eventually, your emotions will catch up to your obedience.

2. Get some rest. Fatigue and overwork can numb your heart. Sometimes I find my heart grows hard because I’m not resting. Get eight hours sleep for a week. Take a day off and do something you love—like going on a hike, exploring a city or reading a great book. Even God took a Sabbath. If you don’t take the Sabbath, the Sabbath will take you.

3. Don’t over-personalize your failures and successes. My kids remind me all the time that I can take things too personally. They’re right. If your life is going well, it might not be because you’re so awesome. And if things are sputtering, it might not be because your so incompetent. Take the long view.

4. Decide to trust, again. This one is huge. Because most of us are once-bitten, twice-shy, it’s so important to consciously re-engage your heart and trust people again. Someone may have hurt you, but not everyone will. Yes, you will be vulnerable, but trust again. God did. And still does. Jesus’ arms were wide open when he died, despite the pain of the wounds and the scars.

5. Fight isolation. Community is the problem for most of us (it’s hard to get hurt all by yourself). But community is also the solution. You will want to be alone. Don’t. Solitude is used by God. Isolation is used by the enemy. Talk to God. And talk to a friend. Find a mentor. Process privately while leading publicly. And yes, sometimes go see a counselor. My very first trip to a counselor over ten years ago happened because I realized my heart had gone hard. We were coming out of a very difficult time as a church and it really impacted my marriage. The counsellor’s help was providential. Time with a counselor is one of the reasons my heart still beats and can still leap and soar today.

So those are some ideas that can help you care for your own heart.

I don’t know which method for renewal resonated most with you, but I do know this:  your heart can become new again.

And one day, you’ll look back on this season when your kids were young and be so thankful you did what you needed to do to get your heart healthy again. It’s not just an investment in them—it’s an investment in you.

What’s helped your heart find new life in a tough season?

3

Look Out Your Window

Thursday, December 13th, 2012

by an Orange Parent

As I continue down this crazy journey called “parenting,” I keep discovering that it isn’t just about me. Case in point, this year for Christmas I wanted to come up with something neat that my eight-year old daughter and I could do together to let someone know they are loved.

But, I was kind of stumped. I mean, there are so many people in need all over the world and in the city, I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t know what kind of things I could take an eight-year-old girl to as well (the local shelter suggested kids be at least thirteen before volunteering). I basically was on the verge of doing nothing because there was so much to do, and I was feeling all of this pressure to do something “extraordinary” and come up with it on my own.

So, one day, my daughter and I were in the car headed in to the city when I say, “I‘ve been trying to think of something for you and me to do together this Christmas that would let someone else know how loved they are, but I can’t think of anything. Can you?”

At first, she was silent. So, I asked her, “I mean, can you think of anyone who might need to be loved on this Christmas? You know, so they know that they’re loved?” And just as I finished that sentence, I pulled up to the tollbooth we always go through. And my daughter, looking out her window and seeing the woman in the toll booth (who I wasn’t paying a lick of attention to), said, “What about these guys?”  To which I replied, “Who?” “These guys,” she said, pointing at all of the tollbooth operators.

And, in a moment I am not proud of, I said, “The tollbooth operators?” like my daughter had just suggested I run down the highway naked. But she calmly said, “Yeah, I mean. . .they’re all alone in those boxes. What if they have to be in there on Christmas Eve? We should do something for them and let them know we hope they have a Merry Christmas.” I responded with my own silence.

See, my daughter did something that I think I am constantly failing to do. Stop, look around, and see who is standing right next to me. She simply looked outside her window and saw a “neighbor” who might need some reminding that they are loved and remembered.

We don’t know anything about these tollbooth operators. They might not be in need of anything. . . but then again. . .they might be.

Upon my daughter’s recommendation, we are going to go buy all six toll booth operators a gift, and on Christmas Eve around 11pm, we are going to drive up and down the highway so she can wish each operator a Merry Christmas and, in her own words, “Remind them they are loved.” Just because. Who knows what that might do in their lives.

So, I learned two things. First, when it comes to teaching and raising my children, maybe I don’t have to do it all on my own. Maybe part of raising my children is simply listening to them and helping them work through some of their own ideas. And second, I learned that showing compassion doesn’t always have to be a huge and difficult thing. Sometimes showing compassion is as simple as looking out your window and doing something for the people right in front of you.

This Christmas take some time to find those people who you might otherwise ignore and let them know you value them. Just because.

7

The Gift of Compassion

Tuesday, December 11th, 2012

When your kids hear “Jingle Bells” and see Santa, what’s their first thought? Getting? Or giving? We might be surprised at how fully our children and teens understand the real meaning of Christmas. While we’re sometimes perplexed by the commercialism and the “lost meaning,” kids often have an easier time connecting Christmas and all its ornamentation to the compassionate promise of Jesus. They approach it in a much more simple way: God loved the world so much that He gave us Jesus, and that’s what Christmas is all about. Santa gives. Mom and Dad give. Even the jingle bell ringer in front of the mall is receiving just so he or she can give to others.

When we have compassion, we connect deeply enough with others to really feel what they’re going through. Because we feel what they feel, we’re moved to act in a way that can bring hope and practical relief to them. That can be a pretty big concept for young children, but even the youngest have experienced enough that they get it when we point out how a difficult situation makes life hard for someone in need.

Compassion is “caring enough to do something about someone else’s need.” From the earliest age, we can train our kids to look for the needs around them, then to think about ways they can help meet those needs. Christmas is the perfect time to do that. It’s almost like the entire society, from the music we hear on the radio to the displays set up in the mall, is set up to help us demonstrate this one principle in our families: one of the best ways we can show we love Jesus is by loving others.

As you make your holiday rounds, find ways to let your children see the needs of others, then go the extra step with them in meeting those needs in meaningful ways. Get personally involved, and make sure your children are right beside you in appropriate ways. The meaning of Christmas isn’t as hidden as we sometimes think: the gracious, compassionate Gift of God is all around us.

For more on talking to you your kids about the idea compassion and what we are talking about at 252 Basics this month, go the newfeed.

What are some ways that you and your kids are showing compassion to others this Christmas?

1

Five Tensions Task-Oriented Parents Face

Monday, December 3rd, 2012

I remember taking a personality profile for work shortly after I started into my first full-time job.

It told me what I already suspected: When it comes to working on a task or spending time with people, I’ll almost always choose the task. I actually do value relationships, but I default toward task.

That’s not a bad thing. Work gets done. Life stays on track. And organizations and causes advance when people focus on tasks.

What I didn’t realize at the time was how much my bias toward tasks over people would impact my family life. Sure, all you relationship people could see that coming a mile away, but us task people kind of miss that stuff.

It was a bit of a surprise to me that what can get you ahead at work can easily help you fall behind at home.

While being a task-oriented person has it’s advantages, it really impacts the kind of spouse you will be and the kind of parent you will be.

It gets particularly challenging if, like me, you have a wife and kids who (thankfully) see the deep value in relationship.

I’ve gotten better at managing this tension over the years. But it only happened because I realized the limits of what task-orientation brought to my world at home.

So, what do task people struggle with at home? It may be different for each of us, but here are five tension points I’ve struggled with as a dad and husband:

I saw people as interruptions rather than priorities. That’s difficult to say out loud, but it’s true. I think it’s just a default wiring task people have to overcome. It gets particularly bad when those relationships are your wife and kids.

I tended to see my family as projects rather than people. Trust me, that was never my goal. But it was a by-product of my style. I know that I was tempted to want my kids to achieve—to have top grades, keep their rooms clean, never get into trouble. All of those are decent goals, but task people can miss the nuances in relationships and end up treating their kids (and spouses) as projects, not people. This, by the way, is the gateway into conditional love and conditional acceptance. You don’t want to go there.

I misunderstood days off. Days off were just opportunities to do new projects right? Apparently not. If I went with my default, I would have missed some of the richest times I could spend with my family.

I thought everyone spoke my love language. If you want to make me smile, give me words of affirmation and acts of service. So, I just thought the rest of the world ran off of the same fuel. Try marrying someone whose love language is quality time. And having a couple of kids who value that too. I had to learn that all the words of affirmation and acts of service I sent their way would never mean the same thing as unstructured, quality time.

I found it hard to focus. My mind races. So, when I let my default style go unchecked, I found it almost impossible to be “in the moment.” I was always thinking about what had to get done next, a big project I was working on, or what had to get fixed.

In the next post, I’ll share some steps I took to help combat the tension a task orientation creates.

But in the meantime, which of these points resonate with you? What other areas do you struggle with?

And for those of you who are relationship people, what bothers you most about those of us with a task orientation?

20
« Older Entries