“SHUT UP! Stop being stupid!”

WHA???

This immediately triggered my childhood memories. My mother was an exhausted single mom of three trying to make ends meet and though she did her best, Anne Lamott says it best in her book Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith:

“Her best was just terrible.”

She never told me she loved us.
Her actions reminded us daily that her love was conditional.
If we asked a question, we were “stubborn” or “stupid“.
If we questioned HER, we’d get a slap in the face.
When I started experimenting with make-up, I was “ugly“.
When I made the cheer squad and tried my uniform on my 110lbs. frame for the first time, I was “fat“.
Brought home an A… “Why didn’t you get an A+?”
Coming home 3 minutes late once resulted in a beat-down right at the entryway of our house.

Rarely did I hear words of affirmation. Rarely Never did I hear the words “I’m sorry.”

This is not a post about my Mom though. No one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes. And though my mother and I don’t have much of a relationship today, I have long forgiven her for her incapabilities. We ALL deserve second chances.

This is a post about the long-term effects of our words to our children. Live humans that God puts in our care for a very short time. And as a parent now… I promise you I am far from perfect. I’ve often responded the wrong way more times than I care to admit.

I’ve yelled.
I’ve gotten overly angry at small, petty things.
Lectured for a few minutes too long.
Unnecessarily lectured.
I’ve even forgotten I put one of the kids in timeout so they had an EXTRA-long timeout. Oops.

But I have never, and WILL NEVER call my kids “stupid” and I will NEVER say “SHUT UP!” to them.

Brian and I have spent thousands of dollars on counseling to untangle the lies I believe about myself… because one person spoke them into me. As many of you know, it is ridiculously difficult to re-weave truth into your life when lies are strongly woven into your soul in your youth. You have to go back through the old layers and unweave the lies. So many layers. It’s basically surgery. And I, for one, refuse to do that to my children.

My kids will probably go to counseling about other ridiculous things I do, like embarrass them by dancing or singing loudly in public or my obsessive need for organization and cleanliness… but they won’t ever question their worth or that I love them greatly.

YOU have a responsibility to the next generation. Really. You do.

Don’t be a jerk!
Watch your mouth. Watch your actions.
Those kids don’t belong to you.
They are on LOAN!

We go there because they don’t charge you to go sit on Santa’s lap and you can take your own photos. They take everyone’s photos there but they don’t force you to purchase their photos.

We’ve never purchased their photos. The ones I take have always turned out great… till this year because THEY took the PERFECT photo. Both Brian and I agreed to buy just ONE photo for our scrapbook:

I KNOW, RIGHT???

Paxton walked straight up to Santa and said, “Hi Anta! HI!” and Chance just hugged him like a long-time friend.

My boys have come a long way since this photo two years ago:

When I look at this photo, I feel like nothing could ever go wrong in the world.

The last time I ever took a photo with Santa was when I was 19. In hindsight… that’s kinda weird.

When’s the last time you took a photo with Santa?
Don’t lie!

Since I’m the oldest sister, that only makes me, well, older… so I won’t be making fun of her age. No ma’am. But I am thankful she was born 30 years ago. Yes, I am.

The last 5 years with my sister Renee has been better than the 25 years before that. And the last TWO years were better than the first 3 of the 5. With the way we were raised, we didn’t have much hope of having much of a relationship (some being my choice, some hers, but most being our surroundings)… but God had different plans.

In restoring so many other parts of my life, He also wanted to show me how much my relationship with Renee could mean to me. I’m only getting a glimpse right now… but I can honestly say, now that I’ve had a taste of true kinship with Nae. And it’s sweet. Fun. Carefree.

I like.

Anyway… I wanted to do something really special for her 30th birthday this year, but we’re pretty strapped financially. So, I did the next best thing.

If you know Renee, you’ll know she LOVES to laugh. And if you can get her to laugh so hard she almost pees her pants?… even better. This was a job for JibJab.

The men in this video are: Jason (Renee’s husband), Jesse (our new brother-in-law, property of our baby sister, Helen), Brian, Chance & Paxton.

Happy Birthday, Nae. I love you more than you’ll ever know. I wish I could be there with you on this special day… but know I’m thinking about you from here.

What’s the silliest/funniest/lamest/cheapest/most expensive/favorite gift you got for your family?

Here’s a picture of Morgan Lake & the Grande Ronde Valley taken right above where his parents house.

Just about everyone was there. All his kids, most of his grandkids and great-grandkids. We all ate, hiked, laughed, chatted and just soaked in the time we had together.

At one point, I was sitting at the dining room table in a pretty deep conversation with my amazing Mom-in-law, Aunt-in-law & Cousin-in-law (Nevermind the “in-law” title. They’re more family than I’ve ever hoped or dreamed of) and looked over to see Grandma Peggy rubbing her sons’ feet… then her daughters’. In that moment, I realized I was sitting in the midst of grace.

Maybe it’s just me, but it was completely foreign to me for the matriarch of the family to be serving her children still. LITERALLY rubbing their feet. That would NEVER have happened in the family I grew up in. Grandma Peggy’s love for them didn’t stop once they were potty-trained or moved out of the house. Her love continued into adulthood. A simple act of servanthood to express that her children will forever have her heart.

For a minute, I mourned.

I mourned the loss of something I never had. Something I WISHED I had. I want to pass that down to my children, but how do I do that when I haven’t ever experienced it.

Then the Lord gently reminded me:

It will no longer be said to you, “Forsaken,”
Nor to your land will it any longer be said, “Desolate”;
But you will be called, “My delight is in her,”
And your land, “Married”;
For the LORD delights in you,
And to Him your land will be married.
And as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
So your God will rejoice over you.
~ Isaiah 62:4-5b ~

I heard God whisper sweetly into my heart (as only He can):

“The generational sins of your mother do not define you, Jenni. I do. Now look in front of you and live the life I have set out for you.”

THIS IS MY SECOND CHANCE! This is where I learn to do it right. For my kids. For my husband. For me.

I get a new name. I’ve had a new name for quite some time now. Not because of anything I’ve done… but because of WHO GOD IS. Because God DELIGHTS in me.

In my marriage, I have a new family. One who will teach those who are ready and hungry to learn. And that, I am.

I am not desolate.
I am not forsaken.
I am not deso-saken.
Not anymore.

I belong. Not only to Someone, but to the #ClayvilleClan (yes, I just hashtagged that)… just as God has always planned for me.

When I am 89, I look forward to looking around and seeing my family gathered around me… with ME rubbing THEIR feet. I will delight in my children… and my children’s children.

I may not remember every day, but today, I know:
I am rejoiced over…

… and so are YOU!

–verb (used with object)
1. to grant pardon for or remission of (an offense, debt, etc.); absolve.
2. to give up all claim on account of; remit (a debt, obligation, etc.).
3. to grant pardon to (a person).
4. to cease to feel resentment against: to forgive one’s enemies.
5. to cancel an indebtedness or liability of: to forgive the interest owed on a loan.
–verb (used without object)
6. to pardon an offense or an offender.

We Christ followers talk about forgiveness a lot. We tell each other we NEED to do it or it will just eat us up inside. We hear stories of other people forgiving other people and blessings pouring in because of it. But when it comes to OUR lives and what it means to forgive, that’s when the word “forgive” becomes an impossible action.

When I did the unforgivable, Brian graciously forgave me. Not immediately… but after he processed what it really meant to forgive… he CHOSE to. He didn’t HAVE to… but he CHOSE to. Many people forgave me. Brian’s family, my sisters, my Dad, our friends. They CHOSE grace over judgment on me.

All except one.

My mother hasn’t forgiven me. I doubt she ever will.

I’ve caused her great embarrassment. Children are an extension of the parent and I am one seriously tangled mess of an extension cord. I’m no longer a viable showpiece because I’ve revealed the “wizard of oz” behind the curtain… and the reality is I’m nothing great. I’ve failed her. And that’s all I know because she hasn’t spoken to me since August 2009.

But here’s where I’m gonna get real with you. I’m gonna show my ugly and I’ll be honest… I’m a little scared right now. But, I’m gonna do it anyway (please be gentle).

I have NO right to ask for her forgiveness. I don’t have ANY place to receive it even if it was offered…

… because I haven’t forgiven her either.

Most of my counseling time is spent working through my childhood and how that’s manifested it’s way into my adulthood, relationship with Brian, and relationship with my children. 75% of my therapy time is spent digging up painful memories of how my mother treated me, looking at it, mourning it, and letting it go.

I’m not blaming my mother OR my past for my adult actions. However, how can you really change if you’ve never gone back to look at the problem face-to-face? I’ve NEVER grieved anything or allowed myself to FEEL. And I don’t want to live the rest of my life like that.

In Matthew 26:28, Jesus says:

“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

So… here’s the hard part. Forgiveness isn’t just for me. Forgiveness isn’t just for those who forgive me. Forgiveness is for EVERYONE who chooses Him. Forgiveness is for those who haven’t or will not forgive me. Not forgiving my mother is like drinking poison and waiting for HER to die. So, I need to forgive…

… every disapproving look, sneer, grunt, glare.
… every time I was called ugly, fat, stupid, “the devil”.
… every slap in the face & body-slam into the walls.
… every weeklong silent treatment.
… EVERY wrong ever committed against the childhood me.

… not because I “have” to… but because I’ve been FORGIVEN by the Greatest. And so has she.

So, why do I still have the bottle of poison at my lips?

It didn’t matter if I told the truth or not… if my mother came home in a bad mood, and the surroundings weren’t exactly to her liking, you’d have to brace yourself. Most of the time, we braced ourselves emotionally… because my mother’s WORDS were her ammunition of choice, shooting at us fast and for long periods of time (I think my longest “lecture” of being told I was a waste of space lasted 5 hours on a Saturday). But if we weren’t careful with the WORDS we exchanged with her, we would also have to brace ourselves physically.

By the age of 10, I had not only learned to angle my body “just right” to protect more and hurt less from a “spanking”… but I had also carefully crafted my speech (and sometimes lack of) to manipulate situations with my mother so that I could avoid being shot at with her WORDS. And when I was “shot at”, I learned to angle my heart “just right” so I could protect more and hurt less.

When you grow up this way, you learn one of two things:

1.  WORDS mean EVERYTHING and you live life CARING too much what people say.
… or …
2.  WORDS mean NOTHING and you live life not BELIEVING what people say.

I am the second.

My LifeGroup Online is reading through the Bible right now and something that really struck me is how much WORDS meant in Old Testament time. Your WORD was your WORD. There was no need for a signed contract or need to doubt that someone might be lying because if they spoke it… it WAS. Their WORDS were blessings or they were curses. But what they said was final.

In Bible times, nations rose through the blessings of a father. I can no longer guard my heart from WORDS that curse… because in doing so, I’m causing more damage. By not allowing WORDS to bless me, I’m stunting my potential growth. I also cannot continue to allow my WORDS to be protective shield. By not allowing my WORDS to bless others, I’m prohibiting God from using me as He created me.

My WORDS are no longer my source of survival. They’re much more than that… I need to be intentional about my WORDS to my husband, to my children, to my family and to my friends.

My WORDS must bless… not curse.
My WORDS must encourage… not tear down.
My WORDS must instill truth… not stir-up lies.

What do YOUR WORDS do?