"...because he is afraid of humans."

A couple days ago I was in the midst of a busy getting-everybody-ready-for-school frenzy and I was sitting on the end of a bed with a pile of clothes.  For some reason every step of progress that morning was feeling like a battle.  I called again. "Please come here so I can help you get dressed!"  In response to my request, I watched this child scoot further into a corner and then peek out from behind a basket of toys and say, "ruff ruff."
One of my daughters poked her head out of the closet and said, "Mama.  He is a puppy and he can't come to you because he is the kind of puppy that is afraid of humans."

Oh my word.  It is a really good thing that I have kids to help me interpret my kids.  I thought about this predicament for a minute and then I said in a falsetto voice, "Baby Puppy!  This is your Mamma Doggie!  Please come here so I can help you put on your puppy undos!"  Immediately, my puppy came quickly on all fours, and happily allowed me to help him get dressed, smiling the whole time and saying "Ruff Ruff!" so that I wouldn't forget what kind of creature he was in that moment.  We moved from that to "Puppy breakfast" and "Puppy paw washing"  and taking people to "puppy school"  and my whole morning shifted from challenging to smooth once I knew what language we were speaking.
My people keep me on my toes... because you know, tomorrow isn't going to be a puppy morning.  We might never have a puppy morning again.  Dragons, Dinosaurs, Ninjas, Firefighters....  I never know.

Kids make life so... interesting.  But you know, grown-ups really aren't much different.

We tend to be more dignified and complicated... but we long to be understood.  I can recall a couple of really significant emotionally charged discussions with my husband that made a quick shift when I suddenly felt like he understood me, even if he didn't agree.

Shortly after we combined households my mom and I had a disagreement. Going into the discussion I had felt like it was really important for her to see why she was wrong so that she could change.  (I know, for some reason I get that in my head sometimes.  What this world really needs is a reformed Grandma, and I'm on my mission.) Somewhere in the midst of our conversation I had a deeper realization that my mom felt alone and afraid.  She left behind her home of 36 years, her friends, and her church family.  There is so much uncertainty with my dad's health and future and she is trying to navigate that.  Suddenly it didn't seem so important to make sure she understood me.  When I had eyes to see where she was coming from, I could just say, "This is hard and I'm sorry.  We are here."  And I can tell her that we are here for her and we are, but that doesn't change the fact that it's hard.

So once again, in a different way, I have seen the importance of seeking to understand before making sure that I'm understood.  There will be other days and other conversations that will need to be resolved differently, but this time, this is what we both needed.

In case you are curious, both my parents are reading this blog.  We are committed to working through the difficulties together and I am committed to writing about the difficulties in a way that honors and respects them.  I don't know how that's going to work, but I also know that this blog is only going to be meaningful if we are willing to talk about the hard parts.  I want to be able to talk about the challenges and how we deal with them.  That's the hard part of hard things... they are hard.  But we know that God is with us and that as we learn and grow together we don't have to be afraid of the things that are hard.  We know that His strength will be sufficient for each step.