The Forest for the trees....What are you missing out on?

I have always dreamed of turning left on the plane instead of right and being (just once) in those business class beds. It’s kind of on my bucket list. I have always felt it would be such an experience to lay down flat on a plane and sleep the trip away. However, I feel very blessed and privileged to do a lot of travel for my job/ministry. I do love travel for many reasons and I don't even mind the long plane trips because they are a means to an end and a great chance to catch up on movies. However, I have always been very jealous of those who can sleep on a plane. I watch people, sitting upright, eye-patch on and away they go. I get very little sleep on the whole, travelling, so movies help me pass the time as my legs go crazy, my bottom is aching and I feel like I am constantly moving and tossing. I don't need much sleep to function, so basically it is not a big deal and I always seem to catch up. 

But this trip, I had just finished a 15 hour haul from Sydney to Doha and it was midnight. The next flight was a short leg, 6 hours through the night, to land me in the morning in Budapest for a conference that was to start that day. An opportunity came up where I could be upgraded and this never really happens to me. I was so excited. Finally I would be able to experience lying down and sleeping. It was perfect timing. I would be fresh, ready to go to conference AND fulfil a dream I had had for a long time. They announced the boarding, I was internally busting with joy and anticipation. They boarded everyone and left business class till last. They were robbing me of minutes of this experience. I only had 6 hours …”come on, come on” my tired restless soul was saying. Then they finally called me and we were put on a separate minibus to be taken to the plane. There were only two of us. We drove to the other side of the tarmac, past the big planes, past the middle sized planes, past the smaller planes, to come to a very small plane. It was our plane and immediately my heart sank into my stomach. As I walked up the gangplank I was greeted so happily by the attendants. I turned RIGHT to find that it was just a glorified chair, a bit bigger than the normal economy seats.

Well, I have to be honest and say I cried and cried and cried. The attendant was trying to help me with my bags as he could see that I was upset. Eventually he said he would give me some space as it looked like I needed it so he left me with a wine menu bigger than most restaurants and the food menu. Still, I could not stop crying. People were passing us to go to their economy seats in the next section and goodness knows what they thought. I could not stop crying. I was so disappointed, so deflated, so embarrassed. If they knew why I was crying, they would think I was pathetic and rightly so. 

The attendant approached me carefully and asked me if I wanted a hot towel. No thanks. Did I want a drink? No thanks. Have you looked at the menu? No thanks. We’ll serve it to you anytime you request? Can I get you anything? No thanks. Here’s your beautiful, fluffy, ‘purple’ blanket. I didn't want to eat, drink or be served. I WANTED A BED, and nothing else would suffice. 

It was clear he was not going to give up. He was doing all he could to make me happy. When I opened the menu, it was a 4 course meal. So I did what many girls like me do when they are upset, they eat it ALL.  At 1am in the morning, this was the last thing I needed, on so many levelsbut clearly I wasn’t going to sleep, so what else could I do? There didn’t seem to be a screen for movies, but I was crying too much to think about it anyway. And then the service began. They put a table cloth over my little table, put the little (cute) salt and

pepper shakers on one side, a basket of hot breads to choose from, a real knife and fork, the whole deal. Every time I finished my cup of tea, in a real cup, they filled it up, just the way I liked it, because they remembered and aimed to serve me very personally. The meals looked like a chef had prepared them and I just kept eating and CRYING.  I felt so sick after the meal that I still couldn't sleep or get comfortable. They asked when I wanted to be woken (as if I was going to sleep) for breakfast and then left me.

After a while I got up to peek into economy and saw that they all had screens and where watching movies. This can’t be right, why didn’t I have one? Then with a bit of exploring, through blurry eyes, I found there was a small screen in the arm of my chair. I couldn’t understand why the back of the chair in front was a blank floral design, but a big space. WHY wasn’t there a BIG screen there? There were only 7 movies to choose from. Through blood shot eyes I tried to watch something and it wasn’t long before the table cloth came out again and the full service breakfast began. I was so full of food, but I was still upset … so maybe an omelet with mushrooms and tomato would help.

I got off the plane first. I’ve never done that before. I was so worried they were going to ask me why I was so upset. I mean, what would I say? I got to customs first and walked right through and you’d think I’d be happy and see all these “firsts” … but I stood at the baggage claim still crying. Just when I felt like I had composed myself, I turned my phone on to see David’s (my husband) message “How was Business Class?” to which I fell apart again. 

I know this is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. I mean, who cries when being served a 5 star meal on a plane and being treated so well  … when all I wanted was a bed! How ungrateful I was. What was wrong with me?  There’s a saying that goes “you can't see the forest for the trees.” I was so caught up in what I wanted that I couldn't enjoy the things that were all around me. I work with people and kids all the time and get so frustrated at the things they simply can’t be happy for and instead hold onto the one thing they want and can’t have. Well, that was me! I couldn't believe how paralysed I was by my own selfish wants, that I just couldn't get past it. There are some things going on in my life that could justify my ridiculous response, but even so, it was still a case of being so blinded by “selfish” wants that I simply couldn't enjoy any of the experience at all. And that is a sad reality. This is not a good way to live. 

What did I learn from this experience, other than the fact that I am ridiculous, is that that there is no point trying to reason with someone while they are in this state, or trying to help them see how blessed they are. It will fall on deaf ears. I learned that the steward did the RIGHT thing. He didn't try to reason with me, but gave me space and kindness. I learned that self-reflection after the event is a good tool to get perspective and this is the place and time to learn from the experience. God made sure I learned that as on the plane trip home I walked past ALL the beds to get out of the plane from Economy class, and I was able to smile about it. I learned that even saying it out loud to someone helps you see the silliness of the situation and helps you begin to see the “forest for the trees”, so walking alone is never a good option. No one is perfect, there will always be something that happens when you least expect it and at times you will respond inappropriately. Forgive yourself quickly, but learn from it and make the changes necessary to move forward. If you don't you will miss the beautiful forest that awaits you. What are you missing out on? 

The "Parent" Dance

In England, there is a famous “ritual” called the “Changing of

the guard”. It is a very clear signal of change. The old guard forms on the north side and the new guard forms on the south side, a royal salute signals the handing over of the old guard and the new guard. There is a sequence, everyone knows, there are no surprises, nothing unsure. The march is set and the change is clearly complete. It is full of intentionality, ceremony, celebration and pride. It is done with expertise, precision and it is very clear, the old guard is OFF and the new guard is ON.  People travel from all over the world to see it, but it is more than ceremony, it is fulfilling a very important job of protecting the monarchy of England. 

There are many times as a parent, that the duty is clear, the “march” is set out, the change is obvious. The times in life where your child starts school, moves from primary school to high school, when they can drive, from a legal perspective when they can drink alcohol, when they are legally able to go to a club, when they move from single to married. These are obvious signs of the “change”, the old has gone the new has come, things have changed. We (or maybe it is just me) like to live in the black and white zone … knowing what is right and wrong, what is a YES and NO, what has come and gone, where we stand, basically on everything. It is so much easier. 

And YET… parenting is more often than not, a DANCE, rather than the “Changing of the guard.” I can just see the comical portrayal of what the “Changing of the Guard” would look like as a dance; a back and forward, teetering from ‘yes’ to ‘no’ to ‘yes’ to ‘maybe’ to ‘are you sure’ to ‘YES’ to ‘rack off’ to ‘if I have to” to “no.” I probably lost most of you then, but that is the dance that goes on in my head as a parent of teenagers learning to become adults. 

The challenging, yet never boring “dance” of a parent who longs to walk alongside their child, empowering them to become an adult and yet never quite knowing which step to take at times, to lead them towards the end goal.  Never quite knowing when we are leading or following, coming or going, listening or speaking, stepping up or stepping out, and at any time a quick “change step” must happen, which often takes you by surprise.

I wonder what that looks like in your world?   For my world, it’s the time where she wants her independence shopping, until she wants me to go to the toilet with her, or when she wants me to pay for something. It’s the time when he wants to stay out late as long as he wants, until he needs a lift home and we are to drop everything and go and get him. The time when she can drive and have independence until she crashes and needs saving to get back on her feet again. The time where he moves out, until he gets stuck and needs to save more money so he wants to come back home. The time when you can’t touch her or say anything, until she snuggles into you or wants you to say she looks great, and you clearly didn't get the memo. We have all been there. Oh, the dance we dance, when “no” is not always “no” and “yes” is not always “yes” and more importantly when “no” is actually “yes”.

I have recently had the privilege of being intricately involved in the last week of a young woman getting married, the last night in the house before moving into her new house with her new husband, the many preparations of the ‘changing of the guard”, from single to married. And while the changes are clear, the ceremony is well rehearsed, there is pride, celebration and joy, yet it is not without the ‘dance’. It is an interesting place as a parent to say goodbye to your child to marriage, to understand that the rules have changed and to navigate the dance well.  I have watched this family up close. It has been a privileged and a blessing to get this glimpse, before I will dance this particular dance myself in the future. 

That last night in the house, the final signals that a change is about to happen, the joy and sadness all mixed in together. The look of confidence on the new bride as she has everything organised and ready, until one thing goes wrong and she looks at her mum with eyes that say “fix it”. The beauty of dad walking (marching) his little girl down the aisle to the new man in her life and the words she utters beforehand - “don't look at me and I won’t look at you” - for they know they will both be crying with deep emotions that will distract them from this moment. That first dance, as a new bride and groom, which signals the last dance for Daddy to dance with his little girl. Of course, she will always be his little girl, but on this day some things have defiantly changed. Even on this day, where the “changing of the guard” is clear, it’s still a “parent’s dance”, it is exhausting and not easy to do well. But when done well, like any dance, it is beautiful, graceful and a joy to watch.

For a parent, I am not sure if it ever stops. For me this dance has only begun in the last few years, so I am still learning how to navigate it well. But one thing I do know, it is worth it, learning to dance it well. The cost is too high, not to. I have seen too many times when relationships and connections are lost because parents could not dance the dance well. 

I think it helps to name it, talk about it and acknowledge the “dance”. It is a start anyway. It is great to learn and watch others who have gone before and know that even when we mess up the steps, we can still choose to dance again. While I have seen it first-hand recently, it has reminded me of how well my mother and father danced the dance and the strong foundation that has given me over the years. I am so thankful for them and what they have taught me. The challenge is to simply keep getting better at the dance, and that requires practice, practice and practice. So, stay in the dance and never give up. Your relationship with your children is worth it and the gift you give them is a strong foundation to dance their own dance in time.

Low batteries this Christmas......

You know when the battery on your phone is starting to go and it just doesn't have the power it used to have.  You continue to charge it but it doesn't last the day, it seems to lose its power much quicker as each day goes on.  I have heard people say that’s when you need a new phone or new battery, the old one just doesn't work the same anymore.  Many people have no problem with throwing away the old and getting the new, latest one. I grew up with a dad who always lived in such a way that he held onto things and used them right up until they didn't work anymore. He would revive and refresh and re-fix everything over and over again. But what if it can’t be fixed? What if there are some things that have to die and new things that must be made new?

This year I limp into Christmas, with a broken heart that just doesn't seem able to re-charge. It is 8 weeks since my dad suddenly died and left me with a very big hole in my life. Right now, no amount of work, cheer, distraction, friends, family and even food seems to fill the hole for very long. The battery is low and as Christmas day looms, my “charge” grows weaker.

I think so many of us run so hard all year, that we limp into Christmas Holidays with a low battery. Sometimes that is self-inflicted and then other times it is due to circumstances and events that are beyond our control. And yet as a Pastor/Minister it is up to me to put a smile on my face and lead others in the message of Christmas. The message of love, joy, peace and hope. 

I can’t help but wonder if God’s plan for love and peace and joy and hope was thwarted so many times that His battery got so low that he decided the world needed something new, that something had to die for new hope to be birthed.

Jesus coming to this earth as a baby was such a new story, one the world had never seen. God in the form of a human, living and giving in the most extraordinary ways, until He chose to die on a cross and rise again for our us, in order to bring love, joy, peace and hope. And this new thing all began that very first Christmas.

Some things cannot be revived, refreshed or re-fixed. The batteries will just not charge like they used to and sometimes we do need something new. My dad is gone and he will not come back. I miss him every day, all the things that he fixed, remade, refreshed, revived over the years are now being thrown away and eventually the traces of my dad will be only in our memories. I know I am blessed to have such beautiful ones. It is a painful process saying “goodbye”. I believe that Dad is already refreshed, revived, renewed … but we have to go on.

So where does that leave me? I choose joy, love, hope and peace. I choose to be reminded this Christmas of the wonderful story where God came into this world to do a new thing, so that we might leave the old and step into the new. I choose to believe that God’s plan has never changed and that, like my father’s faith, I hold onto it, even when I am limping. If Dad were here he would be pragmatic enough to accept that God has it all in hand and that we have to simply do the best we can for the time we are here in these mortal bodies. I am not sure if he would be able to throw the phone out. I am sure he would try to fix it, but, hey, maybe 2018 it will be time for a new phone. Or at least I certainly hope it will be a year where HIS joy, peace and love will sustain me and help my batteries to re-charge.

I pray if you are limping into Christmas and your batteries are low, that the message of Christmas will re-charge and revive you. There is hope, joy peace and love to be found in the birth of Jesus.  You simply have to choose it.