Conversational Parenting from Mary DeMuth

Marcus here. As HighCallingBlogs.com gradually learns to walk, we’ve been connecting with some of our bloggers in particularly unique ways. Mary DeMuth is one of those. She blogs at Relevant Blog about writing, parenting, faith, work, and a myriad of things. Best of all, Mary is a really, really good writer.

I had lunch with her in New York City a year ago at the Book Expo America when she was promoting her new book Authentic Parenting. Good book. In fact, I just checked Amazon. Would you believe EVERY SINGLE reviewer gives the book five stars? It really is an amazing book.

Even though she’s currently in Africa on a mission trip, she’s letting us run an excerpt over at TheHighCalling.org this week. (The wonders of the internet!) Her article definitely worth a read. It starts out like this:

Conversational parenting is both spontaneous and purposeful. Life and connection do happen in the margins of life, where little planning occurs, but being purposeful also helps communication immensely. Consider these two scenarios: Read More.

(On a side note, Mary is also one of the featured speakers at a week long session of Laity Lodge Family Camp this August. Visit LLFamilyCamp.org to learn more about our program there, or click here to register online.)

In the Shadow of the Man

Drew Hill is a new blogger to our network. He has an easygoing and honest writing voice. Recently he told us the story of how his first son was born the same year his father died. 19 years later, he still lives, joyfully, in the shadow of his father.

Nineteen years ago my world changed. Nineteen years ago my son was born, my father died. “Goodbye, Dad.” “Well, hello, Little Guy.” Nineteen Father’s Days have come and gone since I stopped reaching up and started reaching down, and nothing matters more to me than being a dad, being there for our three children.

I went by the cemetery in Kansas City the other day. I hadn’t been there for quite awhile. The big tree near Dad’s grave has been removed. It took me a minute to find it. It’s been a long time since we laid his body down to rest there. Lots of summers and winters have warmed and chilled that spot.… Read More

One Stone at a Time

I’ve always been in a rush, I’m afraid. I wait until the last moment and then rush to finish. And even if I start on time, I like to move fast. I don’t know why. This kind of living served me well in my 20s and 30s, but not so much in my 40s. This decade I am discovering the beauty if slow work and slow progress.

Most of the truly great things in life cannot be done overnight. The great achievements and the really important projects are generally the kind of things that take lots of time. Recently a man in our church led a group of 4th, 5th, and 6th graders to make a path through the woods to the back of the property, lined with stones. They had to clear the land, gather the stones, and lay them. The path is over 300 feet long. There is NO WAY kids that age can be dedicated to a project like that unless they are enjoying the work itself along the way. That’s this man’s secret. He made the work fun. They enjoyed their times working together and then one day the job was done.

Writer and High Calling Blogger Ann Voskamp works a piece of land that her grandparents owned. Every year they gather the rocks that rise the surface. It is a job her parents did and she did and now her children do. It is a job that will never be finished. Her husband said it best. “You do this one rock at a time.”

“You picked this field, Mom?” Our 13 year-old future man pants the words, his arms too full, his face red with work.

“Every year. This ground’s been picked and picked and picked.” I toss two more rocks onto the trailer’s rising mount and think of the years of gilded harvests before the late autumn rains, the shift of clouds and winds, and white flakes falling, years of warmth returning, and us with it, to work up soil and pick these rocks, rocks, rocks.

“Is there a volcano or something underneath this field, just bubbling them up? Where do all these stones keep coming from?” His brother, sweaty, grimy, weary, hollers from the other side of the trailer. He’s kneeling down, both hands gripped to a stubborn one, thin muscles quaking it back and forth.

I laugh, motion him out of the way, kick at the embedded granite. “When I was your age, my brother, sister and I, we used to fill trailer load after trailer load with rocks and these crazy dreams of some spray we’d invent to disintegrate stones.”… Read More

A Prayer Before Dying

Real Live Preacher has posted one of the final prayers of famous Baptist pastor Carlyle Marney who died of a heart attack in 1978. It shows amazing humility and honesty as well as a nice bit of wit. Reverend Marney was known as a powerful thinker and prophetic spokesperson. It is interesting to note the tone of one of his final prayers, given just a few months before his death.

“Naked I came into the world; how I’m dressed at the conclusion makes no difference.”

Hear now my pitiable defense. In all my sixty years I killed no creature of Thine I did not need for food except for a few rattlesnakes, a turtle or two, two quail I left overlong in my coat and three geese poisoned on bad grain before I shot them in Nebraska, plus one wood duck in Korea. In all my years I consciously battered no child though my own claimed much need to forgive me. And consciously misused no person. Thou knowest my aim to treat no human being as thing, never to hate overlong, to pass no child without catching his or her eye and my innermost wish to love as Thou doest love by seeing no shade of color or class.… Read More.

Being Fully Present

One of Tina Howard’s gifts as a writer is that she possesses a kind of simple honesty. Most of us want to look good in front of our friends and at church. It’s easy to put on a happy face and pretend. With writing, the temptation is even greater. Writers can hide behind their pretty words. Tina writes about being a mother. She writes about the joys and the griefs, and yes, even her own weakness.

When you write like that you give people permission to admit their own weaknesses and begin to grow.

Recently Tina wrote about the way that we parents can be with our children and not really be with them. And it’s not just with children. Being fully present with others is something you have to learn.

As I lay in bed last night thinking over my day, I saw snapshots of me being with my family - but not fully there.

I asked my daughter to feed the dog . . . while I was staring at my computer screen.

I played with my daughter in her play room . . . while I thought about something I needed to get done later.

I kissed my husband when he got home . . . while I calculated how soon we needed to leave in order to deliver a piece of furniture on time.

I listened to a friend talk about her day over the phone . . . while I scanned my email for new messages.… Read More

What We’ve Learned from Animals

This month’s writing assignment was to share with everyone something that you’ve learned from animals. The response was WONDERFUL. So many of our bloggers have clearly learned much from our hoofed, webbed, clawed, and four-legged friends. Thanks to Robert Hruzek for hosting this month’s assignment.

In reading through the entries, here’s a couple that I really enjoyed:

What I Learned From Shooting a Muskrat, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell, Inc. Brad remembers a painful lesson about the value, even for small creatures.

What I Learned From Sam the Border Collie Dog, by Andrew Rondeau at Great Management. Andrew tells the story of his dog Cole, who has eaten just about everything and finally ate something even his stomach couldn’t take.

What I Learned From Animals - A Boy Becomes Like God, by Marcus Goodyear at goodwordediting.com. Marcus recalls the pain of encountering death with its full emotional punch when his dog ran out in front of a car.

Thank you to all who participated!

• What I Learned From Animals, by Audra Krell at KRELLFISH
• What I Learned From a Yappy Dog, by Pete Aldin at Freaked-Out Fathers
• Dog Parables, Part 1, by Ruth Hull Chatlien at Ruth’s Visions and Revisions
• Dog Parables, Part 2, by Ruth Hull Chatlien at Ruth’s Visions and Revisions
• They Touch Your Soul, by Marcie Pickelsimer at My Two Boys
• What I Learned From Animals, by Christine Sine at Godspace
• Look a possum! by Danielle Houghton at sevendaymother.com
• Welcome to the Country, by Jonathan Pippenger at Growing Up With The Kids
• Who’s Training Who, Anyway? by David Bowles at Writing the Westward Sagas
• Life Lessons from SpongeBob Squarepants, by Monica Brand at Paper Bridges
• What I Learned From Animals, by Lillie Ammann at A Writer’s Words, An Editor’s Eye
• Faith Before Fear, by Debbra Stephens at Garlands of Hosannas
• What I Learned From… Bees, by Sam Brougher at Your Scared Seductive System
• What I Learned From Dogs, by Karen Hanrahan at Best of Mother Earth
• What I Learned About Blogging… From My Granddogs, by Jean Browman at Transforming Stress
• What I Learned From Linus, by Gordon Atkinson at High Calling Blogs
• What I learned from a dog, by Sterling Camden at Chip’s Quips
• We Are Different From Animals, by Kim Quon at Preparation 4 Eternity
• What I Learned From Animals, by Lisa Velle at getting it write for you
• What I Learned From Mother Robin, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell, Inc.
• Molly and Ministry, by Songbird at Reflectionary
• How to step out of your normal environment - and step into a new one, by Jackie Cameron at Jackie Cameron
• What I Learned From My Cat About the Writing Life, by Joanna Young at Confident Writing
• What I Learned From My Dog, by Karen Putz at A Deaf Mom Shares Her World
• What I Learned From Animals, by Nancy Janisch at Conversation in Faith Weblog
• The Tao of Roo: Lessons in Simplicity From My Dog, by Sara at On Simplicity
• What I Learned About Blogging… From Rats, by Jean Browman at Transforming Stress
• What I Learned From a Cat, by Luke Gideon at Luke Gedeon
• What I Learn From Kung Fu Panda, by Robert A. Henru at Reason4Smile
• What I Learned From Ants, by Ulla Hennig at Ulla Hennigs Photoblog
• Well Ain’t That Just the Duck’s Posterior! by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• What Are You Saying, Without Saying a Word? by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• The First Step to Effective Communication, by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings

Craftsmanship & Raisin Bread

Sam Van Eman is a new blog in our network. I was reading some of our new friends when a couple of his posts caught my eye. Sam is a good writer, certainly. He also seems to be a deep and creative thinker. His thoughts on craftsmanship, using shoe making as an example, were funny, concise, and right on the money. He also has an observation on an event in the life of Henri Nouwen that is worth a read. A trappist monk of Nouwen’s named Theodore spent his life making raisin bread. And yet, in spite of the humble nature of his calling, Theodore managed to be a hero.

Check out Sam’s work at The New Breed of Advertisers.

“The Christian shoemaker does his Christian duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”

- Quote widely attributed to Martin Luther

This doesn’t mean that craftsmanship is the trump card for faithfulness at work. Surely there are exquisitely-made gambling tables and remarkable displays of artisanship in elite strip club furniture, but these are - in my opinion - misdirected uses of talent. Craftsmanship must be discerningly applied.…Read More

New Bloggers Include Mugs, Bullies, and Espresso Shots

Marcus here.

Last week, we mentioned our new automated system for welcoming folks into the network. That means, once a week, I sit down to add folks into the feeds and sift through the newcomers.

Hmm. Sorting through the printouts this week I see our first spam member who wants us to sell video games for them in Monrovia. I think we’ll pass.

The rest of the new blogs are pretty cool. Here are just a few of them:

Andrea of Espresso Shots says, “I’d love to connect, share lessons and explore collaboration opportunities with like-minded professionals committed to honoring God in the marketplace.” She’s a business blogger got some good devotional posts for Christians in the workplace.

Tina Howard of spaghettipie isn’t really a new blogger, but we somehow left her out when we transferred our email list over to the new system. So I’m listing her because she just now got into the “big list.” Sorry about that Tina. And if you’ve never visited her blog, it’s one of Mark Goodyear’s favorites. Tina also writes for TheHighCalling.org, by the way, though her first article hasn’t gone live yet.

Karen Swim of Words for Hire is another business blogger. She hasn’t added a badge yet, but I wanted to list her anyway because her recent post on what she learned from bullies is such a great idea. I think it could make a good group writing project, Robert. Robert, are you listening?

Marty of CountlessImperfections.com shares our affinity for high calling blogger Steve McCoy. He deserves a mention too, because yesterday was his birthday. He hung one more year on the line.

Last by not least, Roger Mugs the Theologer (who’s also a sometime poet) comes in with some great devotional about Psalm 25 read through the lens of living in a shame-based culture. Wow!

Now, go click through and leave some comments to encourage people.

I hope everyone has a great week. I’m headed off to Lubbock, Texas. Whoo hoo!

Lessons of a Father

Father’s Day is coming this weekend. Once again we stop to think about our fathers, both who they are and what they did for us. A good father is a wonderful gift; not everyone is blessed to have had one.

David Rupert has posted a wonderful tribute to his own father at Red Letter Believers. His father taught him some classic masculine lessons of work and patience and faithfulness. Truly, a good father is a wonderful blessing.

My dad was a roofer. For more than 50 years, he climbed ladders, crawled over rooftops, and literally hung on the edge of danger. He eschewed air nail guns and most powered tools, choosing the patient, deliberate act of hammering shakes one at a time. Each one was accurately placed, as if the entire house depended on it.

His was a simple approach. He rarely hired a crew, choosing instead the lonely road of a dedicated craftsman.… Read More

What I Learned from Linus

Our High Calling Blogs project this month is to write about something we learned from animals. You can read more about this over at Robert Hruzek’s blog.

When Jeanene and I were 25 and had been married about a couple of years, we got a dog. It’s sort of a cliche, but yes, a dog was our first child. Perhaps we needed to practice. And so Linus came into our life. He was a salt and pepper miniature schnauzer, the runt of the litter.

I tried to think of fancy words to describe the depth of Linus’ love, but fancy words seem to diminish him. Linus loved us as dogs love their people - with complete and utter abandon. He adored us. He was always overjoyed to see us arrive at home. He never wanted anything more than to be where we were. His greatest thrill in life (apart from eating which I’ll admit did seem to be his first love) was being allowed to sleep on the foot of our bed, wrapped in odd positions around the lumps in the covers made by our feet. And when three sisters were born, one after the other, Linus patiently accepted them with grace and good humor, though he was always fiercely loyal with his love and gave it completely only to the two who raised him from a pup.

He loved us like a dog, which is to say with complete commitment, unwavering faith, and with a constancy that the fickle human mind is incapable of. We can’t love like dogs love, nor should we. A dog’s love for its human is like no other kind of love. All a dog asks for is that you be there for him, loving him back. A dog’s love is a very…fierce and uncompromising thing. There are elements of it that humble me - none more than the certainty it brings to life. If your dog loves you now, you can be certain your dog will love you next week and next month and next year, all the way until he or she dies.

And Linus did die, of course. As all dogs and creatures do. If his coming prepared us for the commitment that small children would require, then his passing prepared us for the hard decisions made in love that our adolescent children would need from us. He died in 2003, at the ripe old dog-age of 16. His final lesson to me was a painful one. For Linus trusted and loved me all the way up until the moment they put the needle in his skin and he laid his aged head into my palm for the last time. I wrote about his passing a few days later, back in the early days of my blog.

From Real Live Preacher - 2003

We said goodbye to Linus yesterday. He was a great dog, faithful and true for sixteen of the eighteen years we’ve been married. He helped us raise three girls and only ever wanted love returned in kind.

The last three years were hard for the “little boy”, as we called him. He had a number of ailments, and the quality of his life diminished greatly. I knew this day was coming; I knew we would have to make that last trip to the vet.

A good friend told me I would know when it was time. He was right. Yesterday morning Linus was sleeping at the back door and had something between a seizure and a dream. I tried to wake him, but he didn’t respond at first. I moved his head, and it was limp and heavy in my hands, a sad premonition of what was to come.

I sat and talked to him for a few minutes. “Little boy, how you doin?” I looked into his eyes, and I knew. I knew it was time.

The three sisters came home from school and said their goodbyes. There were many tears and a flurry of little girl hugs. These are the children who grew up on his watch. He was patient with them when they were babies, tolerating the pulled hair and awkward pats. Yesterday they were gentle, just as he trained them to be.

Then came the last car trip. He was trusting as always, laying his life in our hands. There was a somber conversation with the vet, and then she brought out a box of tissues and a needle.

For sixteen years I’ve held my left hand under his muzzle and looked into his eyes. I did this one last time while his head grew heavy, heavier, heaviest.

I liked feeling the weight of that heavy, shaggy head. It felt like trust in my hand. I didn’t want to lay his head on the tabletop and slip my hand out from under it. I didn’t want to.

Goodbye Linus. God rest you wherever it is that doggies go. God rest your faithful little bones. There always was a wonderful goodness in you.

Linus as a puppy in 1987.

rlp

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