As Seen in the April edition of Bella Magazine

Many of us grew up in the era of Sesame Street, Dr. Spock, and the “Free to be, You and Me” tape from Margo Thomas and friends. Even In the most conventional families, the 7o’s insisted that parents who didn’t know the answer wouldn’t just blunder their way through. Instead, they‘d say, “Let’s look that up together, sweetheart” while pulling out The A-D Volume from the family’s hardbound set of Encyclopedia Britannica.

This created a faulty understanding that kids and parents were somehow equals and would muddle through life together. The result? Confused Gen X’ers who don’t know how to raise kids. By this I mean, they seem to think family life is a democracy. What a joke.

Figuring it out together might work with little kids but when you have teens, forget it. It’s war. Parents, if you let them know how much you don’t know, you‘ve lost. You’ve lost the battle AND you’ve lost the war.

Face it, parents. Teens these days have a lot more than a dog-eared encyclopedia on their side. These kids have the whole world in their hands. There’s one word that has forever changed the face of parenting.

Internet.

No longer will the beloved words “Because I say so” carry the weight they did back in the day. Now teens with Blackberries finger their keyboard and announce, “But Mom! 75% of parents allow their kids to drive before they actually have a license.”

Peer pressure has gone global. No longer am I challenged by the standards of the neighborhood. Now I have to know that kids in France drink wine with dinner. I always said “knowledge is power” until my kids got Internet access. Then I changed my catchphrase to “knowledge is annoying.” And Mommy is right, repeat after me, Mommy is right, right, right!

“If your friends all jumped off a bridge, would you jump?” That used to be a parental power statement designed to stop unthinking teens in their tracks. Now it’s viewed as an idiotic non-sequitur. “Of course I’d jump, Mom, I watch Extreme Sports all the time and no one ever gets hurt!” The “DUH!” is implied.

Oh. Right. You saw it on YouTube. That kid lived. Clearly you are right, son, and I am wrong.

What happened to Father Know Best? (The philosophy as well as the TV show.) I loved programs that portrayed dads as all-knowing. Ward Clever never said, “Gee, Beaver, I don’t know, why don’t you Google it?“ Dads, act like you know; fake it ‘til you make it. As we say about our own beloved dad, “Not always right, but never in doubt.” Right or wrong, he’s not backing down. Way to go, Honey!

When I was little, there was actually a show whose title was “Wait ‘til your Father Gets Home.” The implication? You’re gonna get it! Your dad will set you straight, young man. Now every program on TV could be titled “Teens Run the Planet” and sub-titled “Parents are Stupid Idiots.” If parents are characters at all, they only drop by to ruin the teens good time. This is cable TV at its finest.

The rampant disrespect bugs me. Some shows don’t even try to hide their disdain in the titles! Think of this one….Fairly Odd Parents. Why I never! Fairly Odd Parents?! So what, we all are. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen to us!

And what’s that stupid show with teen role-model Jamie Lyn Spears? Tune in to see that her parents don’t slow her down one bit. She’s living away from home at 15. (See how that worked for her??) She wears skimpy tops and never attends class at her cushy prep school. It‘s a tweenage pretend-college with million dollar décor. The parents simply foot the bill and clearly, that’s all they’re good for.

I’m hard-core. I won’t even let my kids watch The Simpsons because Bart speaks disrespectfully to his parents. Bart seems like Bobby Brady compared to the kids on TV today.

Old friends of mine have school-aged kids and they are already exhausted from the parental rhetoric. Real-life conversations almost sent them over the bleeding edge. If all the other kids jumped off a bridge, would you? Oh, you would? Well, I wouldn’t let you. So there.

Since it’s war and all, my friends thought of a clever retaliation. They make hip t-shirts where the joke is on the kids. My favorite t-shirt actually said Because I Said So. I loved it. Every parent who saw it, loved it. The shirt said it all. I wore it every day, nearly, until it “disappeared” in the “wash.” That’s the last time my children do my laundry. That wasn’t just a shirt, it was my suit of armor.



Martie Smith Byrd is a writer and speaker. Check out her website at martiebyrd.com where her ranting never ends. To get your own Because I Said So t-shirt, log on www.planetmomtshirts.com and say Martie sent you. Maybe I’ll get a free replacement.

Luke 22:41-43
He withdrew about a stone's throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him.


In the garden of Gethsemane, before Christ was taken away to be tortured and crucified, He prayed this prayer (in Martie paraphrase.) "If it's possible, Dad, to rewrite the script now, I'd really appreciate it. Now that the time is here, I'm afraid. It's going to really hurt. Yet, not my will, but yours be done. I'm not sure I'd make the right decision at the moment, so I'm leaving it up to You."

This prayer is very comforting to me. I am comforted by the fact that Jesus had doubts and fears. Even though He knew what was coming, His human body and mind revolted at the very idea. His very heart was melting, as it says in Psalm 22, the psalm He quotes from the cross.

My favorite part, though, is the clincher. "Not my will but Yours be done." He states what He'd like to see ("take this cup from me"), but rests the final decision in the capable hands of God the Father.

Do we pray this way? I've been trying to, but here's what I notice. Simultaneously while praying, "Not my will," I have an underscore thought of what my will is! For instance, our littlest girl Julia was in the hospital this week. I prayed over and over, "Not my will but Yours be done," yet it was not a true prayer of relinquishment. (I prayed it but didn't mean it). The unspoken but fervent subtext was "please not a chronic illness, Lord, please make this an isolated thing, please just restore her to how she was before this all started."

I need a Magna Doodle for my brain. It's a magnetic sketch pad that can be wiped clean--truly a clean slate. See, even when I pray, "not my will but yours", it's impossible for me (so far) to NOT have those thoughts of "Psst! God! Here's what I want!" lurking beneath the surface. I'd like to wipe those thoughts out, Magna Doodle style, and pray without motives.

James says we pray with the wrong motives, to get just what we want. I admit, I'm consistently guilty of that. But Lord, I really DO want what YOU have determined BEST. And I don't want to live in martyred resignation but instead powerful relinquishment.

I can't see the future. (You can.)
I can't see how everything fits together. (You do.)
I can't see beyond my current situation. (You see.)

Therefore, it's an act of my will to choose to rest in you...and leave the Rest to You. Just like Jesus did in the Garden.

Help us, Lord.

An oft-quoted Scripture is Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God."

The implication is that in order to truly acknowledge that God is in control, we need to first be still. Yet, how on earth, on this frantic, busy, crazy earth, do we be still? I'm not lookig for a solution, such as "get eight hours of sleep at night" or "eat more protein." I guess I'm looking for a more metaphysical, a deeper kind of answer. A God answer.

Be still actually means "cease striving." What would that look like? Would we know it if we saw it? I've had weeks (ok, years) when I literally never sat down or took a deep breath. Being the Mother of the Year that I am, I have actually used that fact to berate my sweet children. Such as, "I just sat down for the FIRST TIME TODAY...find your own socks!!" Can you relate?

How do we find that core peace? It burns my bacon that the book Eat/Pray/Love is on the best-sellers list and is mentioned in many of my deeper conversations with women. Why does it aggravate me so? Basically, this. The author was given a hefty book contract to go "find" herself for a year. In Italy, her assignment: eat. In India: pray. In Bali: love. She luxuriates in each...and she's paid to do it. Okay, sure, she experiences some angst. Which pasta to order? Which guy to bring home? Poor soul.

Could you cease striving if someone paid you to do it??? We'd kill for the chance. Yet it brings up another, deeper question still. What is payment? I was thinking cash money and I'll bet you were, too. Surely the author of E/P/L wasn't paid in shells.

Yet the Lord of the universe is the Lord of great blessings. Cash isn't always a blessing and in fact, is often a curse. But Peace is a blessing. Wholeness is a blessing. Faith is a blessing.

The t-shirt demands, "Stop the World. I'm getting off." Does that sound good to you? Cease striving....and beg the Lord to show you how to do it. Start with baby steps. Get off that committee that you hate. Sit down with a cup of tea. Wake up with a prayer, go to sleep with another one. Be still. It's your choice.

And let me know how you're doing.