Then a new thought comes, and the dogs pause. What if the whole purpose of my life on this planet, the only task of significance I’ve been given, is to make a difference in ONE life?
How do we grow gritty children, how do we turn them into people who can withstand pain and disappointment and failure? How do we develop in them character and set them up with lives of unshakable hope?
I want to teach her as she grows is to pay attention to the things that interest her, to follow them and engage deeply with them and let them propel her like a strong wind. I will encourage her not to get stuck, but to keep moving, even if that means abandoning one course to follow another.
If God engineers situations in our lives to grow fruit in us, then parenting is tailor-made for patience-cultivation. I discover I am sorely lacking in this area.
Another way to look at this is that extroverts need external stimulation to keep their brains engaged; introverts’ brains are constantly engaged, so they need external quiet to manage the stimulation. Laney claims that about one third of the population is introverted, putting us in the notable minority.
Individually, we need to be aware of our own image-construction practices. What things do we hide our selves behind, and which need to be sacrificed so we can better reflect Jesus?
This is how a baby acquires language: she begins with an unwitting exploration of the sounds her mouth can form and then attaches meaning to them, syllable by syllable, as she hears them repeated by the people around her.
I don’t feel forty, I feel eighteen. I feel like I’m just starting out and my whole life lies ahead. I feel like there is an endless supply of time to find myself and get to know God and grow.
The love of Christmas still haunts me. As soon as the malls hang their garlands and the first snowflakes flutter, that holiday feeling rushes in.
Seems like everyone’s talking about neighbours these days: our church launched a local outreach initiative just as this themed issue was announced. And here in the land of babies and preschoolers, all I can think is, neighbours? I don’t even have time to stay on top of laundry let alone “reach out.”
Bobbing in her pool this summer, a friend and I discussed our culture’s repressed and castigated emotions. She and her husband started several orphanages in Africa, and she tried to describe an unusual practice she encountered there: ululation.
Okay, full disclosure. Being an introvert, and given some of my psychological hang-ups, making friends hasn’t been my best life skill.