When Those Who Came Before Disappoint

You looked at me with tears in your eyes.  Or anger.  Or sadness.  Because your parents had disappointed you.  Because the generation who came before you failed you.  Because some collection of adults who were supposed to protect you, educate you, set an example for you had let you down.  You told me your story as you choked back, clenched your fists, threw your hands in the air.

"What am I supposed to do now?" you asked.

(Stuart McClymont/Getty Images)

I wish I had a solution.  I wish my words were more than just words of comfort, more than just pointing in the direction of truth, more than the promise that no matter what, I'm here.  I'm listening.  I believe you.  But for now, all I can say is:  you are not alone.

There is a passage I turn to in times of high anxiety, when big life-changing decisions loom and wisdom feels elusive.  Whether for good reasons or bad, when the torch has been passed to me, I read the first chapter of Joshua in the Bible.

The Bible begins with five books, often referred to collectively as the Pentateuch, which contain the origins of the Jewish people.  In a book of firsts, Genesis introduces us to God, to the creation of the world, to the first man and the first woman.  After Adam and Eve name all the animals and, I assume, figure out exactly how God intended them to be fruitful and multiply, we encounter the first sin.  Eve takes the apple, the only thing that is forbidden, and, in the first ever recorded instance of FOMO, Adam eats it too.  I have to wonder, knowing what I do about human nature, just how long it took them to break the rule.  Was it after years and years of temptation?  Was it the first time God walked off into the Garden?  Either way, Adam and Eve receive a curse and must leave Eden.  Within a generation, we learn of the first blood feud, followed soon by the first diaspora, the first flood, the first promise God makes to a man to never flood the earth again.  Then we meet Abram, the man chosen by God to father an entire group of chosen people, a man credited with righteousness because of his faith, the first person to be given a new name by the Lord.  We see God honor that promise through Abraham's son and grandson.  We see Joseph sold into slavery by his jealous brothers and making a place for himself in Egypt.

Now this actually becomes a big deal as Genesis ends and Exodus begins.  Joseph's entire family moves to Egypt due to a famine in their own land, and they find the conditions perfect to greatly grow in number, just as God intended.  For hundreds of years, God's people, the descendants of Abraham, flourish in this foreign land.  Then a pattern, which has been carried out again and again across human history, begins.  The native Egyptians mistreat the descendants of Abraham.  They feared them because of their large numbers, so they enslaved them.  They ordered the wholesale murder of all their infant sons so they could be further dominated.  In spite of this, the chosen people continue to increase in number.  And the Bible tells us that they cried out to God, and He heard them.

God raises up one of their own, a baby boy who escapes the infanticide of Egypt and grows up inside Pharaoh's palace, a man whose name is Moses.  God calls Moses from his self-imposed exile in the wilderness to lead the people out of slavery and into freedom.  God makes a covenant with Moses that builds upon His promise to Abraham.  Now that His people number in the millions, God has chosen a place for them to call their own, a Promised Land flowing with milk and honey where they can worship the God of their ancestors and govern themselves according to His Holy law (aka the 10 commandments).  And so, after throwing up a few flimsy excuses and trying to evade his God-given job, Moses returns to Egypt and tells Pharaoh to let his people go.  There are some plagues against the stubborn Egyptians and some harsh punishments against the slaves as a result, but eventually Moses leads the entire population of Jews out of slavery and into the desert.  It doesn't take long for the people to start complaining about how good they had it in Egypt, in spite of God's constant presence and constant provision.  He takes them to the edge of the Promised Land, and then Moses chooses 12 men to spy out the current occupants.  Two of the spies return, full of hope and wonder, with reports that the land really is as good as God promised, with the certain belief that they can conquer it.  The other ten are not so optimistic.  They saw giants where the others saw bounty; they saw defeat where the two saw victory.  Word quickly spreads among the people, and a full-on rebellion begins to form.  No one except Joshua and Caleb believes that God will fulfill His promise, and so God makes a decree.  The entire generation will die in the desert before their children will inherit the Promised Land.

It shocks me every time I read it.  They were there, they were so close...and they missed it.  Not because of their sin, like the time they worshipped a golden calf at the foot of Mt Sinai.  Not because they were lazy or stupid or worthless.  It was because they didn't believe God's promise.  So they live like refugees, in camps in the middle of nowhere, for FORTY YEARS.  Their children grow up without permanence, without role models, without the free-flowing milk and honey.

This is where the book of Joshua begins.  Moses is dead.  He is the last of the faithless generation.  And now God speaks to Joshua.

 2 He said, “My servant Moses is dead. Get ready now, you and all the people of Israel, and cross the Jordan River into the land that I am giving them. 3 As I told Moses, I have given you and all my people the entire land that you will be marching over. 4 Your borders will reach from the desert in the south to the Lebanon Mountains in the north; from the great Euphrates River in the east, through the Hittite country, to the Mediterranean Sea in the west. 5 Joshua, no one will be able to defeat you as long as you live. I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will always be with you; I will never abandon you. 6 Be determined and confident, for you will be the leader of these people as they occupy this land which I promised their ancestors. 7 Just be determined, be confident; and make sure that you obey the whole Law that my servant Moses gave you. Do not neglect any part of it and you will succeed wherever you go. 8 Be sure that the book of the Law is always read in your worship. Study it day and night, and make sure that you obey everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Remember that I have commanded you to be determined and confident! Do not be afraid or discouraged, for I, the Lord your God, am with you wherever you go.”

Joshua is the keeper of the faith, and now he is the leader of millions.  He is tasked with the job his elders couldn't accomplish.  He will finally lead the people into the Promised Land.  When he stands before them to make his first big speech, I have to wonder what he was feeling.  Did the weight of his new responsibilities feel heavy?  Did he worry that he would fail just as Moses and all the others had?  Did he have even a moment when he broke down and cried because it was all so much and he was just one man?  Or did the words God spoke to him break through all the self-doubt?  Did a fire burn in his chest as he repeated them to himself:  "Be determined and confident!  Do not be afraid or discouraged, for I, the Lord your God, am with you wherever you go"?

Do those words speak to you in this moment, does your heavy heart feel lighter, does the path forward seem clear?  Because Joshua did exactly as he was told, and the Promised Land became his home.  He and Caleb settled within the borders and brought their people in.  God did what He promised, and went with Joshua through all of it, the battles, the long nights, the strategy sessions.  Joshua conquered the land where giants dwelled and he knew peace in his lifetime.

That Could Never Happen Here

During my junior year in high school, I started taking college courses, so that after a full day of honors classes and marching band practice, I drove across town to get credit for Intro to Psych and Microeconomics.  It was on that drive, one warm April afternoon, that my Top 40 pop songs were interrupted by breaking news.  Reporters and law enforcement had swarmed to a Colorado high school, responding to shooters inside, murdering their classmates and teachers.  I was perplexed, the same way I would feel on another drive a few years later, listening to the report of airplanes flying into the World Trade Center.  My thoughts were jumbled, trying to make sense of the notion that apparently this happens now.

Denver Rocky Mountain News

People were quick to talk about the WHY, whether the blame lay in bad parenting or violent video games or intense bullying.  It never seemed like much of a mystery to me, with our unformed frontal cortexes and hormonal surges, the anger and loneliness and grandiosity that hid behind our smiles on Picture Day.  The next day, I returned to my high school with a certain amount of fear.  It felt like anyone with access to weapons and a big enough grudge could storm the building and open fire.

I showed up in the school office, where I helped the secretary take attendance and filed paperwork for the vice principal.  We usually talked during the 45 minutes we spent together each day, although in the wake of Columbine, our conversation centered on the tragedy that had taken place on the other side of the country.  Almost 20 years later, I can still remember her words as she looked at me that morning.  "There were BMWs in that parking lot," she said.  As news helicopters had filmed students fleeing the building, her eyes had focused on the makes and models of cars the students had driven to school that morning.  "There are BMWs in our parking lot," she continued.  The peaceful, secure illusion of our affluent suburban town had shattered for her.  If it could happen in Littleton, it could happen here.

I'll admit, I had several years of not following breaking news very closely.  There have been incidents of violence and murder that have flown under my radar.  Yet every school shooting, every child gunned down on a playground or in a classroom, the thought has resurfaced:  that could happen here. Now that my own children are enrolled in our local public school, I watch the enhanced security measures that are put in place each year, the reinforced doors and student dismissal procedures, I hear about the "man with a gun" drill from my 6 year old, and I wonder how truly effective any of it is.  Because THAT COULD HAPPEN HERE, is another lock enough to stop a person with a loaded gun and a mission?

I said my usual prayer this morning as I dropped my boys off at their school, as I watched the police cruiser in the parking lot and the children streaming into the building, dressed up for Picture Day.  I prayed for their safety, for their teachers to be able to do their jobs in peace, for every child showing up at school that day to make it through the day unharmed.  An hour later, I saw the story, reported by our local paper.  It happened here.

Amid the confusion and the fear, there was that same sentiment that my high school secretary had expressed so many years ago, the shock that something like THAT could happen HERE.  As though the price of your home or the designer labels inside your clothes can protect you, as though money can buy your family happiness and inoculate your children's minds from corruption, as though some invisible barrier exists around your zip code and protects you from human nature, from the very worst that we are capable of.

Today was a typical day for our little family, inside the walls of our home.  But it was a very different story across town, on my Facebook feed, as parents held their children close and sirens and helicopters were heard outside.  The danger is all too real for a new group of families, for another community, as questions swirl and peace of mind is long gone.

The Worst Tooth Fairy

We care about oral hygiene.
I swear.

If I can be totally honest (and it's my blog, so why not?), I was fairly unprepared for motherhood.  Mostly I focused on getting through the pregnancies, and then I was presented a baby.  I didn't know how long they would wear diapers.  I didn't know when I should introduce solid foods.  I definitely didn't have a "parenting style" locked and loaded.  Then there's all the other stuff, the little stuff, the once a year stuff, the "we didn't have this in my day" stuff, that makes me want to throw up my hands and hide under a blanket.  It doesn't help that so many people are on Pinterest and making every day of childhood magical for their kids.

I can't even handle being the Tooth Fairy.

This is one of those unexpected roles that just popped up.  As in, we were out of town for Thanksgiving five years ago and our kindergartner had a loose tooth all of a sudden.  How long had the tooth been loose?  How long would it be until it fell out?  What in the world are we supposed to do to kick off this grand tradition?

The answers came quickly.  A loose tooth will hang from a child's gums until that child bites into an apple (his favorite food).  A grandparent will sneak down to the hotel lobby and purchase candy from a vending machine to slide under the child's pillow.  Parents will feel conflicted about giving their five year old a King Size Skittles, ultimately taking their punishment of sugar craze as penance for not being prepared.

You would think I learned my lesson.  You would think I would prepare better, now that teeth had begun to fall out.  You would be wrong.

I didn't want to keep giving my kids candy for each tooth.  I mean, it kind of defeats the purpose of celebrating adult teeth by turning around and rotting them with too much sugar.  But my very young son didn't seem to grasp the concept of money, either, so it seemed like quarters wouldn't give him a thrill.  I finally settled on giving him licensed Cars (like Lightning McQueen and friends) each time he lost a tooth.  Sometimes I would go out in the evening and purchase the car.  Sometimes it would be a few days later.  When he got a tooth pulled at the dentist, I took him straight to Toys R Us and let him pick out two.  It was working (sort of), so I optimistically purchased a few new Cars to have a stock pile.  He found them within a day and wanted to know why he had to wait to lose a tooth to play with them.

That's the saga of my oldest.  Again, you'd think that all that experience would translate to better practices when the next kid started losing baby teeth.  Again, you'd be wrong.

Once again, I was completely unprepared for my kid to start getting loose teeth.  Once again, a grandparent-supplied candy bar was needed.  Once again, I mentally flogged myself for my children's lack of a magical childhood.

But this kid was determined to be different.  When I spotted a loose tooth and ran out to purchase a toy that could fit under his pillow (and hopefully cost less than $5), it took MONTHS for the thing to actually come out, and more than once, I'd forget what I'd gotten or where I'd hidden it.  Problem not solved.  Also, with the second kid, there's the added pressure of expectation.  Because this kid's been watching his big brother amass a fleet of die-cast Cars, so everything has to appear to be as good as the older kid's experience.  Try telling a six year old that the Tooth Fairy messed up a fair amount with his brother.  That kid is NOT BUYING IT.

So I have a kid who loses a tooth with very little fanfare, and another who gives daily progress reports for 72 days.  (The oldest lost a tooth recently, and this is how it went down: he told me the day before that his tooth was loose.  While I was standing in the kitchen making coffee the next morning, he walks in, shows me the tooth in his hand, tosses it in the trash can and asks for his toy.)

Okay, I have one more kid left.  I was determined to get this thing right.  I found a pack of miniature Fireman Sam figures online and ordered them.  They've been sitting in my dresser for almost a year.  Every time his brothers lost a tooth, I'd check his.  Nothing was happening.

That is, until the morning of January 10th.  It started like a typical school day.  I got the younger two dropped off at the local elementary school and returned home for a day of tests for the oldest, who does online school.  Forty-five minutes passed, which wasn't even enough time to finish the first test (math :/ ) when the phone rang.  It was the elementary school secretary informing me that I needed to come pick up my youngest because he'd had an accident in gym class.  At the phrase "bloody nose," the smile on my face died.  I rushed the oldest through the last few questions (nothing says Positive Learning Environment like an adult yelling, "Just guess!" as she retrieves her shoes and coat) and drove back to the school.  There was my peanut, his feet dangling from the chair and an ice pack pressed to his face.  Under the blood and faint bruises, there was a loose baby tooth hanging on for dear life.

Cut to an emergency dental appointment, a shot of Novocaine that helped him get through the rest of the day, and a premature tooth loss presented in one of those little plastic containers.  We talked about the Tooth Fairy and her nocturnal visit, the gift he could expect to find under his pillow.  And then we muddled through the rest of the day, managing pain and presenting soft foods.  I caved to the request to sleep in his bed, even though it is a narrow twin and he's a kicker.

Then the morning came.

I woke up to my son rattling his tooth holder and looking disappointed.  "The Tooth Fairy didn't come," he told me, and instantly I shot up to rectify the situation.  "Oh, I think she left your present in my room!" I said, running across the hall and trying to not make too much noise as I retrieved the Fireman Sam figure from his packaging.  "But she forgot the tooth," he said, and the usual mental berating began in earnest.  I traded the toy for the tooth in broad daylight and shrugged my shoulders.    What can I say?  The Tooth Fairy wasn't anticipating all the trauma of the previous day.  And also, I suck at this job.

None of us is perfect at this parenting thing.  What's something you wish you did better?