I Am A Rudder

A number of years ago, my father told me of an interaction that he had with his mother.  My memory is that my grandmother had told my dad that she was useless.  With her arthritic hands and withering body, she no longer saw herself as having a purpose among our family.  My father's response was priceless:

"Yeah, Mom, I guess you are useless.  As useless as an anchor at the bottom of the sea holding a cable that runs up to a boat that is thrashing about on the waves.  That anchor holds firm making it possible for the boat to remain afloat.

You see, Mom.  You may not feel that you have a no purpose.  But, it is your listening ear and wisdom that serves as an anchor for our family.  Your love remains strong and helps us to battle the waves and storms of daily life.  You are our anchor."

I love this imagery because it is so accurate of who my grandmother was in our family.  She sat in her recliner and listened to me for hours and hours and hours.  My grandmother could loving gift me with the wisdom of her years that I wasn't willing to hear from anyone else.  It is grandparents that anchor us to our past and can continue to help us chart the right course for our daily lives.

With this in mind, I got to thinking about myself and my role in our family. And after much consideration, I have decided that I am a rudder. To make the visual easier, I include this sailboat diagram from HowStuffWorks.com:

The rudder sets the course for the boat.  It gives direction so that the boat's momentum from the wind can be used to the best of the driver's ability.  While the waves of life crash against the boat striving to move it the direction of the water, the rudder can change direction.   The rudder is the steering wheel.

As the rudder in my family, I set the course through my actions and attitudes.  It can happen in little ways.  For example, if I greet the kids with a smile and my undivided attention after school, the remainder of the afternoon goes smoother.  It doesn't mean there aren't complaints about homework or piano practice.  But, these obstacles seem to almost be minor as I steer us through with a smile, a gentle reminder or a bit of snuggle time on the couch before tackling the task at hand.  However, if I am in a poor mood and quick to snap at their needs, I guarantee that everyone is in their rooms for time-outs before the first dish is pulled out of the cupboard for dinner.  It is almost as if my children can pick-up on my mood even before I do and then react accordingly to their own moods.  I am a rudder.  And, I have a choice how to steer the course of our afternoons.

As the rudder in my family, I can set the course for the big things, too.  I continue to sail this ship to church on Sundays and Wednesdays and create family time to talk about faith.  I want my kids when taking off in their own boats to keep their sails filled with the winds of the Holy Spirit.  As the rudder, I point our ship to opportunities to serve others like the Walk for Hunger on Thanksgiving morning.  I want my kids to value their gifts and the importance of giving and serving others.  As the rudder, I point our ship to the importance of education, friendships, and family. 

I have had some limited experience with sailboats during my time as a camp counselor many years ago.  And, I can confidently say that the rudder is nothing if you don't have a solid and long keel.  I'd love to be a keel.  They keep the boat from tipping.  But, I am too ADHD for that mission.  That is why God blessed me with a husband who is a very good keel.  He supports my "rudder-ness" 99.2% of the time by keeping us upright and moving on course. 

So, as my family continues to brace for the storms of life, the rudder and the keel are thankful for the anchors in our lives.  We are grateful for the good winds that come from the Holy Spirit, and we are confident that our family will remain afloat in the boat as long as we remain on course.

New Years...And New Realizations

There is a natural excitement that seems to build on New Year's Eve.   As the minutes tick down to the ball dropping in Time Square, I feel this building enthusiasm for the next year and the upcoming days.  It is almost as though anything I dream can and will be in the upcoming year.  There are no restraints.  If I think I will loose 20 pounds or 200 pounds, I can do it!  If this is the year that I will pay off all of my debt, then it will happen.  The pessimist and realist voices in my head seem to turn off for this one night, and I write down my BFDs (Big Fat Dreams) for the upcoming year with zeal and enthusiasm.

I am struck by the realization that this is possibly a daily thing for children.  Each night is the eve of all new possibilities and adventures that are untarnished by any touch of reality or doubt.  And, furthermore, isn't this how I should view each new day?  Why do I save this feeling of freedom for only one night a year?

Martin Luther wrote (loosely paraphrased) that each morning he washed his face and was reminded of his baptism.  The baptism that marked a cleansing of his "old self" and the beginning of a clean self for the day ahead.  New Year's Eve marks the very pointed ritual of closing our last chapter/year and the beginning of a new one with dreams and ambition for being better and doing better. 

I do not need a ball to drop in Time Square to have this kind of hope and enthusiasm.  (Although, it would be kinda cool if I could have one in our backyard to drop each evening to cue the children to go to bed!)  So, for this new and exciting year of 2011, my first BFD is to remember with each face wash that I am made clean and new.  Today is filled with possibility.  And, if tomorrow fails to live up to my dreams, I am going to remember that tomorrow is a new day with all new possibilities and adventures.

This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. - Psalm 118:24