I ran across this quote while I was reading Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. It was in application to our aging population, but I find it working just as well with my teenage kids. It is very humorous when it works in both at the same time. My mom lives in a condo on the Washington coast. We used to visit her on the fourth of July. She wouldn't let us go out to the beach to watch the fireworks because it was too dangerous. My thirty something self found this ridiculous, but I grudgingly kept her rules. I was talking with her last week about the pros and cons of living at the beach at this stage in her life. She has three flights of stairs to negotiate which is "dangerous". She very proudly informed me that the stairs are getting easier and that she thinks they are helping her stay in shape. You know, she has a point. Yes, she could trip and fall down the stairs anytime, so could I. If she wants to live at the beach with stairs and that makes her feel like she is living life to the fullest, who am I to tell her it isn't safe?
It has come home to me in many different ways lately that safety sucks the life out of us. I don't know how many times my kids have gone to stay with friends and then texted pictures of themselves jumping off of rocks, white water rafting, climbing cliffs, skiing the trees, surfing, and a million other things that I probably wouldn't have been excited about letting them do. They did it. They loved it. They lived to take cool pictures to show me. It makes them feel alive. They would be "safer" sitting on the couch at home, but what kind of life is that? No one wants to be safe all the time. How many times do you see parents riding bikes without helmets, but all their kids have them on? We don't want to be safe, we want the wind blowing through our hair. My dad and I frequently have the discussion about when I crash and hit my head and become a vegetable... The thing is, I am ready to go home anytime. I might crash, but if I have my helmet on I'm more likely to be a vegetable. If I don't I just might die, and really I'm OK with that. It's a risk we all take every day when we get out of bed. Accidents happen all the time, illness happens all the time, life happens all the time. Those of us that are willing to take risks seem to enjoy life more, and fear death less. We know that death is always a possible outcome, but so is life. Even a compromised life can be used for God's glory. I have seen that happen too.
I fight my momma bear instinct everyday with my kids, and now with my parents. I want to feel better thinking they are safe, instead of letting them live fully. I want to keep them home, when I need to let them go. I want to wrap them in bubble wrap and sunscreen, when I need to let the wind blow their bare skin. I need to let them choose the amount of risk they are willing to take. I need to let my dad cross country ski at mid-night on New Year's Eve. I need to let my mom live in her condo at the beach. I need to let my father-in-law stay in his home. I need to let my kids go to concerts, jump off rocks, travel the world, ski where it's legal, sled in the street, and a million other things they will dream up. I need to trust God with all of their living. We did watch the fireworks from the beach one year when mom was out of town. The view was spectacular! Next year I will remind her of this and if she gives me any back chat I will remind her that she lives their alone most of the year, she needs to let us live dangerously sometimes too.
I am thankful for:
Roses blooming in my back yard
Kids who are homesick
Summer sunsets
Quiet mornings
Helen waking up early
Kids who have more jobs than they have time for
4H projects
Hot showers
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