Slow Cooking At High Speed

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“Life Comes At You Fast.”

 

This was the key phrase in a Nationwide Insurance advertising campaign that first debuted in the mid-2000s. The messaging was intended to remind the viewer that you just never know what is around the corner in this life, so be prepared with a great insurance company. (One of my favorites in this campaign is this one featuring MC Hammer and his 15 minutes of fame.)

 

The commercial that had a bigger impact on me was this one, where Dad is pushing his little boy in the tree swing, only to have his son transform instantly into a teenager. He crashes into Dad, knocking him down, and the tag line “Life Comes At You Fast” appears on the screen. When this commercial came out, I was the father of a four-year-old and a one-year-old. My youngest son hadn’t even been born yet. This commercial was a great reminder of how fast life flies by, before you know it, your children are adults. On the first day of the school year, Hope posted about the special season that we are in. She wrote: “I can sense that we have crossed a significant bridge and things have hit a new speed from here on out.”

 

It hit me that we have entered the latter phases of the season that we talked about and prayed about when we were dating and first married. Thanks to some great advice from some blended family experts, we’ve always viewed the process of blending our family together like slow cooking in a crock pot. This has been our mantra from the time that Hope and I realized that we were heading toward marriage. Many blended families, if not the majority, make the mistake of putting their families in a pressure cooker and trying to force everything to happen. When that is the mindset, there isn’t time for anyone to adjust, they’re just supposed to accept how things are and do the best they can to make it work. The slow-cooking mindset allows for failure, forgiveness, recovery, and redirection. One of the things that we constantly reminded ourselves early on is that it normally takes 5-7 years after remarriage for the family unit to find that “new normal.”

 

Somehow, we are already smack in the middle of that time period. In May of next year, we will have been married for 7 years. About a month after our anniversary, my oldest son will be graduating high school. Life will change quite a bit, but not as much as it changed for us in the couple of years leading up to our marriage. That provides a sense of peace as life continues at this breakneck speed. When my first marriage ended, I was faced with the reality that my sons were going to spend half of their boyhood and teen years with their mom and away from me, further accelerating the speed at which life passes. Half the time, twice the speed.

 

In my younger years, a mistake that I made quite often was trying to force things to happen before it was time. That caused quite a bit of heartache and frustration for me, and also caused me to point fingers at other people instead of looking inside of myself. When Hope and I married, I knew without a doubt that if I reverted back to that mindset and tried to force our family into this new normal before it was time, I would end up exactly where I did before. There was too much at stake for all of us for that to happen. We had to figure out how to slow cook at high speed. It seems to make no sense at all that the way to make all of this work is to cook slowly, when everything is moving so fast. But that is the only way to make it work. Letting go. Praying. Forgiving. Learning. And letting go some more, because life comes at you fast.

Today is the first day of the rest of their life…

Today was a biggie. The oldest started his senior year of high school.  Number two began his freshman year and number three became a middle-schooler.  I can sense that we have crossed a significant bridge and things have hit a new speed from here on out. I’d like to share this event from the perspective of the step-mom.

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Leading up to this morning, we were all speculating how it would feel. All through the summer I’ve had moments where I would smile internally (and sometimes let a tear of contentment leak out) as I realized next summer may be completely different. We will have one who leaves the nest and heads off to college, perhaps before we take another family vacation. The reservation for five will become four and things will feel very different. I’ve also begun to prepare for what happens after the season of raising them. When it is time for them to make their own decisions and have the liberty to choose where they spend their time and with whom.
I’ve learned a lot in the past few years about what I can expect and what I can let go of. God has given me a ton of grace to release ownership at all and understand that these boys have two parents and I am not one of them. Although the responsibility and cost is equal, the benefit of loyalty and pride belong to the biologicals. It doesn’t sting like it used to, and now that time has brought clarity, I have a peace about this fact. The reality can still blindside me at times, however, what has emerged, is the truth that I am impacting their lives in a significant way that even they cannot see.
Last night, we circled up in the living room after a great family time around the table. We held hands in a circle and waited for their father to pray for and over them for the coming school year. One by one, I laid my hands on them and prayed what the Lord laid on my heart to pray. As my spirit connected with their Creator on their behalf, I felt a release of promise and blessing. In the holy moments following that prayer time, I settled into a quiet understanding that these are the moments that are given to me to steward. These eternal moments of sowing into the fabric of their spirit, I get to play a part in their shaping that we can’t quite get our heads around.
I ache in a deep deep way for the unquestioned loyalty that a child gives their parent. I ache for the unconditional acceptance that a child willingly gives their father and mother. I cry for the hesitation I can still feel when they hug me sometimes.  I long for a day when I don’t feel the guilt for many unspoken resentments that come with blended life.  But moments like last night, when I can pronounce the things of heaven over the life of these children, go a long way to bring perspective and healing.
I love the children in my life and today has reminded me that although these babies (including nieces and nephews) may not carry my physical DNA, I can pray that one day they will carry my spiritual DNA.  I believe that their destiny will be fuller because their Hopey has prayed.
Happy New (School) Year!