Back to School Blues for a Former Homeschool Family

Lately I’ve seen a lot of photos on the Internet of parents cheering and jumping for joy as their kids were packed off to start a new school year. Mom is giddy and the kids sour-faced as summer comes to an abrupt, but long-expected, halt.  Sure, they’re staged but the message comes through.

http://www.today.com/parents/moms-celebratory-back-school-dance-goes-viral-8C11041602

http://www.fox13news.com/trending/187237945-story

I used to hear parents say the same.  ‘Man, I can’t wait for school to start!  I have to get these kids out of the house and get things back to normal!’  I found it interesting.  I mean, I get it.  Kids, all kids, are loud and messy; grumpy and dirty, sometimes sick, always eating or sleeping.  But then again, they’re kids.  They can be equally funny, happy, joyous, entertaining, sweet, kind and helpful.  On the balance the good far outweighs the bad.

The way I see it, we signed on for it.  OK, maybe it was a romantic date and a glass of wine, but one way or the other, we brought them into this world and they are delights.  Not only so, they are the future.  The future of our families, our very DNA.  And they are certainly the future of our nation, our civilization, our various faiths or ideologies.

Perhaps I’m coming from a different perspective.  By way of full disclosure, we spent a lot of years home-schooling.    Some years, school was all year long, even if in lower doses. (Latin or geography in the pool, etc.)  But one reason we did it was that we knew our time with the children was ultimately short, and we wanted to make the most of all of it.  And we did, whether having class at home or visiting National Parks, every bit was a delight.

Fast forward.  One went to college, then another. And our youngest two are in public high school, a sophomore and a senior.  Mornings are no longer times of lavish breakfasts and learning/laughter around the table.  The clock is ticking, the bells waiting to ring.  The school year is not open for our exploration and delight; it is determined by the state and woe-betide anyone who runs afoul of the sanctum sanctorum of the 180 days of learning!  (Even if the last twenty or so are often spent doing remarkably little.)  Our lives belong to the state, in a sense.  Our trips can only happen when others take trips because everyone is on break together; on the approved break.

Our dining room, formerly known as class-room, is lined and packed with books and notebooks.  With old science kits and well-worn texts, as well as novels highlighted and annotated.  There are files with test papers kept for records or nostalgia.  The desktop computer once shared by four kids is sleeping; as it has for probably a full year or more.  The kids have moved on to their personal lap-tops. Perhaps the desktop dreams of those days gone by.

There are living remnants.  Our youngest still do homework under the bright lights of the dining room.  They still work on that expansive table which once housed our own kids and visiting co-op homeschool students, who were taught Latin by my well-organized and gentle bride.  (The same worn table where many holiday meals have been shared.)

Backpacks still lie about, and the two who remain at home still laugh when they aren’t stressed over AP exams or some other crisis.  We still go through food; and the older two visit and leave their mess, their empty soda cans, their laundry.

It’s still sweet.  But it changes every year.  As it should, I suppose.  But having watched the transitions, having seen our school house population shift and dwindle, I can tell you that every year when the kids go to school I am anything but joyous. I am broken and sad.  My playmates leave; as if I were the pre-school sibling, wishing I could go along, nose pressed to the window, counting the hours until their return.

 

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I walk around the yard, looking for them; for echoes, foot-prints, fleeting memories of summer delights.  In the house I sometimes walk past empty rooms; but seldom look inside at first.  It makes me miss them more.

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Every year I reflect; did I do it right?  Have we prepared them?  Did we miss something?  How could I have used the time better?

Yes, I know. It’s probably pathological.  But my point is merely that when the kids leave, Jan and I don’t celebrate.  Oh, we celebrate their growth and learning.  But we mourn just a bit every time.

IMG_2953

Sure, most of the photos and videos are just jokes.  Everybody, I think, misses their kids at least a little when school starts back.  But I wonder if any parent, jumping for joy as the bus pulls away, considers the chiral image of the scenario.  Will there be a day when you visit the adult kids, and as you leave they cheer? They post photos:  ‘mom and dad finally left!  We’re all so happy to get things back to normal!’  Maybe.  Kids remember.  And they know when they’re wanted, and when they aren’t.

Enjoy every minute. Celebrate the good times, the successes and joys.  Remember the hard ones.  But maybe, just maybe, it’s best not to cheer when the kids go away.  Because they’ll really go away, and go their separate ways, before you can play ‘Celebrate’ and dance your heart out.

And I suspect that if they feel welcome, it’s more likely they’ll come back to visit in years to come.

 

 

Watch for signs of depression in your teen.

This is my latest column in the SC Baptist Courier.  Teens are wonderful!  But that transition from childhood to adulthood can be so hard on them.  Please remember that they can be afflicted by depression, and watch yours carefully. And their friends!  Text follows link.

 

Wholly Healthy: Watch for signs of depression in your teen

It’s August, and that means that school is starting. Middle school and high school, in particular, are times of significant emotional challenges. Not only are students adapting to physical changes and emotional growth and maturity, the fact is that depression is a big problem for young people. In 2012, according to government statistics

http://www.childstats.gov/americaschildren/health4.asp, 11% of kids between ages of 12 and 17 had at least one major depressive episode. These episodes increase their risk of suicide and drug abuse.
All parents know that raising adolescents is a challenge. The complexities of adolescent culture are compounded by their even more complex brain chemistry. In the end it can be very difficult to sort through which behavioral changes are normal and which are pathologic and dangerous.
Because of this, it’s very important to educate yourself, and talk to your kids. And talk. And talk. If you think you’re being intrusive or invasive, that’s not necessarily bad. (In general, they want your attention more than they admit.) Young people will frequently say ‘everything is fine,’ when everything is far from fine and they are feeling sadness and despair.
It’s important to spend a lot of time with the kids. And while you do, to watch for signs of depression, like withdrawal from friends and family, loss of enjoyment of normal activities, expressions of guilt or worthlessness and increasing emotional outbursts. Be attentive to increased physical complaints such as fatigue and loss of appetite. This list just scratches the surface, so I’ve attached a link with more details. http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/teen-depression/symptoms-causes/dxc-20164556
Furthermore, as you talk to your kids, don’t be afraid (or ashamed) to snoop. Know what they’re doing, where they are going and who their friends are. Ask who they are texting, what they’re reading, and what they’re thinking about. And don’t accept ‘oh, nothing’ as an answer. They are always thinking about something.
And since most of them seem permanently attached to a telephone, snoop there as well. There are ways to track their phones and to follow the websites they visit and the texts they send and receive. And you can simply tell them that you want access to their passwords. Odds are you’re paying for the thing anyway. This isn’t to be mean, but to be diligent. The texts and searches on their phones can be clues to their emotional struggles and also to dangers or cries for help.
Remember that even kids with loving, attentive families can spiral into dangerous depression. Don’t forget that Christians have brains and depression is a real disease of the brain, not a moral or spiritual failure. So never be afraid to discuss it with the kids, admit that it’s real and seek counseling and medication as indicated.
Your efforts might just be life-saving.

Are Our Candidates ‘Christian’ Enough? Theology And Politics.

Should our Christianity influence our politics?  Apparently only in some situations.  This is my column in today’s Greenville News.  Not trying to push for one or the other candidate, so I’m not crazy about the title applied to it.

http://www.greenvilleonline.com/story/opinion/contributors/2016/08/14/ed-leap-but-seriously-would-jesus-vote-trump/88514404/

I’ve seen a lot of commentary lately that says Christians shouldn’t vote for Donald Trump. They tell us that he does not, in any way, behave like a Christian. Some of these observations actually come from Christians and are not without merit. But the majority I have seen have been directed from more secular individuals towards Christians.
Instead of WWJD (What Would Jesus Do), the question asked of the faithful seems to be WJVT: ‘Would Jesus Vote Trump?’ And it’s a good question, asked for a bad reason. What bad reason? Manipulation of believers for political ends.
It’s a weird election. I think most of us would like to press the reset button and start all over. But it’s August and these two are the main players in the farce which will raise the curtain on its last act in November. I understand both sides of the argument. In a country sharply divided, Trump and Hillary seem (on the surface) remarkably different. Whether they actually are, we won’t know until later. We’ll have to ‘elect one and see what’s in them,’ to borrow from Rep. Nancy Pelosi.
But I’m troubled by something. The same people who told Christians to take our religion and keep it out of politics (and largely out of public life in general) are now berating Christians who support The Donald because they aren’t properly employing their faith in the realm of politics.

Apparently, Christianity properly applied should be used as a screening tool to decide if a candidate is acceptable based on how closely he or she conforms to the popular notion of ‘Christian’ behavior.
I’m trying to imagine the outcry if, when appointing a Supreme Court Justice, a president opined, ‘I’m really not sure she’s Christian enough for the court.’ There would be no end of shocked citizens, deeply angered by a political decision based on Christianity.
I remember, not very long ago, when Christians applied scripture to the same-sex marriage debate. We were reminded in no uncertain terms that our beliefs had no place in the decision. Ditto for abortion. Christianity, it seems, has no place in policies regarding killing the unborn, and certainly shouldn’t play into decisions about whether or not to provide potentially abortifacient drugs! Take that, Little Sisters of the Poor! Silly Christians, keep your ideas and nutty beliefs to yourselves. This isn’t the year 1000, after all!
That is, unless we’re talking about the current presidential election, which is odd. For the most part, past candidates who were very Christian were also considered very unacceptable in the eyes of the media and the secular world. Candidates, for example, like Mike Huckabee, the Southern Baptist Preacher or Sen. Rick Santorum, the devout Catholic were far too ‘Christian’ to be considered for the presidency. Even Gov. Mitt Romney, Mormon, was just too ‘Mormon’ despite being a very nice, loving husband and father. Good grief, he was the Republican ‘anti-Trump!’
So by now many Christians have learned their lessons. In a grim political and cultural milieu, they have decided that maybe the loud fellow with the bad attitude, who says what many people are thinking, might just be ‘the guy.’ Besides, I don’t really think that Christians voting for Trump are under the delusion that he is representative of Christianity. They just think he might do things that are a little more in line with their beliefs, a little less likely to threaten their values. He might be ‘a little less bad.’ They know they may be wrong, that it’s a gamble. But those of us believers who know our history also realize that our brethren down the ages have been led by far worse (and far less ‘Christian’ ) leaders than either of the current candidates for Commander in Chief. And some of them were quite good for Christians in the end.
I’m not trying to convince anyone to vote for any candidate. Please, vote your conscience. But we should all try to have charity towards those on the other side, who support candidates for reasons probably more nuanced than we believe. (It’s much easier to call our enemies stupid than attribute any intelligent motives to their behaviors.)
And while I believe those who want religion to stay out of politics are ultimately unrealistic, they should at least be consistent. It’s terribly unfair to tell Christians to leave their faith outside the ballot box, but then condemn them for actually doing so.

Living the Locums Life: A Short Guide in Four Columns

Dear reader and locums travelers, past, present or future.  These are the four columns I have recently written for Emergency Medicine News as a series about locums emergency medicine.  For now, rather than post the entire text of each, or put them in four separate posts, I am lumping them together for your ease.

I hope you find this helpful!

Sincerely,

Edwin Leap

http://journals.lww.com/em-news/Fulltext/2016/05000/Life_in_Emergistan__An_Emergency_Physician_s_Guide.2.aspx

http://journals.lww.com/em-news/Fulltext/2016/06000/LIFE_IN_EMERGISTAN__Locums_Puts_the_World_in_Your.20.aspx

http://journals.lww.com/em-news/Fulltext/2016/07000/Life_in_Emergistan__High_Rates_and_Other_Perks_of.12.aspx

http://journals.lww.com/em-news/Fulltext/2016/08000/Life_in_Emergistan__Rules_for_Locums___Be.17.aspx

 

Dear Colleagues: you are not alone! (My column in the SCCEP newsletter, Summer, 2016)

http://www.sccep.org/

You Are Not Alone Guest Column: Dr. Edwin Leap

In this column, SCCEP Member and renowned columnist, Dr. Ed Leap, shares with us some heartfelt compassion and insight about being an emergency physician. Next month, SCCEP will award Dr. Ed Leap the Jack H. Warren Award in appreciation for his many years of leadership supporting the goals and missions of SCCEP and ACEP. Thank you Dr. Leap for your lifelong support of emergency clinicians (docs, nurses, techs) everywhere.

Dear emergency medicine physicians, You aren’t alone. This is very important for you to realize. I mean, I know you aren’t ‘alone.’ You have spouses and children, parents, siblings, neighbors, dogs and cats. That’s all good. You need them.  Also, every shift is chock-full of people and their maladies, which you heroically manage day in, day out. Patients are everywhere. Some are sick and some are injured, and many are addicted and a few are just lonely. They’re inescapable. And nurses. They’re all around also. The ones who carry out your orders, tend to your patients, sometimes ignore what you say and constantly interrupt your train of thought by putting EKGs in your face and shouting ‘Chest pain in room three will you see it!’ Or who constantly ask you ‘is the order in yet?’ You can’t escape them. Even a trip to the restroom will result in a phone call in short order.

Furthermore, there are students and residents to educate, and shape into excellent doctors. (Without killing anyone.) And there are consultants too. The ones who tell you ‘call me when the workup is finished,’ or ‘why didn’t you get the phosphorus level? How can I know what to do without the phosphorus level! Jeez!’ And there are those who refer patients to you. ‘Hey buddy, my patient has pneumonia and needs to be admitted to the hospitalist and has a bed but I need you to check him out first.’ The ones who send you their post-op complication one hour after the surgery.

There are other people all around too. There are administrators and managers, credentialing ladies, people tracking your times and your efficiency and evaluating your patient satisfaction scores. There are medical records people and coders tracking you day in, day out, to keep you on point with the endlessly important charting and billing that are the main purposes of your decades long education. Dear doctor, you aren’t alone. But not because of all of that.

Not because you’re under more scrutiny than at any time in the history of medicine. What I mean is, having traveled this great land of ours doing locums, I assure you that the struggles you face are present everywhere.  Oh, they vary in degrees. Those little oases untouched by the icy hand of EMR can be positively pleasant in their lack of complex charting requirements. And on night shift, in the middle of nowhere, in the mountains, there’s a paucity of people in general. But there will still be complex social situations, still be drug addicts, still be someone who wants to know about your door to needle time. Everywhere you go, there’s ‘that doctor’ who is simply surly and impossible to please when he’s on call.

When I say you aren’t alone, what I mean is that we are a fraternity (or a sorority if you wish). Perhaps better, we are a tribe, a clan, an extended family. Emergency medicine is a small specialty but what we do is so consistent across the country, and around the world, that we can all sit down at conferences or meetings, in airports or over dinner, and share the same stories, the same sorrows, the same laughs over the same archetypes. So when you come home and think that you’re the only one who thinks about quitting, you’re wrong.

We all do it now and then. When you think that maybe you’ve lost your patience with drug seekers, you’re wrong. We all lose it now and then. (I’m not proud…so I won’t go into it.)  If you think that you’re not fit for night shift because you feel terrible after being up, trust me you aren’t alone. Nights make everyone nuts. (As does day shift…and evening shift.) It’s a wonder we don’t all need psychiatric evaluation after long strings of sleeplessness coupled with complex care of the arguably the most demanding people on earth.

Are there days when you just want to go home and cry? Normal. Are there shifts you think you didn’t really know what was going on with anyone? Ditto. (PS, it usually means nothing was going on except drug seeking and the pursuit of work excuses.) Have you wanted to invite your on call specialist to the parking lot for a ‘come to Jesus meeting,’ and you think you have a problem? Nope, I’ve been there. And do you think that you might be the only physician with an EMR ‘inbox’ that’s full to the brim with requests you can barely understand? You aren’t. In fact, I suspect that delinquent charts have exploded in the last few years as charting becomes more and more complex.

Ladies and gentlemen, are there times you think you should have studied harder and tried for that ophthalmology residency? Haven’t we all. You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone in your troubles. But more important, you certainly are not alone in being part of the baddest, toughest, most compassionate and courageous group of physicians in the world.

You’re tough, you’re kind and you’re smart. You endure, no matter how hard or complex the shift, no matter how badly you feel.  You’re weary and irritable and pale. You’re hungry and thirsty and sometimes confused.

But kids, trust me. You’re awesome.

And you aren’t ever alone.

The endless in-box of EMR

I’m curious.  If we could survey American physicians of all specialities, in all locations, how many would have an empty ‘inbox’ on their electronic medical records system?

It seems to me that there is almost no way, with current EMR systems, to have an empty in-box.  There are always new charts we forget to complete, EKGs we didn’t document, orders we didn’t sign, mid-levels and students we failed to co-sign for, forms we didn’t complete (as hard as we tried).

In a sense, every shift is two shifts; patient care and data entry/chart completion.  Both require our attention, both are exhausting, intensive and all-encompassing, and each serves to distract us from the other.

And another thing:  we document so many things, and they are endlessly watched, from allergy warnings to billing data to ICD-10 codes (Bite from flaming squirrel on jet-ski, subsequent encounter.)

Who is reading and checking all of this?

I am comforted by the fact that doubtless, their inbox is also full.  But then, they aren’t seeing patients at the same time, are they?

Edwin

Solitude after the shift

I’m in the midst of a run of shifts in the emergency department. I’m doing locums away from home.  Last night I left work at about 3:30 am. (Late on a 6pm to 2am shift.)  It was busy; not crazy busy.  Just normal busy.  I finished my last note, wrapped up the information about the one patient I was leaving behind with the valiant night doctor, and headed out.

Sometimes it feels as if all of the decision making, dispositions and discussions leave me overwhelmed.  I’m sure I’m not alone here.  We query, examine, order, report, consult, discuss, cajole, argue, consult, conclude, admit, discharge and all the rest over our 8-12 hours of patient care.  That’s a lot of interaction.

Thus, walking out the double doors into the warm June night was delightful.  It was a relief.  And best of all, it was quiet.  I crossed the parking lot to my car and drove a short distance to the hotel where I’m staying.  I played the radio, because I was fatigued.  But when I stepped out of the car, even in the confines of the city, I was met by a cool breeze.  Oh delight!

I took my things to my room down the quiet hall and couldn’t resist. I walked back outside and sat on a bench.  It was still a cool breeze, precious in the Southern summer.  I looked at the crescent of the moon over the city.  Listened to the cars on the nearby highway.

Nobody asked me to look at an EKG, enter an order, plan a discharge, write a prescription, close a wound or make any sort of decision at all.  It was simply quiet.

It’s a rarity in the world of medicine; no, a rarity in the modern world as a whole.  We are never further away from the press of mankind than the phone in our pockets.  Arguments, news (good and bad), discussions, work, duties, forms, all waiting for our addicted eyes to look from the moon to the web.  And how often, electronics aside, do we separate ourselves from our fellow men and women and simply enjoy solitude?

It is for this reason that, on certain night shifts that are slower, I have been known to wander the halls of hospitals.  My foot-fall in empty hallways, the closed doors and darkened offices, it’s all a reassurance that at some point, rest and sleep are out there.  Even if I’m not sleeping, someone is.

It reminds me of this quote:

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”  Blaise Pascal.

Certainly, much of man’s unhappiness stems from never being able, being allowed, to sit quietly in a room alone.

I slept. Tonight I work again, 6pm to 2 am.  Whatever.  I only hope that I can carry the moon and the breeze and the quiet with me.

And that they will be there for me again tonight; hopefully at 2 rather than 3.  But I’ll take what I can get.

May you have times of precious solitude as well.

Appalachia Deserves Our Respect (And Already Has My Love)

This is my column in yesterday’s Greenville News.  Happy Birthday West Virginia!  June 20,1863.

http://www.greenvilleonline.com/story/opinion/contributors/2016/06/19/ed-leap-appalachia-deserves-our-respect/85974188/

 

photo

Tomorrow is June 20th, a special day in the hearts of my people; West Virginians. On June 20th, 1863, West Virginia entered the Union in the midst of a bloody struggle for the soul of the young nation. It was, prior to that, the sparsely populated, wilderness-filled backwater of the elegant, beloved Virginia, soul of the South. After June 20th, however, it was…well, a sparsely populated, wilderness-filled backwater all its own. But a free state that rejected slavery!
Those who live in South Carolina are generally well acquainted with my fellow West Virginians. I have a theory that West Virginians share a gene which, at various times of their lives, causes them to have an irresistible urge to drive to South Carolina’s coast. In fact, when the mines close down for two weeks every summer, untold numbers of miners and their families head to Myrtle Beach, which has been affectionately dubbed ‘the coal miner’s Riviera.’ Some of my earliest vacation memories are of the Grand Strand. My wife Jan, a true ‘coal-miner’s daughter’ has similar memories.
If you doubt the connection between SC and WV, I have a vignette: my brother-in-law Dave worked in the WV coal mines as a young man out of high school. His early cell-phone plan included, as local calls, Huntington and Charleston, WV and (you got it!) Myrtle Beach, SC.
I write about this today because West Virginia is in the heart of Appalachia, which stretches from Southern New York all the way to Northern Mississippi (passing through the Upstate of South Carolina). Appalachia is defined as a ‘cultural region,’ and indeed it is.
More to the point, I write this because Appalachia is struggling. Although poverty has improved over the decades, Appalachia as a whole still faces financial woes, much of it made worse by those who are all too anxious to kill coal, but provide no other employment options for those terminated as part of an environmental purge. As if the ‘coal industry’ is only some vast robotic behemoth, and does not represent the hopes and dreams, and often the only financial possibility, for an entire ‘cultural region’ of America.
Appalachia is also struggling with rampant drug addiction and broken by the many funerals, ruined lives and crimes that widespread addiction brings in its wake. From pill-mills dispensing oxycontin to meth labs and imported heroin, the toll in lost lives and lost hope is crushing.
When Jan and I have traveled home over the years, deeper and deeper into Appalachia, up Highway 23 through North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia and Kentucky and then home, it’s easy to see a place of magnificent beauty, resilient people and serious, inexpressible hopelessness. I never know if the drug abuse is the cause of the loss of hope, or the result of it. Cart, horse. It’s all tragic.
Sadly enough, America frequently just isn’t interested. Appalachian people are still acceptable sources of scorn for much of urban, coastal America. They’re live in ‘flyover country.’ Trailer-trash, hicks, rednecks. People who ‘cling to guns or religion or antipathy toward people who aren’t like them,’ to quote a well-known political figure. When a culture is endlessly mocked and derided, its people get the message loud and clear. Don’t try. It doesn’t matter.
But this June 20th I’d like to speak for my ancestors, and the forebears of so many, who settled in the Mountains of WV and other portions of Appalachia after leaving the press and stagnation of Europe. I’d like to speak for those who still live there, and who find solace and connection in the ghosts of their ancestors, the starkness of the mountains and valleys, in the life, faith, culture and music of the cities and towns. Like me, they stay there because in Appalachia, the past and the present are difficult but inextricable.
And if nostalgia isn’t enough, let us remember Appalachian people keep the lights (and i-Pads, DVR’s and electric cars) on by mining coal. They also provide timber and produce, work in important industries and share their region for the recreation of any and all. All too many have also shed their blood in America’s many wars, and continue to boldly, proudly ‘stand on the wall’ around the world.
America loves to talk about its multiculturalism. And one of its greatest cultures is firmly entrenched, despite its pains and struggles, in the vast region we call Appalachia. It deserves our respect.

Never Stop Discovering Your Spouse

Elysa photos 007

This is my most recent Greenville News column.  Inspired, of course, by my amazing wife Jan.  All my love baby!

http://www.greenvilleonline.com/story/opinion/contributors/2016/06/05/ed-leap-never-stop-discovering-your-spouse/85286660/

June is here, and while it certainly isn’t the only month for weddings, it is a popular one. This month, many young men will have a brand new thing called a wife, and many young women a thing called a husband. Both are perplexing, and both are wonderful. As such, I have some insight to share.
Gentlemen, what you have before you after the vows are said and rings exchanged, is a woman of your very own. She has been thinking about this her whole life. In fact, she has been unconsciously (and consciously) evaluating men as husband material since she first realized that there were boys in the world other than her father and brothers. She chose you. (Don’t question it, just be glad…she knows you’re imperfect, trust me.) And what she wants is your love and devotion. She wants you to stand by her and be faithful. She needs to know you won’t run away when things get tough. She needs to know that you still think she’s amazing when her life is a hot mess and her hair won’t do anything right and she just cries for no reason. She does not expect you to figure it out or fix it, as much as you want to do that.
The great wonder is that she just wants you (you among all other men on earth!) to share life with her, hold her, protect her and get old with her. She could have had people better looking, smarter, stronger or richer and every smart husband realizes this. She wanted you to share her mind, heart and body. She probably wants to have your baby. (It’s a compliment of the highest order.) Something about you drew her in to your orbit. Observe this advice, honor her dreams, speak kindly and treat her gently, love her lavishly and you will never in this life find an ally more true or comfort more wondrous.
This beautiful thing before you is yours; and she should be your favorite hobby, best friend, greatest confidant. She will give all of that back and more. But remember what the Little Prince said: ‘You are responsible forever for what you have tamed.’
Ladies? What you have is a man, also of your very own. As a young man, he didn’t probably didn’t think about weddings or marriage as much as you did. But deep inside, he wanted it. He wanted a woman to care for. Good men like caring for things; we protect, we defend, we provide. It’s our wiring. On some level, even as you wove your spell he ‘hunted and gathered’ you. In a hilarious expression of the whole process, ‘he chased you till you caught him,’ as my wife used to say. He is sometimes slow to understand things natural to you. Like feelings. He is sometimes uncomfortable with lengthy discussions of emotions. He is fascinated by your feminine ways, tears, declarations of love and complicated rituals. He struggles with bra-straps and is confused by make-up, skin products and your many shoes. But in all his simplicity, he is far more complex than your friends (or society) lets you believe. He is in awe of you and if you are kind to him, encourage and respect him, he will do anything you ask just to make you happy.
He needs a little space sometimes. And honest to goodness, there are times when he says ‘I’m not thinking about anything,’ and is telling the absolute truth. We men go to that place sometimes, even though your multi-tasking brains can’t fathom it. Let the man have it now and then. Just a little down-time. He’ll be back.
Your husband, properly treated, will love you and the children with a devotion that comes fairly close to worship. And when he says ‘you’re beautiful,’ don’t tell him no, don’t deny it. He really believes it because you are his, and he’s amazed that you agreed to marry him in the first place.
Husbands and wives, his whole process is an incredible mystery. Two people, two complex creatures, with dreams, hopes, wounds, bad habits and all the rest come together and make, as the Bible says, ‘one flesh.’ Two humans who barely know themselves choose to know another and love them for life.
As you pass through the portal of the wedding into the new life called marriage, may you never stop discovering the unfolding, life-long wonder that is your spouse.

After Graduation, Love the Kids. Just Don’t Worship Them

Sam and Tyler K5 graduationhttp://www.greenvilleonline.com/story/opinion/contributors/2016/05/22/ed-leap-after-graduation-love-your-kids/84556782/

Graduation is upon us once more. All across the area high, schools, trade schools and colleges are releasing their eager, bright eyed students into the the next phase of their lives. My wife and I have graduated several times, and have graduated two sons. It’s an emotional, beautiful time when Pomp and Circumstance turns moms into weeping messes of mascara and tissue, and dads into great, red-eyed lumps who choke back tears and say muffled things like ‘I…I’m fo prd ov you. I lvvv you,’ sniff, sniff.

The kids are emotional but boy, are they ready. They toss those hats into the air (as parents try to grab them as keepsakes) and they head off to jobs, or to parties or sometimes to pre-loaded cars headed off for the beach. Some go to their own weddings and some go to basic training, or their first overseas deployment with the armed forces. Big stuff all around.
But as I thought about the whole process I realized that one of the great dangers of a successful society (and by any measure of the world at large or history ours qualifies), is that we are capable of investing all of our worth as parents into the activities and successes of our offspring who are now springing off on their own.

As such, we forget something very fundamental. Once the kids grow up, they can largely do what they want. Just like most of us did. But what does that mean exactly?

Well, first of all those graduates with all of their dreams, like ’I want to do forensics,’ ‘I want to be a marine biologist,’ ‘I want to be attorney general,’ etc. may or may not do those things. Their dreams are useful guiding stars at first, but most of them will change course for a variety of reasons. Thus, I am not a full-time magazine journalist as I originally intended. Nor an Air Force navigator…probably good given my tendency to get lost.

We love to brag about what our kids will do. I certainly do. They are hints of the future, and sometimes we believe their successes will somehow atone for our own shortcomings, our own failed dreams. But it’s important to step back on occasion and realize that the future may look very different from what they, and I, and all of us, think it will be for them.

Second, they may decide that the educational path we hoped for them to follow isn’t right. These days, many college majors are a poor economic bet compared to heating and air or welding. My professional friends in medicine and law are particularly stricken by this. When one says to another, ‘Tim dropped out of USC. He’s decided he wants to be a contractor,’ there’s an almost palpable tension and a pat on the shoulder. ‘Well, he may go back to school later.’ Or he may be a wildly successful contractor. Or he may just like building things more than thinking about things that don’t interest him. Who knew?

Third, they will love and marry people we didn’t expect. Just like we did. We can have all kinds of plans for betrothal and hopes that they’ll find this girl or that guy. But in the end, as Pascal said, ’the heart has reasons of which reason knows not.’

And now the hardest, dear weeping parents, and many of you know this. They will make their own mistakes. They will lose jobs and ruin relationships. They will set themselves back. They will violate, sometimes, the law of man and often the law of God. This is called being human. For Christians, it’s tough realizing your kid is a sinner too. (In the secular, world, the equivalent might be realizing your liberal family raised a Republican and you have to love them anyway. Cheer up! Prodigals do return!)
Allow me to review: the kids will study what they want, work at what they want, love whomever they want and make big mistakes. The best we can do is show the grace and love throughout all of it.

But to love them well, we have to take them off the altar. Our worth as humans cannot be wrapped up in our children. That’s a terrifying and overwhelming idolatry and it holds them to far too high a standard.

So as they get those certificates and diplomas, remember they’re humans. Hope and fear, success and struggle in dynamic tension.

And love them.