After our daughters joined our family, I rapidly came
up empty handed as I searched for parenting tools to address
their particular needs. I had nothing. The conservative
Christian formulas and advice not only didn’t work, they made
things worse. I needed a radical parenting shift.
It is a well-documented phenomenon that human
beings will not change unless there is an overwhelming impetus
kicking us in the pants. For many of us, only deep and
profound pain provides enough motivation. Pain and failure as
a mom was a grace disguised that entered my life with a bang
and in both rough and gentle ways beckoned me to pursue
ways of health and healing. Backed into a corner and falling
apart, I had little choice but to listen and then respond.
Dear daughters of mine,
As I drive around town, I often come up on bumpers sporting these words,
“Who saved who?” Though meant to give honor to animals rescued, I
always think of you when I read these words.
Though your earliest days were difficult, I admire your spirit and inner
strength and courage. You amaze me. It is a gift and honor to stop, listen,
and receive your voice as you call me mom.
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