For These ... I Give Thanks

Yesterday was Father's Day and all of my social media feeds were filled to overflowing with loving tributes to fathers both living and gone, coupled with photos of preciously held memories. I posted a pic of my husband and me with our kids and son-in-law, I called my dad, and I even texted my brother to wish him a happy day. But the whole day had me thinking about something that I used to say during every children's sermon I gave when I was still in ordained ministry and Mother's or Father's Day would roll around -- we shouldn't need to set aside a special day to tell the people that we love that they are important to us. We should be honoring, remembering, and loving our parents every day. Our spouses should know how wonderful we think they are based on our daily actions and not just because we said so in a Facebook post. Sure, I can Tweet to the world that my kids are awesome, but do I tell them to their faces ... on a regular basis?

Much has been written about the fact that the more seemingly connected we become virtually, the less connected we are able to be in real life. I'm not sure of how true that is, but I do know that loving each other ... day in and day out ... requires effort. And, I also know that it is important.

When I was a kid and Mother's Day or Father's Day would roll around, I would inevitably ask: "What about Kid's Day?" After a few years, I knew the parental response by heart: "Every day is Kid's Day." I would usually argue that it wasn't true, that I didn't get presents every day nor did I get to pick out a special meal every day. But, I also knew that there wasn't a day that went by when I didn't understand myself to be loved, treasured, and valued by my parents. In that sense, my parents were right ... every day really was "my" day.

Some rights reserved by Valerie Reneé

Who in your life may be wondering if they will ever have a "them" day? Is it your kids? An aging aunt or uncle that you haven't seen in a while? Maybe it's your spouse. Or, it could be that friend you've been meaning to call.

What would our world look like if we were intentional about making every day, someone's day? If it's been a while since you told someone that you love how important they are to you ... take the time to make today their day.

Fixing Things

Some rights reserved by pecooper98362

Most of my best friends tend to be fixers. I myself am a fixer. We want to fix things because we care and because we often have an over-inflated sense of our own abilities to "make things better." I am fairly convinced that I lasted far-longer in ordained ministry than I otherwise should have because of my determination to fix ... situations, relationships, people.

There is a lot to be said for fixers. It usually means that we want to be kind, caring, and compassionate. Unfortunately, it also means that sometimes we get involved in things we shouldn't, get frustrated when we can't fix things, and take on more than what is ours to take one.

It's a hard lesson for fixers to learn: not only can we not fix everything, we can't fix most things.

One of my best friends - a fixer if ever there was one - recently went to stay with his aging parents for a while to help them get things, as he put it, in order. There were definitely things that needed fixing: finding suitable care for his dad, tending to finances that had gone too long ignored, and various odd-jobs around the house. But there was also the reality that some of it ... maybe even a good portion of it ... just simply wasn't going to get done ... at least, not immediately and probably not just by one person ... no matter how caring, kind, and loving that one person might be. It was frustrating for my fixer friend that he couldn't just make it "right" and it was frustrating for me, his fixer friend, that I could't just make it all better for him.

But, in the grand scheme of things, he did something more important than fixing: he was present. And, that, in and of itself, was more important than any fixing that did or did not occur. He was present to his aging father who is facing an uncertain journey towards a most certain inevitability. He was present to his mother whose own inability to be able to fix and control things so that they turn out okay has caused her no small amount of frustration and short-temperedness as well. He gave them what all of us need and crave: love -- not in doing any one or two or a million specific things for them, but simply by being with them.

It is an important lesson for us fixers to learn, that sometimes, probably even most often, we help the most not by doing but simply by being who we are and sharing that with those who are most important in our lives.