My nephew, Patrick, is special. Sometimes we say Patrick has special needs. I think it is more accurate to say Patrick is just plain special.

His mom, my sister, passed away recently, you may remember. Last week we had a final memorial service where I invited our family members, to bless the small crypt where her remains were laid to rest. Each person, taking holy water was invited bless the space and to share a memory or offer a silent prayer of gratitude for the gift of Mary in their lives. Everyone did share beautiful thoughts of gratitude or treasured memories. I had asked Patrick to hold the pewter bowl containing the holy water that everyone dipped their hand in and made the sign of the cross on the glass of her final resting place. When everyone had done so, I took the bowl from Patrick, and without any direction, he the dipped his hand into the bowl and walked to the columbaria. He dropped to his knees, blessed the space with the holy water, then placed both of his hands on the glass and began to talk to his mom. He told her how much he missed her and loved her. He said, “We were a great team. You helped me with so many things. I don’t know how I am going to do everything without you. But I am 21 years old and I am going to try my best.” His heartfelt expression was true, sincere and touching. Those of us who witnessed it knew we were being blessed with his unaffected soulful expression of how many of us feel when faced with our toughest moments.

What I learned from Patrick’s childlike goodness and nature is:
Think less. Love more.
Speak from your heart.
Lead with gratitude.
Do your best even if what you face seems daunting.
And remember what a great team we are together.

The dad who came up to me in the soda aisle of Sentry probably doesn’t know he made my day. As I pondered the kind of seltzer water I was supposed to buy, smiling, he approached me and said, “Did you see the Amazon commercial?” I knew exactly what he meant… “Yes, the knee pads and the priest and the imam?” “Yes!” he said, “I couldn’t believe I saw it right after Family Program!” “I know isn’t it great that we are on the same page, the same message from Family Program and Amazon” And inside I am cheering, “Yeah, when Church is relevant!”

A little background… the adults in Family Program just had a Parent Café discussion on the question,

How do you raise children who are strong in their Catholic identity but also can relate to those of other faiths? A challenging question, don’t you think?

The commercial the dad was referring to depicts a visit between two old friends, a priest and a Muslim imam.

As they each get up for their discussion, they privately (they think…) note their aching knees. In the next scene, you see the priest and the imam each are visited by an Amazon delivery, having each sent the other, knee pads. In the last scene, each of them is using the gift as a cushion kneeling in prayer.

Of course, I loved the commercial. But beyond that good will message sent into the world, my heart was lifted to witness a dad in our community integrating faith and life. Isn’t that what we all hope for? That our faith, our deepest beliefs and longings, are integrated into our everyday lives and that the messages from our Christian faith community are relevant to the myriad of issues that fill our days?

And I wonder what would happen if we more often took a page from that playbook of that commercial? We all hurt in some ways, often in more similar ways that we realize. And despite our differences if we choose the small acts of care can we change the world, one knee pad at a time?

Watch the commercial:

I have wondered a thousand times if I have done the right thing as a mom, a wife, a friend. Did I say things in a way that encouraged and lifted up those I love or discouraged them? Did I anticipate their needs and respond adequately? Was I warm, welcoming and kind?

Sometimes I forget to give myself credit for the small, simple things that I do for those I love. But even more often, I am not mindful of the things others do that remind me they love and care for me. I forget to say thank you. If I stop, for even a minute, I see how full of love my life is and it changes my perspective on most everything.

My husband emptied the dishwasher before I got home from work. (Actually he also turned it on before he left for work so the dishes got cleaned in the first place!) My son sent me a text yesterday just to ask how I was doing. My colleague understood when I was late on a deadline. My days are full of benedictions I walk past in a fog because I am thinking of the next thing on my agenda.

I thought of this because at my sister’s memorial last week, my nephew, Patrick, who has special needs, had his big brother read a note from him. It read:
Dear Mom,
I love you.
I miss you.
Thanks for making my lunches.
Love,
Patrick

Thanks, Patrick, for reminding me to say thank you for the little things that make life rich. Thanks for reminding me to appreciate the million simple ways we say “I love you” transforming common acts into the blessings they are.

I witnessed a sweet conversation between two of my grandsons. They were seated at our high island stools sharing a snack. It looked something like a scene out of Cheers except instead of sharing a beer they were drinking water out of Ninja Turtle cups. I heard Mason, age 4 ½, ask his cousin, Natey, age 6, if Maria was his sister. Natey affirmed, “Yes, she is.” Mason said, a bit wistfully, “God gives you sisters.”

Mason knew this because he had requested one from his mom earlier in the week. She responded to him that indeed, it is God who “gives” sisters. She explained it was not a request she could honor on her own.  But she added, “You can pray for one.” Upon hearing this Mason folded his hands, bowed his head and respectfully requested, “God, please give me a sister.” He then immediately turned to his mom and asked, “What did He say?”

This is why I listen so intently to the conversations of children. Children get some things as adults we grow out of, like knowing our complete dependence on God and living each moment in trust that God has the answers. How often do I converse with God and expect a clear direct answer? I pray and wait, but what I really want is an answer, a solution, preferably straightway.

I ask God directly and confess I turn as quickly as a child to God and expect to get what I ask for. Though I may have decades of time and experience beyond that of a child, when it comes to the real mysteries in life we seem to be in a similar boat.

Maybe, like Mason, I have to learn to wait in watchful trust. The answers will unfold, maybe not right away, but in God’s time. But in the meantime, I might mention the sister idea to God myself.

This summer I was part of a national panel on the topic of “Children at Risk.” Other panelists covered issues, such as, children with special needs and children who were abused or exploited.

I was asked to address the topic of children who are at risk because of coming from families of divorce. As a parent who had experienced divorce and as a pastoral minister who has facilitated numerous divorced parent support groups I had some thoughts on the topic. As a parent I was always focused on creating the optimal situation for my children in spite of the divorce. In ministry my focus is helping people find the hope in their suffering as well as spiritual and emotional recovery. But the responsibility to represent children of divorce compelled me to think more deeply and broadly about this issue. And, in fact, research shows there are particular risks for children of divorce. Hopefully awareness of them gives us the opportunity to minimize those risks and offer meaningful support.

As I explored the topic I began to think of this as an invisible way a child could be at risk. We do not always know a child in our midst is a child of divorce. In our churches, sports teams, schools, extracurricular activities, a child of divorce may not be immediately identifiable. Yet, the statistics show a challenge. A significant percentage of children will experience the divorce of their parents. Since the 1980’s the divorce rate in the United States is about 50%. The Pew Center, in “Parenting in America” (Fall 2015), Parents with Minor Children, reported 45% of children live with two married parents in their first marriage. In 1960 that statistic was 73%. Divorce is a significant and growing issue that affects many children.

In spite of the personal and pastoral experience I have had with divorce I don’t know that I initially thought about how children of divorce are inherently at risk. But the more I researched the topic the more I wondered if this might not be an important conversation to have with parents, and in our schools and our churches.

Parents of divorce are often struggling with many things from finances to faith. They often feel like they failed and can carry burdens of shame, guilt and can deal with many emotional challenges like anger, betrayal, and abandonment. Divorce has been described as a loss on multiple levels: physical, financial, emotional and spiritual. And this might pose the greatest risk. Children of divorce have parents that may be incredibly stressed in multiple ways at the same time their sense of self and support system erodes. I am convinced that the most important gift a parent can give a child through the experience of divorce is to work through these issues and challenges with other adults. Parents, the foundation of love and trust for a child, may be experiencing unstable circumstances. The most stable force in a child’s life, parents, may be moving, literally and figuratively. In talking with parents going through divorce I described this time of their life by saying, “your world is shaking.” And I saw heads go up and down as if to say… someone knows my world. The worst thing a parent can do is to put a child in the role of “helping” the parent through this experience. Extended family, a support group of other caring adults, competent therapists and spiritual guides can give parents the opportunity to heal and be better parents to their child.

I have heard experts say, “Divorce is never good for children.” The research about divorce and children can be overwhelmingly pessimistic. While that may be true it seems critical to ask, “How can we make this better for children?”

Over this summer, in subsequent posts, I will explore this topic of, Children of Divorce, an issue which we may not pay enough attention to. We know the statistics of divorce. But what are the strategies that optimize their childhood and long term healing? What makes the difference between a child at risk and a resilient child? How can parents, teachers and church help families though this experience? Let’s begin by never using the phrase broken families. Let’s look for a better term that does not label them with the judgmental phrase “broken.” Maybe we can simply call them families.