Every once in a while I peruse past blog posts. Honestly, I think that the Lori of 2020 was probably smarter and had more to say than the Lori of 2025. Here's the setting for you: I am at my desk after a great Algebra class trying to think about polynomials and what I can share with you. My husband is traveling for work, my older sons are at work, and I'm planning a taco party tonight in the hopes that cleanup will be simple and I will be asleep early. I decide to read the blog from February 2020 and am reminded that my family is a think tank. I should be embracing our differences, attempts to help, and solutions. Instead of being annoyed that we have to fill the woodbox again and that no one added wood to the fire while I was in class, I should be grateful for the opportunity to be sharpened. In walks son #3, with a proposal. In a roundabout way he finally confesses that he wants macaroni and cheese and tomato soup for dinner. Who refuses a taco party in favor of pasta? What do I do?
We are a collection of people learning, living, and cooking together. Therefore, I should willingly surrender my control of the taco party and yield to the pasta, but it's not that easy. It should be, but it's not. I did retreat from the kitchen and am now here sharing with you my current predicament: I need to be thankful that my two sons are making dinner. Instead of worrying about if they'll burn it (truly I hear my son clapping and I smell something burning. He doesn't seem bothered by it. Why? Because he doesn't notice it yet. Lord help me) or who is going to cleanup, and instead of being annoyed that they needed me to help with recipes, and that dinner will clearly be late, which means bed time will be late, I need a reset. I am not a single individual. I am a part of something greater than myself. I need to trust my child and I need to trust God. Mentorship is hardest when it requires us to back off and be content with the outcome.