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The Great Deception – That little things really don’t matter

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Creative Commons: Adam Bermingham

Every day that we’re breathing we’re making countless decisions that range from minor to major concerning multiple aspect of our lives – whether food, finances or family, to career, creativity or care. Frequently the major things trump the minor – since there are certain responsibilities in life that have to be fulfilled. We mustn’t neglect these crucial parts of our lives; but neither should we let the interludes and short spaces of time slip away unnoticed.

The little things are not necessarily unimportant or trivial – take teeth brushing or charging our phones, for instance. We wouldn’t dream of removing them from our daily routine. We know they make a difference.

In the same way, I’ve been considering the impact of small actions, gestures or habits over our lives as a whole. It’s tempting to overlook the little things, to view them as insignificant or of no great value. Yet much of life is made up of little things. Over time, those minor choices and habits may have multiple knock on effects that end up being life changing or radically important. Countless minutes here and there add up to hours and days. Time is like currency, the pennies add up; likewise our actions form the tapestry of our lives.

Consider a common spending habit: The decision to make your own lunch every day instead of dropping into a café could mean saving £50 a month (if you spent £1.50 on a packed lunch rather than £4.00 or more at your favourite hangout). That’s a £600 yearly saving. You could buy an iPad for that and still have change! But maybe you really like going to cafes and don’t want an iPad – that’s fine, the choice is yours. We all have different preferences. But if you wanted to move somewhere nicer with a slightly higher rent, changing your lunch habits could mean you might be able to afford it.

Or how about walking more instead of driving everywhere? (I know, really not very possible for those out in the sticks.)  Still, you could choose to take the stairs or park at the far end of the car park. Over time, you’ll be stacking up little chunks of calorie burners and toning those muscles. (Have you tried walking fast up three flights of stairs lately? It IS exercise!)

The above examples might well be the obvious examples, but what about other daily decisions? Who to follow on Twitter or who to talk to at the end of a meeting? Whether to attend a certain function or event or stay home, whether to ask that person out for coffee? Whether to write that letter of complaint (I did – to Legoland, and got free tickets to Warwick Castle) or whether to chat to your neighbour for a few minutes. Whether to watch the TV or find out what’s up with your unusually quiet child?

‘Does it really matter?’ some will be asking right now.

Yes it does! Sometimes it may be more significant than you realise, other times the little things might have no great consequence – but still, you’ll find that you’ve been intentional with your actions, your time and your relationships.

Valuing the little things should not be confused with the phrase ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff’. That’s a different idea altogether – and one that I would not dispute in any way. We really shouldn’t waste time worrying or fretting over minor matters that are not important or that we’re unable to change. It’s also not much use revisiting past events or actions, wondering where we went wrong or what we should have done differently. Instead of mulling over past decisions, choose to take more care over what you decide in future.

Sometimes it’s good to think of little snippets of time as opportunities. An opportunity to phone a friend, or to be still and reflect. An opportunity to get some fresh air or to do something creative; an opportunity to ask a question or take a risk.

It’s easy to think that five minutes of writing or praying or walking won’t make any difference. Most won’t bother; we think we have to set aside at least an hour to something for it to be worth doing. Or we think we must dash away, and miss talking to someone who could have been really interesting. Or maybe we think that we couldn’t possibly rest for three minutes. (Try it sometimes, three minutes with your eyes closed in a quiet place – it can really help to de-stress  you during a manic day. Just don’t try it while driving!)

Making the most of little moments, like a hand across your partner’s shoulder or choosing to look at the trees or the skyline on your way to work, can add up to make a typical dull day richer or more interesting. No matter how busy we are, we even have choice over how to spend our thought life. While walking or driving or washing up, we can choose to direct our thoughts a certain way. We don’t have to hold on to an angry thought or a complaint.

For me, what springs to mind especially are the little interactions that I bothered to have with people I met that led to great opportunities.

I once asked a visiting speaker at a school where I was teaching whether he needed any writers. An exchange of business cards at the end of a lesson – led to a freelance writing opportunity for me. Another time, a decision to follow a certain person on Twitter, led to a writing event in London. The little things certainly can make a difference to our lives.

In the Bible, there’s a verse about ‘making the most of every opportunity’ [Colossians 4:5]. Although this is referring to sharing the good news with non-believers, I think it serves well to remind us how to make the most of every moment of our lives, in every context. Let’s not get sucked into the great deception – that we can only achieve something or make a difference if we spend lots of time on something. Taking just a little time to smile at someone or offer help can be something really significant from their point of view. Likewise, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ communicates more than you think.

The little things in our day accumulate over the years – particularly in the area of relationships. A few minutes spent thinking about the important people in your life and how to please them or build stronger ties can make a massive difference over time. It would be detrimental to dismiss the value of little thoughts, words and deeds.

I feel challenged to be more intentional about how I spend snippets of spare time across the week and to consider more how little actions can indeed have big effects. How about you? Has any small decision or action been greatly significant to you in the long run?

[For a contrasting perspective on matters of time and life, check out this archived post: A Question of Time.]

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Youthwork Blog/ FaithWalk

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I recently attended a Youthwork Writers’ Masterclass in London, led by Martin Saunders. I had a great day learning some nifty writing stuff and met a bunch of lovely people.

Check out my guest blog post ‘The Adult Group’ over at Youthwork Magazine’s website. The article explores how we view youth in a church setting and the trouble with treating young people as a homogeneous group.

http://youthwork-magazine.co.uk/main/blogs/theadultgroup

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The Huhne Effect: What parents can learn from one man’s fall from grace

My older sons have yet to enter the world of serious texters, those who fire off dozens of messages, questions or inane thoughts every day. Despite owning mobile phones for quite some time now, the allure of being in constant contact with anyone, not least me, hasn’t quite taken off. This may be in part due to the fact that the phones generally get left at home and partly because they’ve yet to be enamoured by girls seeking their attention. Playing games on their iPod Touches still seems to be the preferred digital activity. So, for the time being anyway, our conversations or disagreements take place largely in person. (And I dread the thought of every exchange between me and an irate son being forever put to print.)

One thing’s for sure. Most parents in Britain will have learned a thing or two from the disclosure of texts between disgraced politician Chris Huhne and his teenage son, Peter. Most will have reeled in shock at the blatant hatred and profanity contained within Peter’s messages or cringed at the sheer extent of insults contained within his words. Teenagers aren’t known for thinking before expressing their opinion; texts are no different in this respect.

The personal exchanges between a bitter son and his errant father are poignant, for they reveal the extent to which a child can feel deeply hurt and let down by their parent’s actions. The words chosen by Peter reflect a sense of utter betrayal, while the pleas of desperation for his father to come clean show how much children can possess a strong sense of justice concerning wrongdoing (if they have been brought up within any strong moral framework). To witness a parent stoop so low morally has long-lasting, devastating effects on a child and we gain painful insight into the massive effort that will be needed to restore some semblance of a relationship once such damage has been inflicted.

Despite Huhne’s catalogue of indiscretions, most parents will feel a tinge of compassion for the man considering the dire circumstances in which he now finds himself. For we, too, are fallible. Hopefully not wilfully deceitful and law-breaking as in Huhne’s case; but we know we fail at parenting sometimes, too, and that our children can be easily disappointed by our inability to live up to their expectations of what constitutes a perfect parent.

In Huhne’s favour lies the obvious expression of patience and love for his son, speaking kindly even in the face of such vitriolic outbursts from his own flesh and blood.  And so a parent should rightly respond; we are the grownups, the ones supposedly capable of rational, measured responses. We also see the bigger picture – a future in which the ties between us and our child remain, no matter what may have come between them. Nothing is worth severing that bond – and perhaps we should all consider the consequences of our actions beforehand instead of trying to repair damage afterwards.

In putting forth his point of view calmly and not ceasing to write genuine messages of care, Huhne may well have demonstrated his one major saving grace in this debacle in the public eye: that of an unrelenting, loving parent. In doing so, he has also unwittingly reflected the father heart of God, who never ceases to love his children, despite their flaws and angry rants. Unlike Huhne, though, God is a faithful, perfect father who never lies to his children. God remains committed to us, even when we’re verging on losing faith or feel wounded by what’s been allowed to occur in our lives. He never stops loving us, but continues to extend his compassion and grace. How comforting to know that God’s words to us can always be trusted, since he is wholly infallible and good.

For all the furore surrounding this very public family breakdown, I would hope that all parents glean something positive from this story, including the value of both personal and professional integrity.

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The Perils of Procrastination

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Image: Vilseskogen, Creative Commons

I’m sitting here writing because the mood has struck yet I’m painfully aware that I have a couple of deadlines to meet – namely long schools presentations that I must have nailed to near perfection for rehearsals next week. For the last few weeks, they’ve been on my radar, the paperwork imploring me to get to it and learn it. I’ve done all sorts of other preparation – highlighting, creating prompt cards, recording the presentations on my phone – but the main thrust of the task exists in staring at those cards and reciting them ad nauseam until the words flow effortlessly from my tongue.

But I keep procrastinating, finding other activities and jobs to do – whether folding laundry (which for a family of five is an almost never-ending task), planning future events, writing or lurking on Twitter. Incoming phone calls have been allowed to linger for longer than usual and distractions from the children have been strangely welcomed – anything to avoid getting down to learning those texts.

You’d think I would have learnt by now that it’s good to complete tasks way before deadlines. I’ve experienced the dread of getting a 10,000 word final year dissertation complete (in German, even more terrifying) – and realising the foolishness of not pacing myself.  I’ve panicked after staying up to ungodly hours to get lesson plans done for an observation or inspection, all the while chiding myself for not getting them sorted at least a week before. I’ve cringed with embarrassment at the naff Valentines card I bought my husband one year, when we were living in New York City and I put off looking for one until late afternoon on the 13th. There are no major supermarkets stuffed full of Hallmark in central Manhattan; the shelves of all the bookstores and local shops were alarmingly bereft of suitable cards by 4.30pm. Why did I even leave it so late? (Admittedly there are a million and one distractions in NYC, and we hadn’t been there long so I was still finding my way around, searching for apartments and sorting out admin for the start of our expat life. Making a card was not an option, as we were staying in a hotel.)

Anyway, you get the idea. I’ve definitely been a pro at procrastinating. I started to change tack in the last few years when I realised how much stress could be avoided by getting things done way in advance of deadlines. Having children with unpredictable crises now and again (such as throwing up all night) taught me that I cannot rely on living my life last minute. I think much of this has to do with how one was brought up – and, yes, my parents were equally haphazard with timing, often rushing everywhere and leaving things ‘til the last minute.

Procrastination causes unnecessary stress. Which in turn makes you grumpy to those around who have to endure your panicked tirades about what you desperately must get done before it’s too late. It also turns every event – even joyful ones such as a family get-together – into far from joyful occasions. Instead of being free to enjoy such a date, you’re hurried and in a flap over all the things you need to organise because they’ve been put off until they absolutely had to be done. If you’re a procrastinator, you’re constantly running two steps behind, never really at ease with being in the moment. You can’t relax. And here’s the irony – all the time you spend putting things off, your thoughts are still constantly invaded by the task. You end up spending far more mind and soul energy on the task than you would have done if you just got to it earlier. I decided that the habit had to be broken.

How? Simply by being ruthless. Almost imagining that a deadline is in fact several days or weeks earlier and putting it at the top of a list of priorities, rather than letting it be pushed aside in favour of other events and distractions. For less major occasions and dates, this still involves making sure that everything is ready so that you can leave the house in good time. (I’m still learning this one. At the weekend, I felt quite smug about turning up on time at a restaurant to meet friends, only to soon discover that I was at the wrong restaurant! Thankfully, I was still within the time frame, as I had left in good time and could get to the correct one before they had seated). ‘Be prepared’ is a worthy motto, not just for Scouts, I’ve learned.

The result? Life is more peaceful, and you feel ready for the task at hand. Instead of constantly thinking: ‘I could have done that so much better if I’d just had a little more time’, you feel content that you have given something your best shot and secure in the knowledge that you are not letting others down. So to any other procrastinators out there, all I can say is – stop labelling yourself and decide to turn away from this frightful habit. And when procrastination tries to wrangle its way back into your daily pattern, use every ounce of strength to show it the door. The stress relief will be oh so worth it.

And with that thought, I’m off to learn those scripts…

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Why we’re not meant to be happy…

Photo credit: Jeephead, Creative Commons

Photo credit: Jeephead, Creative Commons

Our culture is obsessed with the attainment of happiness. There are books, articles and movies which focus on how to find it, while the word is forever inscribed in the American constitution as one of its core features. Yes, the pursuit of happiness has surely been a hot topic since generations past.

Parents are often quoted as saying that the one thing they want for their children above all others, is happiness. It seems a reasonable thing to which one should aspire. Surely everyone has a right to find happiness in life?

So why then have I become convinced that we’ve been sorely misguided and that, in actual fact, we’re not meant to be happy?

Before you shout at the screen and determine that I’ve temporarily lost a few marbles, hear me out for just a couple of minutes.

Maybe I should begin by clarifying what I am not saying…
I’m not saying we shouldn’t engage in activities or pursue relationships that we love or enjoy, or make us feel happy.

I’m not saying we should be miserable in life and complain all the time.

I’m not saying we should sacrifice any and everything to only serve others and make them happy.

What I do believe is that there are seasons in life, times that fluctuate from great excitement to times of sadness or disappointment. To experience a range of human emotion is to be accepted as part of life and is built into our psyche; it’s good for us. Both the highs and lows of our lives bind us together with those with whom we share our souls. The highs would not be so precious if we had not also succumbed to the raging hardships of lows. How else could we possibly understand what others are going through if we only ever experienced elation?

To imagine that we should possibly feel happy all the time is verging on ludicrous. Even if all our desires and wishes were to come true, sooner or later we would experience loss – whether from death, or from separation (a friend or loved one moving on to pursue their happiness).

Research has shown that many grand lottery winners are not happier several years later. They have accrued everything they could ever want, been overwhelmed by luxury, and still they are unhappy about certain turn of events – such as loss of community or their former job. Many of them hanker after their old, simple life. It was less complicated then.*

As many have said before, I also would agree that joy and contentment are different entities. Despite a torrent of misfortune and negative life occurrences it is possible to choose to focus on a few good things and remain joyful or content with one’s lot. There’s always something to be thankful for.

The reason I’m convinced we are not meant to be in a perpetual state of happiness is this: We would cease aspiring to anything and we would achieve nothing of lasting legacy.

Imagine if William Wilberforce had been happy with the political status and standing in the community he had attained. Imagine if Michael Angelo had been happy to paint just one corner of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. It’s precisely our unhappiness, our dissatisfaction with the way things are, that compels us into action and to pursue change in the situations around us. It’s in our time of discontent that we can be stirred to make a difference. It’s those who cannot sit back and revel in their wealth who go on to fight poverty, it’s those who see injustice and cannot rest oblivious in that knowledge who go on to help rescue those in dire need.

Even in our personal lives, unhappiness serves a purpose. When we are aware that our relationships are lacking or that our time is being frittered away on minor matters, we can heed that inner voice, that inner dissatisfaction and cause it to kick start change and remedy those areas which need attention. It’s unhappiness that also drives ambition, which has caused many a tea lady or busboy to reject their default station in life and work their way up the ranks of a company. It’s the years of being hard up that often motivate a young person to work hard and achieve more.

Unhappiness – or perhaps ‘restlessness’ might be a better word –  is good for us, as long as it drives us to take action and make stepping stones of change. Only if we wallow in unhappiness will we regress and find ourselves pulled down into a pit of despair, causing us to go round in circles of mediocrity or spin in whirlwinds of negativity. There’s always something of value to aspire to, always a way we can turn a negative state into something positive. Often, all it takes is an acknowledgement that we can be part of a greater solution, that we then begin to focus on the bigger picture and are able to envision our future role in the world around us.

I’m reading a great book by Nick Vujicic at the moment, the motivational speaker who has no arms or legs. In Unstoppable he quotes Frederick Douglas, the American slave turned social activist, who said, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” It struck me how we all make progress as a result of overcoming difficulty – difficulty, which at the time made us feel pretty unhappy.

Next time you feel unhappy, ask yourself what you could be a part of to effect major change. There are situations you’ve endured that have led you precisely to this point. Your experience might prove invaluable to a life changing movement or could propel you into a key role. If nothing else, your character has been shaped and developed as a result of the tough times. Character doesn’t tend to be developed during seasons of happiness.

If Jesus had been happy sitting around having tea at Mary and Martha’s or helping his friends reel in big catches of fish all day, he would not have got riled up about the Pharisees’ hypocrisy or driven out the money changers in the temple. He could have relaxed on the sea of Galilee  telling stories for the rest of his life. Instead, Jesus didn’t settle in one place; he was led to different towns where he could affect and influence different crowds. He didn’t shy away from challenging people or situations.

Maybe we are supposed to get upset or deeply uncomfortable about some things affecting our world. Perhaps we should consciously stir our unhappiness towards something productive or worth changing. In that way we can actually be the conduit of good news to others, making a positive difference in the lives and circumstances around us. I, for one, want to be an active participant in making my life count for something. And if that means that I’m frequently in a state of restlessness, so be it.

*See this article about unhappy lottery winners.

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Living Sculptures

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I treasure living near a beautiful, well maintained park, taking frequent short walks through the week, either after the morning school run or at lunchtime. Fresh air, exercise and plant life help to revitalize the mind, body and soul. This poem was written both before and after the recent snowfall here in the UK.

Trees like living sculptures, natural works of art

Designs crafted an age before, bound up in seeds of unique DNA

Preserved through changing seasons, revealing shades of green, boughs of brown

A feast for the eyes on this

An ordinary day, inhaling oxygen

Seeping unseen from leaves and branches here since

Generations before as wind moves audibly through

Swaying, majestic arms

Longing , welcoming those in appreciation of their constant

Steadfast presence

Watching over streams of visitors

Passing beneath their shifting shadows

 

Now winter white descends

Transforming landscape, views reborn

Icicles hanging, frozen webs, frosty twigs

A covering of snow delighting senses

Misty air lingers between branches

Stillness disturbed only by crunching of ice and snow beneath feet

Freezing cold resists the usual walkers

An eerie quiet embraces me

Like a shroud of mystery

Oh the wonder of nature, the salience of seasons

Where worlds collide

Metamorphosis overnight

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Hanging Out With The Smokers/ FaithWalk

Photo Credit: Julie Bocchino/ Creative Commons

A sea of faces surrounded me after the church service. I scanned the room but somehow felt disconnected. Everyone seemed caught up in conversations or huddles. I wasn’t in the mood to try and be sociable or welcome the newcomers. So I withdrew from the hub of activity and chatter and headed outside.

Although it was a bitterly cold winter’s day, the sun shone brilliantly, casting warmth, light and shadows around the walls of the building. Leaning against the sand coloured bricks, I enjoyed the sun’s rays and the solitude for a few moments. After a while a couple of others came to join me. But they were there for a different purpose…to light up and enjoy a smoke. Then came another. One rolled her own cigarette, the others drew theirs from a packet.

We started up a conversation; it was laid back and I realised how little I knew of these people who sat a few rows away from me minutes earlier.

I don’t normally chat to these individuals, perhaps giving only a cursory glance and a polite ‘hello’ upon passing by over coffee. They have different styles and backgrounds to me, we probably don’t have much in common – though a couple of them also have kids.

One chap in a wheelchair explained how he’d arrived a bit late and missed coffee. But he wasn’t moaning, he was smiling about his mistake of setting off too late. I had also missed my cuppa, but wasn’t too pleased about it.

Another woman mentioned someone we knew who’s rather marginalised and looks a bit of a sorry state most of the time. I discovered that she had invited him for Christmas dinner upon finding out that he would be all alone. This from a woman with a young family and who is obviously not well off. I was humbled. She had been Christ-like in opening her home to a lonely, difficult  person; I didn’t really want the hassle of even considering something like that.

One of my sons also came outside to join me. He was fed up and wanted to go home. He often finds church boring. But he observed these smokers and listened to the conversation. The guy in the wheelchair asked him about gaming and his iPod touch. My son’s face lit up, pleased that some interest was shown in him.

These people I hung out with do not have easy lives or much money. Yes, they were wasting some on cigarettes, but maybe I’m a bit profligate when it comes to wine or shoes at times. Some could perhaps have been described as typical working class or on the sidelines. They hadn’t reached a high level of education or attained notable status in the community or church. But somehow they inspired me and somehow I learned from them. I enjoyed their company, their smiles and acceptance. I didn’t have to be anything other than me.

It reminded me that it’s good to be broadminded and get to know those from different communities or groups to the one you’re settled in. In those few short minutes outside among some wafts of cigarette smoke, I experienced true Christian fellowship – all divisive barriers down, everyone an equal child of God. And I found it quite refreshing. It’s encouraged me to seek opportunities to be on the edge, to gain a different perspective and to learn from others in unsuspecting places. Having just heard a gripping talk on issues of social justice it seemed quite an appropriate lesson to learn.

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Caught in a Quandary (Over helping strangers and being charitable versus ignoring them and walking by…)

I was on my way home from walking my youngest son to school this morning when I turned the corner into our street. I was carrying a bag of shopping, having just popped into a local shop for some essentials.

And that’s when she approached me, a petite, young Latvian lady, reasonably dressed, with pleading eyes and a request. “Please, can you help me?”

In that split second I had to decide whether I would engage with her or mumble ‘sorry’ and walk on. I decided she was low risk and engaged.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

“I need make phone call. Please. My phone no credit.”

She showed me her low cost, old looking phone. “Need to call boyfriend, problems with passport.”

I looked at her. She appeared distressed. I said I can’t let her use my phone to call Latvia.

“No, not Latvia, he live near here!” she argued.

The phone tucked in my jacket pocket, I quickly weighed up what to do. And that’s when I decided that I didn’t want to risk being mugged and all the hassle of setting up a new phone which is essentially my diary and whole life organisation tool. I use it for lists, weather, German radio, email and a whole load of other stuff. I don’t have an iPhone, it’s not that precious to me – but my time is. I didn’t want to risk being a mug by potentially allowing a total stranger to run off with my phone.

So I reached into my jeans pocket and offered her 50p, explaining she could make a phone call in town (just a few minutes walk away). She declined the coin. “No, no, I need make call here.”

At that point I knew I made the right decision, and I said “I’m sorry, then I can’t help you.” I continued on my walk home, convinced that she was probably a drug addict trying to find goods to sell for a next fix, or maybe this was her way of ‘earning’ money.

Such encounters are tricky. Something within me, influenced in no small part by my faith, finds it exceedingly difficult to simply ignore someone who has approached me for help. I want to help someone if I can, but I’m acutely aware that I cannot solve everyone’s problems.

Yesterday I was in town and passed by a couple of Big Issue sellers. They were easier to ignore, because they were making a general plea for shoppers to buy their magazine. They weren’t looking at anyone in particular. I felt justified in ignoring them, but a little guilty in not looking at them properly to say ‘No Thank You’. After all, I really didn’t want to buy their magazine. I don’t buy any magazines anymore, I tend to read online.

But the second time, I felt convicted that the guy was making an effort to help himself but everyone was just walking by. How must that feel, to be homeless and stand out in the cold all day trying to sell something that no one wants? I turned back, and gave him a meagre amount (£1) for free, explaining that I didn’t want the Big Issue. He thanked me and appeared grateful. It wasn’t much that I gave, but I’m sure it cheered him up a little.

Now that wasn’t too difficult, and donating one coin doesn’t hurt much at all. But what I find harder than giving away cash is giving away time or friendship.

A few years ago there was a strange lady who lived in one of the flats across the street from us. She spoke in a weird way, looked dishevelled and it was clear that she had some kind of mental health problem. She loved to talk to me and the children if she met us out and about, and would regularly knock on our door – just to chat or ask questions.

I made an effort to be friendly, but she could easily chat for half an hour or more. When you have young children to prepare dinner for, and a number of other parental responsibilities, you often have to set boundaries in place by politely, yet firmly saying that you can’t chat for any longer.

I could have invited her in, but I felt uneasy about that. Mental health issues can range from mild to severe – such as schizophrenia – and again, I didn’t feel right about letting someone into my home who might be a risk. Maybe if I didn’t have children I would have felt differently. As it was, I always made an effort to smile, be friendly and chat whenever I could.

One time she knocked on my door, requesting a cup of water. A cup of water?! (When she lived feet away from my house?) Baffled, I couldn’t ignore the scripture in my head about ‘Whoever gives a cup of water to one of the least of my children has done it unto me’ (Jesus). I decided not to tell her to go home, but went and fetched her a glass of water; it wasn’t that difficult.

And that’s what I think we need to take away from this. Sometimes, offering a smile, a helping hand, a coin isn’t that difficult. We should help others more often. But we also need to take care, since there are unfortunately some characters who would seek to exploit or harm us. Discerning the difference is no easy task, though.

At any rate, I don’t think we should give up on our readiness to help others in their time of need. It’s part of what makes us human.

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Epic Battles of Parenting: How YouTube is Corrupting Our Children (one rap at a time…)

YouTube video: Epic Battles of History

Most parents consider what media is being consumed by their children and dutifully provide age appropriate DVDs and games, and switch off the TV before the 9pm watershed. Parental settings are placed on smartphones and other technological paraphernalia.

We are aware that some material out there is not good to be consumed by our 11 or 8 year olds. We install filters on our internet too (OpenDNS is a great, free service that works via the router to all computers in the house). We feel we’re at least making an effort to protect our children from sinister content and feel we can relax a little, right?

Wrong!

Since time immemorial, older kids introduce the younger ones to vile language and rude jokes. Can’t really be stopped, I accept that. But that’s where it used to stay: in the school playground or dinner hall – confined to a few minutes a day or subject to threats of detention if overheard by a zealous teacher. Most kids realised it was pretty naughty and took care over what they repeated.

But then someone came up with YouTube. I love YouTube; I think it’s a great idea and a great tool. But I wish they would come up with a YouTube for kids, that was free from the uncensored bile that is spewing forth from its videos these days.

The same parent that won’t let their child watch The Simpsons because of its rude content, may not realise that young Jack is happily viewing Epic Rap Battles of History which all his friends are raving about.

To save you the bother, I’ll explain: These are witty little raps between two characters from history or popular culture who engage in a slanging match of sorts, whereby they sing their own praises while dissing their opponent in uber derogative fashion. Thus we have Hitler vs Darth Vader, Moses vs Santa and Dr Seuss vs William Shakespeare.  Sounds fun?

It is, to an extent. It’s a clever idea and very entertaining.

But this is 18+ stuff that you would have only come across on the comedian circuits or late night Channel  4 programming in a previous generation.

The first video I mentioned in this piece, at 1 minute 41 seconds long, contains 9 expletives or crude phrases. That’s one every eleven seconds! And it’s being watched repeatedly and regurgitated by the masses at a secondary school near you.

Perhaps more disconcerting than the profanity, is the misrepresentation of historic figures, along with the trivialization of some major events (holocaust, slavery and the like). Prepare to see a whole load of Hitler impersonations in school corridors very soon. And unsuspecting eleven year olds getting unwittingly put in detention or accused of racism for something they really don’t understand and haven’t been taught yet.

Thanks a lot, YouTube!

This is where parenting gets tricky. You can easily keep some unsavoury stuff away from your primary (elementary) aged children.  But be prepared for an onslaught of filth once your child enters secondary education.

I’m now thinking about blocking Youtube on the older boys’ iPod touches and only allowing it on a family computer at specified times. No, it won’t stop what they see at lunchtime, but it’ll prevent the multiple, mindless viewing.

Ugh, the challenges of the Internet Age. I don’t like to ban everything, but something needs to be done. We may have blocked the porn, but YouTube is broadcasting something akin to audio porn. And the masses are lapping it up. Hitler vs Darth Vader has racked up over 68 million views, and it’s readily available for your younger children to see too.

How do other parents handle these dilemmas?

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It’s That Time Again – New Year, New Start/ FaithWalk

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Graphics credit – Sweet Dreamz Design, Creative Commons

The wonder of fresh starts… Even the word ‘fresh’ conjures up images of warm, baked bread, newborn babies, crisp cotton sheets or budding shoots of spring. It just sounds right – something positive we should embrace.

As we approach another new year, the vibe online has begun to spread epically over the last few days. It’s all about resolutions, goals, plans and dreams.

We have grown accustomed to valuing the first day of the year, almost to mystical proportions; you can feel it in the air. The first day of January demands our attention.

Such is the fervour and interest in what others have begun or have planned, that it’s difficult not to get caught up in an urgency to formulate our own resolution; perhaps a measure of guilt or jealousy if we ourselves have not aspired to equally lofty goals.

A few days into January though, and often we find that the super plan to get fit, stop smoking or start a new daily habit, has been hijacked by other life events, crises or distractions. Failure looms over our heads and we think we may as well give up.

Perhaps our goal was too ambitious. So next year we make none at all. But deep down something tugs at our spirit, almost willing us to at least attempt a new start.

Something is built into our psyche, that propels us forward, urging us to not settle for mediocre, not settle for the way we are. We know that we are capable of more.

The beauty of the Christian life is that every day is a fresh start, a new chance to start again. We can defy Western convention which dictates when a clean page may begin, such as January 1st or a milestone birthday – whether 30th, 40th or 60th.

Nowhere in the Bible does it say… “And on the first day of the next year the man of God rose early and decided to change the course of his life by making a few major decisions and plans.”

No! We are not to be restricted by cultural norms or ancient traditions. Every day can start anew. Every day is an opportunity to pursue a goal or make a difference.

2 Corinthians 5:17 confirms this: “Anyone who is joined to Christ is a new being; the old is gone, the new has come.”

I love that. If my life is entwined with Christ’s, the new has come. That holds true every day of the year.

Now is the time to do what you know is right or begin what you know you must complete. Christ in you can make it possible.

A fresh start. Why wait a couple more days? December 30, 2012 can be the day you made a change that changed your life. Do it!

(Astute readers may note that in my last post I stated that that would be the last one of the year. Well I changed my mind and didn’t want to wait ’til New Year’s Day!)