Stay.

For the past several years, along with countless others, I've chosen a word to define my year.  In the past I've had words like grace, know, and present. This year my word is STAY.  It started as a joke to a friend: "My word should be stay, as in: I'm not going to run away." It was a hard year last year.  There were many times I did want to run away.  But over time the word took on a different meaning: Stay the course.  Be steady.   Be consistent.  Plant your feet and stand strong.  We have experienced so much change over the past year and a half.  We've been on a roller coaster of emotions, and living with teenagers and a pre-teen and two youngers, there will always be ups and downs.  To be honest, sometimes I ride the emotional roller coaster right along with them.  And although I'm human, and I give myself grace for that, it's not helpful for me or them.

I am working through a study on prayer right now and this is the verse I was journaling about this week:

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth.  I pray that from His glorious, unlimited resources, He will empower you with inner strength through His Spirit.  Ephesians 3:14-16 NLT

I wanted to explore that phrase: "inner strength."  What does that mean?  Inner strength is different than outer strength.  It's not physical -- it's emotional and spiritual.  It's the ability to stay calm and controlled in the middle of overwhelming, stressful, or frustrating experiences.  It's thinking through your actions and responding with intention, not reacting out of emotion.  It's that person who is steady, consistent, and wise in the middle of crazy circumstances.  We all know people who freak out when they get stressed and create unnecessary drama and tension in an already stressful situation.  To be perfectly honest, I can lean this way sometimes too.  I can only handle so much before I want to run-- bolt out the door and get away from everything.  Or maybe feel like I'm going to explode and I end up saying things I regret later.  It requires incredible inner strength to stay calm.

This is why God tells us we can't do it alone.  The Creator of everything in heaven and earth has unlimited resources at His disposal.  He has power we cannot even fathom.  And in our moment of weakness, He has the power to calm us, steady us, come alongside us.  His power IS made perfect in our weakness.

I see so many parallels between this and parenting.  I'm reading a book right now about  the link between a child's neurological development and the way a parent reacts to misbehavior.  Human brains begin developing before birth, and a child's brain is not fully developed until the mid-20's. That explains a lot, right?  During this time, the brain is constantly changing -- learning and adapting depending on experience.

When an infant or young child experiences trauma during these early developmental years (even in the womb) it enormously impacts brain development.  That child's capacity for handling stress is compromised.  Their ability to think through and make logical decisions is affected.  They are easily overwhelmed and are wired to think only of their own survival.

All adoption involves trauma.  There is profound loss at some level -- loss of a parent, loss of caregivers, loss of stability, loss of nurturing, loss of friends, loss of home.  Some have been through wars.  Some have seen people die in front of them.  Some have lived through disease.  Some have lived through abuse.  Every adopted child is a survivor.  Every one has been impacted in some way by the trauma they lived through.  And because of that, they need us.  They need us to be compassionate.  They need us to lower our expectations.  They need us to remember where they came from and that they may not have the tools that other children have.  They need us to pursue them.  They need unconditional acceptance.  They need loving support as they learn how to live in a new world.  They need someone who is willing to fight for them, especially when they want to give up and when they are pushing us away.  They need people who will be consistent, remain steady, and stay.

Even without any obvious trauma, our children need us. I'm learning that I have sometimes expected too much out of my children.  If their brains are not fully developed until their twenties, why am I surprised when they make bad choices?  Why do I expect them to act like me?  When my youngest son gets angry, he lashes out.  It's an automatic response and he hasn't learned yet how to control his reaction.  Instead of lashing out at him and getting angry at him, he needs me to come alongside of him, empathize with his emotion, and teach him the healthy way to deal with his anger.  This isn't to say he doesn't have boundaries. It is not ever okay to throw and hit things when you're mad.  But within those boundaries I want to come alongside and support and help and train --- not tower over and yell and punish and isolate.

"It is unfair to assume that our children are making decisions using fully formed, perfectly functioning brains and can view the world as we do."  --No Drama Discipline by Daniel Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson

In this book, the authors explain that when we discipline with threats (verbal or nonverbal), we "activate defensive circuits" in our children's brains, which almost always lead to escalating emotions.  It sets off an automatic response of survival -- fight, flight, freeze, or faint.  In these situations, our children's brains are programmed to self-protect.  They aren't thinking; they are reacting.  They aren't capable in this moment of producing logical behavior. They need us to not be in a reactive state, but to remain calm, nurture with empathy, remain open, and show them that we are not a threat.  Then they are able to relax and we are able to move towards training.

Last week Jonas (age 7) did his homework and proudly showed it to me.  I told him he did a great job and praised him for his hard work.  But, there was one word that was incorrect and needed to be fixed.  For whatever reason, he went into meltdown mode immediately.  He crumpled his paper.  He threw his pencil and every other writing utensil on the counter. He started screaming: "I already did it!  I'm not fixing it! NO!" He threw himself on the floor.  I stood there dumbfounded. I could feel myself getting instantly angry too.  I wanted him to stop.  His screaming stressed me out.  He was interrupting my dinner making.  And he was totally overreacting.

But...I tried to remember what I had just read that morning.  Jonas needed me.  He needed me to stay calm.  He needed me to try to understand him.  He needed me to empathize with his emotions, however ridiculous they seemed to me.  I got down on one knee and drew him close to me and hugged him.  I rubbed his back as he sobbed, and kept holding him until eventually he stopped crying.  I told him, "I'll help you, hon. I'm here.  I can help you."  He calmed down, I asked him to pick up his pencil off the floor, and then we finished the homework together.  When it was done, I talked to him about anger, and that it is never okay to throw things when we are angry.  I told him I am here to help him, and that I want him to work on taking a deep breath when he feels mad, instead of lashing out.  He listened.  He said sorry.  He said he wants to do better next time.

What if I had reacted out of my own anger?  I probably would have raised my voice at him.  Probably I would've marched him up to his room.  I would have told him in my stern voice to sit on his bed and stop crying.  Calm down.  Come back downstairs when you get control of yourself.  I may have shut the door too hard, and stomped downstairs. I have done all of these things.  And although I may achieve the same result, I believe I also may lose something in the process - the ability to connect with my child in their moment of need. The opportunity to be present with him and help him through his pain (even if it seemed completely illogical to me).

"Our children are human and unpredictable.  They won't always respond well even if we are.  But they will see that we love and respect them, even as we discipline them.  They'll know that when they are upset or acting inappropriately, we'll be there for them.  And with them.  We don't turn our back or reject them when they're upset.  Our love isn't conditional on their behavior.  This kind of predictable, sensitive, loving, relational discipline allows kids to feel safe, and gives them the freedom to become independent and able to think through decisions, comprehend what they feel, consider others' perspectives, and come to sound conclusions on their own." --Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson

In the same way, we are human and unpredictable. And God understands that about us and promises to be the One who is not human and is predictable.  He is consistent.  He is compassionate.  He loves unconditionally and pursues relentlessly.  He has unlimited resources at His disposal and He can make us strong when we feel weak. When we are overemotional and overwhelmed, He promises to come alongside of us and help, to be the strong One.  He will give us inner strength. Just as I am longing to do this for my child, He longs to do this for His children -- us.  He promises to be there always -- with open arms and loving acceptance. No matter how ridiculous our behavior may be, He promises to STAY.

Read more about childhood trauma and brain development: The Amazing Brain 

Listen to this TED talk to learn about the health effects of childhood trauma: Nadine Burke Harris: How childhood trauma affects health across a lifetime