chris and becka warner

Aidan fell asleep tonight while Chris and I were watching TV. Since we were at a friend’s house, I had to carry him upstairs to his own bed. I did so with the utmost care. I made sure he was wrapped up in his blankets with his head turned so the light wouldn’t hit his face and wake him up. I walked carefully up the stairs, taking care not to catch my shoes on the steps (crocs are great to wear around the house but they are notorious tripping hazards!). I was almost to our room, when I turned to close a hallway door behind me. I did so slowly and quietly, so I didn’t wake Aidan. All of the sudden, I felt some resistance in the door and Aidan woke up crying. I looked down to see that I had pinched his foot in the door. Not hard enough to really hurt him but enough to make him cry. Hard enough to make me feel like an awful mom.

Since I spend my every waking moment nurturing and caring for Aidan, this simple accident felt like a major failure. The more I thought about the accident (small and silly as it may seem, it didn’t even leave a bruise on his toes), the more I realized that I have wrong expectations about what it means to be a mom. Being a good mom doesn’t mean that Aidan will never experience pain or suffer in his lifetime. But when he does face pain or hardship, my job is to guide him through it with love and insight. As hard as I try, I cannot protect him from accidents, illnesses or harm. As he gets older, he’ll get better at hurting himself (and hopefully I’ll become more aware of where his toes are when I’m shutting doors). There’ll be scraped knees and bumps on the head. Later there will be broken relationships and failed goals. I could try and help him avoid those things, but sooner or later, I’ve just got to let the boy have some freedom to play and to live (within reason and safety, of course). As he gets older, I have to learn to give him more independence and assert myself as safety officer just a little bit less. I know I can kill the joy of just about anything by announcing all the possible hazards associated with it, so this is going to be a tough one for me!

Aidan is a big boy now and he knows what he likes. Here are a few of his favorite things:

Getting his picture taken and then trying to see how it turned out on the digital camera;

biting, and later, snuggling with his special blankie;

pushing cars in front of him as he crawls around (wearing dad’s hat);

inspecting the fire hose;

outings (on bikes, in strollers, by the car, train or bus…he loves to be on the go!);

playing with Chris’ alarm clock;

watching a Thomas the Train sing-a-long video on You Tube;

and reading books: Noah’s friends and an ABC picture book are two of his favorites now.

Some of his least favorite things:

staying still to get a diaper changed or to get dressed;

remaining indoors too long (he crawls to the door, bangs on it and yells to be let out);

too many kisses, especially on his forehead (if people try to kiss him and he feels that his space is invaded, he pushes them away while shaking his head “no”);

snacks (he doesn’t get the concept. He’d just rather have a whole meal!);

socks (he pulls them off and bites them until they are soggy and then throws them on the floor);

and he despises chunks of banana (but he eats just about everything else!). And just to show how much he’s grown, here’s a photo from his first meal of solid food, at 4 1/2 months…

Today we had a short window of dry weather so we rode to Amsterdam Bos. It’s a forest just outside of the city and not too far from where we are house sitting. There are miles of bike and walking trails and we cut through just a small portion of them. Here are some of the pictures that we took:

Aidan is now nine months old and he’s changed so much in the last few weeks. He’s very expressive and likes to (loudly) shares his feelings on diapers changes and how long it’s taking for breakfast to be ready. He still loves bike rides, but he’s usually asleep by the time we get home:

Aidan has also discovered how to take off his socks…

…and attempts to pull off his shirt. (It’s a relief that he hasn’t figured out how to remove his diaper!):

He’s crawling really well now and on warmer days, we take him out to the park so he can crawl around on the grass:

He’s also perfecting his standing and pulls himself up on a wide range of objects. Lately, we catch him pulling himself up in his bed so that he can see his reflection in the mirror across the room. Just yesterday, he started waving to himself in the mirror! It’s very cute.

Last week I was asked to help out with a new staff training day. The ministry team that we work with was giving some teaching on how to function in such a diverse organization. Myself and three others from different ethnic backgrounds shared our experiences working cross-culturally. First, a man from Venezuela shared some of the biggest challenges he faced when he came to Holland. He had a lot of trouble with greetings. Instead of the enthusiastic hugs that Venezuelans give each other when they meet, he was shocked that people could pass by him in the hallway without even saying “hello”. He shared the frustration and the rejection that he felt, until he recognized that it wasn’t a personal problem but a cultural difference. Today, he’s very well adapted to the culture and at the same time, he still has his Venezuelan flair.

Two others shared as well: a Dutch woman gave her perspective as someone from the host culture; and a man from Zimbabwe shared his challenges and how he overcame them. I also got to talk about what it’s like being an American in Europe, where people tend to judge me based on my nationality (or rather, the politics and culture of my nationality!) and not for who I am as a person. At the end of the training session all of the new staff had the opportunity to share something. I was amazed at the response; there was a lot of heated discussion, tough questions, newly found cultural understanding and even some unresolved pain coming up. At the very heart of it, I got the sense that people were so grateful that they could share part of their story and at the same time, come to appreciate others’ stories a little bit more.

This week, our organization started a three month training course for leaders. Seventy people from at least thirty different nations arrived on the base to receive training and develop vision for their ministries all over the world. Chris and I won’t be part of this training directly, but I mention it because one week of the training will be focused on this whole area of intercultural relationships.  Our team leader will be facilitating the training, which will be similar to the intercultural workshop we facilitated in June. In some ways, this whole issue is kind of like the big white elephant in the room of world missions: everyone knows it’s there, but no one wants to talk about it.  But if we don’t, we can’t move forward. We really believe that this is such a significant moment; to have leaders from all over the world gathered together and equipped to work together in unity. Would you please pray for this week of training? Thanks!!