When you are undone by your children

One of the lessons I find I am learning more as I get older, is that often my children are my greatest teachers. I know in my head that I’m supposed to be the one who sets an example and models good behaviour, but there are times when that role is reversed and I need to take a leaf out of their book, rather than the other way round.

Our son, Conor, is a keen climber and, after a number of qualifying rounds during the Autumn, qualified for a grand final which took place in Manchester recently. It enabled him to compete against the best climbers of his age from various regions across the UK and Ireland, and it was a brilliant event. I had the pleasure of accompanying him for part of the 2 day competition. Climbing is a wonderful sport to watch, and I love the way climbers encourage and support one another in trying to figure out ways of solving problems and to help each other do their best. There’s a great social side, too, as the athletes go away together on trips and have fun together.

At this competition, there are large numbers and the margins between the climbers are quite small, so the competition is pretty intense. I watched Conor complete one of his climbs on his first attempt. Prior to Conor’s attempt, another climber had come off the wall as he got his hands and feet in the wrong position and couldn’t make the move he needed to make to progress up the boulder. I watched as he spoke to Conor about where he needed to put his hands and feet on his second attempt. Conor watched his fellow competitor successfully complete the climb, he cheered him on and fistpumped him once he got back down to the ground. In fact, he couldn’t have been more pleased than if he had completed it himself.

In my competitive little head I was thinking to myself, if I had successfully completed a climb that an opponent was finding difficult, I wouldn’t be giving him advice about how to do it. I wouldn’t have cheered him on as he was doing his climb, nor celebrated with him after for getting the points for completing the climb. It’s a great tribute to Conor’s coaches and his climbing buddies that he is learning that, in competition, it’s not about every man for himself. It’s about doing your best, being helpful to others and helping them to achieve things they wouldn’t achieve without your help. It’s about people of all ages mixing together and celebrating seeing others achieve things they never thought possible.

Later that night, after competition had finished, I sat in a burger bar with some other parents. All our children were eating at the table behind, and all we could hear was chatter and laughter, and one of the parents said, “Isn’t this amazing, to see them having such a brilliant time together and doing their best to pick up those who had had a tough day and emphasise these things rather than who comes first and who is the best.” They were all winners for getting there and competing in such a generous and inspiring way.

We had a visit from some health professionals recently. They were having tough conversations with us about transitioning our daughter into adult services when she turns 18. They were talking about policy changes, and trying to remove various pieces of equipment which we would see as very necessary for our daughter’s wellbeing. They were kind and very professional in telling us information that we found hard to take in. At times, as we tried to advocate for her, it got quite robust and heated. They understood that taking away some of these things would make life more complex and difficult for us, but policies had to be adhered to. I made the point about policies being made by people in offices who have no concept of the realities and challenges facing parents of children with complex needs.

As Lucy sat through the meeting with us, she seemed to sense how challenging it was for both the health professionals and for ourselves. During the Autumn, in a school election, she ran a campaign under the heading ‘More joy, More cuddles, More chocolate for everyone.’ At one point, she wandered over to the lady who was doing most of the talking. She was delivering news that we felt was hard to take and, yet, Lucy put her arms around her neck and gave her a hug.

I wanted to argue, to point out how wrong and unjust the policies and the system were, but Lucy, somehow, saw it differently. I heard the woman say “Thank you for being my friend. I might not be your Daddy’s friend right now, but thank you for being my friend.” More joy, more cuddles, more chocolate for everyone!! It wasn’t right to shoot the messenger, and as I thought about my adversarial approach and how I raged internally against the system, the health professionals and the lack of understanding about our situation, there was another side to the situation I hadn’t thought about. The health professionals had families and struggles, too, and it wasn’t all about us.

As I reflect on my competitiveness, my preparedness to fight and contest against what I see as an unjust system, maybe my children have more than a few things to teach me.

“May the mind of Christ my Saviour

Live in me from day to day,

By His love and power controlling.

All I do and say.”

Could I ask you to hold in your prayers the family and friends of Dinah Hay, whose funeral will take place next Wednesday at 12 noon in church.

Much love to everyone,

Jono.

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