Gratitude and Cornerstones

Growing up in my tiny little Christian school, there was one family in particular that stood out: The Beumers.

The Grandmother of the family, Mrs. Krauss, was a stout woman of determination. She laughed loud, hugged hard, and saw enough in me to pass me out of her Kindergarten class.

The mother of the family, Mrs. Beumer, taught me to love books, love writing, and appreciate English.

The daughter of the family, Miss Beumer, tutored me through algebra, provided a sympathetic ear to my teenage angst, and taught me to appreciate the God of science.

The Son-in-Law of the family, Mr. Honeycutt, challenged my faith, and educated me in how to respectfully defend it to others.

I can honestly say that this family had the greatest impact of any person, or group of persons, in my life. Even though it’s been years since I’ve seen most of them, I feel like they’re a cornerstone of my heart.  I still hear about them, vicariously, and maybe someday I can tell them what they’ve meant to me …but really, what do you say? What would I say to them, if given the opportunity?

“Uh…thanks!”

And then I’d go run and hide, and ultimately feel like an idiot.

I couldn’t verbalize the gratitude I have…

”Hey, thanks for giving me advice that shapes my marriage to this day…”

“Hey, thanks for putting up with my drama, and for seeing through it enough to know when I was truly troubled.”

“Hey, thanks for teaching me that God shows His love for me through nature. I’m teaching my son about that right now.”

“Hey, thanks for introducing me to music, and books, and history…thanks for showing me the world inside my imagination, and that there’s an escape route when reality is too heavy.”

“Hey, thanks for encouraging my writing. Thanks for teaching me to ‘never fall in love with my first draft,’ and that just because a book is a “classic,” doesn’t mean it’s safe for all ages.

“Thanks for caring more about my heart than my education, and for doing all you could to protect one, while teaching the other.”

“Thank you for showing me there’s more to Christianity than empty words…for showing me that speaking the Word of God in love, rather than shouting it from the rooftops, is far more effective in the long run.”

“Hey, thanks for your long hours; for the car rides down the street; for teaching choir and for colored-pencil diagrams of the human body. Thanks for the handwritten notes on projector screens that lovingly depicted the intricacies of God’s Creation.”

“Hey, thanks for your patience when I wanted to throw my algebra book across the room, along with any chance for the scholarships I would eventually obtain."

I know that’s a lot, but when I look back over my life thus far, this family really, REALLY sticks out…like, their influence is inescapable.

I look back over my life quite a bit; I’m scavenging for tips, for information on how to raise our Tiny Human in the Very Best Way. I don’t know how to raise him; David doesn’t know how to raise him. We’re simply two people who love our baby more than words…two people who come from broken homes and parents who love us, who did the best they could…just like we’re trying to do.  We have hopes and dreams, and no idea how to make them come to pass…Like everyone else, we’re hanging on for dear life, and covering it all in prayer to make up for our mistakes.

The Beumers all come to mind not only for what they did in my school; they also come to mind because of their general family life.  I’m not stupid—perhaps it was all a rouse, and at home, they were just as messed up as the rest of us? I highly doubt it. I don’t think anyone can fake it that well; since they’re still involved in the school I graduated from 19 years ago, I’d say it has to be genuine.

They were the first family I’d ever met that DIDN’T HAVE A TELEVISION.

CRAZY, I know.

I never understood it…and then, magically, just a few weeks ago (during my beloved Olympics), it registered.

I GET IT.

We don’t have “regular” TV or cable; we have Netflix. I hate watching anything on a computer, so it’s not like I check in to watch much online. I check the news headlines, but that’s about it. I’d rather read on the computer/tablet. I’ll watch TV at my parents’ house, when I’m out there, but that’s it.  The only time I really feel it is during things like the Olympics or the Oscars—events that I miss watching as they happen. I’ll read the re-cap the next day, but I love to watch that kind of stuff live.  Otherwise, I’m not missing a TV…and I’m definitely not missing a cable bill.

You know what else I’m not missing?

Commercials.

I blogged a few weeks ago about the rampant materialism that has me wondering if I’m an adequate parent. I can’t afford the fancy tablets or toys that a lot of parents are getting their kids. I have a Nook tablet; I’m not giving that to my 13-month old to play with, regardless of the case that’s on it. I’m not giving him an iPhone to play with. These commercials fill kids with straight-up lust for things they can’t have, shouldn’t have, and in my house, won’t have. Does that make me a bad parent? Or does it make the person who DOES give their 2-year old an iPad to play with, a “bad” parent? Does it mean that one of our children will not have the advantages of the other, in the classroom?

Am I setting my son up for failure in life, because I won’t buy him an expensive educational toy that I saw during “Wheel of Fortune?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

This is the panic that sets in when I watch regular TV.

The Beumers lived what appeared to be a pretty simple life. Teaching at our school, it had to be a simple life; our school was small and broke as a joke. We fundraised the living daylights out of our communities, just to keep the tuition affordable. Very few families were affluent (if any), and there’s no way any of our teachers were making much. Teaching was more of a ministry than a job. I think not having a TV must have made that just a tiny bit easier.

Of course, there’s the usual garbage that comes with any kind of TV (Netflix or otherwise): What are you exposing your family to? How much time is it taking? Is it becoming your babysitter, or is it simply an educational tool? Everyone with a TV deals with these questions. To keep that out of the house, you’d have to get rid of The Box altogether…which may not be a terrible idea.

Not having commercials, to me, is worth the inconvenience of missing the Olympics. Not facing what I can’t provide for my child; not seeing what I can’t buy for myself; and not inflicting a massive case of the “I Wants” on myself at every turn of the channel, is well worth the feeling of being “out-of-the-loop” from missing the Oscars.  I’ll take the trade, for the peace of mind.

Looking back over my life and gleaning tips and tricks for raising a family from those I love, and from those who have shown me love, is a pretty educational experience. I’d like to live in such a way that years down the road, a dramatic, scraggly daydreamer can say she was influenced and encouraged by what I poured into her life.

I’d like to live in such a way that my son, though me may dislike me temporarily for not buying him an iPad or whatever, grows up and thanks me for teaching him simplicity…for teaching him to love the outdoors…for teaching him to pick up an actual pencil and write…for teaching him to open his mind, and make word pictures…for teaching him the importance of “showing your work,” as opposed to pressing a button for a quick answer…I’d like for my son to thank me for spending time with him, instead of entrusting his fragile soul to an electronic device…

Someday, I’ll tell my son about this amazing family, and how they influenced my life…and maybe someday, he will be able to tell them all of the things I could never (awkwardly) say:  “Thank you for loving my mom…for teaching her about Jesus. Because she’s taught me, and now I know Him.”

I really don’t think there’s any greater compliment or reward…in spite of what they tell me on the television.