A plea for connection in the check-out line
Dear women over 50,
I realize that most of you aren’t reading this post. Many of you aren’t engaged with any blog at all, much less mine. You certainly weren’t reading (or writing) blogs when you were elbow deep in diapers and science projects. But I’m writing this to you anyways. And I’m hoping that my readers, who are mostly between 25-40, and ARE reading this while elbow deep in either diapers or science projects or both, will read these words and it will penetrate into their souls so that they will go out and find you.
So women over 50...tell me I’ll miss this someday. Don’t be afraid to engage me in the checkout line. Or the church lobby. Or at the neighborhood park. Even when...no especially when my child is out of control, or my keys got locked in the car, or any other unfortunate circumstance takes place that seems inevitable for those of us with young children. Don’t believe any kind of lie that whispers to you that you have nothing valuable to offer.
We, the generation below you, we need you. We need to hear your wisdom. We need to know that we’re going to make it out on the other side of this whole parenting and marriage thing.
Tell us the things you miss. All the things...the good, the bad and the really bad.
Tell us how you struggled. Tell us stories of how you messed up AND how you triumphed in your motherhood. Your willingness to be vulnerable will mostly be met by our generation with appreciation, not judgement or stares like you may have experienced 25 years ago. Many of us have tasted early in life the beauty and freedom in authenticity. And how when it is modeled first it is almost always reciprocated and results in deeper connection.
Tell us how you raised children without technology and what that was like. We were there, but we weren’t on the parenting side of it yet. Tell us how you’re impressed with how we’re handling the way the world is today. Some of our struggles are different, but some of them are exactly the same. Tell us that you’re in our corner and that you’re rooting for us as we navigate the current climate and the time in history that we’re raising our babies today.
Tell us all the ways that you sacrificed and how it created a strength in you that cannot be compared. We need to know we’re not alone in our own sacrifice and struggle, and that there is a purpose to it. We need to see the product of the refining to give us strength while we’re still in the fire. The mountain you’ve already climbed is the one we’re leaning into as we brace against the cold north winds blowing in our faces. We’re following the tracks you made, but the terrain has changed slightly and we need some signposts.
Tell us that we are being fed lies from all around us and help us identify them. You were fed lies too, but we hear lies everywhere and are accessible 24/7. We need reminders of what is true. We are connected all the time to the outside world in a way that you weren’t. And maybe that felt lonely for you, but it was also a respite that we no longer possess. Our loneliness stems from non-stop comparison, feelings of inadequacy and lack of real, interpersonal, face-to-face connections. We hear all the ways that other people are impacting our world for good, except nobody is writing about us, raising babies quietly. Remind us of our value, point us to our identity in Christ and help us to identify lies from truth. You are immeasurably equipped to do this impossible ask.
Be our champions. Tell us that motherhood is the most unbelievable job on the planet. Tell us that what we are doing really matters. That there’s nothing out there that can compare and how when we feel discontentment in our place in this world that we actually have one of the greatest callings. Remind us of the important role we play in our husbands’ lives and how it is our responsibility to encourage them, love them, and be their safe place. Our generation is failing at marriage. The enemy is attacking marriage in full force. As a generation, we are floundering and forgetting the covenants we made.
Don’t be afraid of us Women over 50...we know so little compared to you. The pride and arrogance of a statement in contrast to that truth is a pathway to isolation and an eventual downfall. We can’t spend our time reinventing wheels. We need your guidance. We need your mentorship. Don’t be afraid of us.
Your impact on the next generation is not over. It didn’t end when your last child left for college. It ripples out from the ones who share your flesh and blood to those of us that you see on a weekly basis or even the ones of us you see only once on this earth.
Don’t be afraid of the sentiment that somehow made its way around the internet a few years ago that we don’t want your comments. Sure....some of you can be a little rough in your delivery sometimes. But we are rough too, so who are we to talk. I'm pleading with you to be brave with us. A wise heart will learn to listen, respect and appreciate the voice that has gone before. We need your advice, but even more so, we need to be connected to you. And remember, you possess a strength that we don’t.
I realize that this all seems scary. It’s scary for us too. It requires humility in all the uncomfortable ways from all of us. And I bet we’ll all get it wrong a few times before we start getting it right. There’s a large portion of our generation that believes they have it all figured out. They don’t.
The frazzled mom in the grocery line may not receive you. But the hope is that she will think on it later and realize the grace you were showing. In gratitude, she’ll see the pursuit of connection that was your original intent. And maybe she’ll soften. And maybe she’ll become more open for connection in the next encounter that she has. And the generational divide will crumble.
I’ve tasted and seen the beauty of these types of relationships and I just felt words spilling out of me after a morning session with some women who didn’t even realize the cup-filling they were doing until after it had happened. Their words of encouragement, love, support and truthfulness were a balm to so many tender, young-mama hearts in the room. We all left wanting to grow up and be like them one day.
May we approach one another in humility and re-establish a generational connection like never before. So yes...please...I beg you...tell me I'll miss this someday. Remind me to stop in the middle of the mess to remember exactly what it is that I GET to do every single day during these few short years.