How old were you when you have your first memories? I have memories from the time I was 7 years old. Big events like moving from AZ to CA, a trip to the Grand Canyon. Some faint memories from when I was 4, playing with my brothers, losing my baby doll in a ditch.
Some thoughts I had today as we gathered around the table at lunch time and I listened to my girls talking about how you know what ruined everything. My children are young, perceptive, impressionable. I’ve sheltered them from it as much as possible and they still know it, just like the rest of us.
My children were newborn, 2, 5, and 7, and 11 during 2020 and I often find myself wondering if they’ll remember a time before this. If they’ll remember a time before fear took over. This is their CHILDHOOD. They’re only little like this one time and it absolutely breaks my heart to think that they may not remember a time before the world changed.
My friend Ashley said some things in her stories awhile back that were spot on. She asked the question, are you willing to be uncomfortable for your children?
Of course we love them, we would die for them! But are we willing to live in discomfort for them? To make ourselves uncomfortable in the fighting for their rights and their freedom because it isn’t easy and it’s definitely uncomfortable. How far are you willing to go? Writing emails, calling school districts, homeschooling, saying “no”, leaving?
I think it’s important to know what it is we as individuals stand for and make sure our children know it, too. Let them see us doing the hard thing. Let them see us living uncomfortably for their sake. They might not understand it now, but someday they will. Will your children thank you for fighting for them and their freedom one day?
I hope mine will. I always want to be able to say, I tried. I didn’t agree with what I saw so I tried to make change. As best I could, I tried. I advocated, I showed up, I used my voice, I didn’t comply. I fought for our freedom.