I can be an inconsistent hunkerer. I'd rather think of myself as steadfast and immovable, and I often am, just not always in the best ways, but in contemplating my resolution to "yield" this year and the self evaluation that goes along with wanting to change, I am having to take responsibilities for some of my inconsistencies. I have discovered one of these to be my attempts at spiritual protection,especially with media--as one example--movies. Ratings used to be a HUGE deal to me--some still are--but they have become less valuable to me over the years as more reliable tools, such as reviews, have become available and almost all ratings have become personally untrustworthy. A prophet of God gave counsel in my youth not to see R-rated movies, so to me, that is the end of any personal discussion--an easy choice. I like those! Of course that was when ratings were a little more reliable and significantly defined and before the inception of the PG-13 rating, which has always felt like a personal no man's land--a danger zone of uncertainty and fear of the enemy trenches on the other side. I have ventured out of my own, hand dug trench occasionally. Growing up, we watched a few of these movies in our home. In college, they played the edited airline version of some of these at the on-campus cinema and I watched many of them. As young parents Fred and I subscribed to a membership at a Clean Flicks video store and saw a few more. Through all of those experiences I have learned that "editing" can't catch all darkness. There are a few times where these ventured experiences have been more positively profound than painful, but, for me they have been scarce and more often there are scars because my mental pain threshold is low. Not everyone feels things or sees them the same way and I am learning that there is more than one way to be "good"--always my "blue" personality is rearing its head. I have sat in groups of righteous women who talked about movies that they wouldn't let into their homes, which I watch, and movies that they watch, which I wouldn't let into my home. A conundrum! It lends depth to Mikayla's question to me a few years ago, "Can some things be wrong for one person and right for another?" The answer...I honestly don't know. I used to just teach my children that we didn't need to be concerned about everyone else--we just needed to do what we felt was right for our family. but what about when we all "grow up" and have individual feelings?
Case in point: After our family's unfortunate experience with the last traveling Broadway performance of Les Miserables, I was highly skeptical and wary that the movie, then in the making, wouldn't be worse. Knowing the potential of the story, my older children were hopeful and enamored by the possibility for light. They followed the endless teaser trailers that were frequently released with excitement. I watched them with suspicion. Month's before it's release, the rating came out, but with no reviews. As I am prone to pessimism, I washed my hands of it--my older children, more prone to optimism, held out for Plugged-In's review, which has become my invaluable trusted "spy" into this section of enemy territory. ("Spies" are an entirely other moral dilemma, but that's another discussion.) The day the detailed review was posted I was in town and Mikayla called, utterly dejected. The review warned of all of the play's inappropriateness and more. I was not surprised and so not too disappointed. It's just a movie, after all--entertainment. But Mikayla was genuinely frustrated and torn. She has grown up with the edited soundtrack and concert video as entertainment that we have believed to be inspiring staples in our home and had just read the unabridged, 1500 page novel--full of life lessons and light.
A few years back I could and did forbid quite a few choices, deeming it my protective mother duty. Partly, because my older childrens ages have demanded it, partly because I am, very slowly, learning that sometimes forbidding falls into the "other plan", and partly, because I am realizing that I do not have control, I have begrudgingly slackened the reigns a bit (physically, but still not mentally). So, I gave Mikayla my best council, encouraged her not to move forward until she had an answer with which she felt peace...and waited. It may seem like a lot of fuss over 3 hours of entertainment, but she prayed and pondered and found the movie script online, enough to feel that the smut was housed, where it's always been housed, almost entirely in the two songs that we have edited in our home for years. She finally made a decision to go to the movie and walk out during the two offensive songs--she felt it would be the same as what we had always done with the concert in our home. I'll admit it wasn't the choice I wanted her to make, because it wasn't the choice that I had made, but she has proven to have deep, spiritual wells, righteous desires, and the capacity to receive personal revelation, so I had to get out of the way and let her make her own choices. I don't know the extent to which Jordan and Eden went to the same lengths to get personal answers, but the day after Christmas, Mikayla, Jordan, Eden and a group of friends went to the movie--all with the same commitment The entire group walked out twice and waited in the hall. Mikayla said it was awkward, but she left the movie feeling inspired and at peace with her choice. Jordan and Eden also felt uplifted. Before the event, Mikayla mentioned to another friend, who was going to a different showing, that there was "some sketchy stuff" during which she was going to walk out--the friend said she'd keep that in mind, but chose not to walk out and later told her that the movie left her with a bitter taste in her mouth that she couldn't get rid of. Mikayla has encouraged me to go see the movie and walk out--she wants to share something good, but though I am painfully learning to "grant and allow" others to be different, to feel differently I still feel fear of stepping into uncomfortable territory, without knowing exactly where the land mines are and with the promise that I won't be injured.
I love and admire my children, I laud their efforts for standing up, and standing out. I am so pleased that Mikayla would make a night of entertainment a matter of prayer--I don't think I've ever done that. Those are parental perks, when "a child leads[s] you by the hand", but I'm still not sure of my maternal or matriarchal place in the big--or even little--scheme of things. I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago about an adult wayward child of hers. She told me the scizm between agreeable choices had started young in their teens. All along, extended family had told her she should be more strict as a mother and not allow certain kinds of dress or behaviors in her home or at family gatherings, but my friend felt like she could encourage and teach and suggest, but she couldn't forbid or she would drive a wedge between the child and home and family. The outcome has been heartbreaking, but who's to say what part of that can be attributed to neglectful parenting and what part is just agency. I wonder where the parental line is in the sand. Can we forbid within the walls of our own home? Where do we cross over the lines of agency and freedom. Elder Oaks has said that agency is inherent t--we can't take it away even if we want to for we don't have that power. If that's true, we will never usurp a child's agency, only their freedom. So, what are the prices for freedom and how much do we allow? I've had this discussion with my husband and my older children, but we are all individuals and our views are not always completely compatible. I would love to know if anyone has personal insight into this as it seems to be at the very core of learning to yield or not to yield. Let the discussion begin!
Case in point: After our family's unfortunate experience with the last traveling Broadway performance of Les Miserables, I was highly skeptical and wary that the movie, then in the making, wouldn't be worse. Knowing the potential of the story, my older children were hopeful and enamored by the possibility for light. They followed the endless teaser trailers that were frequently released with excitement. I watched them with suspicion. Month's before it's release, the rating came out, but with no reviews. As I am prone to pessimism, I washed my hands of it--my older children, more prone to optimism, held out for Plugged-In's review, which has become my invaluable trusted "spy" into this section of enemy territory. ("Spies" are an entirely other moral dilemma, but that's another discussion.) The day the detailed review was posted I was in town and Mikayla called, utterly dejected. The review warned of all of the play's inappropriateness and more. I was not surprised and so not too disappointed. It's just a movie, after all--entertainment. But Mikayla was genuinely frustrated and torn. She has grown up with the edited soundtrack and concert video as entertainment that we have believed to be inspiring staples in our home and had just read the unabridged, 1500 page novel--full of life lessons and light.
A few years back I could and did forbid quite a few choices, deeming it my protective mother duty. Partly, because my older childrens ages have demanded it, partly because I am, very slowly, learning that sometimes forbidding falls into the "other plan", and partly, because I am realizing that I do not have control, I have begrudgingly slackened the reigns a bit (physically, but still not mentally). So, I gave Mikayla my best council, encouraged her not to move forward until she had an answer with which she felt peace...and waited. It may seem like a lot of fuss over 3 hours of entertainment, but she prayed and pondered and found the movie script online, enough to feel that the smut was housed, where it's always been housed, almost entirely in the two songs that we have edited in our home for years. She finally made a decision to go to the movie and walk out during the two offensive songs--she felt it would be the same as what we had always done with the concert in our home. I'll admit it wasn't the choice I wanted her to make, because it wasn't the choice that I had made, but she has proven to have deep, spiritual wells, righteous desires, and the capacity to receive personal revelation, so I had to get out of the way and let her make her own choices. I don't know the extent to which Jordan and Eden went to the same lengths to get personal answers, but the day after Christmas, Mikayla, Jordan, Eden and a group of friends went to the movie--all with the same commitment The entire group walked out twice and waited in the hall. Mikayla said it was awkward, but she left the movie feeling inspired and at peace with her choice. Jordan and Eden also felt uplifted. Before the event, Mikayla mentioned to another friend, who was going to a different showing, that there was "some sketchy stuff" during which she was going to walk out--the friend said she'd keep that in mind, but chose not to walk out and later told her that the movie left her with a bitter taste in her mouth that she couldn't get rid of. Mikayla has encouraged me to go see the movie and walk out--she wants to share something good, but though I am painfully learning to "grant and allow" others to be different, to feel differently I still feel fear of stepping into uncomfortable territory, without knowing exactly where the land mines are and with the promise that I won't be injured.
I love and admire my children, I laud their efforts for standing up, and standing out. I am so pleased that Mikayla would make a night of entertainment a matter of prayer--I don't think I've ever done that. Those are parental perks, when "a child leads[s] you by the hand", but I'm still not sure of my maternal or matriarchal place in the big--or even little--scheme of things. I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago about an adult wayward child of hers. She told me the scizm between agreeable choices had started young in their teens. All along, extended family had told her she should be more strict as a mother and not allow certain kinds of dress or behaviors in her home or at family gatherings, but my friend felt like she could encourage and teach and suggest, but she couldn't forbid or she would drive a wedge between the child and home and family. The outcome has been heartbreaking, but who's to say what part of that can be attributed to neglectful parenting and what part is just agency. I wonder where the parental line is in the sand. Can we forbid within the walls of our own home? Where do we cross over the lines of agency and freedom. Elder Oaks has said that agency is inherent t--we can't take it away even if we want to for we don't have that power. If that's true, we will never usurp a child's agency, only their freedom. So, what are the prices for freedom and how much do we allow? I've had this discussion with my husband and my older children, but we are all individuals and our views are not always completely compatible. I would love to know if anyone has personal insight into this as it seems to be at the very core of learning to yield or not to yield. Let the discussion begin!
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