By Betty Slade
PREVIEW Columnist
Our son, the captain of the ship, has taken over the helm. I have now become the navigator in dangerous waters for family issues. Funny how family members change roles as they transition into life as it happens.
All of our children have reached their full-blown personalities. No longer do I tell them what to do. They have their own opinions and do what they want and tell me what to do.
Our son and I butt heads. He’s about business. I’m about ministry. He’s a no-nonsense, bottom-line guy, cares deeply and runs a tight ship. I also care deeply, but I’m about love and a let’s-pray-and-get-along kind of gal. I choose my battles, take a quiet stance and try to keep peace. As long as the holes in the bottom of the boat are patched and we can float, I’m happy to be on the love boat. He wants the bottom line. I want the story.
Our son is from the next generation, the corporate world, the business world, where everything is well documented in case of lawsuits. He understands his world and the battles today. They can be vicious, not friendly, and very costly. It’s about business.
I want to live in yesterday’s world. I am from the old generation where your word is your bond. Trust people and give them a margin for error. I have my own battle wounds — hurt feelings, disappointments, trust until you can’t trust someone. Forgive and go on. It’s about ministry.
So, when a family situation came up, we butted heads once again. My grandson came by the house. We talked. It came up that our log house needed painting. He said, “Grandma, I want to help you. I can paint your house.”
I said, “If you do, I want to pay you.”
“I’ll get some color ideas for oil or stain.”
I ran it by the captain of the ship. He said, “Mother, you always do this. You agree to something and you haven’t thought it out.”
“We are family. If he can help me and I can help him, then it’s OK.”
“Is he bonded?”
“No.”
“Does he have ladders, scaffolding and painting supplies?”
“No.”
“How long will it take?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t discuss it.”
I saw it as a family situation. Our son saw it as business. I started praying. This could turn into an explosive moment that could divide our family. Everyone’s heart was right, but we were all coming from a different place.
Our grandson sent an email, decided to decline his offer, but found a painting contractor who would do the job who was bonded and would stay in our budget. I didn’t have to fight the situation. I turned it over to our son and stepped down.
I am reminded of another situation when leadership changes hands. For 21 years I held retreats for Christian artists, writers, poets, songwriters and crafters. The retreats grew bigger and bigger and we reserved rooms at the Snow Wolf Lodge. I paid a caterer, and took care of expenses for guest speakers. I always found myself in the hole, picking up the slack to cover the expenses.
I ran those retreats as a ministry. If someone couldn’t pay, I’d say, “Come anyway.” My Sweet Al warned me, “Betty, you can’t buy shoestrings for a nickel and sell them for a nickel.” I’d say, “OK,” and kept doing what I always did. I lost money every year on every meeting, but love covered a multitude of sins. It was always about God’s business and He took care of it and took care of us.
The retreat weekends became a big family reunion. It reminded me of those in the family who everyone dreads, but they show up anyway for the holidays. Like Uncle Earl, hitting the bottle, who added grief to the others, or like Aunt Daisy, who smoked like a fiend and told dirty jokes.
Two brothers attended the retreat one year with big ideas and lots of gusto. They felt they had been called to this ministry. Al and I were burned out. We had kept it afloat by adding more patches to the bottom of the boat.
I was thrilled they would do the heavy lifting. I thought I would still be involved in decision making. After all, it was my baby, birthed in 1986, now 21 years old. We cared for this little one and saw it grow up. It yielded so many blessings for family and friends, money wasn’t important.
These two young men launched the ship as a business. I learned when you turn a job over to a leader, he will lead. The brothers didn’t feel it necessary to include me in their plans or preparations. I stepped out of leadership, became an attendee. They had it under control and ran it like a tight ship. Everyone paid; no one slipped by.
Final brushstroke: For this family, it continues. We have turned over the helm to the next generation, let them steer the ship, turn the rudder and control the ship’s direction. My Sweet Al and I are vacationing on the love boat.
Views expressed do not necessarily represent those of The SUN.
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