I was listening to The Happy Hour With Jamie Ivey episode #13 last week while I did the dinner dishes. Jamie and her guest, Annie Downs, author of the book Let’s All Be Brave, were talking about bravery in relationships. They spent a chunk of the podcast talking about this phrase and its meaning:
“Their Invitation is Your Permission.” When I heard their conversation, I realized how much I needed to hear their words. The “invitation” doesn’t need to be a literal invitation for me to do something; it can be a compliment, a question of how I’m feeling, an opportunity to vent, a need for hard love truth-telling, a chance to take a break. Sometimes, it’s an actual invitation to get together or share a talent. Since listening to their podcast, I’ve been carrying the phrase “Their Invitation is Your Permission” along with me in all of my relationships.
In the podcast, Annie shared a story about a friend who speaks at conferences. The friend was struggling because every time a conference director called to invite her to speak, she ended up telling them why they shouldn’t hire her. Jamie said she does the same thing when someone invites her to write something.
“Do you really want me to write this?” she’d ask.
Jamie and Annie agreed that they do this in their relationships. The person gives them an invitation, and they refuse to take their permission to accept it. Annie said she even did it when it came to scheduling the recording of the podcast. She said to Jamie, “I had the wrong time and you said, ‘How about now?’ and I said, ‘Are you sure?’ And I’m like, ‘Well, you offered now. I should just listen.’
Yes, yes, yes! I do this all the time in my own life! Someone will offer to do me a favor, or maybe they’ll suggest meeting at a time that seems inconvenient for them, so I do the, “Are you sure?” thing. So. Silly. They just said they could do x, so why am I asking, “Are you sure?” Moving forward, I need to hear the words they’re saying, trust that they mean them, accept them, and move forward. Is it my own insecurity, my feelings that I’m not worth the trouble? Is it an attempt to stop someone from doing an act of love for me? Doing all of that only invites doubt into the relationship. Also, it robs their words of their meaning. I need to start allowing their words to be enough for me and give them their meaning back.
Allowing my loved ones’ words to have meaning helps me to practice giving my own words meaning. As part of His sermon on the mount, Jesus focused on swearing oaths. He told His disciples not to swear or make oaths. “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from the Evil One” (Matthew 5:37). I’m not making oaths in my everyday conversations with friends and family, but there’s an important lesson here. My loved ones will start to believe that my words are worthless if I keep muddying the waters with qualifications, excuses, or hedging around what I really want to say.
In order to make my “Yes” or “No” mean something, I need to change 2 things: First, I need to stop qualifying every “No” with an detailed explanation. Do you do this? Why do I start on a little soliloquy every time I decline an invitation? “No, I can’t come to dinner on Friday because…” Why do I feel the need to qualify every sentence or explain my every move? Do we somehow think it’s more of a social nicety to give a paragraph when a simple “no” will do? Stop. “No” is enough.
Second, when someone invites me to do something that seems inconvenient for them, I tend to accept the invitation before immediately suggesting several alternatives. Perhaps they’ll suggest to meet early on a Saturday morning for coffee. I’ll respond with something like, “Sure! Or, what about these other 3 options that seem better?” Lunacy.
When I do all of this over and over again (qualifying my “no” or accepting an invitation before immediately creating new ones), I tell the person I’m speaking to that our words aren’t enough. This trains both of us to start searching every word for a hidden message. On the receiving end, we stop believing every “yes” or “no” we hear, and we search for an underlying message of hurt, betrayal, annoyance, frustration, anger. After hearing Jamie and Annie talk about “Their Invitation is Your Permission,” I’m working on how I give and accept invitations. So, Friend, when you tell me that it works for you to get coffee early on a Saturday morning, I’m no longer going to ask, “Are you suuuuuuuuuuure?” I’m going to trust that your word is your sincere invitation to allow me to say, “Great! Looking forward to it!” And isn’t it so wonderful when a friend eagerly accepts your sincere invitation?
When I look at all of my relationships, the ones with strong communication are full of honesty and simplicity. “Their invitation is your permission” pervades every conversation. It’s really just about giving and accepting truth. When I’m on the receiving end of an invitation, how I accept it says a lot about me. If someone gives me a compliment and I choose to accept it sincerely instead of the silly false modesty thing, that can be a gift. If feels good when someone accepts a sincere compliment.
Making my own language simple will free all of us from the burden of the blabber. It brings meaning back to my words. In turn, it shows my loved ones that I’m going to believe their simple “yes” or “no.” Inviting them to believe me and showing them that I’m going to believe them removes the doubt and need for guesswork. This, my friends, is vital for any relationship.
It’s especially vital in marriage, and next time I’ll share what “Their Invitation is Your Permission” looks like in our marriage.
Questions for you:
Do you struggle with accepting others’ invitations? Again, remember that an invitation isn’t limited to a literal invitation. Do you qualify your “no”? Do you accept invitations and then immediately come up with alternatives? Or, perhaps you’ve recognized these patterns in conversation and have tried to put a stop to these bad habits. How has “Their Invitation is Your Permission” changed how you talk with your loved ones?
When Pope Francis declared this the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy, I wondered what it would look like at St. Joseph’s. Of all of the changes I have seen, I am most inspired and thankful for your leadership toward the goal of including special needs children in the parish school.
You shared with us in the parish bulletin how your own family was blessed by your older brother, Harry, who was born with spina bifida and died as a little boy. No wonder the special needs children hold such a special place in your heart! Undoubtedly, Harry is looking down on your efforts from heaven with a lot of admiration for his little brother.
As a former high school Spanish teacher, a handful of my courses in teachers college focused on special education. Knowing that I hoped to teach in a Catholic school, I was sad that aside from mild learning disabilities, special needs students would likely never enter my classroom. When you shared your plan to bring in more staff and resources to accommodate the special needs students in our parish family, I will be the first to admit that I was wary. My first reaction was fear. Because of my background in education, I knew it would be an uphill battle. I started asking all of the questions that come from fear. Would we have the right staff? Would the special needs student get the support they needed? Would our teachers be adequately trained?
Thank goodness I’m not the one in charge! No good decision is made out of fear. Thank you for being a brave pastor when I would have been fearful–of failure, of criticism, of backlash, of who knows what! It is obvious that you have felt this call from God and are doing this out of obedience.Have you ever heard the expression, “Delayed obedience is disobedience”? While the world and all of us so-called “experts” in the education field might say that starting the inclusion of the special needs students this year was too quick, you probably saw it as delayed obedience. Concerns might include the need for more time, more training, more tools. Undoubtedly, we will experience hiccups as we begin to learn how to be a school that welcomes special needs children. What endeavor with humans at the helm doesn’t have its problems? Yet, what are we afraid of? I applaud you for hearing the call and for moving forward while most of us so-called “experts” would have said to wait.
Thank you for this unprecedented opportunity for families that send their children to Catholic school. While I’m sure it is a blessing for the families of the special needs children to get to send their children to St. Joseph’s, I want you to know what a blessing it is for the whole community to get to welcome the special needs children into our classrooms. The children at St. Joseph’s are leading the way on how to welcome our parish special needs students. We would do well to learn from these little ones who are showing us what the Year of Mercy is all about. The children see the differences, they ask questions, they find out how they can help, they welcome their new classmates with open arms. What a gift that our kids will never know a classroom without special needs children! They intuitively know at a young age that we all have something about us that forces us to lean on others.
In the days and weeks to come, please lean on us. Let us know how we can help. What can we do to help with this transition? What intentions should we be keeping in prayer? What resources do we still need?
My prayers are with you and our school. I pray for a softening of heart for those who may still fearful of this change. Thank you for your vocation, for your daily “yes” to God, and for all of the sacrifices that you make on behalf of our parish family.
Yesterday was a big day. I wouldn’t admit it to myself, but I was a wee bit anxious about how it would go. Instead of admitting it or giving in to the tears, I lost myself in a flurry of activity to get everyone out the door.
Yesterday was Harry’s first day of preschool.
No filter. Just a Nebraska sunrise I captured yesterday in my jammies from the driveway. God knew I needed a little something that would tell me, “Stop worrying, honey. I’ve got this.”
The first day of preschool is a big milestone for any child, but the fact that it was Harry’s first day of preschool made it even more monumental.
In order to understand why yesterday was so big, you need to know Harry’s back story.
Almost four years ago on All Souls Day, we found out that I was miscarrying our 3rd baby. We named her Thérèse. A few weeks later, God entrusted us with another precious baby. I had a healthy pregnancy and delivered a baby boy nine months later.
Harold Fulton Boucher
Sweet little Harry helped to heal our family after losing Thérèse, but he will never replace her. I mean that in the best possible way. We love Thérèse, and I pray for her intercession often, but I don’t think of Harry as her replacement. Thérèse is our precious saint in heaven, and she’s all the motivation we need to get the rest of our family there someday. In just 3 years, Harry has shown me over and over again that he is exactly the soul God intended for our family.
Harry has always done things in his own way on his unique time table. For example, instead of crawling, he did the worm.
Harry is the child we never would have met if my pregnancy with Thérèse had gone according to our plans. All of our children’s milestones are special, but Harry’s milestones seem distinct. After all, Harry’s life itself was sheer gift.
Fast forward a couple of years.
Harry just turned three last week, and he has less than 15 words that he will say spontaneously without prompting. He has been receiving help with his speech delay through the Lincoln Public Schools special education program. A wonderful speech pathologist came out to our home twice a month this past year to work with us on Harry’s speech.
Last spring before Dorothy was born, I had visions of how our fall would be. It would be quieter with just Harry and our new baby at home while Jane and Walt were off at school. We’d have play dates, go to the gym, have fun outings, and Harry was enrolled at a nearby Christian preschool once a week.
As it turned out, that Christian preschool cut the program due to budget constraints. In fact, the preschool called us the day we came home with baby Dorothy from the hospital. After that phone call, we thought were out of options. All of the mother’s day out programs had waiting lists, and Harry wasn’t eligible for the parish or other preschool programs because of his August birthday.
So, it wasn’t part of my plan to send Harry off to preschool this year. That’s why his first day of preschool milestone was such a big deal. It was another one of those moments that never would have happened according to my master plan. You see, there’s this thing about Harry. I’m convinced God gave Harry to our family to teach me this lesson over and over again: our lives are not about our plans; our lives are about surrendering to God’s plan.
At our May meeting with the speech pathologist, we talked about our plans for the summer and fall. I mentioned that the preschool where Harry was enrolled had closed and that he would be staying at home with me. Then the speech pathologist and I had a little good news/bad news pow wow.
The bad news: Harry’s in-home services with Lincoln Public Schools would be ending in a few months when he turned three in August.
The good news: At the conclusion of his in-home services, he would become eligible for the Lincoln Public School preschool program as a special education student.
I was initially excited and asked her to describe the program, envisioning a few hours a week. When she described the program, and I think I had to pick my jaw up off of the floor.
5 days a week.
3 and a half hours.
Breakfast, snack, and lunch are served.
Children can be bussed to and from school.
Woah, woah, woah! Are you crazy, lady?! He will have just turned THREE!
It sounded like too much and too fast. I told her I’d think about it but had already ruled it out in my mind. After all, my plan had been to send him to 1-day preschool for a few hours. 5 days?! 2 meals?! A bus?! Before leaving, our speech pathologist gave me a gentle nudge to at least tour the preschool. I promised her I’d think about it.
I called Philip at work to check in. As a passing comment, I mentioned the preschool tour idea and described the program. When Philip agreed that it was too much, I thought that was the end of the discussion. For whatever reason, both of us kept revisiting the idea. By the next day, we had set up a tour.
On the tour, we met the classroom teacher, a para, and a speech pathologist who would be meeting with Harry. The classroom was amazing, and it immediately captivated Harry’s attention. The staff described regular meetings to continue to work on Harry’s IEP (his individualized education plan). I knew about all of this as a possibility as a former classroom teacher, but let me tell you, it’s a totally different ball game when you realize all of these services are available for YOUR child!
We ended up enrolling Harry for the fall. We agreed that Harry has always done things differently and that this might be exactly the boost that he needs to get him talking. After all, he’ll still get to be home with me in the afternoons and have plenty of bonding time with the rest of our family in the evenings. Going through my struggles with postpartum depression after Harry was born taught me an important lesson: there will be times with this parenting stuff that I need to reach out and ask for help in filling the gaps. 5-day preschool will be able to do exactly that for Harry, and I’m so excited for him!
Begrudgingly, I had to admit to God yet again that I was wrong. My plan was good, but it wasn’t the best. Have you ever seen this picture before?
I’m the little girl holding my plans in my hands while He has something bigger in mind.
That little girl holding the small teddy bear is me. I never want to give up my plan. I think I’ve got it all figured out and hold on to it white-knuckled until I resign myself to saying, “Okay, fine. Whatcha got behind Your back?”
His plan is always better than mine. Always.
Just look at that smile!
Harry’s life has been full of opportunities to practice letting go of my plans.
God allowed us to lose Thérèse. Losing Thérèse allowed us to gain Harry.
He allowed me to have postpartum depression. That postpartum depression taught me to lean more on others. It taught me what real friendship is all about. It strengthened our marriage. It opened my eyes to the fragility of life. It taught me that what’s working for other families might not be what’s best for us.
He allowed Harry to have a speech delay. That speech delay taught and continues to teach me all kinds of parenting skills I otherwise would never have been forced to cultivate.
That Harry. So many surprises in these 3 years. Who knows what else is in store for that boy! All I know is this:
I’m not in control.
My plans are (usually) good.
Buuuuuuuuuuut it’s always a better idea to ask God what His plans are
Philip and I learned the Creighton Model during our engagement and used the Creighton Model to help us achieve pregnancies, space pregnancies, and determine when I was having hormonal issues like low progesterone. After using the Creighton Model of NFP for 8 years, we decided to start researching other methods when I was pregnant with Dorothy. We absolutely LOVE Pope Paul VI Institute and learned a lot about our fertility through the Creighton Model. However, we decided it was time to explore other methods because we struggle with a mucus-only NFP method during the postpartum phase.
Like most women, I have a variable return of cervical mucus when breastfeeding. To further complicate matters, I have varied in the amount of time I’ve been able to breastfeed each baby, so even though this is our fourth baby (and fifth pregnancy), I still don’t have a gauge for when I should expect my period to return or what is/isn’t true peak mucus before my cycles return. In a gist, the Creighton Model works by having the woman observe her cervical mucus every time she uses the restroom. Based on her observations, she knows whether or not she is ovulating. The couple can use that information to determine whether they can engage in the marital act to achieve their goal of achieving or avoiding pregnancy.
The Creighton Model was fabulous for us when my cycles returned after previous pregnancies and things more or less returned like clockwork. However, those weeks or months postpartum before my cycles returned after each pregnancy involved a lot of uncertainty due to my variable return of mucus. Due to the uncertainty, that meant a lot of abstaining. A lot.
May I also remind you that I get super duper sick during pregnancy? I was on anti-nausea medicine with Dorothy until 34 weeks. Let me just put that information out there to let you deduce that pregnancy in this marriage also equates to a lot of abstaining. Then, there’s the minimum 6 week postpartum rule. After that, we knew we’d be entering into the “it’s anybody’s guess whether this is peak mucus or not” territory.
We wanted to learn a new method that would give us more certainty for the postpartum time. Ultimately, we decided on the Marquette Method of NFP. We wanted a method that would help us to achieve our goals of:
spacing our children
using the information we gained from the Creighton Model
being together as much as possible as husband and wife
I’m 4 months postpartum, I’m still nursing, and my cycle is nowhere in sight. Just like before, I’m experiencing that variable return of mucus. We are just getting started with Marquette, but I cannot even begin to tell you what a relief it has been!
Marquette can work a couple of different ways. Philip and I have decided to use the Marquette Model by charting both our mucus readings and the readings from our Clearblue Fertility Monitor.
With the Marquette Model, the mucus readings more or less build on the education we gained from the Creighton Model. The Marquette Model rules for mucus are much, much more simplified than Creighton. Your only options for charting mucus with Marquette are Low, High, or Peak. When it comes to this portion of charting, I am so very grateful for our background with Creighton. The training and charting with the Creighton Model involved a much, much more detailed description of what was going on with the mucus. With our background from Creighton, I’m confident going forward that we will be able to identify when something is wackadoodle and needing a physician’s help.
The Clearblue Fertility Monitor is why we switched to Marquette. We were looking for some objective information we could bring to the table when determining when I’m ovulating. With a mucus-only model like Creighton, we were dependent solely upon my mucus observations. With the monitor, we have additional information to rely on. The Clearblue Easy Fertility Monitor is very simple. Here’s the description of how the monitor works directly from the Clearblue Easy website:
Clearblue Ovulation Tests detect the Lutenizing Hormone (LH) surge which occurs approximately 24-36 hours prior to ovulation. This is how they help you pinpoint the 2 best days of your cycle to conceive a baby – the day before ovulation and the day of ovulation itself. So, if you have sex on these two days, you’ll be giving yourself the best chance of getting pregnant.
The Clearblue Fertility Monitor with Touch Screen tracks two hormones. It not only detects the LH surge and pinpoints your 2 Peak Fertility days, but also identifies typically up to 5 additional fertile days when you may conceive (High Fertility days) by detecting the rise in estrogen which occurs immediately before this LH surge. As your partner’s sperm can survive in your body for several days, having sex on those days can also result in pregnancy.
Isn’t that awesome?! This is ideal for us because we want to know BEFORE I am going to ovulate. That way, we can be more successful in our goal to space our children. Some other NFP methods have a woman take her basal body temperature (BBT) when she first wakes up. That’s your body’s temperature when at rest. The problem with this method for us is two-fold: I don’t wake up at the same time every day with these kiddos, and the temperature increase occurs after ovulation. This would make things riskier when trying to avoid a pregnancy as sperm can live for a few days during the woman’s peak fertility of her cycle.
Back to the Clearblue Fertility Monitor…The monitor gives 3 possible readings: Low, High, or Peak. Low means that there is a low likelihood of getting pregnant. High means that an increase in estrogen is detected and that it is highly possible to get pregnant that day. Peak means that the monitor is also detecting the LH surge. After the 2nd Peak day, the user will know that she is likely ovulating the next day. The monitor automatically gives a High reading after the second Peak day.
A disadvantage of the monitor is that it is *possible* for the monitor to miss the LH surge. Marquette claims that it misses it in about 1 out of every 10 cycles. For that reason, Philip and I are continuing to chart my mucus observations in conjunction with the monitor. When we have conflicting information from my mucus observations and the monitor, we have an additional tool at our disposal: Wondfo LH testing strips. These testing strips check my LH level as well. I haven’t had to yet, but I will use these testing strips when we get conflicting information. For example, if I have peak mucus but get a low reading on the monitor, this could either mean that the monitor missed my LH surge OR it could just be my variable return of mucus being wackadoodle. Our hope is that by continuing to chart my mucus AND monitor readings over the course of these next few months, we’ll get a better sense of what my non-peak mucus looks like during the postpartum time (the fake-out, “you’re not really ovulating” stuff) while still putting the information from the Creighton Model to good use.
Another disadvantage of the Marquette Model is the cost. The Clearblue Easy Monitor is pricey. It’s regularly $229. (Great news for you, though! For whatever reason, the Clearblue Fertility Monitor is on sale on Amazon right now. I have no idea how much longer this price will stay. Nevermind that I bought it at full price just a few weeks ago…) The testing sticks for the monitor are $30-35 for 30 testing sticks. Gulp. I know. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, all of that being said, Philip and I agree that the monitor and testing sticks are WELL worth the investment for us. Without the monitor, we would be abstaining ALL THE TIME during these crazy postpartum months. As Philip would say, “No bueno.” The best part of all is having some objective data to rely upon in addition to my mucus observations while breastfeeding. There are special instructions for using the monitor while breastfeeding before your cycles return. Basically, you’re creating artificial menstrual cycles with the monitor and testing over and over again until your period returns or you get a High or Peak reading. (The instructions are very thorough and leave little room for interpretation–a dream come true for a postpartum mama needing some objective help!)
So, there you have it. That’s my long way of explaining why we switched from Creighton to Marquette for these crazy postpartum months. We still love you, Creighton Model, and we’re grateful for Pope Paul VI Institute for the gift you’ve been in our marriage. We’re just baby Marquette users, so I’ll probably circle back to give an update all of this when my cycles return. For now, we are thrilled with our switch to Marquette.
I’m a flurry of movement, fumbling to get my things in and out of my locker so that I can pick the kids up from the nursery in time. These ladies are in no rush. They look each other in the eyes. They sit for a few minutes just to chat–swapping recipes, lamenting the loss of a(nother) friend, excitedly informing the group about a new housecleaning product, updating each other on what the kids, grandkids, and great grandkids are up to. When they don’t have something to tell, they’re comfortable in the silence.
The water aerobics ladies are usually gathering their things to head out for the day when I come back to the locker room to shower. The lockers are arranged in horseshoes with benches, and my locker happens to be in the same horseshoe as one particular circle of friends. Their average age is probably 80. Most wear orthopedic shoes with white ankle socks. Their floral button-ups and pastel capris are neatly pressed. They move slowly, deliberately, without any self-consciousness.
I’m struck by how they migrate from place to place. Some have walkers. One has a cane. Some limp. Another can barely lift her feet and has to shuffle. One has a back that sticks sideways nearly ninety degrees from her hip. She smiles the most.
When they collectively decide it’s time to go, everyone plays a part. The ladies take turns requesting and offering help. Lifting, zipping, holding, carrying, fetching. They ask for help so plainly, so confidently, so lackadaisically. It’s as if they don’t realize the treasure they have in each other. I suppose it’s because they’ve all needed help, given help, and readily accepted help at different times. They don’t see anything unusual or extraordinary about it. These locker room exchanges are a microcosm of the support they’ve been for each other in their lives beyond the locker room walls.
A pair was leaving the locker room last week when the words escaped my mouth. “What good friends you have! You ladies are so lucky to have each other.”
They were caught off guard for a moment. They smiled and looked at each other. One hobbled ahead while the other looked at me. She said, “You know, you’re right. We really are.”
I hope I’m blessed enough to become an old locker room lady. Certainly, old age comes with its own crosses. What stage of life doesn’t have a cross? But what a treasure it would be to just be with my friends, family, and everyone I encounter. In this chapter of doing, doing, doing, I know I forget to just be. I suppose that’s how we start and end life, huh? We bring joy just by being as babies. Then, we get so determined to be independent and self-sufficient that we can forget about why we’re doing any of this in the first place. It takes us a lifetime to remember to be, to receive, to allow another’s presence to be all that we need.
Lord, make me a better friend. Help me to allow myself to just be. Help me remember that it is a gift to be able to ask for help, to receive, to allow others to give. There’s no reason I have to wait until I become an old locker room lady.
“A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter:
he that has found one has found a treasure.
There is nothing so precious as a faithful friend,
