Scandrette - Belonging and becoming: creating a thriving family culture

A MANDA AND LUKE ARE PARENTS to three children under three, including a set of twins. Managing our daily schedule is so hectic, its like we live in a giant hamster wheel, Amanda says. The day starts with a bang when the twins wake up at five thirty, then everyone needs to get fed and dressed so that Luke can walk their older son to preschool while Amanda hands the twins off to a caregiver before rushing to catch the train to work. Our schedule is so complicated, Luke says. If one thing doesnt go just rightif the babysitter is running late or one of the kids gets sickit throws the whole day off, and were left scrambling just to keep up.

Carlos confides, You know something is wrong when I wake up in the morning and reach for my smartphone before kissing my wife good morningor Im at the breakfast table looking down at my phone instead of talking to the kids while they munch their cereal. I really want to be a connected father and husband, but its so easy to be distracted.

Before I had children, Maria says, I thought of myself as someone who really lives out their values. I had time to be involved in my community, meeting the needs of neighbors and supporting causes I care about. Now my greatest achievement seems to be a full nights sleep and getting everyone where they need to be on time. I fear Ive given up my dreams and ideals. Im doing what seems urgent, but maybe not whats important.

Perhaps you can relate to the sentiments of these parents. Many of us live lives of distraction, hurry, worry or striving. We desire the wholeness of close relationships, soulful work and rooted vitality, but the everyday demands of life, our expectations and those of our society often leave us feeling fragmented. We have high aspirations for how we want to connect with our children and spouses and for what we hope to provide, but we struggle to find the time, energy and support to fulfill many competing desires and needs. No wonder so many of us feel stretched and tired.

How can a family thrive?

When the two of us met, we almost immediately recognized what we had in common: a passion for families and a desire to create a thriving family of our own. We spent the first five years of our marriage working with underresourced families through a faith-based nonprofit, setting up kids clubs in low-income neighborhoods and government housing projects. We had the privilege of being invited into the lives of many families and witnessed both their beauty and their pain.

Though we didnt yet have children of our own, our apartment became a place of refuge for the children of parents grappling with addiction, mental illness, sexual trauma and the lingering effects of displacement and war. Kids would wander over to our apartment on nights when Mom or Dad were drinking. We hosted family meals with nutritious food, table conversations and gamestrying our best to supplement the warmth, nurture and safety their families struggled to provide.

Perhaps naively, we believed that our time and affection could mitigate the lack of thriving experienced in many of their families. But as these children reached adolescence, the latent effects began to manifest. As teenagers, many of the kids we cared for became parents themselves or ended up in juvenile detention. Several died too early through violence.

Our work with children and parents sensitized us to the dynamics present in healthy families that are often absent in families that fail to thrive. On wooded paths along Minnesota lakes, we went for long walks and talked about the kind of family we hoped to create together. We imagined a household of laughter, fun and deep connections. We wanted an awareness of divine purpose and presence to permeate our lives and shape our decisions. We envisioned doing meaningful work together, using our gifts to serve. We hoped to open our lives to others, especially to those who struggle and suffer. And we desired to live gratefully, creatively and sustainably.

Envisioning the kind of family we wanted to be was a start, but it would take a lifetime to enact. In the early years of our marriage, we thought we were getting traction on the life wed imagined, but as our three children, Hailey, Noah and Isaiah, came alongone after the other over three yearslife became more complicated. We didnt get an uninterrupted night of sleep for five years. That time was a blur of diaper changes, feedings, teething, earaches and laundry.

Before kids, we felt supremely confident about our skills for relating; wed even done our university studies in family counseling and early childhood education. But living out those skills day to day proved to be much harder. With kids, we felt more pressure about money and career, and the competing demands of work and home revealed our unhealthy patterns for dealing with stress. We became conscious of the gap between the family we wanted to be and the family we actually were. With so many more decisions to make together, it was sometimes difficult to come to an agreement. It began to feel like our hopes, dreams and ideals for family life were slipping away.

Conventional wisdom told us that we should put our deepest dreams on hold in order to provide our kids with the American dream: a safe neighborhood, good schools and upward mobility. Just before our son Noah was born, we bought our first house. Mark took a job as minister to families at a local church and started graduate school. During those years, Lisa stayed home to care for our children while Mark commuted to work each day. We had a home in the country, a minivan in the garage and a busy schedule of activities. Life for our growing family was good and stable, but it felt fragmented. We were succeeding in one or two areas but found it challenging to make all the parts of life work together. Wed always imagined our family being at the center of a life of shared service and adventure, not segmented like it was.