When I meet new people, and they ask the typical "what do you do for a living" question, I am always met with surprise when I tell them I am an Air Traffic Controller.  Without fail, the very next question I am asked is "isn't that very stressful'?  I always tell them not as much as being a mom, and I mean that with my whole heart.  Motherhood is the most beautiful, rewarding, precious, pain-in-the-butt, stressful experience that I will ever face.  For me, the most difficult part of being a mother is teaching my children about life-lessons.   I believe the reason why it has been so difficult is because I have been trying to teach my children about a persons individuality, and how every person has a different way of thinking and doing things and how that relates to particular issues at hand.  I always feel that I don't quite parlay what I need to, and that something is missing in my lectures.  I have recently discovered that the missing piece of my lectures was Faith. 

My latest life-lesson comes from my late grandfather.  His passing last week allowed me to stumble on a great piece of history, as well as a glimpse into the soul of a great man.  He served the Marine Corps in WWII, island hopping in the South Pacific.  During his three-year tour, the only "injuries" he faced came from mosquito and flea bites, and a rash that he developed towards the end of his tour.  The letters he wrote to his parents during that time had been saved, and I was lucky enough to stumble accross them while searching for his military paperwork.

My first inclination reading his letters was that I would read all about what WWII was like, what it was like fighting during that time first hand.  I was disappointed (for a second) when I did not read anything of that nature.  (Of course I wouldn't read about that....it was strictly prohibited for safety sake not to write about the goings-on during that time.)  I kept reading, though, and found that I was absolutely mesmerized by his letters.  He wrote the typical "how are you doings" and "I miss you guys" and the "thank you for the pictures".  What struck me, though, was how up-beat and mellow he seemed.  The last letter I came upon was the letter that had the most impact.  I knew he was a Christian, but never really knew how it impacted his life.  I never knew how much he adored God and how he put his life in God's hands.

This letter, short and sweet, was written to his mother while he was in China being treated at a hospital for his rash.  In it, he wrote a single line that said "I haven't had a scratch during this war, aside from this, mosquitoes and fleas.  I have put my faith in God and I know he will get me through unharmed."  I wasn't sure why, but a warmth flooded over me and I began to cry.

A few days later, at his funeral, the pastor made a comment while talking about my grandfathers love of God.  He said that a parents most important job is to teach their children about God and Jesus.  It reminded me of how my grandfather indeed taught his children, my father and his four siblings, about the Word of Christ, the importance of the Church, and how to live your life according to Him.  I knew he was a Sunday School teacher, teaching preschoolers and teenagers.  He was also ordained as a Deacon the year I was born.  He had, indeed, done his job, teaching his children and adults of all ages, all about life-lessons.  Just not the kind of life-lessons I have been teaching.

You see, my faith has been broken and intermittant for the better part of 13 years.  It occurred right after I joined the Army.  I, like many others, experienced doubts and concerns.  I took my questions to pastors and advisors who never answered my questions, and to me, seemed only concerned with tithes and great suits.  I distanced myself from the Church and God, even allowing myself to disassociate not only myself, but my children, from the Faith I was brought up in.  Fast forward to the funeral, and I suddenly felt ashamed of myself.   Ashamed of not continuing the faith of my grandfather and family, of disconnecting myself from God, and ashamed of not exposing my children to something bigger than we are.

Many reading this may think I am crazy, or think it isn't appropriate to talk about faith in a blog such as this.  I find it extremely relevent.  Raising children is so very difficult in an increasingly hostile world.  Faith is very much a part of life, including the many life-lessons I continually try to teach and infringe on my boys.  Many lessons in morality and everyday issues come from the Bible.  As I come to terms with my broken faith and find my way back to His path, I hope I find the courage to do what my grandfather did years before I was born....to embrace God and raise my children in His Light.  Because life-lessons are not really "life" lessons if there is no eternal life to look forward to.