Writing on the Wall
There’s a print shop right down the road from our house. They make all the random projects in my head do-able. I email them often, tell them my idea, and they work their printshop magic. I call the staff “Benjamin’s ladies”, and it’s always a treat to visit them.
My latest project was brightly colored, laminated cards with pictures and my handwriting on them. I posted site words, colors and a “feelings wall” around the house. (The fruit of my labors thus far has been having one more thing to shout “Hands off!” about while Benjamin simultaneously stares at me with gorgeous, innocent eyes and creates a 20-minute clean up job with his hands. But that’s neither here or there.)
As Benjamin explored the pictures on the wall the first morning they were posted, I started thinking about how we were creating his worldview, his language, his value system.
Our words create our realities. That might be a bit deep for site cards I could only invest 33% of my brain power into, but the words on our walls depict what Benjamin is most familiar with. His favorite foods: oranges, bananas, bread, cheese, and milk. They show his favorite outdoor activities: mowing, sweeping and playing with a ball. There are his shoes, the door, a bike, and the car because that kid likes to be OUT. There is a picture of exercise, the dogs, and his family.
There’s something sweet and humbling about providing the words that give an avenue to communicate. We have the same right and responsibility to ourselves and our families. The words we listen to, speak, or let play around us shape us. The images we post, scroll through or tune in to write roadmaps into our minds. Our lives become what we let them be shaped by.
The truth is, one day soon, Benjamin won’t need site cards posted on the walls. He will be able to read, write and communicate independently. But he will be learning his worldview from Chris and I for a much longer time. He will look at the pictures of our lives, and listen to the words we say about it. Lifa is doing that now as he begins molding his own worldview. I wish I could post pictures on his wall of “right and wrong”, “good and bad”. I wish I could give him a road map for life. But this season in his life is where the writing on the wall is no longer words and pictures, but conversations, memories and moments that shape him.
If you were to post site cards for yourself today - the pictures and words that say the most about you - what would they be? Would the represent who you are and who you want to be? It’s something to think about!
