I believe that to say nothing, is to agree. So I must say something.

Many of us are grasping for answers. This has not started with the recent tragedy in the synagogue, but has become a cauldron, bubbling over. It is misty and dark and we can’t take our eyes off of it. As parents, we are not standing with our brothers at arms and fighting on foreign soil, we are fighting a thick tar of hate. We must dig our heels in here at home and raise a generation of hope.

• Do not allow those in leadership to behave poorly and expect our children not to follow in those footsteps. No matter the office, people must be held accountable for their words and their actions.
• Shine light into the darkest cracks. Expose evil and do not hide it.
• Explain to your children to use their voice to speak out right away against injustice so that all may be safe and everyone will be held accountable.
• Fight the lie that brokenness means that you are unwanted or unworthy. Remind them that cracks are where light gets through and they can use their light to help others.

I recently heard a beautiful talk about cloistered religious brothers and sisters. My dear friend, Claire, explained of the rhythm of their days. In this rhythm of seclusion, it is very clear when any change or distraction is present. This discussion led to a discussion about the rhythm of the week. In our Catholic faith, we think of different mysteries of the church as we pray. (Monday is Joyful, Tuesday is Sorrowful, etc.). This led to a discussion about the rhythm of the liturgical year (Lent to Easter, etc.).

And then, Monday evening, we had a discussion of boundaries at our middle school youth group.

I can’t stop thinking about the protection and rest that a rhythm provides.

When we live in a world with rhythm and boundaries, we notice when distraction enters. We startle when something unusual passes by.

Our schedules, our phones, the comparison of what we do or do not do keeps us, even if just for a few seconds, from our children. First we allow little post-it-notes to take priority over the little ones asking us to play with them. Then we don’t even notice because our life feels hurried and rushed and distracted. We feel pulled and stretched.

And we have gotten used to it.

To be exhausted is the norm. To be overwhelmed means you have the correct amount on your to-do-list.

What if a lovely rhythm of peace was how we began our morning? Or how we ended our day? We could just start there.

Start to put up a hedge against the most important job in our day – teaching our children with our full love and attention. Build a wall around your family with the rhythm of family dinner and bedtime prayers. Watch as your children absorb every word and action.

Watch what happens as you teach them to speak justly, love mercy, and act humbly.

You are the changemaker.