The Fine Art of Saying No

This full time RV life has me contemplating all the yeses and nos of my parenting. I think in many ways, this life we chose made us say yes to a lot of really great things. Adventure, pushing ourselves, stretching our comfort zone… Yes to rich experiences. Yes to an unconventional life. 

And really, all these exciting yeses are a welcome opportunity to say no less often. 

Because I say no to a lot. My kids tell me this all the time. 

Examples? Ella finally got her own phone when she turned sixteen. SIX.TEEN. And yes, everyone else in the entire world had a phone but her. But guess what? She survived. 

I also say no to social media for my kids. Ella also didn’t get Instagram until she was 16. And even now, it’s still monitored. 

And yeah, she probably would have chosen to have these opportunities years ago. But someday she may recognize the benefits I see in waiting.

Before the glorious days of owning her own cell phone, she had that great sibling privilege of sharing a phone with her brothers. The “family” phone as we call it. (And if you think there isn’t an argument over this every single day of my life, you would be wrong.)

The shared family phone is an old iPhone. By old, I’m talking about 3 whole years. Ancient. I hear it all the time, this phone is so old. These pictures are so bad. (Um, that phone is easily still worth hundreds of dollars and until you have to share one land line with an entire household never quite sure if your brother is listening in from the bedroom, I don’t want to hear it. I mean, there wasn’t even caller ID when I was growing up. You know what that meant? If the phone rang there was a huge risk in answering it. It might be your best friend or it just might be for your mom which meant you had to GET UP off the couch and go FIND her somewhere. Oh, the hardships of being a teenager in the ’90’s.)

I say no to video games most of the time. I say no to screens in front of faces. I say no to movies and YouTube videos that are mindless or destructive. 

Contrary to what my children certainly believe, this is not to ruin their lives. I’m not trying to steal their joy and rob them of fun. It’s just that there are so many better things to say yes to. 

And I’ve found this is easier to do living a life where the scenery is always changing and new opportunities are waiting. Where we are forced a little more from our comfort zones and unproductive tendencies. 

Several weeks ago I had to head into the city to see a dentist. Days like this, when Anthony still has to work can be tricky for the younger kids. Letting them play video games or watch a movie is an easy way to keep them quiet so he can still be productive. 

But there’s a whole wide world out there. Creativity waits where being entertained ends. Purpose. Intentionality. Relationships. Self-awareness. The benefit of the quiet means more searching of our own hearts. More hearing the Holy Spirit when he speaks. These things don’t just happen when we turn into adults. They start at a young age. Look at Samuel. His life looked pretty different than the other Hebrew boys. Living at the temple with the priests instead of playing in the fields with the other kids. And as a result, God revealed himself. He spoke to Samuel. Maybe Samuel had times he looked longingly at what he was missing as he grew up in a non-conventional way. Or maybe hearing the Lord actually speak helps put this temporal life in perspective.

Griffin spent the day I was gone making an entire village of teepees out of sticks. He met another boy at the campground and they created Teepee Town. It was fantastic. They didn’t just have forts, they had a whole system of playing. They had jobs and would make a certain amount of money and a store where they could buy what they needed. The swept the “streets.” They paid taxes. The creativity behind this was inspiring.

Griffin still talks about that campground as his favorite. The hours he spent outside, creating, building, spending time with a new friend. There could have been other ways to keep him occupied that day. But none would have been as rich.

If I let them, they’d stay in front of a screen most of the day. And you know what? It would make my life so much easier. Less fighting, less entertaining them, less fielding complaints and listening to whining. Less messes for me to clean up. Less being distracted by their questions… or, if I’m honest, their desire for conversation.

Basically, less being a mom. Less responsibility. More uninterrupted personal time. A cleaner house. More peace and quiet. 

And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit this is so appealing. 

But you know what appeals to me more? Depth of character for my kids. Richer relationships with my kids. More meaningful life for them. More boredom. More daydreaming. More creativity. More intentionality. 

There is something so beautiful in the fine art of saying no. Because it makes so much more room for saying yes.

And yes, those yeses are hard yeses. As a mom it often means giving something up.

But saying no to the easy things for parents means saying yes to the richer things for our kids. I’m sure my daughter would tell you differently, but there was tremendous benefit in delaying social media for her. And yes, my kids wish they could watch what “everyone” else is watching and I know there is often great disappointment there, but the benefits of not filling their time with mindless and often damaging viewing will (hopefully) someday be appreciated even by them.

As I am currently planning out Ella’s final 2 years of high school and we talk often of what is next for her in this grand life adventure, I’m struck by how truly fast it goes. How 18 years really does feel like a blink when sitting at year 16 with the young lady God entrusted to me. 

It’s a heavy responsibility. The weight of it sits on my heart and tugs at my soul and reminds me that I get the honor of helping enrich the childhoods of some pretty spectacular humans. I’ve been there for their firsts in life. I get to watch them grow and learn and mature into adults that I pray will impact this world. The bigger picture of what God is drawing with their life is more important than the exhausting and mundane. The sleepless nights and the temper tantrums. It is far more valuable than finishing my own to-do list or feeling in control and organized with my own life. 

I have had the sacred, yet unwanted honor of watching the completion of one of my children’s earthly lives. It’s a hallowed thing to see the book close on a life entrusted to me, to see those short chapters, full of deep joy and unbearable heartache, be written by a perfect Author with purpose and impact. Only six years here, and yet those six years are weaving with so many other stories, causing ripple effects to be marveled over for all eternity. 

The legacy of Mason’s life spurs me on to consider the legacy of each child’s life. To think of their chapters being written now and the small impact I get to have for these few short years. It makes me want to say no to what is easy and say yes to what is rich. Be intentional. Make the sacrifices. Give up the ease of the temporary for the purpose of the eternal. 

I don’t want to give my yeses and nos based on what is convenient, but what is important. What is valuable. What matters most for hearts and souls and character. 

I hope Griffin has more teepee towns in his future. More play. More purpose. More boredom. More creativity. I hope they all have more opportunities to hear the Lord speaking to them. Calling them to richer things. 

Ultimately, I hope that the world my children experience is one where they learn to say no to themselves and yes to the Lord. 

To eternity. To a rich legacy. To the things that really matter.