Talking to Children About Death (Podcast Episode with Allison Kieselowsky)

Living Our Vocations, Season One, Episode 4: "Talking to Children About Death and Loss" with Allison Kieselowsky.

Recently my son asked me, "But Mommy, what did Jesus save us from?" It's a tough question. The answer doesn't make any sense unless I talk to him about death. Yet death is a very uncomfortable subject. In this episode, Allison Kieselowsky--a pastor's wife, teacher, and mom--shares some wonderful, theologically-driven examples of how she talks to her kids about death and loss.

You can listen-in here in this post or head over to iTunes, Libsyn, or Stitcher. As always, we are grateful for reviews (more reviews on iTunes will allow more people to find our podcast). 

Links

Singing About Death

Nurturing Our Children with the Language of Luther (from the archives)

(Originally published in April of 2014).

By Allison Kieselowsky

Last fall, Stanford researchers published their findings after a study of 18-month-old children in families of both low and high socioeconomic status (SES).  They found that children’s language processing speeds in low SES families begin slower than children in higher SES and that this gap grows as the children age, which impacts academic achievement throughout the children’s school years.  Read the article HERE. 

At the end of the article, the head researcher, Anne Fernald, a Stanford associate professor of psychology, concludes, “The good news is that regardless of economic circumstances, parents who use more and richer language with their infants can help their child to learn more quickly.”  It’s no surprise that the issue here is less about family income and more about familial stability (or lack thereof) and language interactions between adults and children.  Children who hear supportive, rich language throughout the day will comprehend language more fully and will process language more quickly.

I know many families who conscientiously speak complete sentences to infants and toddlers, who read books to their children, and who strive to temper discipline or correction of children with words of love and encouragement.  I wonder, though, if even in families with rich language experiences, a dearth of rich biblical conversation and instruction has created a similar language gap in terms of understanding God’s Word.  If our children do not regularly hear rich theological language that forces them to struggle with their souls, we are creating ears that are slow to learn and process the teaching of Holy Scripture.

Consider what I was taught as a four-year-old growing up in a non-denominational church. I learned that I did bad things which made me a sinner; Jesus died in my place and took the punishment I deserved; I needed to accept Jesus into my heart to be forgiven for my sins.  On the surface, that may seem like an age-appropriate explanation of some basic Christian teachings.   It seemed satisfactory until I began to memorize Luther’s Small Catechism with my daughters.  In contrast to what I learned, Luther recommended this explanation for small children: “I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from all eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.”

The Claws of a Sister

By Allison Kieselowsky

I’ve had bad experiences with cats.  They have been known to claw up my legs under my skirt, to stalk me late at night after the children I’m babysitting have gone to bed, and to hiss and shred a chair where I’ve sat.  Even without scientific evidence that such a thing exists, I have come to believe I emit some cat-maddening pheromone. This may explain why the adjective “catty” immediately conjures up for me the image of a malicious pet boring into the back of my head with its green eyes, just waiting to pounce.  

Uncomfortable as my interactions with the family Felidae have been, I shudder to think of how ably human females out-feline the cats.  Sisters in particular can be unbelievably catty. From young ages, we girls have a remarkable ability to craftily insult one another and to gossip with the sole purpose of hurting reputations.  We turn off the sympathy-filter because of our familiarity with one another, and all sorts of regrettable things fly out of our mouths before anyone can stop them.    

I have four younger sisters, all smart, hard-working, creative women whom I deeply love.  Of course, I still rule the sisterly realm as the heroine of virtue whose elegant cape gently ripples with righteousness.  I never dwell upon past disagreements, never criticize the way they do things, and certainly never insinuate that I know best.  I set the bar for all gracious big sisters. 

Just ask my sisters. 

Life, Liberty, and Happiness in Christ

By Allison Kieselowsky

I embrace a certain giddiness surrounding the celebration of our country’s Independence Day.  Picnic?  Absolutely.  I appreciate my relatively peaceful existence in a beautiful country, and I think our republic warrants an outdoor food spread to beat the band.  Speaking of bands, I also love a good parade to celebrate the inception of a great experiment, the result of which has allowed my family food, health, shelter, and education. Most of all, I am extremely grateful that the church in our country gathers regularly to receive God's gifts without much thought of persecution.  I think this merits a resounding display of fireworks and a few whoops of delight.

Within the irrepressible American spirit, however, lies a kernel of irony:  our collective patriotism rests squarely on an undeterred sense of individualism. In the 238 years since Colonial leaders sent notice to King George III, citizens of this nation have passionately embraced the words, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their CREATOR, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."  Modern Americans, though, silently modify the last part to "[my] life, [my] liberty, and [my personal] happiness."

American independence has become entwined with self-reliance and the individual’s sense of fulfillment.  I've led American literature classes through the works of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman and Fitzgerald, so I'm well aware of the theme. It finally slapped me across the face, this absolute acceptance of personal rights, when after a series of genetic screening, a perinatologist declared a 1 in 500 chance our unborn daughter had Downs Syndrome.  Since I was nearly 22 weeks along, he said, I needed to decide if I wished to terminate my pregnancy. He said it to me, not to my husband sitting next to me.

What a relief it was in that moment to know that the decision before us wasn’t actually my choice at all. It wasn't my life or my liberty or even my happiness that was on the line, but the life and liberty of the child to whom God had granted existence.  We simply left the office.

Cleaning Your Room as a Spiritual Exercise

By Allison Kieselowsky

If the adage, “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” were included in Holy Writ, it might keep me out of the kingdom.  I read Cheryl’s post that mentioned her drive for organization, and imagined an enchanted castle glittering with pixie dust in a faraway land where items are placed in proper order and maintained by fairies.

To be precise, things in my house actively resist specific storage locations. They land near, but rarely in, the allotted receptacle; or they attempt to escape when my back is turned, resulting in a slightly creepy ottoman with doll eyes peeking out from under the lid. I do wash dishes, sweep floors, wash fingerprints off walls and windows, scrub bathrooms, and do laundry, but I hear myself repeat something my mother would say as she stared forlornly at the cluttered counter: “I used to be organized.” I’m sure there is a mathematical formula that takes the number of people in a household, their ages, and square footage of living space and calculates a reasonable amount of clutter. Anyone?

I’m not even a person who likes things. Well, that’s not entirely true, because I love my double stroller with a passion usually reserved for major sporting events. I also like books, the old-fashioned kind that take up shelf space. And I love my piano, the rocking chair my daughters gave me, wooden shoes from Amsterdam, and . . . what was I saying? Oh, yes. I’m not attached to my possessions.

The Fourth Commandment and the Monarch in the Home

By Allison Kieselowsky

At a recent party, I overheard a group of mothers complaining about having to continually watch two animated television shows.  They illustrated their disdain for children’s programming by mockingly singing the theme song for each one and making fun of the opening credits.  This conversation continued for nearly twenty minutes with complaint after complaint about ridiculous theme songs, tired characters, and pointless narratives.  I was under the impression that they had been forcibly tortured by some evil overlord, until it dawned on me:  these mothers watch shows they purportedly hate because their preschoolers demand it. 

I pledge allegiance to Tot Tyranny?

As I listened, I remembered my education professors describing the authority of the classroom teacher as that of “benevolent monarch,” a term that also appropriately describes the role of parent in the home.  One professor reminded us frequently in a classroom management seminar, “You are in charge.  Act like it.”  If you are anything like me, though, you are a mother who is not quite sure she knows how to act like a benevolent monarch. 

Women in general do not exude the confidence men do in their vocations, as described in this recent article in The Atlantic.  We women, mothers included, tend to underestimate our ability, and our minds are often riddled with self-doubt.  Mothers, like all working women, need to gather the courage to do our job to the highest standards, which means truly believing that we are in charge—not because of our worthiness or credentials, but because God put us in charge. 

Nurturing Our Children with the Language of Luther

By Allison Kieselowsky

Last fall, Stanford researchers published their findings after a study of 18-month-old children in families of both low and high socioeconomic status (SES).  They found that children’s language processing speeds in low SES families begin slower than children in higher SES and that this gap grows as the children age, which impacts academic achievement throughout the children’s school years.  Read the article HERE. 

At the end of the article, the head researcher, Anne Fernald, a Stanford associate professor of psychology, concludes, “The good news is that regardless of economic circumstances, parents who use more and richer language with their infants can help their child to learn more quickly.”  It’s no surprise that the issue here is less about family income and more about familial stability (or lack thereof) and language interactions between adults and children.  Children who hear supportive, rich language throughout the day will comprehend language more fully and will process language more quickly.

I know many families who conscientiously speak complete sentences to infants and toddlers, who read books to their children, and who strive to temper discipline or correction of children with words of love and encouragement.  I wonder, though, if even in families with rich language experiences, a dearth of rich biblical conversation and instruction has created a similar language gap in terms of understanding God’s Word.  If our children do not regularly hear rich theological language that forces them to struggle with their souls, we are creating ears that are slow to learn and process the teaching of Holy Scripture.

Consider what I was taught as a four-year-old growing up in a non-denominational church. I learned that I did bad things which made me a sinner; Jesus died in my place and took the punishment I deserved; I needed to accept Jesus into my heart to be forgiven for my sins.  On the surface, that may seem like an age-appropriate explanation of some basic Christian teachings.   It seemed satisfactory until I began to memorize Luther’s Small Catechism with my daughters.  In contrast to what I learned, Luther recommended this explanation for small children: “I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from all eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.”