Shattering the "Force Fields"

One of the most vivid images I have of my childhood is playing imaginary games of war with my brothers. On the rare occasion when I would actually outsmart them in their own prescribed battle, they would try to resist the inevitable defeat by yelling, "Shield's up!" Of course they thought this phrase automatically gave them immunity for with these two words (and whether in time or not) they vindicated their lack of prowess by throwing up the "force field" - this imaginary wall that could totally and instantly secure them from harm's way: their sister's fingernails. I should not have been surprised when I (in my best "Tickle Monster" imitation) eeked towards my son (who was less than two at the time and sitting on my husband's lap) only to hear him exact the same defense that had interrupted the flow of interaction with my brothers so many years ago. "Shield's up! Shield's up, Mommy. Can't touch me."

Who taught him the rules of engagement (or rather disengagement), and why would he think he could use that on me? I was stopped dead in my tracks. I was also sad. Not just about the fact that I wasn't going to be able to connect with him physically at the moment, but also in the realization that he now had a personal way of disconnecting with me - verbally. The "shield" was up, and I was out! Or could I forge through the pretense of invisibility he was affronting? After all, I had successfully defeated the masterminds of many a fine war before, but could I break down the wall of "protection" from my little guy's heart?

First I played the sympathy card: fake crying. He laughed. Then I played the conditional card, "If you let me tickle you, then I'll let you get the mail out of the mailbox with me." (What was I thinking? He couldn't read words. He was just learning to use them and study the responses he got from his adoring parents when he spoke.) Finally, I just decided to play the disinterested card. I walked over to the couch and forced myself not to move a muscle or to look his way.

A few minutes later he had edged himself off Daddy's lap and was heading over to Mommy. He had aptly displayed his knowledge of the "force field" rules that day, but he had also experienced the loneliness of so doing. Mommy had respected the boundary that his "Shield's up!" cry had afforded. Now he had experienced the flip side of his choice of disengagement: ignorance.

As I joyfully welcomed him back onto my lap again and again over the course of the next few years, I told him that he could never use the "force field" on Mommy because the shield could be penetrated in only one way - yet you couldn't see the way, you could only feel it. The Way is Love.

So what is the first ingredient necessary for engaging grace to take place? What is the way to forge past the current "force fields" of power, pride and pretense? How can we lay down our own desires and seek a better way to engage? Love.