When Life Is Too Noisy

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We sat together on the screen porch.  Just the two of us.  The breeze kissed our cheeks as it greeted the wind chimes.  His feet rested on the rung of the rocking chair as he moved back and forth.  I watched the lemonade as drops of moisture slid down the glass like tears. Birds made music as they flitted by the screen, occasionally stopping on the post to offer a curious look in our direction.  Butterflies resting on rose bushes that seemed to spray perfume with each gentle wind blow.  Sounds of summer.  Smells of summer.  Sights of summer.

He’s 10.  I have 8 more summers with him, Lord willing.  My heart stole a snapshot to tuck away for later.  In the peace and quiet of the moment, I could see God.  Then the peace was disturbed.  2 industrial-sized riding lawn mowers began cutting the grass at the park next to our house.  Drowning the sounds of summer, covering the scents of summer, and clouding the sights of summer.

Raising my head from the pillows of the wicker sofa, I sat up straighter.  I closed the book I’d been reading and moved the lemonade aside.  So much for a relaxing afternoon on the porch.  His posture never changed, the rocking never stopped.  He seemed unfazed by the noise and distraction.

“Mom, do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Mom, do you hear that?”

“I can barely hear you.  All I hear is a loud mower.”

“Listen.  Stop and listen.”

Stop? I had not moved, except to reposition in aggravation.  Listen?  To a mower?

“Mom, what is that?  It sounds like someone is whistling.  I think the lawn mower man is whistling.”

No way you could hear a whistle over that noise.  But history has proven that if anyone can hear or see something the rest of us miss, it’s Jacob.  So I listened.  But I heard nothing. Except noise.  I heard no gentle whistle.  All sounds of summer sliced by the blades of the mower.

“I’m sure it’s not a whistle.  All the noise would block it out.”

“No, I see his lips.  When I heard the faint sound of a whistle, I started looking to see where it was coming from.  When his mower faced me, I could see the curve of his lips.  He is whistling.”

I did the same.  When the mower turned in my direction, I looked at his lips.  Sure enough, they were in whistling position.  Then I could hear it.  Before I saw his lips, I couldn’t hear the whistle through the noise.  When I began looking for the sound, I could hear it.  Clearly.

And that is how I hear and see God.  The noise and distraction of the world attempts to drown Him out. His voice through the noise is soft and gentle.  Patient and slow.  Kind and loving.  It’s hard to hear when the volume of life turns up.  The key lies in looking to Him even when you can’t hear Him over the noise.  Watching His lips as they whisper softly to you.  When you see the curve of the lips, you can hear the gentle whispers.

 Jeremiah 29:13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

Where are you hearing and seeing God through the noise of life?

Please Don’t Preach To Me

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As our car inched its way to the Charlotte Motor Speedway, I felt like we were in a scene from the movie Argo.  Except there were no guns.  Or no real threat of danger for that matter.  Four of us rode in the shelter of our car through what felt like mobs and mobs of people, and everything looked foreign.

Loud music blared from tailgaters while celebratory laughter and conversation dodged in and out.  Swarms of race fans made their way by foot from a mile away.  Street corners boasted ticket scalpers as our car moved an inch at a time to our parking section.

A voice coming through a loudspeaker caused me to strain my eyes through the crowd to see where it was coming from.  A man holding a microphone pacing back and forth.  A lady sitting in a chair to his side.  Tall speakers surrounding them like a hedge of protection.

The inflection of his voice hinted to his message.  The rise and fall of his words, the passion that gave rise to the words. His motives were pure, I’m sure.  His method?  Well, it didn’t draw me in.  Not only did his words not draw me in, they did the exact opposite.  They caused me to cringe in my seat.  To sink a little lower into the leather and want to hide my face.

As race fans rolled their coolers past his makeshift stage, his wagging finger and booming voice spoke of rules and not relationship. I never saw one person stop to hear the message he really wanted to share. The message that Jesus came and died for them.  The message that they are loved and cherished.  The message He came to save.  Maybe he gave that message as well.  I only heard a couple of minutes of his sidewalk sermon.

I can relate to the ones rolling the coolers down the sidewalk.  A wagging finger never brought me closer.  It made me hide my face and turn away in shame.  But in His lovingkindness, He brought ones to me that didn’t wag a finger in my face and tell me where I’d burn if I didn’t turn away.  Instead He brought the ones that told me of the place He was preparing for me and how One came to die so that I could be there with Him one day.  They told of a love that was irresistible.  It didn’t scream at me that I was a failure.  It whispered, “I know this life is hard and temptation is great.  So I’ve come to conquer it, so you can live in my power, not yours, and experience victory.  Because I love you.”

When Jesus walked this earth, He didn’t wag fingers and guilt people towards Him.  His love did all the work.  He spoke in parables to communicate His messages.  People were drawn to his stories.  They found their place in the words He spoke.  They saw who they were in his stories.  His stories spoke love, redemption, kindness, and mercy.  His patience and kindness draws us to him.

The same holds true for the ones in our lives.  Our children, our parents, our friends, our neighbors.  The ones He has placed in our lives.  Our wagging finger will turn them away.  I see it in my kids daily.  When I’m preachy a look comes over their face.  They no longer hear my heart behind the words. They hear the accusing words, and they shut down.  But when I change my tactic, when I draw them in with kindness, hearts soften, ears open, and my words are invited in.

We can learn a lot from the sidewalk preacher and Jesus.  When I parent my boys, I want to be like Jesus, not the sidewalk preacher.  I want to gently draw them to me so they will be drawn to Him.  When I speak to friends and family, I hope they see the patience of Jesus, not an accusing finger.  I can’t think of a single time in my life someone’s wagging finger, accusing position, judgmental tone, or harsh criticism has ever caused a genuine shift in my heart.

Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin? Romans 2:4

How about you?  What are some ways you have felt drawn towards someone because they showed love and kindness?

Mission Mondays: A Summer Tradition

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Summer is in full swing and so begins one of my favorite summer traditions.  Mission Mondays.  Summer is for memory-making.  We have so many opportunities to create meaningful memories.  While we are creating memories, we can do something for others in need while sewing seeds of compassion into our children’s hearts.

2 years ago we labeled Mondays as Mission Mondays.  These were dedicated days of service projects.  Looking back over the years, these projects have become some of our favorite memories.  As my boys get older, I’m realizing how important continuing this tradition actually is.

This year we invited friends to join us.  For our first mission project of the summer, we filled blessing bags. These are bags that you fill to keep in your car so when you pass a homeless person in need you have something to offer them.  We fill the bags with personal hygiene items, small non-perishable food items, a Bible, a handmade card, some hard candy, etc.

Once our bags were filled and cards made, we moved to our 2nd project.  Making a welcome sign for a 12-year-old we are hosting through New Horizons for Children this summer.  If you have been a reader here for awhile, you will remember when we hosted Viktors, an orphan from Latvia, during Christmas 2012. This summer we will host again, this time a girl. We know her well since she has been hosted by my sister’s family 2 times.  We are so excited to shower her with love this summer.  And have some girl flair in this male-dominated home for a few weeks.

This summer we have selected 4 Mondays to serve others.  I find that my children tend to learn through action rather than just my words and these projects allow them to become involved and take ownership.  Summer is a time of fun and relaxation, but I want them to see beyond themselves.  To see that summer isn’t about only themselves and having fun.  I want them to use their time and their talents to serve others.

Our first Mission Monday last week had the girls all over it.  Marina has a beautiful sign that will greet her in 9 days!

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Here are some Mission Monday posts from the past:

Homeless Blessing Bags

Mission Monday Ideas

Lemon-Aide Stand

What are some ways your family serves others during summer break?  I have shared a few ideas in the links above and would love to hear your ideas!

 

 

The Fear You Thought You Conquered

 

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We stood in line to ride the one ride I said I never wanted to ride.  I don’t like fear to stand in my way, so last year I swallowed my fear and rode the ride.  The same one that rose 300 feet into the air before breaking down.  The same one that stranded riders at 300 feet for hours.  I rode it.  All was fine.  I believed my fear had seen defeat.  That was last year.

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Each time I’ve ridden, the fear has decreased, but it’s always remained in the back of my mind.  This time was no different.  Except it was. Steve and I took our seats, clicked in, even posed for a picture.  The swings rise 300 feet until you reach the top for a beautiful view of Charlotte.  The breeze picked up as we gently made our way around the circle.

Steve looked out to the city, “You know this really is a relaxing ride.”  The words barely escaped his lips when the ride took a lurch.

“Well, except when that happens.”  The swings stopped.  You have got to be kidding me.  Everything in me wanted to scream and panic.  We were stuck.  And the fear was so threatening all I could do was breathe, lay my head back, and let go.

Fear.  I despise fear.  Just when you think you’ve got it under control, it rears its nasty head to taunt you.  Reminding you of its presence.  I thought my fear was the ride.  I thought I conquered my fear by riding the ride.  My true fear was not the ride.  It was being stuck on the ride.  And that was a fear I had never faced until that moment.

I’ve procrastinated writing a new blog post.  Telling myself that having the kids home all day every day makes writing hard.  Telling myself I need to work on other writing projects, not my blog.  Telling myself it’s because I have so much to do around the house and with the kids and this and that.  I’ve been lying to myself.  So can I confess to you?

Here’s the truth.  I’m scared.  I’m avoiding writing because I fear the reaction. Not because I’m anticipating a reaction, but the opposite possibly.   What if I get no reaction?  You see I tell people all the time that I used to care too much about what people thought about me, but I’ve outgrown that in my maturing years.  Yeah right.  That’s a lie, too.  I still care very much what people think about me.

That’s why I’ve procrastinated writing a post.  I’m afraid to let you down.  I’m afraid you won’t like what you read.  I’m afraid that you might be a reader that liked my post that went viral and now you are expecting another one to touch you the same way.  And I don’t want to disappoint you.

I’ve never written from the position of fear before.  Yes, I’ve faced this in life with other circumstances.  But when I write, I simply write.  I write from my heart using situations and stories God has brought into my days.  I don’t sit at the computer thinking about what people will think.  Or at least I thought I didn’t.  Until God used a letter to my boys on my blog to create reaction I’m not accustomed to in order to show me that yes I do still care what others think.

My entire life I’ve placed an enormous amount of pressure to perform on myself.  Whatever I excelled in naturally brought praise.  The praise planted fear in my heart.  Fear of failure the next time around.  Failure leads to disappointing others.  And I hate to let people down.  So I tried hard.  Really, really hard.

A performance-based life that feeds on praise lives in fear.

My try hard life shows me in the clearest way my desperate need for grace.  I need grace daily.  When I fail, I want to know it will be ok.  When I mess up, I want to know I’m still accepted.  When I disappoint, I want to know I’m still loved.

It’s the gospel.

What I’m seeking from others in my life, can only come from one.  The same holds true for you today.

So today I write.  An average post that will not go viral.  I’m choosing to accept the fact I might disappoint some.  I’m choosing to accept that I can’t do everything perfectly.  I’m choosing to tell my fears to run away.  I’m choosing to release the pressure to perform so I can open my hands to grace.  And I thank you for grace.

What fears are you facing today?  What fears did you believe you had under control only to see them resurface?  Where are you trying so hard that you are closing your hands to grace?

When you feel like a kid going to camp

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I stood in the registration line surrounded by people who all seemed to know someone. The chatter was a constant reminder that I knew no one yet.  My clammy hands continued to readjust my bags and check my schedule printout.  A few deep breaths would have helped, but I kept forgetting.  The line opened up to my turn, and I stepped forward.

As I approached the kind eyes behind the counter, a group of old friends reunited in the line next to me with hugs and squeals. The kind eyes met mine, “First time here?”  Maybe my shaky hands gave me away.  “Well, hey, maybe next year when you come back to the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference, that’ll be you.” I appreciated his effort, so I smiled an offering of thanks.

Do you ever find yourself in situations you feel completely out of place?  As if you don’t belong at all?

The voice of fear loves when we are in these places because we are usually more inclined to listen to its voice.  The anxiety I experienced in the weeks leading up to the conference reached new heights as I arrived that day. I didn’t know a soul there and could list 10 reasons why I didn’t belong.

For months I worked on writing a manuscript and proposal to pitch to agents and editors at this conference.  Brand new territory for me, and a recording played in my mind why the time was not now.  I had a group of friends praying for me, and I felt it all week long.

Each time I sat in the seat facing an agent or editor, I felt the presence of Jesus.  Each time I carried my cafeteria tray into the dining hall, I felt the presence of Jesus.  Each conversation I had with a new friend, I saw Jesus.  He met me each step of the way.

The moments of life are rarely about what we think.  I went to that conference to pitch a book.  It’s not about the book.

Life is about knowing Jesus more, trusting in Him, and realizing apart from Him, I have nothing to offer.

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In this life comfort and peace are felt through fingers that cling to Him.

Life is about knowing Jesus and making Him known.

Departure morning I awoke early, packed my car, and headed to the dining hall for my last cafeteria breakfast.  The nervous jitters were back, but they were different this time.  I was no longer nervous about the unknown – the messing up my pitch, or who I would sit with and talk to, or if I would get lost.

My last class ended, and I headed to the conference center book store.  As hard as arriving had been, leaving proved to be equally hard.  So I shopped for reminders to bring home.  I felt like a kid leaving camp, loading up her pockets with trinkets that would find a home in the crevice of the couch.  Lost and rediscovered years later to remind of new friends, new memories, and heartwarming moments.  I felt like that 14 year-old leaving summer camp with a pocket full of memories.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes as I drove down the mountain.  My heart ached for home and my heart  was filled by Jesus through new friends and new experiences.  I left that mountain knowing I had experienced Jesus again.  Moment by moment, He met me.  Through kind eyes at registration.  Through arms that pulled out a chair at lunch.  To the words that encouraged me to keep writing that book.  To the WWJD bracelets in my pocket for my boys. The little reminders.  The not-so-little reminders.  Manifestations of the living God.

What are some times you’ve experienced God recently?  What are some ways you realized God was meeting your needs or simply meeting with you?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
—Philippians 4:6-7

Finding Spiritual Whitespace Book Review

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[box] This post is part of the “Finding Spiritual Whitespace Blog Tour” which I am a part of, along with a group of soulful, journeying kindreds. To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE! [/box]

I’m a “judge a book by it’s cover” type of girl.  I wish it weren’t true, but it is.  That is disappointing for the wonderful books that could change my life that I will never purchase or read.  Finding Spiritual Whitespace caught my attention with the title.  Particularly the subtitle “Awakening your soul to rest”.

Who doesn’t ache for rest?  We women need rest and rarely get any.  Rest is something I have always struggled with.  I’m a list-maker, box-checking, get it done kind of spirit.  Once it’s all done, I’ll rest.  The problem?  It’s never all done.  A completed checklist is an illusive dream.  It’s a lie.

When I discovered Bonnie’s book, I knew I needed to read the words inside that beautiful cover.  But, seriously, could I really add one more thing to my to-do list?  If I sign up for this blog tour, I’m just adding to my list, putting rest a little further away.  Right?  Something continued whispering.  Read this.

I met a new friend at the writers conference I recently attended that told me she reads in every nook and crannie of her day.  In the shower even. I’m not kidding.  Fascinating.  I’ll try a version of this productivity.  I’m always up for new ways to pack in one more thing.  While my boys busied about their morning chores, I snuck away to shower and start in on the 30 minute drama that is blow-drying my hair.

Chapter 1 – “I was a little girl, standing in the middle of the broken driveway sloping down into the busy street………I stood there, heart pounding in my ears, hot tears flooding my eyes.  I cried with my mouth open, stuck in a silent howl unable to make it’s way out of my body.”  Bonnie Gray- page 25

The smell of burnt hair snapped me into reality.

Bonnie just described me.  I have a very similar memory.  A similar story.  My mind began to race.

“There was no one to comfort me.  No one to tell me why…..No one to hold me after…..Not that day.  Not that night…..And that is how I learned to take care of me.” Bonnie Gray – page 25

I couldn’t stop turning the pages.  This book is meant to be a slow read.  One that you take nibbles of.  But I couldn’t.  I had to see what God had for me in these words.  He has a message for me through the gift of words He has placed inside this author.  I stopped at the end of Chapter 1.

These words need to simmer in my soul in order to awaken it to the rest it aches for.

Is this book for you?  Possibly.  Very likely it could be just what your soul is in need of right this minute.  Summer is a good time for a soul-soaking read.  Linger long over her words and be blessed.

[box] Bonnie Gray is the writer behind Faith Barista.com who wrote a book about her inspiring, heart-breaking journey to find rest, which garnered Publisher’s Weekly starred review. I’m taking the journey to find rest through this guidebook and invite you to read it too. You can get a copy HERE.[/box]

A Letter To My Boys (The Real Reason I Say No To Electronics) – Repost

I originally posted this letter to my boys in January 2014. Within the first 7 days, this post was viewed 70,000 times. I received comments and emails that left me in tears. So many of us share these feelings and this letter gave voice to what you held in your heart. I am reposting today because as we head into summer, it’s easy to slip into patterns of excessive screen time. I want to remind us that our time is short with our children. Let’s make memories. Let’s claim this time. Original post and comments can be found here.

Important note before you read – If you plan to skim this, please don’t bother to read it. You will miss the point completely. I do not fear technology. My children have access to devices and technology. I’m not setting them up for failure in society. They know how to use computers, phones, and video games. We give limits and train them to exhibit self-control. I welcome all comments, but if you plan to comment in a negative or nasty way, it will be discarded. Thank you and blessings!

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Listen to the audio version of this post by clicking here.

Dear Boys,

Do you remember the day we went to the drugstore and the lady said, “Wow, you are the first kids I’ve seen all day with nothing in your hands.” Remember how she marveled at how you didn’t need an electronic device to carry through the store? I know how her words made you feel. I know how it reminded you that you are different because your mom limits your electronic usage. I know it was yet another reminder.

The same reminder you receive when we are out to eat and you notice all the kids playing their phones and iPads instead of talking to their parents. I know it was a reminder of all the sporting events where you feel you are the only kids whose parents are making them cheer on their siblings rather than burying themselves in a phone. I know it was another reminder to you that you feel different in this electronic age we live in.

Well, boys, it’s not you. It’s me. Me being selfish maybe. You see I can’t bear to miss a moment with you. Let me explain.

I want to talk to you when we are out to eat. I want to listen to your questions. I want to have training opportunities. I want to allow space for conversation that can take us deeper. And if you are always distracted with electronics, well… I might miss those moments.

I could give you all the statistics about how damaging it is to your development, your attention span, your ability to learn. While all of those are valid reasons to keep electronics away, that is not my primary reason why I say no to you so much. It’s more than that. Much more. I need you to understand this.

When we are together, I want all of you. The fullness of you. I want to experience you. Truly experience you. And I can’t do that with you when there is an electronic device between us. You see it acts as a barrier. I want to see what brings life to those eyes. I want to watch the wonder and magic dance across your face as you discover the wonders of this world. I want to watch you as you figure things out. I want to watch you process life, develop your thoughts. I want to know you. I want to know your passions. I want to watch you as you discover your God-given talents and gifts. And when you hide behind a screen, I miss out on all of that. And my time with you….well it will be over in the blink of an eye.

I want to guide you into an understanding of life and who you are. Boys, kids today are starved for attention, true connection and relationship. I don’t want you to feel starved. That is why I say no. I know that feeding the desire to play in your device is like giving you candy. It satisfies for a moment but provides no long term nutrition. It does more harm than good.

I don’t want to look back when I’m out of the trenches of child training and regret a second I had with you. I don’t want to merely survive. I want to thrive in this life with you. We are in it together. We are a family.

Yes, when we are waiting at a doctor’s office for an hour, it would be easier to quiet you with my phone. But if I did that, I fear I would send you a message that says I’d rather hush you than hear those precious words falling from your lips.

I can’t bear the thought of allowing you to miss out on the wonders and mysteries of this world. When you are transfixed on a screen, the beauty of this world will be lost to you. In every moment beauty is waiting to be discovered. I don’t want you to miss it.

I want you to be comfortable with yourself. I want you not to feel a constant need to be entertained and distracted. If you stay behind a screen, you never have to experience just being you, alone with your thoughts. I want you to learn to think, to ponder life, to make discoveries, to create. You have been gifted by God in unique ways. I want those to bloom. They can’t bloom in the glow of a screen. They need life, real life, to bring them to light.

I want you to be confident in who you are. I want you to be able to look people in the eyes and speak life into them. If I allow you to live behind a screen, you get little practice relating eye to eye. To truly know someone you have to look into their eyes. It’s a window into their heart. You see what can’t be seen in cyberspace.

When I tell you no to devices, I’m giving you a gift. And I’m giving me a gift. It’s a gift of relationship. True human connection. It’s precious and a treasure. And you mean so much to me that I don’t want to miss a second of it.

I love how God created your mind. I love to hear the way you think and process life. I love to see what makes you laugh. I love to watch those eyes widen when a new discovery is made. And when your head is behind a screen, I miss all of that. And so do you.

In this life we have few cheerleaders. In this family we will cheer each other on. I know it is boring to sit at swim lessons and watch your brother learn to swim. I know it is boring to sit through a 2 hour baseball practice. And in all honesty, it would be easy for me to give you the iPad and keep you quiet and occupied. But we all lose out when we do that. You will miss out on watching your brother’s new accomplishments. You will deprive him of the joy of his moment to shine for you. You will miss out on what it means to encourage each other.

I want you to grow up knowing the world doesn’t revolve around you. (One day your wife will thank me) I want you to learn to give selflessly of yourself….to give away your time, your talents, your treasures. If I distract you with electronics when you should be cheering for your brother, well, I’m simply telling you that your happiness is more important than giving your time to someone other than yourself.

This world needs more selflessness. This world needs more connection. This world needs more love. We can’t learn these behind a screen.

I want to raise sons that know how to look deeply into the eyes of the ones they love. I want my future daughters in law to know what it’s like to have a husband that looks deeply into her eyes because he knows the value of human relationships and the treasure of love. And that is best communicated eye to eye.

I want to watch your face illuminated by the majesty of life – not the glow of a screen. I want all of you. Because I only have you for a short while. When you pack up and leave for college, I want to look back with no regrets over the time I spent with you. I want to look back and remember how your eyes sparkled when we talked. I want to look back and remember how I actually knew those little quirky details of your life because we had time enough to be bored together.

It’s ok to be bored. We can be bored together. And we can discover new things together.

I love you. I love you too much to quiet you with an iPhone or an iPad or a DS. And I can’t even apologize, because I’m really not sorry. I’m doing this so that I won’t be sorry one day.

With all my love,

Mom

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