Stepping off the crazy busy cycle and embracing a simpler life

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We are a fear-based culture. We fear if we don’t sign our kids up for music, karate, and baseball, they will be left behind the pack. That if we don’t get them in the best school in kindergarten, they are doomed for the rest of their life. That if we don’t find their sport of specialty by age 7, we can forget them getting a scholarship.

We follow the masses who follow this fear-based life that leads to crazy busy like we’ve never seen before.

Busy. We are too busy. We are exhausted. And what is the point of it all? Really?

Parents are worn down from centering their lives around their children, giving their children the best of experiences, education, and opportunities. This is exactly what the enemy hopes we will do. He hopes we feed on this enough and spread it to those in our circle of influence.

We run our kids to piano then to soccer, then to camp, then to a friend’s house. And that is just one kid. Times the number of kids, it’s no wonder marriages are struggling to connect and we have no time to serve.  It’s no wonder our kids feel entitled and the need to be entertained. We feel disconnected at home. When we are running from here to there, eventually we arrive at a place and wonder is it all worth it? What is the goal of the crazy busy madness?

It only intensifies as they move through the teenage years. Then they leave, and we are left to wonder if all the busy mattered. Was it worth it?

Did the busy shape their hearts? Did speaking two languages, while playing an instrument and becoming an incredible little league pitcher…did it make them strong in their inner being? Did it make them a person who can stand for truth in the pressure of culture? Did it make them compassionate and tender so they can be one who impacts a change in our world? Did it make them confident in who they are not what their abilities are? Abilities and talents come and go, but did the busy make them secure of who they are in the core of their soul?

Is the busy worth it?

I experienced something recently that opened my eyes to the enormity of a simpler, less busy life, an open schedule, and a great big giant God. I’m sharing this story not to brag on my kids. I can share a book of stories that would embarrass my children (and us), but I want to do neither. I want the focus of this story not on my kids. I want you to read this through the lens of a giant God and what He desires to do in our homes and why we might want to consider stepping off the crazy busy ride.

Margin must be created intentionally in this culture. Schedules must be left open on purpose in order to serve a greater purpose.

If we don’t create the margin on purpose, it will never exist. When we leave space in our lives, we can spontaneously host or accept last minute dinner guests or invites. We can say yes to a need that pops up around us. Time will always be filled one way or another. But when we leave time open on purpose, we allow God an opportunity to fill it with what is most important.

On Wednesday, I had a fairly wide open schedule. The schedule was open, yet the task list was full. I had plenty of work to do to fill every second of the day. I did something different that day. I prayed for God to highjack my time and to direct my every step. I should do this every day, but I don’t.

One day I can share the cool stories that happened, but for now let me say that my day ended up being hours of amazing miracles. It was like God was screaming, “This is how it could always be if you gave me your time all the time!”

Not only was the day open, but the night was open too. And God continued to direct the steps that would make up this day.

Our church holds a prayer meeting in the chapel for about 20 minutes every Wednesday night. It is typically the same dedicated people who show up week after week to pray over the needs of the church. On Wednesday I felt a prompting in my spirit to go. I voiced it to a friend who encouraged me to go with the boys. Steve was not going to be home that evening. I fully expected the boys to dread the idea of going to something at church that would not entertain them, where there would be no other kids, and would not be about them at all.

To my complete shock, the boys showed nothing but excitement. Even when I explained how it would work. We arrived to the quiet chapel. The boys took a seat in the pews. They opened Bibles and began reading. (This is the point I need to remind you please don’t focus on my boys here…focus on what God did through them and despite me)

Several kind souls introduced themselves, spoke to my boys, shook our hands, welcomed us, explained how the prayer meeting runs. The pastor arrived, I shared the requests on our hearts, which is what prompted us to attend. The pastor and others shared the needs they were aware of. The pastor asked everyone to bow their heads and pray silently.

While in silent prayer, I felt a little hand on my back begin to rub up and down. Then it found a way to my hand and held tight. I felt his little body adjust as the time increased in silent prayer. Then I heard his precious whispers, “Dear God, I pray for my daddy’s job. And God, I pray for Jacob’s math grades. And dear God, I pray for Zachary’s grades. And dear God, I pray for my baptism. And I pray for my mom.”

Talk about a full heart. Nothing in the world compares to feeling the presence of God and hearing a child’s heart poured out before Him.

The pastor closed us in prayer. We stopped in the prayer room to say hello to the sweet souls who would gather for the next hour to lift up these requests, and we left.

As we exited the building, one of my boys who complained of stomach pains on the way to church, said, “Mom, I feel so much better now. I feel physically better, but I feel spiritually better.”

“I know what you mean. Something about being in the presence of God just puts everything right.”

“Yes, mom! You could feel God’s presence there. It is so different than on church days. There was something so neat about there only being a few people there and it being quiet so we could just be with God.”

Another son spoke up, “Mom, this was awesome. Can we make this an every Wednesday night thing?”

Stunned again.

Then another son, “Yeah! This was so much fun!”

Then the first son, “What was so neat is that one of the ladies reminded the group to pray for our family. Mom, it was like she genuinely cared for us.”

That is church. That is REAL church. Not the programs and activities. Not the sermons and lessons. Not the people who fail and disappoint us. It’s the hearts that love Jesus so much that they genuinely care for others and love others enough to lift them to the Father.

The reminder again- I don’t need fancy programs to engage my kids for Christ. I don’t need to make it fun and energetic (though there is nothing wrong with that). They only need Jesus. They only need the presence of God. They only need Him. Something about the quiet allows us to experience Him in an intimate way.

Something about the freedom of a slow schedule allows us to interact with Him in sacred ways. This is what our culture is desperate for. We are desperate for Him, but we run ourselves ragged keeping pace with the world around us and we crowd Him out. Or we base our decisions on the interests of our kids- like I almost did. I almost didn’t attend for fear my kids wouldn’t be interested rather than attending regardless of if they wanted to or not. Praise God He prepared their hearts to desire to attend.

I hear it all the time. I see it all the time. We are busy, busy, busy. And the enemy loves it. We put on our busy badge with pride when what we need to do is stomp it to pieces and be proud that we have an open schedule. It doesn’t mean we aren’t important or unloved. It means we’ve chosen to leave space for the sacred moments. We’ve chosen to leave space for God to bring unexpected invitations and engagements our way.

God is all we need. It’s our culture that adds to Him. We live in a bigger is better, more is desirable world. He wants to give us more than we’ve ever desired. But we choose the lesser option. And we have no idea what we’ve done.

You see, God is a God of bigger is better too. Just not like we think. We’ve never imagined the bigger He has in store for us. Not bigger houses, nicer cars, fancier vacations. The bigger He has takes away all desires for the things of this world. The bigger He offers leaves us on a high like we’ve never experienced. The bigger He has sustains us, fills us.

If we want more than we’ve ever imagined, the first step is taking our family off the crazy busy ride with our culture. It’s to decide to leave margin in the schedule every day, every week, every month. It’s to be ok with nothing to do and to instead open our hands to God and cry out, “God fill this time with what you desire.”

You will not believe what He does with your time. He is the greatest gift Giver. Give Him your time and watch how He will change your heart, your children, your marriage, your home, your life.

Leave space so God can do in you and through you what will never be accomplished on the crazy busy cycle.

Psalm 115:4

May the Lord give you increase, you and your children!

 

When I thought I no longer struggled with comparison

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There is a theme that comes up over and over again. This idea of comparison. I continue to see new books released on comparison, blog posts circulating.

It’s one of the most common struggles I hear women voice.

Last week, my prideful self said, “I don’t get it. Why is comparison this big deal? I just don’t struggle with that.”

And then.

God does this to me. All…the….time.

I opened up one of my favorite blogger’s blog post. I subscribe so I never miss one of her posts. And it wasn’t her normal type of post. It was all these beautiful pictures of her home. These before and after shots. How she restyled.

And all the while, I’m scrolling through the pictures thinking, “I’ll take your before please. Because your before is a thousand times better than my before. So your before can become my after.”

The thoughts took a few nasty slides off the road. “Well, yeah, when you have money to buy new things, restyling is easy.” “Even if you don’t have money, but you own some nice stuff, restyling is fun.” “All my stuff is old, out of date, beat up and scratched up, and holds a smell similar to a high school locker room.”

I closed the post and went back to my day.

So you don’t get comparison? Really?

A little while later, I scrolled through instagram. I heard these voices in my head saying, “You only posted that picture to show us how perfectly decorated your house is.”

I’m not lying. These thoughts went through my head. I’m ashamed. I’m embarrassed.

Still think you don’t struggle with comparison? 

That is when it hit me. My struggle with comparison decreased when I stopped scrolling through Pinterest and when I had no time for social media. I simply didn’t see things that I could hold up in comparison to my life.

Then I remembered to the days my littles were actually little. Before I was on social media. And I still had plenty of opportunities to compare myself to the next mom. It was how I assessed how I was doing. I never considered holding God’s Word as my measuring stick. That just seemed too….I don’t know, too… inconvenient.

When my boys were small, I invited a new friend over. I spent hours cleaning before she arrived with her children. Then I spent hours cleaning after they left. I felt exhausted, and I portrayed my home in the most unrealistic way to this new friend. Though I LOVE a clean house, I love spending time with my children more. Most of the time, my house just isn’t the kind of clean I love. But on that day, it was.

A few weeks later, she invited me to her house. It was a disaster. I could tell she didn’t lift a finger for our visit. It was just like my house was every day that I didn’t expect company to visit.

I felt these pangs of jealousy. She apologized for the state of chaos her home displayed, and I responded, “A messy home is a sign of a well-lived home. It’s the mark of a great mom.”

Even in that situation, I was comparing her home to my home, her role as mom to my role as mom. I was in my head saying she’s a better mom and woman because she is comfortable with her role as a get on the floor and play kind of mom and I felt the need to cover that up before her visit.

As I thought back on this, it made me realize that comparison goes in all directions. It goes up and down, left and right, inside and outside. It just makes no sense.

It’s a great tool of the enemy because it gets our focus off of God and our purposes. We become discontented, distracted, materialistic, jealous, greedy. All kinds of lovelies come from comparison.

And I can’t believe I had the audacity to believe that comparison is something I graduated from and matured out of.

I’m grateful the Lord has a sense of humor with me. That He will take me on these little roundabouts. Look, kids, Big Ben, Parliament. Around and around I go. He never stops speaking to me no matter how many trips I take around the same issue.

I’ve drawn my own personal conclusion. Like fear, comparison isn’t something we defeat once and for all. We will struggle in greater capacities in different seasons of life. It will go away for a time and revisit haven taken a new shape and form. Just like the enemy.

Knowing our weak points helps us guard our hearts from falling into the comparison trap. For me personally, I simply can’t be on Pinterest. I go on periodically and will pin away then I go away for stretches at a time. I go for what I am looking for, but I don’t spend time scrolling, creating images and wants and desires that foster growth of the comparison monster.

And the daily strengthening that comes only from His Word. Who does He say I am? And who is He? That is all that really matters. He’s made some for this and some for that. But He’s made us all to lavish with love and bring glory to His name.

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What I wish I’d known in my 20’s and as a newlywed

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“Mom, is it scary when you get married?”

“No, it should be very exciting. You’ve never seen a wedding have you?”

Until that moment, I forgot our boys had never watched our wedding video. Those videos now burrow into the depths of outdated dvd’s that seem to never see the light of day. Until snow storm Jonas arrived.

The boys grabbed their blankets and raced to the family room with anticipation. We popped the dvd in as silence filled the room and we held our breath awaiting the magic to unfold.

The intro music began. Steve broke the silence first, “Did we get married in like 1950 or something?”

My initial gasp exhaled into fits of laughter, “Oh my goodness! It looks so….so….old fashioned! And we thought we were so cool!” I mean the first clip looks like clip art wedding bands floating to a black background.

And the music selection for the video. Oh my stars. Really? Why did I pick such depressing music to play to our baby and childhood pictures? Did no one offer me any opinions??

It was fun listening to the boys giggle at our silly pictures and to watch their faces as they saw a part of us they’d never seen before. They know us as mom and dad and that is all. They don’t know us as goofball teenagers. When the picture flashed on the screen of Steve and me on a rent-a-junior spirit day at school and Steve was standing behind me as I’m dressed like a jock – jock strap and all- they bellowed, “Mom!!! I can’t believe you did that!”

But the depressing music selection. Goodness. Observation #1, I should’ve allowed more input and opinions in my wedding planning.

Steve and I both watched with emotions trapped in our chest and throat taking turns between kicking through to full blown tears and back again to tear glazed eyes. They’d flow then stop. Flow then stop. A few laughs here and there.

At a pause in laughter, Zachary said, “Mom, you sound like Princess Leia.”

“What!!” I don’t know what I said on the video that made him think that, but Zachary begins giggling in his best Leia voice, “You’re my only hope.”

Steve cued in instantly, “Yes, son, your mom thought I was her only hope.”

More laughing to break up the tears.

Then the moment that I heard my voice on tape. I shook my head. No. No I don’t. No I don’t sound like that. Did I? Did I really talk like that?

I knelt to my 3 year old nephew, now a freshmen in college, and said, “Kiss me on my (pronouced with the southern version of the long I sound) nose (turned from a one syllable into a 2 syllable word).”

“Mom! Listen to you. You sound so. Country. You don’t sound like yourself at all.”

My first boss taught me a lot of life lessons. I still think back on those lessons. I think I’ll share them soon. One of the first lessons he taught me is to change the way I talked. “Renee, clients will mistake a country/southern accent for unintelligence.” I’m a fast learner. I knew this was his way of saying, “Drop the country sound so our clients will take you seriously and know you are actually quite bright.”

I worked hard on it. So hard that I’d erased it from my memory completely. Until I heard it.

So many reflections on that day and season of our lives over 15 years ago. So much I wish I’d known at 24 that I now know at 39. So much I wish I could tell every young 20 something embarking on this new phase of life.

  • At 24 and 25, we thought we knew it all. We thought we had the world figured out. We thought we were incredibly wise in many respects. At 39 I look back and think what a baby I was at 24, at a time I thought I had reached maturity and adulthood. I had a fantastic job that paid extremely well right out of school. I’d passed the CPA exam. I was marrying the love of my life. We had amazing family and friend support. For that moment in time, life appeared perfect. In hindsight, I see how naive we both were, and I believe that is actually a gift. I wish I had known that we had only begun the process of maturing into adulthood and that we hadn’t actually arrived yet. I thought marriage was arriving. It only began.
  • We received gifts at our rehearsal that we failed to open and embrace at the time.  When Jacob was 3 months old, my dad bought him a Red Ryder BB gun. We laughed at the time that our 3 month old had a gun. We held onto it for him. At 12, he treasures his gun. It was a gift given by a special person in his life, but he couldn’t appreciate it at the time he received it. At the rehearsal dinner many stood up and offered words of love, encouragement, and support. Hearing those words 15 years later spoken about us was like finally growing up to be able to hold and use that special gift we weren’t quite big enough to handle when we first received it. Words hold life giving power. Use them wisely. Use them to breathe hope and encouragement. Use them to create in someone what may only be a glimmer right now. Look for the good and speak it into their lives. I wish I had seen the gift of those words that night and continued to open them through the years to receive that gift repeatedly. Those words held shaping powers.
  • We failed to give gifts in our power to give. After our friends and family offered toasts, Steve and I each took a turn sharing some words. I braced myself as I watched this scene on video, my soul inching to the edge of my seat. I just knew the words would flow like wisdom from our mouths, cascading refreshment and love all over our loved ones. Ummm. That didn’t happen. We each said a lot of nothing. We said words, but the words made no sense. Ok, maybe there were nerves at play. But really? Why didn’t we prepare ahead of time? Why didn’t we realize that our wedding was more than all about us? Why didn’t we bless our parents? Or our friends? Words are blessings. We had the opportunity to bless, yet we didn’t. Our focus was on ourselves and the excitement of that weekend and we missed an opportunity to pour out blessings. I wish I had prepared heartfelt words to give as gifts to my family, to Steve’s family, to our friends. Real words, not filler words. Life-giving, heart shaping words.
  • We had the most christian appearing services, yet were as lost as two souls could be. All these years we have shared with the boys how we didn’t grow up as followers of Christ, and how thankful we are for the gift of our salvation from a God that chased us down our entire lives. Yet to watch our service, you would never know we weren’t followers of Christ.
    • The songs played, the words spoken, the covenant made with God, the prayers. I have so many reflections on this. We met with the pastor prior to him marrying us. It was a pastor from a nearby church because we didn’t go to church, we didn’t have our own pastor or our own church home. But we knew it was only proper and right to be married in a church by a pastor. This pastor I’m certain knew within 2 minutes we weren’t believers. He could have turned us away. He could have told us he could not marry us because we weren’t saved. He could have embarrassed us. He could have done a lot of things he didn’t do. He didn’t play along with us. In other words, he didn’t make us think we were saved when we knew we weren’t. But he showed us respect, kindness, and grace. I’m convinced that he prayed for us and believe that his prayers for our marriage were pivotal in us coming to Christ within months of marriage. I watched our ceremony and listened to the prayer he prayed for us and thought, “What if that was the moment that everything shifted?”
  • That look in my eyes for Steve I thought would always look just that way. The thing both Steve and I noticed in that video is the excitement in my eyes. The way I looked at Steve, with such deep love, really looking into his eyes and staying there. I had eyes only for him. I remember saying to Steve right before we got married how I bet we loved each other more than anyone else in the whole world. I just didn’t think it was possible for any woman to love her husband more than I loved Steve. Just wasn’t possible.
    • I wish I had been more intentional with how I communicated with my eyes to him over the years. I didn’t realize that when we began having kids everything really changed. I didn’t have as much time to gaze into his eyes. And I was covered in spit up and didn’t want to gaze into his eyes and hear about his day. I wanted to hand over the baby and run away and cry by myself. Then a 2nd baby. Then a 3rd. Then financial decisions. And the weights of life increased and with each new weight we took on just seemed to make it that much harder to remember the magic that was there in the beginning. BUT.
    • It’s actually better now because of all the things that made some seasons hard. Those are actually the very things that have strengthened our marriage, our commitment to each other, and our love and respect for each other. I wish I had watched our wedding video more often through the years, to remember that what we so easily showed is still there only greater, we just need to remember to lavish each other with it.

And a few more insights:

  • Time moves fast. So fast that a video we thought was super hip and cool now looks like it was filmed when my mom was born. While seasons shift and time races, God’s truth remains timeless. Wedding styles change. Bridesmaid dresses end up at Goodwill. New adventures take shape that make life take a new twist. But His Word stays true. His promises never change. The blessings from a marriage that puts Him front and center- nothing can come close in comparison. That will never change.
  • Regrets are useless in my opinion. That list above, it’s not a list of regrets I am dwelling on. Instead, I see gifts hidden all through that list. I see opportunities to share deeper insights with our children, to be intentional blessings to loved ones, to make eternal impacts in the lives of others. Looking back and seeing what we wish we had known doesn’t make me wish I could go back and do it all over again. I know the path God has placed us on has been perfect and He uses ALL  things for our good. It makes me grateful for growth, change, and opportunities.
  • Each day is a new day for fresh hope and change. Sometimes it comes so gradually we don’t even see it happening. Like the fact that I talked like I was raised in the deep south my entire life and somehow have dropped the long vowel south. I was changing and didn’t even know it. God is always changing us, even when we don’t see the change. He is always molding and shaping us more into His likeness every day. May we ask Him to make us like putty in His hands.
  • We are growing up more and more each day. Wisdom is a gift from God. I thought I had it at 24. I’m grateful He’s given a little more with each passing year and pray He will continue to give even more. It’s a timeless gift and invaluable in marriage.

The sweetest moment came when one of our boys said, “I loved watching that video. I see you and dad in a whole new way. It’s neat to see you in a time before you were a mom and a dad.” A glimmer of newness in those eyes.

Fresh hope, new opportunities, and grace are around every corner. Sometimes it takes looking back to receive the reminders we need today.

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The day I noticed my son becoming a man

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Dear Jacob,

I saw the man in you emerging this weekend. Little ways you wouldn’t see. Not the growth of facial hair, not a deeper voice or longer legs. Where I saw the man in you is what truly makes a man a man – in my opinion.

It’s rare to see a true gentleman these days. Maybe they are afraid of offending a woman who feels she doesn’t need a man. I’ve never felt that way. I’ve always been grateful for the chivalry of a man, the strength of a man who looks out for the women around him.

The last time I took a flight by myself, I struggled to get my baggage in the overhead. Men sat all around me. Not one stood up to help me. My initial thought went to your dad. He would never sit in his seat while a woman struggled with her bag. He would be out of his seat in nanoseconds taking the weight off her hands and coming to her aid. It’s one of the things I love about your dad that makes him a real man.

Your dad was stranded in Dallas while we found ourselves snowed in. This is when I saw the man in you really begin to emerge.

I saw what you were doing out of the corner of my eye. I saw you go to each door of the house. You checked the locks. You checked the deadbolts. Then you pulled the door to make double sure. You walked by the security system making sure it was armed.

A man protects. He looks out for the safety of those around him. He steps up to that role when the need arises. 

You didn’t think I noticed, but I did.

After 2 days of snow covering the car, you started the car for me to warm it. You came inside and went about what you were doing. After some time, I went outside to begin scraping the ice from the windshield. I had only begun when I heard you say, “Mom, I’ve got this. Let me have it.”

You gave it all you had. Scraping as best you could. I’m sorry I stood over your shoulder critiquing your work. In hindsight, I wish I had simply said thank you and walked away.

Instead, I told you to do it this way or that way. Be careful you don’t scratch the car. Watch out for that big block of ice. At one point you said, “Mom, I don’t really hear you.” I couldn’t help chuckle because how often have I stood over your dad offering him a better way to do something. I’m sure he tunes me out to stay focused on the task.

You are just beginning, and you haven’t gained your confidence yet. After one too many suggestions, you handed the scraper back to me for fear of failing in the job. For that, I’m truly sorry. I was wrong. My way isn’t always right. And even in that you showed the man in you emerging.

A real man is clothed in humility. He is humble and doesn’t allow pride to demand its way is the right way. The way you handled that situation allowed me to see how I was wrong. Had you defended yourself and argued me, I may have never realized what I’d done wrong. Thank you for letting your humility come before pride.

4 days snowed in with 3 boys was tough. The energy, the noise. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it can be a bit much to bear at times. You saw my tension. You tried your best to step in and help me without being asked. Taking on extra chores. Asking me what needed to get done. These are all signs of the man in you growing up. But there was something else.

At times you wanted to help, but you realized there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t stop the arguing of caged up boys. You couldn’t change the attitudes that seemed to be contagious. Some things you just can’t fix. But you did something better than fix my circumstances. You gave me hugs. Lots of hugs.

Each time you saw the stress on my face or heard the tension in my voice, you came and offered me a hug. “Mom, you need a hug.” And I did. And it was the very thing that made all things better right there in that moment.

A real man knows he can’t fix everything. And when he can’t fix it, he can do the next best thing. He can simply give a hug. Sometimes a hug is the thing that makes everything alright that can’t be fixed. A hug makes the unfixable tolerable, even beautiful.

A few things I believe make a man truly a man:

Humility

Honor

Integrity

Protector

Comforter

You are these and more. I am grateful for the gift of watching you begin the process of becoming a man. It’s the process that continues your entire life. Some men are 40 years old and still haven’t become real men. Age doesn’t determine manhood.

Keep your eyes on your Heavenly Father. He will show you all you need to know about how to become a real man.

With all my love,

Mom

 

 

 

The book you have to read

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We are a reading family. I love books. In fact, the shirt I sleep in most nights reads “I love books”. It’s really cool I promise.

I’m picky about what I read though. I’ll admit to judging a book by its cover. And if the book doesn’t grip me in the first chapter, I’ll likely toss it aside. I have no problem quitting a book midway through. Life is too short and books are too many to read boring stories.

When I love something I can’t help but tell everyone about it. If Zachary is with me when I get going he inevitably says, “Here she goes in commercial mode.”

I can’t do this for my own book, but I can do it for anything someone else wrote.

One of my 2016 goals is to read more books. In order to do this, I’m reading more out loud to my children. I rarely sit down to read for pleasure when they are awake. I reserve this for bed, but about 1 page in I feel the shades being drawn on my eyes. At that reading pace it takes months to finish a book.

2016 started out with me reading 2 family books aloud and 1 for myself.

I have to share with you my very favorite book at the moment.

At Christmas my friend stopped by, handed me this book with a big “Merry Christmas. Next to the Bible this book has impacted me more than any other book. And the whole family will love it.”

No better sales pitch could she give me. I was sold. And the book was free. Double win.

Now that I’ve read this book, I’d pay 3 times the retail price for it. I would give it to everyone I know. It’s simply that good. I do believe it is my all time favorite.

I read christian living books ALL. THE. TIME. This one is different. Really different.

The author isn’t lecturing to me. I don’t feel guilty and like I’ve messed up and need to change everything in my life immediately. I laugh. Hard laughing (and if you know me, you know I really need to laugh more….I’m just that serious). It’s stories – not just any stories. HILARIOUS stories. Wild stories. Stories that my boys say, “No way! No way!” It’s inspiring. The message is clear in each chapter. A love for God becomes something you do. Love isn’t a feeling. Love is an action. Love is a verb. Love Does.

I simply love a good story. Love Does is story after story. Woven together they tell the same message. But the stories are so wildly different that the book doesn’t get old. Many other christian living books about the mid point I feel the author is now beating me over the head with the same message. I want to scream, “I get it! I get it!” About mid-book, I feel I get the point, and the book finds its home on the bookshelf.

Get this book. Don’t get it at the library. It’s one you will want to keep.

And listen, there is one chapter that my boys have asked me to read over and over again. When you read the book, you will quickly know which chapter I’m referring to. Remember I have boys.

Oh! And Bob Goff donated 100% of the sales of Love Does to Restore International and The Mentoring Project. Love it!!

Here’s some other great reads from 2016 so far. Bridge to Terabithia. I read this to Jacob and Zachary. Great story on friendship. The writing style my boys highly appreciated. Zachary in particular loved the author’s descriptions which drew a clear picture in his mind. Andrew did not take part in this book. He wouldn’t understand it. And there were some language choices I could’ve done without.

Be warned, you will cry an ugly cry. I read the final chapters over two nights. Steve came home during night one and found me sobbing on the couch. Night two was worse. Ugly. Ugly cries. Consider yourself warned, my friends.

Now the book I’m almost done with and love is by Lynn Austin. I love her. I’m reading Hidden Places. So good. The thing with Lynn Austin’s books is that by the end, I feel I know the characters so well that I feel I’ve lost good friends when the story ends. The book is so good, I’m able to stay awake beyond my normal 1-2 pages a night. In fact, Steve is quite surprised to find he will fall asleep and wake up some time later because my reading light is still on.

If you are wanting a really great series Lynn Austin has my all time favorite series Chronicles of the Kings. Check out the first book here.

Ok, so it’s not too late to set some 2016 goals. Read more. Read more with your kiddos. Such time well spent. Who doesn’t need a good story these days?

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Happy Reading!

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On Raising A Modern Day David

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“Mommy, I’m really starting to read.”

I nodded keeping my finger on the page to track the words for him that his eyes struggle to track.

“Mommy, I really am. But all my friends can read all kinds of books.”

“Mommy, will I looooove to read? Because I think I will love it so much.”

My heart aches a different kind of ache now. When I first realized learning was difficult for this child, I just wanted it to be easy. I’ve shared that before. My heart physically ached for him to simply read like other kids. But God has changed me. He’s given me a different vision now.

“Andrew, you will loooooove to read. You will love it so much. And you know what? You will love it even more than some of your friends who learned early how to read because you’ve had to struggle and work hard. Sometimes when we have to work super hard at something, we appreciate it more. It just means more to us.”

It’s a gift, Lord. Thank you for this gift. 

He has a gift. He thinks outside the box. I like that. I’m an in the box kind of thinker most days. Andrew shows me things I’ve never seen.

One of Andrew’s teachers told me about a Focus on the Family broadcast that made her think of Andrew. I listened to it then went out and got the audiobook. It was Malcolm Gladwell’s David and Goliath.

It was interesting to hear a different perspective of David, one that didn’t take away the magnitude of who God used or what He did. He explained how we look at David as this little shepherd boy with a toy sling shot that took down a giant. But he showed a different way to look at this.

A young boy who thought differently. A young boy who knew that Goliath was expecting him to fight the way Goliath fought. But David knew his strengths. He knew he was accurate with a slingshot. He couldn’t take on a giant using the warfare the giant would use. He’d have to come from another angle. He had to think outside the box.

David was fast and precise. He was calculated and on-point. He was bold and courageous because He knew who held the battle. He knew who was on his side. But he was smart. A different kind of smart. A smart that didn’t think like everyone around him.

Remember the reaction he received when he stepped forward to take on the giant? Remember how Saul tried to suit him in his armor…the typical route. It didn’t take David long to realize that wasn’t the best option. He went at Goliath in a way Goliath never imagined.

After I listened to this telling in Gladwell’s book, I had a whole new appreciation for young David. I’ve always prayed for my boys to have hearts like David’s and spirits like Caleb’s. Hearing this story told from a completely different perspective made me more resolved than ever to pray for this kind of heart in my boys. And to relish in the fact that Andrew is a different thinker.

We sat at the breakfast table. Andrew sipped from his shake, lifted his eyes to meet mine. “Mommy, next time I go hunting, I’m going to do it a different way than Paw-Paw does it.”

Curiousity piqued. How else does one hunt for deer than how it’s been done for ages?

“How will you do it?”

“Paw-Paw sits real still and waits for the deer to come close to him and then he shoots them. I will come up from behind the deer and sack ’em.”

“You will sack the deer? Like you would sack a quarterback?”

100% confident, he nodded his head and returned to his shake.

Who knows, maybe it will work? I don’t think so, but I’m an in-the-box kind of thinker. Andrew isn’t limited like that. It might take a while to learn to read, to learn math facts, to understand difficult concepts. But he’s got one thing down. He knows how to think up new ideas and he has so much belief in a big God and himself in God’s plan that I don’t doubt he could actually be the first little boy in history to sack a deer.

“But you know, Mommy, deers can hear really good. So I have to be extra sneaky when I sack ’em.”

“Yes, you do, sweetie. I can’t wait to mount the first deer you sack.”

Praise God for His creativity seen in each child He’s created.

Lord, may I never stop seeing your awesome work in my children. May I be awestruck all the time. May I never doubt that you can do the impossible through your children. We praise you, Lord. We praise you.

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Dear Boys, Why I Can’t Rescue You From Your Problems

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Psalm 92:12 “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree.”

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Dear Boys,

When you were little, you would boldly start to climb up the playground ladder. Then you would get to a scary point, look back, and cry out, “Mommy, help.” I’d usually stand under that ladder, smile back at you and say, “You can do it. Go ahead. Reach for the next step and stretch your legs.”

Your chubby little legs would quiver as you looked back at me with question and fear. But then you would turn back to the ladder, stretch your legs, and reach for the next step. When you came zipping down that slide, wisps of hair flapping in the wind, the look of joy on your face was pure gold to me.

The next time you approached that ladder, you approached with a bold confidence. Each time you conquered the ladder gave you a little more reason to puff your chest. “I did it. I did it, mommy!”

“Yes, you did it all by yourself.”

Sometimes you fell from the ladder. Sometimes you would slip a touch. Sometimes you scaled with ease. Each time your confidence grew. You realized that when you pushed through, you could do more on your own than you realized.

Boys, though you are bigger, the principle still applies. And it will apply for life. Except one thing I want to add. Do nothing on your own. Do all through the strength of God.

Fail. Fall. Disappoint us. You have our permission. It’s how you will learn and become stronger.

I’ve written to you before on why we want you to fail. It’s important.

Dad and I will not come to your rescue as you learn to navigate life. We will be here to cheer you on, to encourage you, to dust the dirt from your back, to wipe the tears. But we won’t rescue you. We won’t save you from failing. We won’t save you from your mistakes.

But we aren’t standing over you saying, “You should’ve known better.” or “How dare you.” or “I can’t believe you did that.” You will be tempted to think that is what we are thinking, but hear us. We are looking on you with pride and compassion. We love your hearts. We love your drives. We love your determination. We love your strong wills. We love your faith. But you aren’t perfect. You weren’t created as miniature adults. We are learning life. You are learning from your mistakes. Be free to fall down and fail. Just get back up and try again.

When you ask me to sit with you while you work on homework and I tell you no, I’m not being mean. It’s because I believe in you. And I think you earning a C from struggling through the work on your own is far better than the A you could receive if I work on your homework with you. What good is a grade if you didn’t earn it? And don’t you value something more when you have poured your own sweat into it?

When you were little and you completed your first Lego set unassisted, you were far more proud than all the years we built sets together. When you push through and conquer on your own (with God fueling the fire) you will be better for it in the long run.

The other day one of you complained about a physical ailment. I heard your moaning and your cries. How you wish God would just take it away from you forever. In essence, you want to be rescued from the pain. While I just said Dad and I won’t rescue you from your failures, choices, and mistakes, when we see you in pain everything in us wants to rescue you. And I believe that God cries with us in our pains.

I heard you say, “Why me? Why of all people on the earth do I have to suffer with this?”

My response to you was, “Why do you feel you don’t deserve it and someone else does? Why do you think ‘why me’? Why not you? And have you ever considered how God shapes us through the pains, the trials, the mess ups, the failures? This is when we get strong.”

Hardships make us strong. Failures grow us.  This is true when we rely on the Lord through the trials and tough times in life.

I want to share a cool fact with you. If you plant a tree, and the tree is never exposed to wind, it becomes a weak tree. It never develops strong roots. If while that tree is maturing, it is protected and sheltered from wind, then it grows up and the shelter is gone and a strong wind comes, the tree is so weak, it can fall right over.

The stronger and harder the wind, the stronger the tree becomes over time.

Palm trees are incredibly strong. They are faced with hurricane winds. During the storm, they bend sometimes almost to the ground. But when the storm is over, they are returned to their original shape. Not only that, their roots grew stronger because of the storm.

Dad and I want you to be strong in the Lord. If we rescue you in your growing years, we will not allow you to draw your true strength found only in God.

When it’s Sunday night and you realize you forgot to do your homework and we tell you, “Sorry, you had all weekend to get that done,” we aren’t being mean to you. We are allowing you to make choices that have consequences and allowing you to weather the storm that it brings. We don’t love you less. We empathize. We understand. We are behind you each step. But we won’t rescue you from the storms.

You were created for the storms. The storms will make you strong and bold, with roots that will hold you steadfast.

So, boys, go for it. Give it all you’ve got. Don’t be afraid to climb higher. Don’t be afraid to let go and reach for the next step. You might fall. You might slip. Just get back up and do it again. Each step of the way, look to your Heavenly Father. Ask Him for strength, wisdom, and guidance. He will teach you and hold you through the very storms that grow you stronger.

With all my love,

Mom

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