Breathe Deep

As his body squirms down into the soft fold of white sheets, his arm comes up to form a hook that fits perfectly around my neck, pulling me down into his bed next to him.  The way his arm hooks around my neck gently pulls my face directly into the side of his.  I breathe deep of him, while my lips graze his perfectly smooth skin.  I can’t breathe deep enough, so I take repeated breaths, wanting to store it away, bottle it up for the day that smell is no more.  The day he won’t need me to tuck him in.

And then I listen.  To the sounds that will disappear one day.  The crook of his arm still securing our faces together, he uses his other hand to hold onto his Boppy, his beloved security blanket, while he sucks his thumb.  And he breathes deep.  Mimicking my sounds.

It has become a moment we share each and every time I tuck his sweet little boy body into bed.  Some may say I’m spoiling him because he is the baby, our last.  I’m ok with that.  I am in fact spoiling him.  I’m spoiling him with my love.  Cherishing the gift that God has given me.

During these moments, I pray.  Sometimes silently, sometimes so he can hear me.

His reach is for more than my physical touch.  It’s for security, comfort, and love.  He wants to feel me as close to him as he possibly can.  We long for the same thing from our Heavenly Father.  I am eager to provide him exactly what he needs.  Just as our Father is.  I will make him feel safe in his bed.  I will comfort him when he is frightened.  I will shower him with kisses and hugs to show him my love.  Just like our Father will for us.

I can only imagine how our Father desires to lavish His love on us.  How He is breathing deeply of us, desiring that we breathe deeply of Him.  Because when we breathe deeply of Him, we will be filled with more comfort than we’ve ever experienced, more peace than we’ve ever dreamed, more joy than we thought possible, more love than we are capable of showing, and more power than we possess on our own.

Breathe deep of His love.  Let Him fill you with more than you ever dreamed.

 Zephaniah 3:17

“The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

Killer Moments or Moment Killers?

With little warning, it happens in an instant.  Like a hawk who swoops down upon his prey before the prey ever realized he was in danger.  The moment comes, the moment is killed, the moment is gone.  What is left behind when the dust settles?

One child woke for the day happy and ready to start the day.  Another child woke and was determined to make my morning miserable, or at least that was my perspective.  And still another child woke simply grumpy.

Each whine, moan, grumble, and complaint sent my blood pressure rising.  At last, rest/nap time arrived.  I had looked forward to this all day as  I was in desperate need of some quiet.  The day had sapped me of all physical and emotional energy.  I was longing for a block of time of total silence and a 10 minute power nap.  No interruptions.

God interrupts.

Sometimes we don’t see God as the source of the interruption when it comes dressed in the disguise of our children.  I pray God will clear my vision to see my child’s interruption as His interruption.  For a good purpose.

Just as I settled the last child into his room for some quiet, a loud clap of thunder shook the house.  My perfect napping weather.  I needed this nap.  Steve was traveling, I was exhausted.  I would be a better mom given a few minutes of shut-eye.  I. I. I.

I quickly closed the curtains, turned the fan on high, snuggled deep into the covers and had just begun to drift into a sweet, peaceful sleep when I began to dream a soft, “Mom…Mom….Mom…Mom”  It couldn’t be.  Certainly, none of my boys would interrupt the 10 minute nap I had previously warned them I would be taking.  They knew better.  I slowly peeked one eye open and was shocked to see my son staring back at me.

I shot straight up.  Before I had time to think straight, words began spewing from my mouth.  Words that caused an instant change in his expression and sent him sulking up the stairs.

I closed my eyes, but sleep would be impossible.  The Holy Spirit was whispering too loud.  Urging me to make this right.  So I began to plead my case to God.  “I deserve a few minutes to myself.  It’s not fair.  I give all day long, can’t they give me 10 minutes.  Why can’t I get some quiet.  EVER.”  The more I argued, the heavier my heart became.  I lay in my napping spot in complete misery.  I knew there was only one remedy.

I marched upstairs.  But before I could make it right, I just had to state my case. (Pride is heinously ugly)

After stating my case, I felt the tension rush from my body as my shoulders relaxed.  “So why did you wake me up?”

“To tell you that my loose tooth just popped.  I was excited and I wanted you to see it.”

He wanted to share a moment with me.  And I killed it.  Sadness flooded my heart.

Zachary had ruined my nap.  But for a good reason.  To share a moment with me.  I had ruined a moment.  I killed it.

To further state his own case, he ended with, “We just like being with you.  That’s all.”

My head dropped as I took in what he said.  How could he possibly enjoy being with such a selfish person who so quickly lost it when she realized she wasn’t getting her own way?  I met his eyes, “I’m so sorry.  I’m so very, very sorry.  I mess up every single day.  I’m thankful for Christ’s forgiveness.  Will you forgive me?”

“Yes.”  There was no hesitation.

Moments are not just the planned experiences.  The pool days, the ice cream shop trips, the movie days.  The moments in the heat of battle are moments too.  Those moments often are the ones that leave the biggest marks.

I want to create killer moments not moment killers.  I’m grateful God opened my eyes to see the difference.


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A Hug From God

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. —2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The morning routine was in full swing when he made his appearance at the breakfast table later than the rest of us.  I greeted him the way I do every morning.  “Well, good morning, sunshine!”

Moving ever so slowly, his head hung low, his eyes remained focused on the floor.  “Hi.”

The mood around the table instantly changed.  Breakfast was quieter than what is normal for a house of 3 boys.

Breakfast wrapped up, dishes were cleared, and chores were under way.  He continued moving among us, quietly, slowly.  So uncharacteristic for this spunky, lively child.  As I switched over the laundry and wiped the bathroom sink of the evidence of teeth brushing, I hollered to him, “Hey, Zachary, everything ok?”

Without raising his eyes to look at me, he continued walking down the hall, those shoulders lower than I’ve seen in a while.  His voice so low, I had to strain to hear him over the other boys lost in their own worlds of getting dressed and making beds.  “Yes, I’m fine.”

I put down the washcloth, knelt down in front of him, grabbed hold of his shoulders, and raised his chin so my eyes could see his beautiful blues.  “Hey, do you just need a hug?”


As I wrapped my arms tightly around his 6-year-old body, I felt his rigid arms soften as he leaned into me allowing me to hug him and fill him with what he needed.  He just needed a hug.  He couldn’t even identify why he felt sad or what was plaguing him.  He just knew he needed to feel loving arms around him.

We need to feel the arms of our Heavenly Father.  God desires to wrap His arms around us.  He is always waiting.  He will never fail us.  He is forever faithful.  His arms give the best hugs because He is the creator of hugging arms.  He is our Comforter.

Receive God’s hug today.  Then give your child, grandchild, or other loved one a hug.  The bigger they are, the more they need a hug.  Share the love of God with them today.

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Baby Biscuits

A lazy Saturday morning.  Nowhere to be, no time we must leave.  Just a lazy Saturday morning.  Sort of like I remember Saturday mornings as a kid.  This particular day was the perfect day for homemade pancakes and bacon.

Steve and Jacob went to Home Depot to gather supplies for a Saturday project.  Zachary and Andrew were slowly moving about the house.  And I was happily mixing batter relishing in the fact that I could move as slowly as I wanted.  Because we had nowhere to be.

The smell of bacon was making its way through the house, the oven fan hummed a consistent tune, and I listened and waited patiently as the cast iron griddle heated to the point of sounding off soft pops of oil.  I filled the measuring cup to pour the perfect sized pancake and quickly moved my hand over the griddle trying my best to keep all the batter on the pan.  Before I had the chance to pour the batter, a small dollop escaped the cup onto the pan.  I had already poured out the remainder of the cup onto the griddle when I realized this small circle of batter on the edge of the pan.

The slow invites the moments in, it welcomes the memories home.  The moments, the memories, they want to be cherished, remembered.  Not rushed past.

A memory was triggered.  The slow allowed me to relish in it. 

I was transported back to when I was a little girl and my mom would bring out a steaming hot batch of homemade biscuits.  My mom, hands down, makes the best biscuits I’ve ever tasted.  She was taught by my great-grandmother and my grandmother.  Sadly, I’ve tried and tried but can’t make biscuits like my mom can.  Maybe that’s the way it should be.  Maybe they should just be “Nanny’s biscuits” to my boys.  Something unique and special to her that they only get from her.  

There I sat, hair pulled in pig tails, with my eyes fixed on the plate being placed in the center of the table.  My eyes were searching for one thing and one thing only.  The baby biscuit.  It was always there.  Waiting for me.  Well, actually there were 2, one for me and one for my sister.  But I was searching for my baby biscuit. 

The baby biscuit was special.  It was tiny, drastically different from every other biscuit on the plate.  Extra thought was given to which biscuit would become my biscuit.  That small act, repeated time after time after time, took no extra effort on the part of my mom.  The message that penetrated to my heart was one of love.  To me, she took the extra step to show me she loved me and cared enough to do a little something special.

The baby biscuits never really ended either.  Weekends home from college, I still was given a baby biscuit.  In my mom’s eyes, I would always be her little girl wanting her mom’s baby biscuit.  It had become a tradition, and traditions are meant to be passed down.  If you visit my mom’s house, she has a picture frame with each of her grandbabies eating their very own baby biscuit.

Jacob and Zachary 2006

While the nostalgia was flooding me, pancakes began stacking high on the plate.  Boys began wandering in questioning how much longer they must be tortured by the smells they couldn’t escape.  Jokingly, I handed Andrew the “mistake” pancake.  The baby pancake.  I expected him to moan and complain that it was too little and he wanted a bigger one.  Instead, his little eyes lit up at his “special” pancake.

It’s true what they say, it really is the little things that count.  The little moments, the little traditions, the little memories, the little biscuits, and the little pancakes.  It’s the little things.  The little things make big impressions.

Traditions don’t have to be monumental events.  Sometimes the most heartwarming of traditions come in the smallest packages.  Like that of a baby biscuit.

Money Moments

One of my hopes is to create as many moments with my children as I possibly can.  Moments will come in all different shapes and sizes.  Some moments are spontaneous, fleeting, or purely for fun.  Other moments will be more monumental and even life changing.  And still other moments provide opportunities for life lessons to be imparted to our children.

As parents we have a responsibility to train our children to be wise stewards of the finances the Lord blesses them with.   Our children will have years of watching how responsible we are with our money, but we can begin as early as the toddler years to train and instill important financial principles they won’t receive simply from watching us in the early years.

When my boys were four, two, and not yet born, I attended a homeschool conference where I discovered what I believe is the greatest tool for training our kids in how to handle their finances.  We bought the Dave Ramsey Kid’s Super Pack.  Still to this very day, these are my boys very favorite books.  We’ve been reading them for almost 5 years now and they have never tired of them.  Not only are they entertaining and humorous (particularly the illustrations), but they are feeding fundamental values into the minds of my boys.  Yes, they are learning how to be wise with money, but they are also learning character values.  What does it mean to have integrity? What does it mean to share our finances with those in need?  What does it mean to delay gratification and work hard for something?

The set also includes chore charts, reward stickers, and a parents training guide.  In addition, it comes with envelopes designated Give, Save, and Spend.  I love to watch the boys dividing  up their money among the different envelopes.  I love to see them understanding the value of saving and giving.  I love to see the hard lessons they’ve learned when they’ve emptied their spend envelope on something they quickly realized was a waste of money and to watch them understanding the time it takes to fill that envelope back up.

On numerous occasions we’ve used the examples and principles in these books to remind the boys of how to make the right choice when opportunities presented themselves.  One of their favorites from the collection is Careless at the Carnival.  I can’t tell you how many times we have used that book to point them back to the lesson at hand.

This summer we’ve spent a good deal of time in the money training arena.  Each week they have had the opportunity to earn an allowance based on chores done around the house (if the chores were done completely with no complaining).  Steve has provided “special” jobs where they could earn extra.  And they set up a 4 day run of a lemonade stand.  While some disagree with providing an allowance based on chores that benefit the entire family, we view it as an opportunity to impart life lessons for how the real world works.  We explain that we are not paying them to help around the house.  We help each other because we are a family unit and we help each other carry our loads.  However, we are willing to pay an allowance in order to teach the lessons of hard work and earning money.  There have even been times where chores haven’t been completed satisfactorily, and I’ve deducted money from the allowance explaining that when you are an adult your employer will not pay you for a poorly completed job.  We want them to be hard workers, but let’s face it, money is the true motivator for anyone who is working a full-time job.  It’s just a necessity of life.  So why shouldn’t we allow our children to be motivated by what will ultimately be their motivator while providing them the guidance and training while we can.

Each of the boys has a savings account set up to save for a car one day.  Periodically, we will take a trip to the bank with their Save envelopes to make a deposit.  The boys have so much fun on these trips because the tellers and the manager make such a fuss with them and really make it a rewarding experience.  They patiently count out all the coins and crumpled up bills.  I watch their little minds trying to understand how the process works.  “Why are we giving them our money?  Oh yeah, they keep it safe for us!”  Of course, the best part is the sucker at the end.  Who knew a bank field trip could be so fun?

Through these experiences they are able to feel the satisfaction of working hard, saving their money, and putting it away for the future.  At the same time they are experiencing the joy that comes from sharing their money in the Give envelope.  And of course they are loving spending what accumulates in the Spend envelope .

This set really provides such powerful tools to enable parents to train their children wisely in money management.  You can also buy the audio CD set or downloads now.  I just ordered the audio cd set since we spend a good deal of time in the car, and our boys loving listening to books on CD.

Can you tell I’m a huge fan?  And, no, I receive no commissions based on sales generated from this post 🙂

Shreds of Life

Beloved security blanket, Boppy, passed down from Jacob to Andrew.  Boppy has provided a constant source of comfort, security, and love to two of my children.

Boppy has stories to tell.  Stories of skinned knees and hurt feelings, failures and victories, dark, frightened nights and the comfort of dawn.  Birthday candles blown out, first days of preschool, learning to ride a bike, learning to go potty.  Boppy has wiped away tears and soaked up the laughter.  Experiences shared together.  Moments abounded.  Together.  Bonded.

As moments are created, something is left behind.  A piece of something bigger.

A memory engraved into the heart and mind.  A memory that will create a bond.

Life is lived, seasons pass, all the while, we are evolving, changing, growing.  The change is gradual, almost undetected on a day-to-day basis.

Until one day we pause to take note.  Suddenly, we see the beauty that has emerged.

The beauty of a life lived fully, intensely giving and receiving love.

And when they outgrow their Boppy, they still need a Boppy.  One that leaves a shred behind every single day.  Yet is held together by those knotted shreds  One that is always there when they need us.  One that will change with them as they change, yet loving them unconditionally, never changing that.  One that is irreplaceable.

When they receive this from us, they are more able to receive it from the One who created them to begin with.  The One whose love is unchanging.  The one who brings the dawn to light up their scary nights.  The One who wipes away their tears.  The One who rejoices in their triumphs and cries with them in their failures.  The One whose shreds will never disappear.

How technology can threaten our moments

In 2008 we moved from Atlanta to Virginia.  Talk about a culture change.  Fast-paced city life to tractor-speed rural life.  Time slowed.  Drastically.  My friends back home were shocked at how quickly I embraced our new life.  One of the primary reasons I fell in love with Virginia was that for the first time I could so clearly see my beautiful life.  I was truly enjoying the moments.  Time seemed to move slower because people didn’t rush to and fro.  Fewer distractions seemed to exist.

I’ll never forget a conversation I had with a friend 2 weeks into the move.  I was telling her that I had noticed something in VA that I had never seen before.  Parents were at the park actually playing with their kids.  No moms on cell phones!  In fact, my first friend in VA actually shared a cell phone with her husband.  I didn’t know people still did that.  But when I was with her, I felt she actually genuinely was connecting with me….and her kids.

Reading the following article was a great reminder of why for our children’s sake we need to lose the distractions, especially the phones.  If we don’t lose the distractions, we will surely lose the moments.


The following article is from

Why Cell Phones Are Bad for Parenting

Our children will always know whether they have our full attention. It’s time for parents to break the phone habit before it’s too late
By Dominique Browning | @Slowlovelife | May 17, 2012 | 51

Sally Anscombe / Getty Images

Sally Anscombe / Getty Images

Browning’s latest book is Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put On My Pajamas and Found Happiness

There was something to be said for the old-fashioned landline, with a handset so bulky, you had to tuck it between your neck and shoulder to get your hands free. They didn’t — couldn’t — go everywhere with us. Now we’re tethered to our mobiles — addicted, even. They’ve become handy tools for avoidance, and it’s our children who are getting the bad end of the deal.

All around me, I see parents with their babies and toddlers and young kids — but not with them. The grownups are on the phone. The dad pushing his son on the swing set while hands-free on his mobile isn’t really with his child. The mom pushing her baby in a pram while she’s yakking on the phone isn’t really with her child.

(MORE: Parents Do What’s Right for Them, Not for Their Kids)

The kids aren’t too happy about it. They’re pulling on their parents’ clothes. They’re yanking on their arms. They’re acting out to get attention. I’ve heard them begging their parents to stop, disconnect. I’ve watched children start to whimper the minute the mobile is picked up — off the dinner table. During dinner. The son of a friend of mine recently announced, at age 10, that he hates cell phones. Actually, he will tell you he hates technology. IPads don’t fool him. Neither does texting. He understands that his father can never get away from his work — and the office won’t get away from his father. He sees the phone, and he thinks, I’ve lost my dad’s attention. And that’s what children crave: attention. We all do.

Parents have to break the phone habit before it is too late. I’m not talking about getting extreme here — no phone calls around a child, ever. But I am talking about giving more thought to all the missed opportunities for communicating with a child. For simply being with her. Quietly. I was pleased to find the blog of a young mother from Alabama, Rachel Stafford, who has started an aptly titled campaign called Hands Free Mama, encouraging parents to put away the tech toys and be present with their children.

(MORE: Is Your Cell Phone Making You a Jerk?)

Is being a parent boring? Sometimes. Lots of times. And guess what. Those boring moments are what you will miss the most once your children are grown. Carpool is when you should be hanging on every word. Walks are when the world unfolds at a child’s feet, in the safety of your company. The parent is the genius who gives names to things and encourages a child’s attention to detail on the path. The tiny accretion of daily routines is dull and divine. Of course there’s always plenty of time for a phone call, or 10 of them. Children are always slowly walking, slowly eating, slowly looking, slowly reading, slowly going nowhere, until suddenly they’re gone.

And giving the kids their own phones in the name of fair play doesn’t cut it. That’s happening all too often; families are together, but each person is in her own bubble of technology. Some of us worry about radiation and the developing brain. But we should be worried about disconnectedness and the developing mind.

One day, sooner than you realize, you will be with your child, wanting to talk. But she’ll be too busy. Talking to someone who isn’t there. And why not? You weren’t there when she was.

COVER STORY: Are You Mom Enough?

Browning, the former editor of House & Garden, is the author of Slow Love. The views expressed are solely her own.

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