How's Your Eyesight?

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Matthew 6:21

If our treasures steer our hearts, what does it mean when women can tote boxes and bags of clothes, books, baby items, canned food and other miscellaneous objects to donate and still have a houseful of goodies? It’s surely a generous act to think of others in need; however, what does it say about us that we possess that much overflowing our closets and homes? That we can give away items we will miss as much as the $5.00 we drop at Starbucks without a second thought.

Almost the length of one wall in this massive room was piled with items going to 8 different organizations within the community and beyond: Crisis Pregnancy Center, My Sister’s Closet, Honduras, New Leaf New Life, Kirkwood Mealshare, Salvation Army, Shalom Center and Backstreet Missions. The idea behind “possessions” week, the 3^rd chapter in the Jen Hatmaker study, The 7 Experiment, involved giving away our castoffs to those less fortunate.

To get the back story regarding this particular study, read these earlier posts about food and clothes. The premise about possessions, according to Jen, is this: “How do we manage our wealth, financial priorities, and possessions with godliness and integrity?” Instantly convicting when I consider how American culture impacts and influences my decisions regarding the belongings with which I simply can’t survive. With brimming food pantries, bulging closets, bursting toy chests and wall-to-wall furniture, what possesses me to shove more into my four walls? And, just how large are my four walls?

Just think about it for a minute. When we get married, we most likely first reside in an itty bitty apartment with one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and living room. We can’t buy too much or our furniture will push us out the door.  My son and daughter-in-law live in an apartment like that with just barely enough room for a table that seats four and a small sectional.

However, as typical Americans, we save money so that someday we can purchase a larger space for our expanding family. God forbid we should live in an apartment for the rest of our lives and waste rent money. We need an investment and more acreage. After all, when we birth our children, they each need their own rooms and a colossal yard with a swing set and trampoline (with an enclosure, of course). Our new place will need a play room otherwise their bedrooms will be overrun with toys. Oh, and we need a bathroom for mommy and daddy, one for guests and perhaps a jack and jill for the little ones. We buy into this mentality because we drink the Kool-Aid, we live in America, and frankly, this is just how we do it here. So, we move into our new place after living in an apartment the size of an anthill, and immediately, our one table with 4 chairs and sectional look lonely in that colossal castle. More house means more stuff to collect. And so, the vicious cycle of buying, filling, purging, buying, filling, purging begins.

Lest you think I’m censuring everyone that lives in a nice house with a bedroom for each child and a big backyard with a playground, I’m looking at my own reflection. I bought into the American dream with a mammoth mansion of 5 bedrooms and four baths. Can you say crazy? Actually, it didn’t seem that big when all 5 of us filled the place, and it certainly came in handy for those big family gatherings—once a year. But, could we have been just as happy in a smaller, more conservative house boasting three bedrooms and fewer bathrooms? In terms of cleaning, I shout a resounding yes!

Happiness doesn’t depend on the size of my house or the number of possessions I own; instead, it’s found within relationships—of my husband and my children and those whom I welcome inside these walls. Who cares about the wall art, the furniture and the décor? Do those who walk through my door feel love, acceptance and kindness? Or, do I apologize for the cluttered counter, the dog’s diarrhea stain on the carpet or the mound of unfolded clothes still on the sofa? Do I convey to guests that I am embarrassed that our master bedroom and bathroom are as large as our living room and kitchen combined—that it seems grossly extravagant? Why do I feel this need to explain, justify, and apologize when friends come over to connect not criticize?

I’d like to think that stuff isn’t that important to me, but I believe down deep I’m just deceiving myself. I freely donate my daughter’s clothes to one of her friends; I’ve given away many books, furniture and other things our family doesn’t use; we support various non-profit organizations; we sponsor a World Vision child in Africa; and yet, we still accumulate. Our culture tells us we need the latest gadgets and gismos. We covet what our friends’ purchase. Going to the mall fuels our desire for more. It becomes an insatiable thirst to keep up with others.

Jen says, “Darkness is never more dangerous than when we’re plunged in it and think we can see.” The question lingers: do I think I have good eyes, but a 2x4 blocks my vision? Without my contacts, people appear like blurry blobs of flesh. Occasionally, my hubby will ask me as we prepare for bed if my “eyes” are still in so I can give my opinion about his clothing choice for the next morning. If I’ve already removed my contacts, I scoot about two inches from what he’s holding, squint to bring the objects into focus and give him a yes or no. Those with horrible eyesight understand the significant impact contacts or glasses make in bringing objects into focus. Without them, a world is formless and a mesh of colors blending together.

If I acknowledge my physical eyesight is no good without correction, what about my spiritual eyesight? What are the lies with which I convince myself about money and possessions?

“I’m doing enough already.”

“Someone else will help.”

“I’ve worked hard, so I deserve this.”

“I’m buying this for a good reason.”

So, now what? Do we put our houses on the market and sell everything we own because of the pile of guilt in our front yard? Most likely not, unless God has directed you to. Or, do we carry on as usual, accumulating assets, ignoring the great needs around us? Nope, not this either! Actually, change begins when we remove the scales from our eyes to see the needs around us. We make small steps in the direction of giving, serving and helping whenever and wherever we see an opportunity.

“Every day we have incremental chances to store up heavenly treasures, to foster good eyes, to be filled with light, to serve and love our God and His people.” Jen Hatmaker

I desperately desire to foster good eyes, how about you?

What are the lies you tell yourself about money and possessions?

What can you do this week to be generous?

Bouncing Her Way

I am shocked, stunned, surprised about this homeschooling adventure with my daughter, Maddie. A few weeks ago, I talked about the years I spouted never will I ever in a billion years homeschool. The reasons not to homeschool appeared starkly obvious to me: a) her precious life could be endangered—by me, b) 7^th grade math includes story problems—sorry, dad, I still don’t understand, and c) my lunch ministry will suffer—okay, it’s pretty much nonexistent. The point is, we trudged forward, and guess what? She still lives, YouTube helps with math, and I escape every so often for lunch with a friend.

I’ve discovered a few things in this short journey thus far. I may or may not have made a premature judgment regarding whether a certain type of child could handle schooling at home. Okay, I did, all right? I always believed that if I were forced to choose homeschooling or be burned at the stake, I could school the older two who would’ve performed well since they have always been self-motivated, disciplined, conscientious students. Of course, I never entertained the outrageous notion of homeschooling them, and most definitely not Maddie, the distracted, unfocused, bouncing-off-the-walls baby-of-the-family who couldn’t sit still if a bomb was attached to her. Hence, what kind of crazy middle-aged mom considers locking herself in this prison cell?

Just call me “loco” because here I ruminate, pounding keys about the astonishing advantages of doing school with this independent, spirited tween. Throughout her years of public school, she couldn’t sit still, focus, or remain quiet. She disagreed openly with peers (mostly about the illogical arguments of the Big Bang Theory), visited the school nurse frequently (with a variety of ailments) and couldn’t complete tasks in a timely manner. At home, this girl stays motivated, works diligently and fidgets to her heart’s content. She bounces on an exercise ball while writing. Maddie studies in my bed, on the floor and hanging lopsided over a chair. She takes short lunch breaks because she has to “get back to work.” Her words, her idea, not mine. She takes responsibility for her learning. Maddie doubles up on her work during the week, so she has less to complete on Friday.

Frankly, I’m wondering if someone switched daughters on me because this is not the Maddie I know. Oh, sure, she still has those days in which she can’t focus. But, it’s not due to outside distractions of overfilled classrooms, hallway drama or girlfriend arguments. And, even if it takes her two hours to finish math, a bell doesn’t ring signaling she must move on nor does a teacher stand by her desk waiting to collect a paper she’s scurrying to finish. If she takes more time on one subject, she has the opportunity to quickly complete the next. The decision is hers. She’s realizing that in a traditional classroom, she was required to move with the masses. Now, however, she can move at her own pace, in a learning style that fits her.

What am I learning? I can be patient with a squirmy, non-traditional student with ants in her pants. Learning new things can be fascinating, like watching interesting YouTube videos of an octopus choking a shark to death.  Two years of high school Latin (thank you, Mr. McCraith) wasn't a waste of time. And, last but not least, I shouldn’t judge how someone will do in a situation until tested.

The bottom line regarding any school decision is to consider the needs of each child. At this point, we’ve run the gamut of private, public and homeschool. We’ve encountered positives and negatives in each arena. Do your homework, evaluate your children, ask God for wisdom in your decision and move forward in the direction you feel prompted. Don’t worry about others’ opinions. You do what’s best for your family.

I’d love to hear about your school experiences!

What school choice have you made for your children, and why did you choose that particular option? 

True!

Linking up with Lisa Jo today for Five Minute Friday. The word is 'true'. 

Ready…Set…GO!

“You’ll never be able to make a man happy.”

These words pierced my soul. After twelve years of marriage and two children, he slings these words like David flinging rocks at the giant Goliath. Not good enough. That’s what I hear.

Yet, I know these are not true. I know my God is enthralled with my beauty (Psalm 45:11). He calls me his masterpiece, his workmanship. I’m created for good works. These carelessly thrown words by a man no longer my husband are lies, all lies.

Yes, I know these are not true because the man I’ve been remarried to for over 13 years proves that to me every day.

“I love you,” he says.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m so thankful God brought you into my life.”

Satan wants us to believe lies, to doubt our value, to believe we are insignificant.

God, on the other hand, counteracts all of those lies when He calls us His treasures. Believe it, sister!

Stop!

The timer gonged, so the official 5 minutes of writing stopped. However, my thoughts continue to ruminate about this broken, painful time in my life.

Truth:

God brings beauty from ashes.

God has given me two beautiful children from a failed marriage.

God continues to work his forgiveness in me. It’s a Long.Hard.Process!

God gives me grace and compassion for others who are broken by life.

God is present in every storm.

God is able to do immeasurably more than I can think or imagine.

God restores what the enemy steals—joy, peace, life.

God is faithful when others betray us.

What I Want My Daughters to Know

I’m blessed with three amazing children, two of them daughters. While one is well on her way to life outside our home, one still remains in the nest. My hope is that I have taught and am teaching them these concepts. Some have been pulled from Lisa-Jo Baker’s blog; others are original.

1.       Jesus loves every single inch of you, inside and out. No.Matter.What!

2.       Who you are is more important than what you do.

3.       You bring more joy to my life than you can possibly comprehend.

4.       Nothing you tell me can make me stop loving you.

5.       No matter what you go through in life, God is always with you.

6.       Laugh a LOT.

7.       Forgive. Bitterness only hurts you.

8.       Put others first; yourself last.

9.       Chocolate is a necessity.

10.   Your body is yours. A delicious gift to be shared with your husband. I promise it’s worth waiting to unwrap together.

11.   Marriage is an act of courage, commitment and sacrifice. It’s also the most fun you’ll ever have with your best friend.

12.   Be the friend you wish you had.

13.   Real life is always better than online.

14.   I’m more interested in your growth than your happiness.

15.   We need each other.

16.   There’s no such thing as perfect.

17.   Always eat ice cream!

18.   Beauty is a state of mind, not a state of body.

19.   You can’t control what others think about you. Let it go.

20.   Honesty and truth are better than deception and lies.

21.   Home is not where we live but who we love.

22.   Sometimes we just need to cry.

23.   The best way never to worry about anyone gossiping about you is never to gossip about anybody.

24.   You can always come home.

25.   You’ll always be my baby girl.

This is not an exhaustive list of everything I desire to teach my girls. It’s such an immense job to tackle in this world that counteracts and undermines good values. And, where I’ve failed in so many areas, I pray that God fills in all the gaps!

What would you add to this list?

Growing in Generosity

Being generous is not always easy, but this year I am being challenged to become more giving in a variety of ways. So often, generosity is associated with money, but it’s much more than that. We can offer more of our time, be gracious in relationships, or sacrifice our desires for the sake of someone else.

I first grasped this thing called “generosity” when was in elementary school, about 100 years ago, with an experience that is engraved on my mind forever. My mom was the leader of a group called Campfire Girls which is similar to Girl Scouts. On this particular day, our group had visited the elderly in a local nursing home. Each girl was paired up with another person with whom we exchanged gifts. My sweet lady gave me an Uno candy bar, so wildly popular it’s no longer in existence today. As we were dropping girls off at their homes in our white hippy van, this chocolate marshmallow bar called my name repeatedly asking me to partake. Mom ordered me not to open it in front of everyone else unless I was prepared to share.

The temptation was too great; I ignored her instructions, unwrapped it and bit off a morsel. Mom immediately pulled the van over to the side of the road and demanded that I exit and walk. Shocked, I stumbled out and watched as she drove AWAY. Can you even believe it?! I should’ve recalled her knack for follow through! Ambling aimlessly, I hoped she’d return to give me a ride home. Eternity stretched out giving me time to ponder my disrespect, my lack of generosity. When the van returned, it was empty except for Mom

If she lectured me, I don’t recollect. It doesn’t really matter, because I will never forget the lesson etched on my heart about the importance of sharing with others. And, she believed it was so important that leaving me on the side of the road to ponder my actions was insignificant compared to me thinking of those less fortunate—even when it involves sharing a silly candy bar.

Think about how you can be generous, even when it seems insignificant, with your family, friends, the grocery store clerk, the waitress, or the Starbucks coffee server. Offering a kind word, the last bite, a bigger tip, a bit of understanding for a hard day, a gentle response can go a long way and just may change someone’s day!

The Dating Game

Standing in front of 50 teenagers at the One Girl Conference, I spouted, “I only have one thing to say: don’t date!”

They looked at me in stunned silence until I began to laugh, eliminating their fears that I was serious. After all, they chose this particular breakout to get the skinny on the who, what, when, where and why’s of this hot topic.

Not that I’m an expert by any means. After all, it has been approximately 1000 years ago since I had my first date. And, may I just say that I am more pleased than a child anticipating a trip to Disney World that I don’t have to repeat that process. The agony of all the going with and breaking up is akin to getting my teeth cleaned. Awkward, uncomfortable and painful.

What sort of advice beyond “avoid boys at all costs” could I give them? These girls had moved past the “boys are icky” stage. Too bad.  Bright-eyed, ears open, young brains receptive, they eagerly awaited the magic formula to snag the perfect guy. Gee, I wish it were that easy. Relationships are com-pli-ca-ted! Hence, my plea to take.their.time. Don’t rush the process!

Along the way, I’ve amassed knowledge about this dating game. Lots of it after the fact—you know, after I made mistakes.  After I had compromised, rationalized, justified why I should continue in a relationship not healthy, holy or heartening. The view on the other side seems much clearer than when I sported my bell bottoms and red swish Nikes back in the 80’s. Steering my own teens through the dating process has given me crystal clear vision, yet often my words of wisdom have fallen on deaf ears. How I desire to spare girls everywhere the consequences of life-changing poor choices!

So, when given the opportunity with a captive audience of enthusiastic girls, I shared from my own experiences as well as material from various sources.  These are a few  thoughts worthy of communicating to all girls and moms of tweens or teens:

1.    You are a masterpiece, created by God and therefore, worth something! Don’t focus on trying to get someone else to like you; instead, focus on becoming who God created you to be. He has a purpose for you beyond catching a boy. Don’t get distracted or set your dreams aside just to find a boy. Trust God for that someone, and don’t rush the process. What if you went about your everyday life becoming the person God created you to be? In doing this, your inner beauty is growing, and believe me, you’ll attract the right kind of guy down the road—when you least expect it!

 “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works,

which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10

2.    Don’t date because you are lonely or unhappy. Being in a relationship will not cure either one. It’s unfair to expect a guy to make you happy. They aren’t perfect and neither are you. All of us feel lonely at times, even those who are married. At some point, a guy will let you down. Settling for less, facing disrespect or staying in a dating relationship just so you won’t feel alone, is dangerous.  Only God can satisfy the emptiness you feel or bring the joy you lack. If you struggle with loneliness, strengthen your relationship with God and with friends who will encourage you in your faith.

 

3.    Date a guy who shares your same values. One of my parents’ rules when I began dating was that I couldn’t date a non-Christian. Some say this shouldn’t be a big deal because after all, you aren’t marrying the guy; you’re just dating. Aha! But, dating leads to marriage. You may not believe you’ll get married, but when you become emotionally attached and perhaps physically involved, voila, you end up staying with a person you should never have dated in the first place. So, why go there? Why take the chance? Set guidelines about the types of guys you’ll date ahead of time. When someone asks you out who doesn’t meet those standards, say no! Be picky.

Missionary dating doesn’t usually work either. Too often, the believer begins to compromise his or her values because of peer pressure. My daughter-in-law, Kyla, says her mom always told her if she couldn’t see herself married to the guy, she shouldn’t date him. So, if you don’t want to marry a guy that doesn’t respect you, doesn’t share your values, doesn’t make you a better you, doesn’t draw you closer to God, refuses to acknowledge and work through his own imperfections and isn’t honest, don’t start the relationship!

So, what if you’ve already made mistakes? What if you’ve crossed physical lines you shouldn’t have or are dating someone right now that doesn’t enhance your relationship with God? Perhaps you may need to consider breaking off the relationship!  Know that God offers forgiveness when you make mistakes, and He gives us a do-over.

“The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease.

Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.

(Lamentations 3:22-23)

How grateful I am for a God who wipes the slate clean when I mess up! No matter who you are, a young girl just becoming interested in boys, a teen who already has regrets involving dating, or a mom teaching your own daughters about dating, we can all experience God’s grace and forgiveness.

This is a short snippet of what I shared with tweens and teens at the conference. Entire books about dating line shelves, and I would encourage you to read more about this topic if you are in this phase of life as a teen or mom.

And, if you have a great piece of advice to share about dating or relationships, I’d love to hear it!

Never Say Never

I used to say to my homeschool friends when they were relating a challenging day with their children or complaining about the hardship of spending 24/7 with the little boogers, “That’s why I put mine in school, so my kids stay alive!” My teasing didn’t deter them from what they believed God had impressed upon them to do, despite the trials of teaching their own.  They pressed on while my two oldest graduated from high school, both earning college scholarships—one now graduated and newly married, the other in her second year of her pursuit of a nursing degree. With 12 year old Maddie bringing up the rear, I planned to continue sending her through public education just like her siblings.

Then I had to eat my words, “I will homeschool when hunger on earth is staved and terrorists don’t exist.” Pretty safe bet that I won’t be homeschooling any time soon. My hubby would occasionally ask, “Why don’t we homeschool?” to which I would sarcastically say, “Easy for you to say—you go to work every day and don’t have to give up ‘ministry’ lunches like I would have to.” And then…and then, I was sitting across from a very dear homeschooling expert asking her questions about uh, you know, homeschooling  when she shrieked in Panera, “Shut up, girl! I thought you were going to ask me questions about Bible study.”  I was exceedingly clear that at this point, we were exploring our options about this strange phenomenon. But, let me back up to what brought about this 180 degree turn.

A string of events instigated this investigation of something I said I would never do in a billion years. To keep it fairly short and sweet, I’ll summarize. An odd conversation I had with Miss Maddie’s teacher originated a germ of a thought in the homeschool direction. She asked me a bizarre question one day, “Is Maddie still on medication for ADD?” What in the world??

“Uh, Maddie’s never been on medication for ADD,” I responded. Not that I didn’t think she could definitely use it sometimes. Heck, I could even use it!

“Oh. Well…” she sounded a bit confused. “It’s just that some of her test scores indicate that maybe she needs special accommodation.  She has no problem with the day to day school work, but…” Oh believe me, I know she needs a little extra help in the focus department! Anyhow, as we continued our conversation, the wheels on the bus began to go round and round in my head.

Add to that a school board survey asking for parental input regarding changing the school year to a more balanced one to which they neglected to consider parents’ opinions and decided arbitrarily to do what they wanted. Not to mention that the board had made decisions the year before affecting the length of the school day without considering parental input. Oh, yes, there was a committee of strategically placed people who perhaps were unmarried university students with no children.  Am I living in Stalin’s Russia, I wonder?  What’s our recourse against a renegade school board?

In addition, Maddie had transferred to a new gymnastics facility an hour away, and we were traveling 4 times a week for 3-4 hour practices each night. As a 6^th grader, the late hours were wearing on her small physique. Getting up for school in the morning was a challenge and with junior high just around the corner, she would be forced to awaken an hour earlier. Waking her in the morning was like encountering a wild animal. Thinking the future through to its logical conclusion, even with getting as much homework completed as possible in the hour long car drive to gymnastics, Maddie faced the likely prospect of 6 hours of sleep a night. Sure, many teens survive on that, but they are bears to live with.

Thus, with all those pieces of the puzzle, homeschool was a picture that began to form as a reasonable, even pleasing, solution. Sure, my ‘ministry’ lunches might suffer, as well as my daily routine, but the more I think about it, the more homeschooling just makes sense. To top it off, Maddie is completely on board, excited about it. No homework after school, no in school distractions to distract her, no ISTEP testing! What’s not to like about that?

So, we are taking this scary leap into homeschooling this year, with friends still shaking their heads at the woman who said, “Never, ever will I homeschool.”

When My Heart Leaves

“You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.”  ~Frederick Buechner

 

It’s mind-blowing how a year and a half of planning for a huge event stretches on interminably and yet is over in a blink. When our son, Nick, and new wife Kyla were engaged two years ago, the wedding date June 29, 2013, seemed as far away as the moon. A lot of living happens in two years, and the distant date seems more like a fairy tale. People ask a lot about how preparations are going, and my standard response sounds a lot like, “I don’t really know; I’m the Supporting Actress.” A few months before, the action picks up. I’m ordering tuxes and organizing a rehearsal dinner complete with homemade centerpieces.  (This, incidentally, is a feat in itself for a non-crafty person like me.) And then, in a matter of hours, it’s completed.concluded.kaput. The anticipation and excitement of 9 family members camping in our home for 10 days comes and goes like a streak of lightning.

Actually, when my parents arrive, it feels like it’s going to be forever—like going to Disney World not enduring an Italian opera. It’s important I clarify that. My brother’s family joins us the next day along with my aunt and uncle. We stuff people into three cars to various venues for the rehearsal, wedding and reception. Hours later, after all the posing for pictures, saying “I do”, and dancing of the bride and groom, we crash on couches exhausted yet content. A perfect day complete with the promise of more fun in the ensuing days. I count in my head seven more days of memory making. I open and shut my eyes aware that the days fast forward like a cassette player. Memories of  Lake Monroe in a storm, Kings Island rides and 4^th of July bonfire and fireworks imprint on my mind.  Family start dropping off like flies. First, my aunt and uncle, then my brother and his beautiful family. Finally, I drop off the sole survivors, my parents, at the airport. I hate saying goodbye. Unbidden tears flow threatening to ruin my makeup. Not a surprise for such a stoic person as I!

The silence is deafening on the way home, even with magpie Maddie sitting beside me. We feel the letdown of two weeks of nonstop activity. The only word I can think of is one that I hate to hear coming out of my own kids’ mouths—BORING! Now, what will we do? I walk in the quiet house that once held the clamor of 13 voices. I’m not liking it one bit. I text Mom, “It’s too quiet here. Come back.” She’s already flown away, cell phone silenced.

Mess is everywhere, but who cares enough to clean? I don’t even want to get up to pull leftovers out of the frig. Lethargic and listless, that’s what we are. The world stopped for two weeks, and now we can’t figure out what to do with ourselves. Between dad making breakfast and my mom and aunt fixing dinner, I’m pondering how I can approach Tony about hiring a cook. I’m sure it’s a necessity. Even with new pots and pans in the cupboard that the four of them conspired to purchase (something about my old ones being completely inadequate), I’m not compelled to pull out a recipe.

And, who knew that two retired men could fix my oven broken during the self-cleaning cycle and repair a dryer that has been taking an average of two cycles to dry? No wonder I’m crying when they all leave! The bottom line is I pretty much love hanging out with my family that lives a million miles away from me. And, no matter how much time we have together, it’s never enough. I’ve heard horror stories of the family that tolerates each other, overstays their welcome and is skedaddled out the door.

Glad those folks don’t belong to me!

Moving Out

My son is a bit too giddy as he packs his things into his car to move into the apartment he will soon share with his bride. He’s leaving our home for good and shows no glimmer of sadness or tear-stained cheeks. Shouldn’t he at least appear to be despondent at moving away from me, the one who bore him in pain and agony, changed his blowouts, helped him with his math (at least until 4^th grade), washed his grass-stained jeans, listened to 14 billion choir performances  and watched  all those boring baseball games? At least he could do a little acting and pretend like he will miss take and bake Papa Murphy’s on Friday nights! To him, this is just like moving to college four years previously. To me, this is for.ev.er.

To Nick, it’s just another move to add onto the 10 previous over the span of 3 states. One more is nothing to him. His new wife, in 15 days to be exact, definitely has a more appropriate response departing her family. Apparently, she loves them more deeply. I’m sure it has nothing to do with her being a girl or the fact that she’s resided in her home, well, ALL of her life, and the myriad of memories, mementos and moments that are plastered on the beams of her home and in her heart. Living in one place can certainly make one a bit more sentimental about sifting through and packing up belongings collected over 21 plus years. Living like a gypsy, however, allows one to not bat an eye when the door slams shut.

Perhaps, he might shed one tear when we dance to Rascal Flatt’s, “My Wish,” during the Mother-Son dance as he looks into my eyes and ponders my terrificness. Fond memories like lunches with fruit snacks, mounds of clean laundry unfolded on the couch (another wrinkled shirt to wear) and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner again will bring a drop of water to one eye. Or, maybe it’s just my heels stepping on his toes. Whatever; a tear is a tear, and I’ll take it! 

A Tween's Example

Every night when we tuck Maddie in, we take turns praying. For the past several years, on Maddie’s night to pray, she talks to God about Uncle Tim’s back. Every.single.time. One particular night, she asked me, “Why doesn’t God answer my prayer? How come Uncle Tim’s back is still hurting?”

“I don’t know, Maddie. I just know God is not like a magician. He doesn’t simply wave a magic wand and make everything the way we want it. Sometimes, He wants us to learn to trust Him in the midst of our unanswered prayers.”

Through the years of modeling prayer, we’ve prayed about school, friendships, sickness, bad attitudes and everything else in between. This little girl is grasping the importance of talking to Jesus about everything. A few weeks ago, she heard that her dear friend’s mother was experiencing some health issues. She immediately created a card, mailed it and began praying for her. Everyday, she’d ask, “Do you think she got my card yet, Mom?”

One day, I received a text from this sweet friend relaying thanks to my daughter for the card and the request she had placed in the prayer basket at church. My friend just happened to be on the 24 hour prayer chain that particular day and cried as she read Maddie’s heartfelt request for God to heal. It moved me too knowing that my daughter is realizing the importance of crying out to Jesus for every need.

I am often proud of my children for their school and sports accomplishments. But this particular day, Maddie’s developing prayer habit for those in need surpassed any champion medal she could’ve received. Her commitment to bring someone suffering before the God of the universe caused me to ponder my own passion to pray. What a beautiful reminder that God desires that our first impulse be to bring our concerns before Him, large or small.

In fact, a few days later, Maddie rattled off her own prayer request before boarding the school bus. “Hey, can you pray that I’m nice to Clay today and that I do well on my test?” How grateful I am that God hears our sincere petitions for kindness to that person who is difficult to love. Maddie’s example reminds me to bring all my concerns to my Savior who hears me whenever I call.   

Endings and Beginnings

A week ago I watched my firstborn walk across a stage, shake a few hands and receive a degree he’s worked for four years to obtain. With watery eyes and sniffles, I slipped back in time to my own passage across a platform to receive my English degree about a thousand years ago, yet I remember it like it was yesterday. Now, I’m my parents and I know what it’s like to be on the other side of the stage, sitting prouder than a peacock, watching my tall son go through his rite of passage with honors. I glance at my husband whose eyes are also brimming and red. Our eyes express our feelings. No words needed. 

We’ve watched this boy grow from child to man. And though we felt a smidgen of this ending of things four years previously at his high school graduation, it doesn’t compare to the finality of this ending. How could it? He still came and went, summer and fall, holidays and weekends. We’d play games, watch movies and he’d sleep in his bedroom in our home. But now. Now?! It’s different. He’ll be home long enough to save a few more dollars, move into his own place, marry, make his own home and eventually raise his own family. An extension of us, but nevertheless, his own. On his OWN. Without us.

Bittersweet, yet isn’t this what we as parents are supposed to do? Raise our little ones to manhood or womanhood so they can step out on their own?   Raise them to know the One who is present with them always even when Mom and Dad aren’t? Raise them to know that no matter what, no matter what, Jesus can be trusted through any situation they may face? Many times as a mom, I’ve wished for do overs. I’d have handled many situations differently, but one thing I’d never change is sharing Jesus with my son. Because the one thing I do know is that if my green-eyed boy knows the One to go to in any circumstance, it won't matter where life takes him, he’ll be fine.

So, life right now feels strange. I’m sad and happy rolled up together. I’m Jesus’ mother, treasuring all these things in my heart (Luke 2:51), holding onto that boy for just a few weeks longer, until he truly flies away. In my mind he’s still mine. Always will be. Yet, I know another has taken his heart, as it should be. Nevertheless, I carried, cuddled and corrected that kid for 22 years, and if I’m like my own mother, I’ll feel compelled to continue even when he’s 40! So, even though he’s moving out, establishing his family and career, giving his heart away to another, I will hold him close in mine forever. 

Mommy Lingo

Lingo—mommies everywhere use it. We repeat particular words and phrases to our children like a Gregorian chant. The sayings my mother chanted incessantly are ingrained in my memory, and unwittingly, I’ve reiterated a few of them to my own children. Perhaps these will sound familiar to you as well.

Tee-ee-eemwork—This sing-songy expression Mom gushed during any type of chore to make it seem more fun because we were working together. She coined this original “clean up” tune before Barney created the official “Clean Up” song.  You know the one I’m referring to: “Clean up, clean up; everybody, everywhere. Clean up, clean up: everybody do your share.” Unfortunately, we didn’t buy into her effort to make weeding the flower beds, dusting the bookshelves or raking the shag carpet a joyful event.

We’re making a memory—The first occasion I recall mom using this phrase, we were traveling by train through the desert of California when the air conditioning quit working. Mom hadn’t anticipated entertaining three young, cranky children in a sweltering train car for hundreds of miles.  However, she turned a sizzling situation into an optimistic opportunity. We never forgot the trip and have uttered these words many times when plans go awry.

Go ahead and do what you want; you will anyway (said with a sigh)—Mom voiced this expression specifically during our teen years when one of us wanted to participate in some activity of which she didn’t wholeheartedly approve, but couldn’t think of a good enough reason to tell us no.  Activities such as attending a dance after a football game or driving to the big city with friends weren’t scandalous, but simply made her feel a little uncomfortable. Most of the time, the sigh at the end, designed to invoke guilt, didn’t achieve its desired results. And, even when we felt a slight twinge of guilt, we took part in the endeavor anyway! 

If ________ jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge?—Mom spurted this when we tried to persuade her to allow us to partake in an activity our friends were allowed to do. Spouting “Linda’s mom lets her _________” didn’t fly in our house. I take this a step further with my own kids by asking, “Do I look like __________’s mom? Guess you were just born in the wrong house.” At first glance, this phrase appears similar to the one above; however, the major difference is that this saying was used to clearly define actions that mom felt crossed the line, such as watching questionable movies.

We’ll see—Basically, these two powerful words mean “no” but are said not only to stall the inevitable but also to give moms a reprieve from the whining and pleading that ensues when the word “no” is used. This short expression may be a mom’s most frequent utterance, discharged subconsciously a hundred times a day to a badgering toddler, tween or teen.

Go Ask Your Dad—Most of the time, we asked our dad first anyway! Dad, a big mush, would consent to our desires more often than mom, who vetoed more than President Roosevelt (FDR). However, when the two finally deciphered our game, they plotted together foiling our attempts to get away with any shenanigans. Before long, “go ask your dad” resulted in “what did your mom say?” Ah, shucks—we knew the answer to that! I’ve used these words plenty of times as a stall tactic and to pass the buck.

Mommy mantras abound, don’t they? We’ve heard and verbalized multitudes of phrases. I’ve declared, “Do your best”, “be polite”, “don’t touch”, “brush your teeth”, “and remember to say thank you”, “drive carefully”. The list is endless and is no respecter of age. For some reason, we continue to reiterate long after our children are grown, married and parenting our grandchildren. It’s a habit from years in the trenches of motherhood when we are training and teaching our children to become responsible young men and women.

I know this to be true because of the words my 92 year old grandma said to my age 70-ish aunt who lives with her. Rain pelted the ground in the San Luis Obispo area where they resided. As my aunt was preparing to leave the house to pick up my mother at the airport, my grandma said, “Be careful driving in the rain!”

As sure as the sun rises and sets, moms around the world will drive their children crazy imparting short nuggets whether their children are age 5 or 50—or even older than that!