How I Began To Feel Free: Busyness

March 13, 2015March 13, 20152 Comments

I recently read the article, Busy Is A Sickness on Huffington Post Parents by Scott Dannemiller. As I read the article I can’t help but whisper the word “yes” aloud as I relate to every word.

I have the sickness too. It is the tendency of my heart to be discontent with just being.

Two years ago I attended a training and two women stood in front of the large group. One woman held her two hands into the air to illustrate the image of a small person trying to hold up a big world. She simply asked the question, “What happens when you let go?”

I gasped and externally processed the shocking truth of how I see myself. I replied in shock, “The world would fall on me. The world will crush me if I let go.”

It was in that moment that I heard out loud the way I view myself. I see myself as big. I see myself as the one who holds up the world.

I wasn’t able to feel free from the heavy yoke of busy until I realized I was small. Even when I let go of my world, it will still keep spinning. I was able to feel freedom from the weight of busyness when I finally recognized the simple truth: I don’t hold up the world.

So I put my hands down for an entire year. (How Saying No Is Leading Me To More Yes) I gave up the extras. I let the sign up sheet pass by when it was time to sign up for room mom and Sunday School teacher, small group leader, and hosting events.

It was hard to take a year and watch the world spin without me having my hands in the things I love but it was a great opportunity to reflect on my heart that is bent toward the busyness I control. When I was able to let go and put my hands down, the world did not fall apart. God brought in people even more talented than I could ever be to lead small groups, teach Sunday School and sign up to be classroom coordinator. When I put my hands down, God kept the world moving and God raised up stronger leaders.

When I realized the world would keep on moving without my name on the sign up list, I could breathe and for one year I just tried to focus on the very important things God has already given to me: my faith, my marriage and my children. In that year I was able to focus on the things that do in fact suffer when I am too busy to pay attention to them.

I went on more dates with my husband, I yelled the word “hurry” less and I just enjoyed my children without all the extras.

This year I have found my name back on the sign up list. I am teaching Sunday School, leading a small group and I am the classroom coordinator for my son’s kindergarten class. After a year of realizing I don’t hold up the world I have been able to come back and serve with a heart that sees myself with a proper lens: I am small. The year off has enabled me to hold onto the extras a little more loosely.

I am teaching Sunday School with two other amazing women.

I am leading a small group with a team of women.

I am a small classroom coordinator that hands out a sign up sheet for the other parents to lead the games, crafts and snacks at the class parties.

I am a small person inviting others into my life to come alongside and help me.

Busy Is a Sickness. I will always have it and I will always struggle with the pangs of busyness unless I fight to see myself with the proper lens.

Who holds up your world? Will you allow yourself to feel free?

The Mark Of A Mother

March 10, 2015March 11, 2015Leave a comment

Today as I was sitting in the bright white room at the doctor’s office talking to my beloved pediatrician about my fifteen month old daughter at her well check up, my daughter dug her nails into the exposed skin below my neckline and drug her hands passed my heart all the way down to the squared neckline of my green Old Navy tee.

An hour after the incident.

I swore I was bleeding. I kept talking to my pediatrician but, at the same time, checking the part of my upper chest for blood. My daughter was smiling as she as she hurt me but I still swear that sweet child of mine may have been out for blood.

I have a bleeding heart for my children. I love them so much it hurts.

Mothers are just like that. All mothers. Breastfeeding mothers, bottle feeding mothers, working mothers, stay at home mothers, organic mothers and drive thru mothers. I am or know all of those kinds of mothers so I know its true.

We all have bleeding hearts for our kids. We all love them so much it hurts.

When my daughter straight up assaulted me in front of our pediatrician I literally gasped in pain but then smiled and went about our regular check up. I also probably kissed my daughter and told her how much I loved her as we left the office more than I can even count.

The Mark of a Mother is deeper than the marks on their skin or their ego. The Mark of a Mother loves the unloveable. The Mark of a Mother takes the pain inflicted from a sweet child and says,

I don’t care how much you just hurt me, I still want to smooch your face off.

The Mark of a Mother knows our days are few.

You know you are a mother when the pain from your child, the blood on your hands of the stain on your ego does not change your love for them. The love for a child from a mother is unconditional and never ending.

The Mark of a Mother feels the pain and loves anyway.

That is the dangerous calling we have all been given. To love in the hurt. It is natural for us to do so. That is the Mark of a Mother.

Today when I checked out at the receptionist’s desk she gasped, Did someone scratch you?

I nodded, yeah. Kids do things like this.

I really don’t care. Of course, I want my children to grow to respect me but even if they don’t (and that could happen) even if they continue to scratch the surface of my heart… I will love them with a ferocious love anyway.

You hear that kids, no matter what you try to do to hurt me, I love you and I will try to smooch your face off anyway.

This is the Mark of a Mother.

I see you moms and know you have that ferocious Mark of a Mother too.

More Than Cute

March 4, 2015March 6, 2015Leave a comment

Disclaimer: This post is about rethinking the way we as people speak to others. How our speech forms how others view themselves and how the words I’ve heard have shaped me as a woman.

I have been a girl mom for fifteen months. With boys the phrase that comes up often is “you’ve got your hands full.” I have written about this before and have received comments about how people are not meaning any harm and I should respond in love. I hear you. I want you to know I have never back-handed anyone or snarled at the ones rolling their eyes at me or shaking their heads and sighing when they see me with my three sons so close together. My sons do not cause me trouble nor are they inconveniences to me but they are, each and every one of them, a precious gift.

This post and the peeling back of responses to children in culture is more about an aching heart for how we see and respond to others. How we can give a voice to the little dear ones in our strollers and our grocery carts. How we as grown ups can reform ourselves, grow and be better when we engage people out in the world.

I don’t think I have heard the phrase “you’ve got your hands full” since my post They Can Hear You went bananas last summer and basically broke the internet. That is a win for me. So here it goes with my latest thoughts about speech… I have been a girl mom for fifteen months and there is a new phrase I am rethinking. It is a phrase we all use and a phrase that bubbles out of our months when we see a little girl approaching our path, “she is so cute.”

Cute. C-U-T-E. attractive, especially in a dainty way; pleasingly pretty

This is an overwhelmingly kind comment. I actually use it all the time when I see girls of all kinds. Cute shoes, cute hair, cute shirt. I remember being on vacation one year in Florida and I had seen some family there who were vacationing in the Sunshine State at the same time. I remember running into a particular younger family member, she was maybe seven at the time, and I used these exact words to connect with her. “You are so cute.” Her father quickly interjected and said, “She is also very smart and very kind.”

I was taken back. I didn’t understand his rebuttal back then but I do now.

It seems as if we as people are very quick to comment on the outward appearances of especially women and we forget to see what God sees, the inward beauty that is not fleeting but is everlasting.

Being cute, dainty and pretty will eventually come and go and on that day the women and the girls we have been complimenting on their cuteness will be left wondering, who am I? But inner beauty cannot be matched. Courage, boldness, intelligence, a heart for the Lord, kind, important and loved. Those are the things we should be fighting to say to those sweet girls that will one day be women when they cross our path in that grocery store.

I love dressing my daughter in ribbons, bows and smocked dresses. She loves standing next to me while I put on my makeup and she likes to brush the make up brush on her face and say “pretty.” I am not calling for a strike against girliness, I love being girly. However, I am wondering about how I can build my daughter up with other words, words other than cute.

Currently, when we hear the phrase, “she is so cute” I always respond, “she is VERY loved.” And she is. Who wouldn’t be in a family with three big brothers?

L-O-V-E-D: held in deep affection; cherished

As a woman in my thirties I would much rather be cherished than the words dainty and cute. Cherished feels more secure than dainty.

I want my daughter and all of the daughters in our homes to know from the beginning that they are more than their appearance, their bows, or the outfits they are rocking on that day.

All of our daughters are loved, cherished, kind, smart, important, accepted and loved by The Most High God. Let’s saturate our compliments for little girls with truths they can take with them into eternity.

Cute and dainty are the outward things that man sees. Let’s try to fight to see the inward beauty that God sees. For a more confident generation: will you walk with me in reshaping the way we rotely respond to our sisters… young and old?

Teach Them To Pray

March 3, 2015March 3, 2015Leave a comment

I am currently reading Timothy Keller’s book, Prayer. I am the kind of reader who reads the last chapter when I am about halfway through a book, the anticipation of the last words is the kind of anticipation that causes me to read the end before the middle. I cave. Every book, every time.

Keller’s last words on Prayer say, “Why are we settling for water when we could have wine?”

This question rips through me. Prayer can be something that we as human beings just spin around on the circle of what we have always known. We know to pray when we are in trouble and need help or we pray and ask God to give us what we want. That is what I have always done and this kind of prayer is right and biblical, “give us this day our daily bread” simply means give us what we need, help us Lord.

When I get stuck on the wheel of the “I want” and “help me” prayers, also known in the church as supplication prayers, I find myself settling for water instead of wine. Prayer becomes very much about me and what I want and less about God. The relationship of prayer is one-sided and I become the main event. When I make prayer about me, I am settling for water.

I can have access to wine when I seek to have a two-sided relationship with the God of The Universe. When my prayer requests for everything that is wrong around me become only a part of my prayer life instead of the only thing I pray for is when I will break the hamster wheel of spinning around what I have always known about prayer.

This is hard to do. In the world of weight lifting it is recorded that “It takes 3,000 to 5,000 repetitions to burn a movement into your body’s muscle memory.” a minimum of 3,000 times at the generous amount of praying three times a day (Keller’s book suggests two) would take you 1,000 days to change the muscle memory of your prayers. This is three years! Three years of forcing yourself to step outside of your comfort zone and feel the soreness and pains of a new workout.

As adults it is much harder for us to change our ways. Most of us are already set in the way we do things. Especially when we do not live in community with others who are committed to the process of walking in this life as Christians and committed to growth and change in their watery prayer lives.

As I read Keller’s book all I can think about is, “What if my kids just always knew how to have a vibrant prayer life?” What if my kids just always heard prayer as a two-sided relationship, a conversation of the peeling back of our hearts and praise to the One who desperately wants them?

At night I pray with my sons and around 18 months I will begin to pray with my daughter at night time by their beds. Sometimes I am tired and I settle for the watery prayers of safety while they sleep and protection over their thoughts and their dreams. But I never forget to say, “Lord, please change the hearts of my kids so they know you and love you with all their heart and give them friends and spouses that love you with their whole hearts too.”

I say this so often that while talking to my youngest son (3) about the gospel just the other day, I went through the normal questions…

1. What did Jesus do? (He died on the cross)

2. Why did Jesus die on the cross? (For our sins)

3. Did Jesus stay on the cross? (No, He rose again and He lives forever in heaven)

4. What does it mean if you believe Jesus died on the cross for you sins? (We can live forever with Him in heaven where there is no more crying and no more bad guys)

Instead of the answer I normally get from our children to question two, Jesus died for my sins, my three year old confidently said, “Jesus died for my heart.”

My three year old basically smacked me in the face with the same words I have been praying over his bed since he was 18 months old. “Jesus died for my heart.” What a beautiful picture of the gospel to see in that moment. Jesus wants our whole hearts, not just the pieces we offer to give Him when we feel like we need Him. We need him all the time, the chaos of our hearts just prevents us of seeing that clearly.

What if we could teach our kids to pray so we could break the “settling for water” cycle and our kids just always knew how to have access to the wine: the rich, full-bodied relationship that you can find in prayer if you choose to train your muscles differently.

What if our children just always knew that Jesus wants our hearts in prayer?

Here are a few suggestions. I am not an expert so I know there are more legitimate resources out there for teaching children how to pray. I am just a mom, not a theologian or a parenting expert, these are the tools that are working for me to teach my kids to pray.

1. Pray so often that it isn’t something they feel like they have to do but they feel like prayer is something they can’t live without.

2. Pray when you discipline them before they leave time out. Ask for forgiveness and thank Jesus for paying the penalty of sin on the cross.

3. Pray for them on the way to school. Turn the radio off and ask what they need Jesus to give them for that day. On the way home, ask if Jesus helped them and if He did pray in praise to God so they can see the tangible work of God in their lives.

4. Pray scripture with your kids. Teach them to access God through His words, not just our human words. Let the words from the Bible saturate your words when you pray with them. Recently, my six year old was struggling with seeing scary images from a television show at night time. He was working on memorizing Philippians 4:8 (Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy think about such things.) We just prayed those scriptures at night and then I followed up to see if God answered His prayers.

5. Use the Lord’s Prayer as a framework to teach them to pray:

Adoration prayers: prayers about how awesome God is. (Our Father Who Art In Heaven, Hallowed Be Your Name)

Confession prayers: specific ways about how we fall short of the glory and holiness of God. (Forgive us our debts)

Thankfulness prayers: thankfulness for things but also salvation and the rescuing of our hearts (This gives us the recognition of the Giver of all things, 1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Supplication prayers: prayers asking God to help us, heal us, protect us (Give us this day our daily bread and deliver us from evil, )

6. Model going to God in prayer and praying full bodied prayers rich with relationship.

7. This may be a harsh one but when I find my kids asking for material things or wanting things in the store that they don’t need, I ask them to think of the things God has already given to them and pray with thanksgiving for what they already have.

As I read Tim Keller’s Book on Prayer, I can only dream and hope that my sons and my daughter will one day pick the same book up twenty years from now and think, yeah, my parents taught me to pray like this.

The next generation of believers could be so great and full of faith if we simply changed our water for wine and taught our sons and daughters to grow more deeply in their prayer life.

May my kids, your kids and the kids of every tribe, tongue and nation never know a day without giving God their hearts in full-bodied prayer.

You Are My Sunshine

February 20, 2015February 20, 20151 Comment

There was a time when I couldn’t sing the song, “You Are My Sunshine” without crying. Somewhere near the part about taking my sunshine away, the tears would begin to blanket my eyes, the tears wouldn’t fall but the blanketing tears were present, enough to blur my vision and remind me of grief.

With my oldest it as been difficult to sing the song so, for years, we have been exchanging phrases while I hoover over his bed…

you are my sunshine…

you are my daisy.

you are my warm summer day…

you are my giant ice cream cone.

For a long time, I haven’t been able to sing the words “you are my sunshine” to my oldest child. Too many blanketing tears would come to blur my vision.

Tonight was different, tonight, I made it through a whole diddy of you are my sunshine with my youngest son without the blanketing of tears. At the end I whispered to him, “you are my sunshine.” and I looked right at him with pure eyes and a happy heart. (In return my son half sleepily said, “you are my poopy butt diaper.” I giggle because in a strange way he is being affectionate and silly.)

But tonight, I made it though a whole diddy of “you are my sunshine.” That is progress for me and this is the moment where I can see the hope of moving on shining brighter than the dark nights of hovering phrases and blanketing tears. The time isn’t healing my wounds but Jesus is. He is binding them up ever so carefully and making me able to sing sweet songs to my kids over their beds in the darkness.

He is gentle with His love and He is patient with my grief.

“Love is patient, love is kind.”

I remember my mother singing that song to me. I can still hear her voice, her voice sounds just like the voice I have grown into as a woman and as a mother. It hurts my heart that she is not here and my kids can’t know her, but God is finally moving me to a different place in my grief. With Jesus binding the hurts and God renewing me, I can see that my kids knowing my mom simply comes from my kids knowing me.

My mom lives on in my songs.

My kids can know her through knowing me.

I am her sunshine, so my sun is beginning to shine bright in the darkness of grief.