Marathon Parenting

Once upon a time I was working my way toward becoming a long distance runner.  After the birth of my fourth child I decided it was time to get in shape, and my best friend convinced me to start running with her. Eventually she convinced me to run a 5K race with her.  I thought she was crazy, but I agreed to do it and so we started training.

The first few weeks of training were miserable.  We would start to jog and immediately my lungs would start screaming at me.  With gasping breaths I begged Kathy to let me stop.  But she wouldn't do it.  She pushed me to make it to the end of the block, and then to the next mailbox.  Every day the goals got a little farther apart and she pushed me to run a little bit harder.  After what felt like months (but was probably only weeks) she was cheering me on as I finished my first mile.  Soon we were running side by side on the treadmills at the gym and I was the one encouraging her to go one more minute, to finish one more quarter mile.  By the time we ran the 5K, she urged me to run on without her, and I completed the 3.1 miles several minutes ahead of her.  One thing is for sure: I could never have accomplished any of it without her support.

Training for that race was hard work.  It was exhausting and painful, and sometimes I just wanted to give up.

I've been thinking this week how much my job as a parent is like training for that race.

It's exhausting and it's certainly not easy.  Sometimes it's discouraging and downright heartbreaking.  There are times when I pray with desperate, gasping breaths, begging God for a break.  Times when I am weary and feel unable to take one more step, let alone go another mile.

And God reminds me: this race we're running, it's not just a 5K.  The finish line is not waiting three miles down the road.

No, the race we're running as parents is definitely a marathon.  And lest I become even more discouraged, He reminded me of this:

...but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.

~Isaiah 40:31

The hardest work of parenting, I think, isn't teaching my children the difference between right or wrong, or even teaching them to be nice to their siblings.  The most difficult part of parenting is consistently and diligently shaping their character so that it reflects the character of God.  It is enforcing Godly boundaries even when my children don't seem to respond with anything but disdain for me when I do.  It is waiting on God and trusting Him to form the hearts of these precious young people in His own time.

I want the race to be over after just a few miles, with a quick sprint to the finish line.

God says it takes a lifetime.

I don't think I can run this race.

But God says I can, and here's how:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. ~ Hebrews 12:1-3

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.     ~ Hebrews 10:23

When Kathy and I first began training for our race, she would pick out a mailbox or a street sign down the road and push me to make it at least that far. As I was running I would fix my gaze on that goal, determined to make it without giving up.  That goal - that mailbox or sign post - gave me hope.  Without it, I stared ahead at what seemed like an endless road that I knew I couldn't conquer.  

Jesus is my goal, my hope in this parenting marathon.  When I'm feeling overwhelmed by the road ahead of me, it's because I've taken my eyes off of Him and focused instead on the challenges and difficulties of being a parent.  When I am weary and want to quit, it's time to realign my heart and mind so that they are fixed on my Savior.  In Him I will find the energy and strength to press forward.  He is my hope that I will make it to the finish line, and He will be faithful to see me through.

I'm no marathon runner.  In fact, I'm not even a 5K runner any more.  But I am the parent of four very special people who need me to press on in this race.  Even if they don't understand or appreciate how I'm running it, they need me to keep on.

And so I will continue putting one foot in front of the other, eyes and heart fixed on Jesus, determined to go the distance.

A Tribute To My Dad

Today is Father's Day.  Being the fabulous daughter that I am, I neglected to do so much as send a card to my dad.  What use is a card, anyway?  It expresses my supposed thoughts towards my dad, only in someone else's words.  And after it sits on a counter or desk somewhere for a couple of days it just goes in the trash, anyway. 

Thinking that my own words might do a better job of articulating how I feel about my dad, I opted to share them here.

If you haven't had the pleasure of knowing my dad, I must say that the loss truly is yours.  My dad is an amazing man.  No, he's not rich or famous or even overly charismatic.  Meeting him won't leave you stunned and speechless.

But knowing him will bless your life incredibly.

When people ask me about my dad, I smile as I recall the many days we spent in the backyard throwing a softball back and forth.  How many times did he have to let himself out through the gate to retrieve a ball I had launched over the fence?  And then there was the day he was trying to teach me how to pitch...

I'm sure he must have been angry about that broken window, but I truly don't remember.

I remember riding behind him on the motorcycle, feeling the world rush by yet knowing I was completely safe with him controlling the bike.

SAFE.

Yes, my dad was always my safe place.  Whether I was hurt or scared or sick, my daddy's lap was the safest place in the world.  I can even remember curling up against him on the couch as a teenager when I had taken too much antibiotic and my stomach felt like it was trying out for the Olympic gymnastics team.  And then there were the times that I knew I had messed up, when I knew I was in TROUBLE.  Still, my dad was a safe place to turn, to confess my wrongdoing.  There was no fortress on earth as safe as my dad's presence.

But the one thing I always tell people about my dad when they ask is this:  My dad has been, and still continues to be, the best living example of Jesus that I have ever met.  I have watched him give and give and give of himself to the people around him, never asking for anything in return.  I have watched him grieve when his children are hurting.  He has walked with integrity and righteousness, and expected my brother and me to do the same.  I have felt his wrath when I have stepped out of line, but always, always felt the forgiveness and acceptance along with the punishment.  He has pointed me to our Heavenly Father with his words and actions alike.

My dad will never write a book or deliver a sermon filled with eloquent words.  That's just not who he is.  But my dad has painted a picture of Jesus with his life that - to me - is beyond parallel.

Thank you, Dad, for loving Jesus enough to be Him in my life.  Love you.

Just For Fun!

The Kansas State Fair came to town this week, which of course is always a big deal for the locals.  My kids were extra super excited at the prospect of going for an afternoon.  I remember coming to the State Fair a couple of times as kid, but riding the rides was never something my family did.

As a mother, I now understand why we never rode the rides or played the games... Man, are they ever expensive!  We've taken the kids the past couple of years on "Dollar Day," when you get in the gate for a dollar and each ride is only one ticket instead of the usual 3 or 4, but this year we opted even to forgo that less expensive option. 

Which, of course, resulted in many tears at the Logan household.

It broke my heart to disappoint them, but we just couldn't justify spending the money on rides and deep-fried junk food when we were still dealing with the plethora of home repairs that God has blessed us with of late.  (Read all about those in last week's post, Kneading the Dough.)

I assured them that the fair would be back again next year with all the same rides and all the same food vendors.  Even Dollar Day.

They didn't seem to appreciate my assurances.

So today we had a Fun Fair Foods Day at home!  Complete with chili dogs, fried dill pickles, funnel cakes and chocolate covered bananas.

Keep in mind that I NEVER fry anything, and we usually try to limit dessert to once or twice a week (certainly never two at the same meal!).  But tonight when they asked if they could have both funnel cake AND a chocolate covered banana, I got to say "Yes!"

It was really fun!  Saying, "yes," that is.

And the food.

Yep, it was a pretty fun night all around.  We even shared it with some good friends.

I guess my point in writing all of this is to tell you that it's okay to "miss out" on some of the high-dollar entertainment opportunities.  It's a good thing, even!  Yes, the fair is fun and no two years are ever alike, but the whole point of going is to make memories.  And I would bet the kids will remember the night Mom made funnel cake at home -- even tried to write their names with the batter -- far longer than they would a couple of hours of fighting crowds, waiting in lines and sitting on a mini-roller coaster for three minutes at a time.  They had more fun helping me dip the bananas in chocolate than they would have had paying for one at a vendor.

Everyone else at school may be talking next week about what they did at the fair, but my kiddos will be able to tell a different story, one about spending an afternoon making memories with their family.

Sometimes it's not about the money you spend or the places you go.  Sometimes it's just about finding something to do together, just for fun.

Poured Out

"Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, 'children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.' Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain. But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. So you too should be glad and rejoice with me." ~ Philippians 2:14-18

I confess, I grumble from time to time about all the things I have to do as a mom.  

Okay, maybe a little more than "from time to time."

Don't get me wrong: I love my kiddos more than life itself.  I very often delight in them.  I love hearing them laugh, watching them play, feeling their little arms wrap around my neck.  It makes my heart sing to hear them pray and to listen as they belt out their favorite worship song on the way to town.  And their sweet little faces as I kiss them each goodnight...so precious and perfect, each one of them.

But then there are those moments when all four of them need something from me, the two youngest are fighting over some random toy, dinner is burning on the stove and one of the older boys wants to know why he can't have a friend over for the evening...  Those are the moments when I just want to scream, "QUIET!" and send them all to separate corners of the house.

Okay, so I have actually done that.

(More than once.)

Being a mom is HARD work, whether you have one child or an entire quiver-full.  It's exhausting.  Because unlike any other job, there is no "quittin' time."  Or lunch break or coffee break or any other kind of break!  Shoot, we moms are lucky to get a quick trip to the bathroom without someone tagging along or banging on the door while we're in there!

My knight in shining armor (otherwise known as my husband) came to my rescue recently and took all the children to town for two whole hours so I could have some time to collect my thoughts and gather my wits about me after a long weekend at home with everyone.

And do you know what I did for those two hours?  NOTHING!  I sat on the couch and watched TV, did a little FaceBook stalking and didn't have to worry about anyone other than myself.

It. Was. Glorious.

I know the apostle Paul wasn't a mom, but somehow he still phrased it perfectly when he said he was being "poured out like a drink offering."  We moms pour ourselves out for our kids all day long, every day.  Even when we're not with them, we're still doing things to take care of them: working at our paying jobs, cleaning house, cooking for them, washing their clothes, praying for them, running their forgotten lunch bags to the school...  We are constantly pouring out our energy, our time, our every resource to provide the physical, spiritual and emotional support they need.

And someday we'll look up and see that they "shine...like stars in the sky," and our hearts will burst with pride in our children and gratitude for our Father who made all our efforts finally come to fruition.

But in the years between then and now, as we continue to pour ourselves out for our children, let me encourage you moms to make sure you're also pouring in.  If you consistently pour out without filling up, your cup will eventually run dry.  

We've all heard it said over and over that we moms need to make sure and take some time for ourselves.  Pamper ourselves once in a while.  Take a break.  Enjoy a morning out with our friends.  And I agree; we've got to build some of this into our days and weeks.

But that's not exactly what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about making sure you're giving God time to pour into your life, into your soul.  Are you finding time away from your family to let God's Word soak into your heart?  Are you spending more than a fleeting moment talking to Him and listening to what He needs to tell you?  Are you ever just crawling up in His lap and finding that rest that He promises? (Matthew 11:28)

Girls, our resources are limited.  God's are limitLESS.  Let Him fill your cup so that you have a full offering to pour out on behalf of your family.  Give Him the opportunity every day to fill you to the brim; to make you overflow, even!  When we draw from HIS well instead of our own, we will find the blessings we pour out on others to be richer, sweeter, and easier to give.

Keep pouring out, girls, but take time to sit in His presence and let yourself be filled up as well.

"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'” ~ John 4:13-14

Super Mom!

 Welcome to this week's

Well, fellow moms, it's Monday again.  I don't know about you, but my weekend just flew by, and at 6:30 this morning my family rushed headlong into another week that is filled to the brim.

My Saturday morning plans for family cleaning day were preempted last week by a 7th grade football scrimmage, and I really try to avoid housework on Sundays, so here I sit on Monday morning with piles of laundry waiting to be folded, and more piles that are sorted and waiting to be put in the washer.  Carpets are begging to be vacuumed, the bookshelves look like I could plant a garden in the layer of dust.  And the kids' bedrooms?  Well, at least I can shut their doors so I don't have to see the chaos that reigns supreme in their little kingdoms.

I'm thinking about everything that has to be accomplished today and I'm thinking, How, God?  How is this all going to get done?  I checked my closet this morning for my Super Mom cape, but it wasn't there.

Sigh.

Super powers would've been nice to have today.

I guess I'll just have to do things on my own.

That's the temptation, isn't it?  To think we have to do all of this on our own?  We expect ourselves to be Super Mom, to accomplish more than is humanly possible and to do it all by ourselves.  And we exhaust ourselves trying to do just that!  After all, isn't that part of being a good mom?

Last night I laid down on the couch to listen to my daughter read to me.  Twenty minutes later I woke up and found her playing video games with her brother instead.  I was so tired I couldn't even listen to her read a book for fifteen minutes!  Is that being a good mom?


I have learned that part of being a good mom is taking care of myself as much as I take care of the rest of the family.  Yes, there's a LOT of self-sacrifice involved in being a mother, but you cannot put the family's needs ahead of your own to the point of neglect.  You are part of the family, and when you aren't cared for, the whole family suffers.

So, here are some practical suggestions, some things you can do to help yourself and become a better mom in the process:

1) Change your expectation of yourself.  Cut yourself some slack!  It's OKAY if all the work doesn't get done every day!  (Who really cares if that load of clean towels sits in the basket for two days??)

2) Prioritize.  Write everything down that you think you need to accomplish and assign a number to them according to their urgency.  Use "1" for the things that HAVE to be done today, "2" for the things that can wait until tomorrow and "3" for the ones that, honestly, are just wishful thinking.  At the top of the list, include "Quiet time with the Lord."  Don't push this off until last, make it a TOP priority!

3) Build a sabbath rest into your week.  I take Sunday afternoons.  After Sunday lunch is cleaned up, I take some time to relax, enjoy the kids, or spend some time on the front porch with my hubby.  Sometimes I even get to sneak off and have some time all to myself!  However I use my time, it is obligation free.

4) Involve your kids in the housework!  It took me far too long to start giving my kids responsibilities other than cleaning their rooms.  Partially because I wanted things done "right" (a.k.a. MY way), and partially because I thought it was easier to do things myself than to teach them.  Now they help on a daily basis and it is wonderful!

Girls, we don't have to have a Super Mom cape in order to be a super kind of mom.  Your kiddos want YOU more than they want a clean house.  Let's take the pressure off of ourselves to "do it all" and make sure we're giving our families their "best Mom" instead of their "busiest Mom." 

Sheltered

An extra post this week in

Have you ever been swimming in a pool that is packed with noisy kids?  When you duck your head down under the water, all the sounds from the people around you are muted.  It's almost like an escape for a moment from all of that noise, and if you just close your eyes you can almost imagine that you're the only one there.  And then as your head breaks the surface of the water, the noise comes back full-blast, reminding you that you are, indeed, not alone in that pool.

I'm having an experience kind of like that today with my oldest son, only it isn't noise that is bombarding me. 

It's reality. 

The knowledge that I no longer have the ability to shelter and protect him from the outside world.  The idea that he has to face some really tough things and I can't be beside him to help.

Until now, he's been at a relatively small school, and knowing the environment I was pretty confident that he was safe, sheltered even.  And then last year he attended a school that was run by our church, and I knew without a doubt that he was surrounded by Godly teachers and students who had been raised in Godly homes.

This year we chose the "city" school for him based on the academic opportunities it could provide.  I am still confident that this school will be the best place for him educationally.

But last night he told me, "Mom, I'm just so tired of hearing the 'f-word' already."

Did you hear that?  That was the sound of my heart hitting the floor.

I encouraged him to tell the other boys to cut it out and choose different words, but even his dad confirmed that it really wouldn't do any good.  Those boys would continue with their foul language, and my son would more than likely become the target of their derision. 

Sigh.

Until now, our family has been able to live in this "bubble" of a world, surrounded by Christian friends and colleagues, pretty much sheltered from all the bad things that go on "out there."  We listen to Christian music, we don't watch Rated R movies, we focus on using kind words.  But today -- for me, at least -- that bubble burst into a million pieces. 

I knew to expect my son to be exposed to SOME pretty rough things, but today the reality of how MUCH really hit hard.  I broke through the surface of my sheltered life and I was startled by how "loud" of a world I have sent my son off into. 

And I was terrified.

I wanted to drive back to the school, grab him by the arm and bring him back home.  I can home-school him, I thought.  At least then I can still make sure he's taking the hard classes, and he won't have to be around all that bad stuff. 

But in my heart I knew that's not what God was asking me to do.

Please, God, I breathed, keep him safe.  And not just his body, but his mind and his heart, too.

I am praying like crazy for my children today, knowing that each one of them will have to leave our safe little world eventually.  I am more determined than ever to plant God's Word in their hearts and to teach them to love Him with everything they have.   And I am choosing to believe what the Lord spoke in Psalm 91.  There we are promised that we CAN and WILL find shelter and protection in the Lord.  

Heavenly Father, shelter my children.  Be their armor and protection.  Guard their hearts and minds and claim them as your own.  Give them the courage to stand up in Your defense, and make our home a place where they find safety and refuge.  Let our family not be terrified of the world, but bold in our witness.  In You, Lord, let us find the help we need.  Amen.

Accentuate the Positive

 Welcome to this week's

Don’t use foul or abusive language. Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them.  ~ Ephesians 4:29

Do you have nicknames for your kids?  I don't mean just a shortened version of their name, i.e. Max instead of Maxwell.  I mean a fun little name that you made up just for your kiddo.

When my daughter was a toddler, we began calling her "Princess."  Being the only girl out of our four kids, she really did get treated like a princess, too!

Unfortunately, she began to think of herself as a princess.  For nearly a year, she would wear nothing other than her "fancy" church dresses, because "that's what a princess wears!" 

Yesterday I wrote about how impacting our words can be on our spouses.  Today I want to look at how they effect our children.

Not necessarily the words we say TO our kids -- although those are desperately important, too -- but more so the words we use to talk ABOUT our kids.  Because the things we tell other people about our children will often either shape our own opinion of our kids or be a reflection of the opinion we already have.  Not to mention how we're shaping our listener's opinion of our kids!

I like to brag about my kids, to tell people how smart they are, and how cute and funny they can be.  But I also find myself telling people about the rotten things they've done.  Especially when I've had a particularly bad round with them.

In fact, I sometimes wonder if people know that I really DO enjoy my kids!

I remember reading in a marriage book once how important it is to build your spouse up to other people.  Speaking highly of them to others, whether your spouse is there to hear it or not, encourages others to see your spouse's good qualities and reinforces to your spouse the fact that you love and value them.

The same concept applies to our kids.

The more we tell other people how rotten our kids have been, the more we're going to see them as bad kids, which spills over into our interactions with them.  And just like Emma learned she was a princess because of what we called her and how we treated her, our kids will quickly catch on to the fact that we think they're more bad than good.

Kids will be kids; they're going to do some rotten things.  They're going to make some really bad mistakes.  That's all part of learning.  Sure, we have to teach them how to make GOOD choices.  We have to do our part as parents to shape them into Godly individuals.  But let's build their self-esteem along the way so that they understand how valued they are not only to us, but to their Heavenly Father as well.

It starts with us asking and allowing God to change how we think about our kids (Romans 12:2) and allowing that to spill over into the way we talk about them.  It's going to require a conscious effort on our part.  In the middle of that discussion when you really want to tell your friend or your mom what awful thing your kiddo has done, you have to CHOOSE to swallow those words.  Choose instead to share something you appreciate about your kids.  Focus on the good things he or she has done!

I've even chosen sometimes not to relay to my husband at the end of the day all the mishaps I've had at home with my kids.  Especially if I've already disciplined them!  To recount all the dark deeds of the day only serves to make my husband grumpy toward the kids and to make them feel awful all over again.

Today I'm going to do like the old Johnny Mercer song says and "Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, and latch on to the affirmative."  People need to know that I think the world of my kids.  My KIDS need to know I that I think they're amazing.

Because they are. 

SCHOOL!

Welcome to this week's

All the boxes of crayons, glue sticks, pencils and various other supplies have been labelled with my children's names.  The backpacks are all loaded and parked by the front door.  Special clothes have been set out and are ready to be donned first thing in the morning.

Yep, the first day of school has arrived.

I'm not sure if I am excited or sad.

Is it okay to be BOTH?

You see, there's the part of me that is sad that I'm sending my youngest off to kindergarten.  Partially because he's been my buddy for the last five years.  Kindergarten means he's growing up, innocence is fading.  That little face of his is no longer that of a baby, but a little boy.  But I'm also sad because I no longer get to be the main influence in his day.  I'm not sure I'm ready for others to have so much input in his life!

Okay, I admit, too...I'm also sad to trade in our lazy, sleep-as-late-as-you-want mornings for the rush to get four kids (and one daddy who is a teacher!) out the door on time.  It seems so unfair to wake up a five and six-year-old at 6:30 in the morning! 

On the other hand, I'm a little excited because my kids will finally have STRUCTURE to their days again.  Not that home was total chaos every day.  I'm just not the kind of mom who excels at filling her children's days with fun and engaging activities.  Or planning play dates. 

School takes care of both of those: fun, educational projects and built-in interaction with kids their own age!  It's a win-win!

Mostly, I'm looking forward to finally having some SOLITUDE in my day again.  Time when I can be alone with God and not have to keep one ear cocked to make sure no one is fighting or stuck in the bathroom with no toilet paper.  (I gave up trying have early-morning quiet time years ago...it seems that no matter how early I get up, at least ONE of my kiddos gets up with me!)  Time to devote to study and prayer and writing without feeling guilty for abandoning my children or husband.

And yes, I cannot wait to sit in my tidy living room with my coffee and my Bible, and know that it will STILL BE CLEAN for at least another few hours.

Ahh... I can't wait for the first day of school!

I used to feel guilty for admitting that.  Wouldn't a good mom be sad that she no longer got to spend every waking hour with her children?  Wouldn't a good mom be reluctant to send them off to spend the bulk of their days at school?

For other moms who share my sentiments, my eagerness for school to begin, let me say this: Being a mom is one of the most difficult jobs God ever crafted.  It is exhausting.  But nowhere have I seen the rule that says you have to LOVE it in order to be GOOD at it!

God did not create every mother to be the kind of woman who thrives off of caring for small children...or children of any age, for that matter!  I am not a "natural" mother; I have to work at being motherly.  I adore my children, and I am fierce to protect them and provide for them.  But being a good mom does not necessarily mean that I cherish each and every moment I have with my children.  

What an unreal expectation!

Am I to cherish the days when we're stuck inside because it has rained every day...FOR A WEEK...and my six-year-old daughter is having a shouting match with her older brother?  Am I to love being with my kids when they've decided to make red punch in the bowl that has a hole in it and then carried said bowl to the dining room where the previous owner was nice enough to put down white carpet?  Or how about when the older brother woke the younger brother up WAY too early and now the younger brother is crying every time anyone looks at him wrong?

Do we really have to cherish these moments?

Of course not!

But these are REAL moments, REAL parts of being a mother!

Being a good mom doesn't mean you have to love every minute of motherhood or that you have to want to spend every hour of your day with your children.  Being a good mom means being the mother that God wants you to be and doing what is best for your kids.  For me, that means sending my kids to school where people with a lot more creativity and patience can teach them some things they need to know.  

So, fellow glad-for-school moms, do not lament the fact that you're not like those other moms, the ones who cry sad tears as they drop their kids off for school each morning.  Let your tears of joy slide down your face as you wave to your kids at the bus stop, knowing that you ARE, indeed, a good mom.  You have nurtured and prepared your children for this day, and you will be waiting for them with open arms when they come home.  You will listen to them with every ounce of patience you can muster as they recount their day to you, and you will spend every minute of their "at home" time pouring into them lessons of God's goodness and love... and how to load the dishwasher.

Have a great school year!

My excited second grader!

Brother and sister, ready for their first day of school!

A Prayer For My Children

 It's time for this week's

Tomorrow is enrollment day for my kiddos.  ALL FOUR OF THEM. 

Sniff.

The end of a beautiful stage of life for the Logan family has officially passed.  My oldest will enter Jr. High, and my "baby" will start kindergarten.  No more kiddos at home keeping me company while the others are away, no more early morning snuggles after everyone else has left for school.

Because in just a few short days ALL FOUR of my children will leave this safe little haven called home and instead spend their days learning from someone else.

And I don't just mean their teachers.

Sigh.

I don't even like to THINK about the things they will be exposed to.  Especially my oldest, who is starting at a new school with 400 other students, most of whom we've never met.  And that's just the seventh grade class!  I grew up in a small town, graduating with nearly all of the same 35 people that I started kindergarten with.  So the idea of four hundred kids all in the same class has me more than a little nervous!

It's a hard thing for me to let go of my kiddos and trust that they'll be okay.  The "what if's" poke at me,  taunting me.  What if someone picks on them?  What if they make friends with the "wrong" kids?  What if they don't behave the way I've taught them?  What if...?

And then the Lord reminds me (almost on a daily basis, mind you)..."WHAT IF you just trust Me?"

Hmm.  You've got a point there, Lord.

And so it is with this prayer that I let my children go, into the world where they will be influenced by so many others who have never experienced the love and compassion of our Lord.  TRUSTING that He will guard them and keep them as His own, and bring them home to me each afternoon.

"I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding.  For I want you to understand what really matters, so that you may live pure and blameless lives until the day of Christ’s return. May you always be filled with the fruit of your salvation—the righteous character produced in your life by Jesus Christ—for this will bring much glory and praise to God." Philippians 1:9-11

Now it's your turn: What are you praying for your kids this school year?

Holes

It's Monday, so it's time for this week's Mommy Moment!

I learned an important lesson this weekend: empty holes can be quite dangerous, no matter how shallow they are.

How did I learn this, you ask?  Well, I certainly DIDN'T learn it through observation.  Nope, I got to learn this one through good old personal experience. 

My kiddos dug a hole in the back yard early this spring while I was preparing my garden.  (You know where this is going already, don't you??) They were looking for worms and having quite the good time.  Knowing that I couldn't just leave an empty hole out in my yard, I filled it in with extra potting soil when I re-potted my plants on the front porch.  Assuming the job to be done, I promptly forgot about the hole.

Until I was out picking through my cucumber vines a few nights ago, looking for hidden fruits among the leaves.  (Now you're quite certain where I'm headed, aren't you?) Having searched them all out, I proceeded to jump over the last few vines so as not to step on them.  The dirt I had poured into the hole had settled during our recent rains and left about an inch-and-a-half indentation in the ground.

And my foot found it. (You were right!)

I heard something snap on the way to the ground, so I decided that I would just stay down for a few minutes.  My oldest son went tearing into the house shouting, "MOM JUST BROKE HER ANKLE!"  Which of course brought my husband running back out looking a little panicked.

I am happy to say that it is NOT broken, only sprained (although I am told recovery would actually be quicker if I had broken it!), and I am resigned to a couple of days with an air cast and a pair of crutches. 

Lesson learned: holes, even shallow ones, can be dangerous and painful.

But what in the world does this have to do with parenting?  (Besides the fact that I should make sure my children dig in the sand box and not my back yard from now on...)

Well, I've been thinking lately about how intentional I have been (or not been) with my children.  I've focused a lot of attention on trying to teach them to act and speak with kindness, to eat right and exercise, to pick up after themselves, to be obedient without complaining.  My husband and I have struggled over decisions regarding their education.  We want to do whatever we can to ensure that they will be equipped for life outside our home, and we want them to embrace the morals and values that are close to our hearts.  All very good things.

And then I started thinking about some things that we HAVEN'T been teaching them, especially our oldest, who is an almost-thirteen-year-old boy.  Things like a proper approach to his sexuality.  Or why drugs and alcohol are so bad for us.  Or how to treat women and girls with gentility.  And I started to get overwhelmed.

You mean I have to teach them all of THAT, too?

Sigh.

And this is what God has reminded me: It doesn't matter what or how much I teach my kids, there will always be holes.  I can try to fill those holes with every ounce of wisdom I can obtain, but things will always settle and still leave an emptiness.

And as I (and my ankle) have proven, holes can be dangerous, because they create instability and unsure footing.  The "holes" I leave in what I  instill in my children may just be the inlet that Satan needs to lead them away from the life and the Lord that I so want them to know.

And then it hit me: The reason there are such deep holes in who my children are, compared to who I long for them to be, is that I am still standing on my feet trying to do this by myself.  Oh, sure...Scott and I are doing this together.

But we're both still on our feet when we should be on our knees.

God, the Perfect Father, is more than able to fill in those gaps that we as earthly parents leave in our children.  But we have to surrender control to Him and allow Him to get to work.  We've got to get down on our knees in prayer for our kids.  

And trust me, hitting the ground on purpose is MUCH less painful than ending up there after you've stepped in a hole.

"Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it." -- Provers 22:6

 Check out this resource from Circle of Moms: Scriptures to Pray Over Your Children

A Melted Mess

Last week I asked my husband to help me out with the laundry a little (which he very willingly did!) and put the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer.  I forgot to warn him that my bath scrubbie was in that load and needed to be set aside instead of going into the dryer.  And he didn't notice it as he loaded the dryer, turned it on it's highest setting and started it.

Knowing what happens when plastic gets hot, you can imagine what I found the next day when I pulled my scrubbie from the dryer: it was a shriveled, melted mess.  I attempted to use it in my shower... Let's just say I got a great exfoliation treatment for my WHOLE BODY.  Yikes.

And as I scraped that scrubbie across my tender shoulders, I thought about how sometimes I'm a little rough around the edges, too.  Especially when life applies "heat."

Having four kids can often be a pretty intense thing.  I am usually as cool as can be when I'm dealing with just ONE of the kiddos, even if she's having a meltdown.  (Yes, it's usually my daughter...)  But when you add the other three kids and a time crunch, I begin to have a meltdown of my own.

Kind of like my scrubbie.

I get all hard and abrasive.

And my kids feel my harshness scrape across their spirits as I unleash the anger that has built up under the heat.

I don't WANT to be like this.  I'm like Paul when he said in Romans 7, "I do what I don't want to do."  But sometimes I just can't help it!

I can't help it.  I absolutely CAN NOT.

But God can.  Galatians 5:22 says that the fruit of the Holy Spirit living in me will be "love...patience, kindness, gentleness...self control."

Heat is a funny thing.  Given different situations it can produce very different things.  It melts plastic, but it helps plants to grow.  One it destroys, to the other it gives life.  What I've got to decide is whether I'm going to let the "heat" of difficult circumstances melt me, or whether I'm going to allow it to grow the fruit of the Spirit in my life.

But let's be honest...talking about keeping a good attitude and actually doing it are two different things.  If you're like me, you need some good, practical ideas to help you accomplish this.  I'll share a couple of mine, and then I'd love to hear some of yours!

1) When things get really frantic at my house and I feel like I'm on the verge of a meltdown, I usually stop and breathe a quick prayer: "God, help me deal with this without exploding." 

2) I remind myself that my kiddos are PEOPLE...they have good days and bad days, too, and they don't like to be yelled at any more than I do.

3) Sometimes I give EVERYONE a timeout, whether they need it or not...including myself!  Even if it's just ten minutes, it gives everyone a chance to cool off.

4) I apologize when I blow it.  I think it's important for my kids to see that I know I'm not perfect any more than they are, and that I can accept responsibility for my mistakes and my bad attitude.  Usually that changes the entire atmosphere of the exchange, especially between me and my oldest.

So...that's a little of how I deal with the "heat" of raising four kids.  Will you help a girl out and share your tips and secrets?