My Boys – they’re not so little anymore

My Boys – they’re not so little anymore

My boys are growing up, and always want to be on the move now, so I filled our summer schedule to the brim. The teenager is especially fond of chasing fun. Slow days at home grow tiresome for him. But in the midst of all the going, I’m holding tight to the not so distant past, and all the memories of slow afternoons doing crafts and playing dress-up and eating popsicles when they were small. Tonight I came across a sweet little journal entry from four years ago, and it made me all weepy. I just had to share it here, for those of you still knee deep in park dates and naptimes.     (March 2014) The other night I peeked in on my middle-est, long after he was supposed to be asleep. Instead of sleeping he was playing, propped up on his elbow, adjusting the 30-some mini-figures on his nightstand. As he worked he sang quietly to himself, “I won’t grow up… I don’t want to go to school… just to learn to be a parrot… and recite a silly rule…” I’ve been thinking of the story of Peter Pan lately myself. My name is Wendy. And the name Wendy was first imagined, penned and introduced to the world by Scottish novelist and playwright J.M. Barrie. Audiences in England and America alike fell in love with Peter, the boy who never grew up, and Wendy, the lost boys’ play mother. Standing on the cusp of a new season, I’ve been thinking of Wendy Darling and her lost boys. How dear she was to them, to darn their socks, tell them stories...
disciple before you discipline

disciple before you discipline

When my first-born was a toddler, and his baby brother napped in a bassinet nearby, we would draw together, talk together, read together, be together. We memorized Scripture songs and prayed for our loved ones, filled sticker books, laid out the tracks for Thomas the Tank Engine, made cookies for neighbors, and often walked the mile to our local church. And everywhere we went, every time we sat down, each nap-time as we laid down and rose up again, I discipled my child.     “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand and they shall be as frontals on your forehead. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” Deuteronomy 6:4-9   There’s a holy order to growing up in Christ, and there’s an order to our children growing up, too. It’s not as elusive as it seems on most long parenting days. It’s actually quite simple. First we disciple them, then we layer in discipline, and finally we pull back our need to discipline as they grow in self-discipline. DISCIPLE DISCIPLINE SELF-DISCIPLINE Read more about each important...
Because we all end up bowed down, low to the ground, eventually

Because we all end up bowed down, low to the ground, eventually

My posture these days is running, standing, and going. My posture is muscular and active –  throwing people and priorities out of the way and out of my day because the school bell is set to ring. There’s very little slowing down and kneeling down and falling down prostrate on the floor in quiet surrender because… well… Life.     There is no time to fill up our souls with God’s beauty before the sun rises – before my sons rise – and so we rush into life lacking beauty. Beauty within and beauty flowing out into the lives of our little people. We throw make-up on our faces at stoplights, but we can’t cake it on thick enough that it eeks it’s way down through our pores and into our souls. True beauty doesn’t work that way. It’s got to start deep within, and work it’s way up and out. But we’re living lives that are much too busy for such things. Hurried, harried, and horrible: they go together. But hurried and holy rarely co-exist. Holy and hallowed and hushed, now those are true companions. They meet together in the morning hours before the sun steals past the beauty of dawn. We need to join them there. We need to fellowship with the Holy One – slowing down, sitting down, and coming down off our cram-packed agendas to seek Him on the floor. On the floor. Because that’s where every person is going to end up, eventually. Either on purpose, prostrating oneself in worship, intentionally in the morning hours; or at night in a tearful puddle; or, and this is a frightening thought,...
He gently leads us

He gently leads us

Today is my husband’s 40th birthday! Yesterday was also HUGE because I sent a complete book manuscript into my publisher. And tomorrow is already hanging heavy over my head because I’m scheduled to speak at a local MOPS group. Needless to say, I have a few things on my mind that aren’t about mothering my little crew. I have thoughts and commitments beyond being a fully engaged Face-to-Face interacting, faith building, dinner making, mess cleaning, boo-boo kissing mom! And it’s all good! Truly. God doesn’t just call us to one role at a time – especially moms! We wear a million different hats every long mothering day. Taxi driver, teacher, bible study leader, accountant, lover, disciplinarian, cook, maid, manager, special event coordinator… Even if you’re a stay-at-home mom, you’re home with lots of things going on within your family and within your own multi-faceted life. And I commend you for trying to make it all work, all the while attempting to stay present and patient toward your people. This season of life takes a whole lot of muscle – as we try to do it all! But it also requires a whole lot of surrender! In the busyness of everything I have going on this week I am meditating and believing this beautiful picture of motherhood given to us in scripture:     There are days that I feel completely overwhelmed (those are usually the days I snap – when the children’s childish ways are simply too much for me to handle.) There are the days I slow down to seek the Lord. I ask Him if I’m doing...
Picture post as we wrap up summer

Picture post as we wrap up summer

I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth… but I’ve been teetering on the edge these summer days.   No. Not true. I’ve simply been busy. All good kinds of busy. Busy loving my kids, cooking my husband’s favorite meals, taking family vacations and throwing a big baptism party in the pouring down rain for our youngest son. Add to that I’m writing a book about the glory and the gory of motherhood – so I’m busy living it first, then writing it down. A book that has a whole lot to do with these hectic yet heavenly home making, home schooling, home dwelling years. Yeah, we’ve been  busy this summer.   So here’s a little picture post to highlight the faces and the places I’ve been loving these past few months.     Needless to say, we’ve had a terrible time! Now we’re heading into another school year with Caleb starting sixth grade, Brody in fourth, and Asher growing up and into second.   Thanks for indulging me this picture post. I’m rather smitten with my little...
Over-Stimulated Children – Over-Stimulated Mom

Over-Stimulated Children – Over-Stimulated Mom

I walked into the sterile room with florescent lights, and draped an extra blanket over the top of my sleeping baby’s stroller. Only four weeks old, he slept most of every day (thoughtfully preserving his strength for our midnight bonding sessions). We waited so long for the pediatrician I eventually fell asleep in the exam room’s plastic blue chair, slumped over like a worn rag doll. When the doctor walked in I startled awake and smiled awkwardly. He nodded like I wasn’t the first new mom to doze off waiting on him.   Over the next ten minutes he asked me a litany of questions about how the baby was sleeping and feeding and pooping. He worked his way through a clip-board list of details and when he finished his questions (but before rousing my baby to count his fingers and toes) he asked me two surprising questions. First, he asked me if I’d yet had a date with my husband since the birth. I said no, of course, the child was only one month old after all. So he wrote me a prescription for a date night and placed it in my hand. “Take one of these a month, once a week is even better, but in the very least once a month. I’ll check in on you at your son’s three month check up. This is for your health. It’s just one of the thing that you and your husband need to do to have a healthy marriage… therefore it’s what your son needs too. And I’m his Doctor.”   Children need their parents to date. Click To Tweet   Then came the Doctor’s second question. “Did you hang a...