Soul Rest

You ever have those days where you do all the things? I knew that yesterday was going to be one of those days. It was a long drive, a birthday celebration, lots of walking, lots of treats and treat food, then more driving, then groceries (I actually had to go into the store and buy my own groceries, ick…at Walmart. Shiver down my spine...), then home to make dinner, etc., etc. We sat down to dinner at 7 O' clock and I was quite pleased with myself. Did it. Yes, it was over an hour later than usual dinner time, but it actually wasn't as bad as I expected it to be. After dinner, my husband and I chatted while the girls got some good outside time. Usually we start the bedtime process around 7:30 pm (did I mention that the alarm clock goes off at 4:30 am? Just checking.), so the girls were on bonus playtime. Then we finally called them in at 8 pm and sent them off to get ready for bed.

This is where my youngest got on the struggle bus. We had talked about maybe playing one of the new games that she had gotten for her birthday and she thought that was still on the table. But it was 8 O' clock. She had been dying to play since she got it a few days earlier and we just kept running out of day. Like we did again. We tried to reason with her that she had run off and used her time outside. I don't know if she was overly tired or if everything in her just truly needed to play that game, but her syncopated sobbing and crocodile tears just broke my mommy heart. It was already late after a long day and we were all trying to get back on a good sleep/wake schedule (like always). She cried through brushing her teeth, flopped herself in bed and covered her head with her new heating blanket. When I finished buttoning up the house I had to dig my sweaty little munchkin out from her heat soaked down comforter. What was revealed was a downcast little lamb. Normally, my youngest is just pure joy. It is who God made her. But not this night. This night, her spark had gone. I hugged her, I kissed her, I tried so hard to make her laugh. We talked about how we would definitely play tomorrow and she reluctantly accepted and agreed like a good girl. But she did not smile. The corner of her mouth turned in an attempt, but she was hurt; her twinkle had been robbed and nothing was working to bring it back. I kissed both girls, conflicted about standing my ground or making myself available to love her the way she needed in that moment. I got all the way to my room, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Angst. Mommy angst. Then I told my husband, “I think this is one of those times where I need to do the thing. I'm going to go play a round of her new game with her.”

I crept back into her room and dangled the game in front of her and asked, “will you play with me?” That was it. That did it. She shot out of bed and hugged me. It was an hour past my bedtime at this point, but what I needed to do that night was tell her that I loved her...with a game, with my time. Over and over she said, in her sweetest little voice that she uses when she feels especially lovey, “thanks for playing with me mommy.” She followed every other show of gratitude with a squeezy hug and that little freckled face looked up at me with hearts in her eyes... there is no way to describe it. When you know that you have loved your kid in the way that only you can and that their bucket is full to the brim because of the choice that you made...? Worth it. What's a little sleep deprivation anyway? One more speed bonus round and she happily tucked into bed, love bucket full, content and ready to willingly float off to dreamland.

Next, I smooched my oldest who was deep into drawing land by now and headed off to wind down with my library book before going to sleep myself.

It was a good book, reminded me of Pride and Prejudice. Just one more chapter. Last one. Okay, this one for sure though...

Thirty minutes later...my oldest came into the room. “Can I sleep in here?” Some yucky Halloween images had apparently snuck into our world and disrupted her ability to calmly slip off to sleep. “Sure, sweetie.” She gratefully tucked herself into the extra sleeping bag next to the bed . As I glanced down I saw that she had propped up her latest amazing drawing creation next to her sleep spot and was contentedly gazing upon it as she prepared to doze off.

I finally put my book down and got up to use the restroom once last time before calling it a night. As I came back into the room, she stood tall, oh so tall, right outside the bathroom door. “I'm hungry!”

“Okay, you can have some milk, banana or peanut butter, but I'm not hanging out.” I tried to sound firm. “Okaaay,” she reluctantly accepted, “but I don't like to be alone,” she trailed off as she looked down. So I stood in the kitchen with my eyes closed and arms around my tall, beautiful goldilocks while she licked peanut butter and slurped milk in my face. I think my body was already starting the first stage of falling asleep; I got shorter. She finished and went to take care of her cup and spoon. I leaned on the wall and ran my finger along one of the many Bible verses on the walls of our house, this one at the corner of the kitchen by the light switch. I was ready to kill the lights asap. I sleepily ran my finger along Matthew 11:28-30...

“Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden...”

I chuckled. Yea...check.

“And I will give you rest.”

He says He will give me rest. I ached for rest.

“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me...”

Learn from Me, from “My example” I felt in my heart. Did Jesus turn the children away? Did Jesus make sleep His priority? Or did He face many tired and hungry days willingly and joyfully so that He could do His Father's will and minister to His children. “Learn from Me.” How did I love?

“For I am gentle and humble in heart.”

Jesus doesn't get snappy or short-fused. He would have gently pulled her in and loved her in her humanness, in her need, in her vulnerability.

“...and you will find rest for your souls.”

Big. Deep. Sigh. I let the corner of the wall hold me up and I opened the depths of my spirit to this “soul rest”. Physical sleep may or may not come, I had learned that (see my blog “Quitting Coffee”), but this soul rest? He promises to give it if we come to Him. I want soul rest.

“For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

Easy. Light. It is not hard to play a game with basic addition and it does not require skill or extreme stamina to stand in the kitchen and sniff peanut butter. It is not a difficult thing to be present and love my kids, but it is a choice that I have to make minute by minute, day by day, often times over my own comfort or fleshly desires.

“Thank You, Lord.”

We turned off the kitchen lights, prayed once more and turned ourselves into fluffy burritos. As we closed our eyes, I heard once more, “Thanks mommy. I love you.” “I love you too baby.”

I snuggled into my bed and exhaled the same sigh of contentment I had heard over an hour earlier.

Soul rest. It was 11 O' clock, but my bucket was full. Because I had filled theirs.

Just as much as my kids need me to take the time to love them, I NEED to pour out my love upon them. I need to walk in my purpose as the only one in all of history who was chosen to be their mom. Me. It's my job, that I was created for and there is nothing, nothing at all that compares to the full bucket of knowing that I went to bed with children who were well loved today and they know it.

Praise Jesus. Thank you for Your words that brought me to this amazing restful place of Truth.

It wasn't just another night of staying up too late. It was a night well spent.

This is my purpose.

Quitting Coffee

It's been a weird season. Not any personal tragedies and actually there has been a lot of really great trips and experiences over these last few months of summer, but now that it is the end of August I can look back and say, “Huh...that was a weird season.” I won't go back too far. A big part of this weirdness has to do with the fact that I have felt compelled, convicted and called to quit coffee. And it may be caffeine too, maybe sugar... I don't know. Let's just start with the coffee. It's been years of this tug, maybe decades if I was able to see it earlier. It could be that the anxiety I began to experience around 12 years old had something to do with the Vanilla Nescafe that I started drinking out of that rectangle tin can around the same time. And well, that was probably also related to the insomnia that had its hooks in me until the good Lord healed me at 36. Yes, you did the math correctly, 24 years of insomnia. Side note, sleep deprivation as a new mom was an old shoe for me, so, ya know, that's... good.

Anyway, that still small Voice, the One that is so gentle and kind, He's been nudging me for a long time. BUT COFFEE GUYS! I am 100% NOT here to tell you to stop drinking coffee. My family has a thick history of heart issues and I have dealt with anxiety for as long as I can remember (which isn't that far back, which I am thinking is probably also related to the sleep deprivation).

But I am not here to play you my tiny violin. I am here to tell a story that has a point and it glorifies God, which is why we are all here, yea? About half way through summer the food sensitivities that my girls and I have been dealing with turned an ugly corner and things that I thought were good-to-go sent my kid into a food-poisoning-like response...while tent camping. This, for the record, is the opposite of awesome. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I did not sleep at all that night. It took another trip a few weeks later to determine the culprit after repeated results. Then one more for good measure with a different trigger which ended with me walking through the Best Western at midnight toting a recycle bucket full of puke. 'Cause who wants to call room service in the middle of the night and say, “Hi, yea, my kid is puking up here, can you come and pick up her bucket of vomit...?” So I made the decision to go for a walk and find an outdoor receptable to deposit said slop into while awkwardly interrupting the guy that was calling his wife as I blooped the nasty bag through the side hole of one of those skinny, shiny trashcans that they have in hotels. Got that image? Good.

So no sleep. Again. Actually, I hadn't really been sleeping through the night ever since that first camping trip. So I did what any logical person would do and I searched scripture to justify my continued coffee drinking with verses, “grace” and intellect. “Thanks, Lord!” I sort of winked and offered a metaphorical thumbs up and cheese ball grin. I got what I wanted.

Then we were watching a movie one night and my heart did like a uh, theatrical pounding on the door, like when the SWAT team knocks. I knew. I knew then that I had trusted in my own understanding and tried to justify something that the Lord was kindly and gently telling me was no longer beneficial or even permissive for me.

“Okay, Lord.” I huffed.

So, over the course of the next couple days, I climbed up and put coffee on the altar before the Lord. “Here you go, Lord. It's Yours.” I then skulked away like an apologetic kid still painfully aware of how wrong it was to justify sin with scripture. “Sorry, Lord.” I knew better. I kicked some dirt and hung my head, knowing what I needed to do.

Guys, I really, really like coffee. Like, I actually like it. Black. Hot. I love how it tastes, the ceremony around it and how it makes me feel. And I LOVE pounding a cup of coffee and then knocking out a kick-butt work out. But before you today, I want the whole world to know... I love Jesus more. And even though it took a while to get it through my thick skull, my heart is to obey and love the Lord above all else. Yes, even coffee.

We all giggle over how we “run” on coffee or java is the only reason that we got out of bed, but it begs the question, “If I am getting through the day on coffee, then how will others see me trusting in the Lord?” Short answer, they don't. They won’t. They’ll see me doing it all in my own flesh. And I was pretty darn good at that for a long time. Now, maybe because I'm older and health complications seem so much more real and possible after you turn forty, or maybe because my kids are older and I'm seeing their long term futures more readily, but I've come to see that it's just not worth it. Not only that, but when I rely on anything other than God, then I miss out on getting to experience His exciting, miraculous provisions; His filling.

So I quit. Probably for the 27th time. But for real this time. No seriously guys. For real, for real.

Ugh, I don't even want to tell anyone because I struggle to believe my own resolve. Lord, it is up to You. Help me to want to obey You. Wince. Put it in my heart to desire You above all else.

Great okay, quit coffee. That's gotta help with my sleep problems!

Commence 4 solid weeks of extreme sleep disruptions.

Oh how that dark elixir sparkled in the cup... 'cause you know that my husband wasn't quitting. That Mr. Coffee would gurgle and sputter and steam and the bright blue light (referred to as the Blue Devil in our house) would blink and twinkle at me in the wee morning hours.

“No! NO. I quit.” Did the coffee just “bwah-ha-ha” at me?!

I kept thinking, “tonight, this will be the night that I actually sleep.” By the way, my Garmin watch pretty much indicated that I was near dead based on my “stress” and “body battery” levels. Then one groggy day as I slogged through my Bible study, I had a thought. “What if this was a testing period?” Physiology and caffeine withdrawals aside, looking at it from a purely spiritual viewpoint, this, I believe was my testing period. “Okay, Chelsea. You are giving up coffee? Good. But what happens when you get tired? What happens when you get really, really tired?” Uuuuuugggggghhhhhh...insert Garlfield comic here, ya know where he is on-his-face-tired and crawling toward the coffee pot.

3 or 4 weeks of this and then one day I awoke with “ting!” and thought, “I think I actually slept!” I have only had a few of these nights and I am still figuring it out, but I truly believe that God gave me this difficult season of fatigue to confirm my decision to obey Him, to strengthen my resolve and to show me that He does truly sustain and strengthen us. Spoiler alert: I did not die. Through that season of sleeplessness I failed to get up at my usual, disciplined 4:45 am. Let’s be honest, I didn’t even try to. I was sleeping in, or at least laying in bed until I couldn't lay in bed anymore. I would still get up and read my Bible, but it wasn't the same. God is still good and He still speaks in His grace and faithfulness, but it's not the same when everyone is up and chattering and the chores start to call and the laundry buzzes.

So yesterday, I did it. I got up with my husband at O' dark thirty and did my early morning study in the still quiet of the dawn and it was uh-mazing! Not necessarily any great revelations, but just peace. Peace and calm. Comfort and relationship. Rest and familiarity with the One I love. Guys, it charged me up. I was so pumped after being filled with God's Word and His love! I ran intervals on the treadmill and even found a new favorite workout song (Christian, Spanish, Rap, Worship...so good.)!

This is how I want to start my days with the God Who Provides, the God Who Sustains. He is good, so, so good. And He drives me forward into the day in a way that coffee never could.

Do you have to quit coffee? No. Maybe. I don't know. But just make sure that you are listening and obeying what He has called you to. You know what it is. It's that thing that just keeps lingering in your mind, coming back like a fly buzzing your head. He put it there for a reason. It is part of your purpose; what you are supposed to do, or not do. Don't be like me and take years to comply with a calling that is custom designed to bless you.

Obey Him and put Christ first. Know that He will sustain you. Know that apart from Him we can do nothing (John 15:5), but through Christ, in His will, there is NOTHING we can't do (Phil 4:13).

When It Burns

In 2017, when I had a toddler and a new babe, we lived in Northern California. It was at this time that I witnessed the worst wildfire season of my lifetime. The Tubbs fire that burned into Coffey Park, Santa Rosa jumped the 101 freeway and ravaged suburbia, consuming 5,643 structures and 22 lives. Entire neighborhoods were destroyed in a way that Californians never could have expected. We lived 2 towns over and watched in suspense wondering what would happen next. Could it come to us? I didn't think so, but I also never though that wildfires could race their way into major metropolitan areas like they did. We continued to wonder, watch and wait, with eyes wide open. The day came when we were put on evacuation ready warning, basically “be ready to leave”. It's a weird dynamic to be facing a potential upheaval of life, yet hubby still had to go to work each day pretending it was just another normal day until something worse reared its ugly head and it turned out NOT to be a normal day. It finally happened that we were put on legit evacuation orders. Just so you can breath, our house, neighborhood and town ended up being just fine, but many were not so fortunate. We were still facing the stark reality that we could potentially face the same sort of loss.

Here is what I want to get at today: something changes in you forever when you have to quickly inventory your life, the house and all that you have accumulated, everything that you have spent time, space and energy managing for years. You look at each piece, or rather a general overview depending on how much time you have and quickly assess, “Would I be okay if this was burned up and I never saw it again?” We were fortunate that we had ample warning, which may have possibly been more confusing, since I had time to just sit with this question and think of more and more layers of things that I might want to consider. Of course we had our vital documents, basic clothes and supplies, baby photos and a few bits of sentimental memorabilia from those who were no longer with us. It all had to fit into our small SUV. For the most part, what really threw me off, was that I was actually okay with letting most of it burn. What?! I realized that, either I would not miss it or it could be easily replaced (i.e. it really wasn't special). It was such a weird feeling to pack everything up and drive away knowing that, like many people had already experienced, we may return to find only ashes.

Fast forward through a few days of waiting, constant news watching and we were able to return home by the end of the week, house unscathed. Not everyone was so lucky and my heart goes out to them for their loss, the difficulty of being displaced, and all of the feelings that they must have had to work through, are maybe still working through. That is not my story and so I cannot speak to it. My story is simply an awakening of sorts and I am here to share with you what this experience revealed to me.

As we arrived home, unpacked, and praised God for protecting our home we settled back into “normal” life (whatever that means!?). It was then that I realized I was actually very unsettled by the many feelings that bubbled to the surface in the following weeks.

And here it is: if I am okay with literally letting this all burn to the ground, THEN WHY DO I EVEN HAVE IT?! Why am I storing it? Why am I managing it? Why am a paying rent or mortgage to house things that I am literally okay with throwing into the fire?

Okay, I get that I still need things to function in day to day life like socks and spatulas, but there was soooooo much that did not add to my ability to function. In fact, much of it prevented me from functioning at my best. If I was watching the movie of my life, I might say that this would be the moment of foreshadowing that would later reveal my propensity toward minimalism, shaped by my life-experiences. Needless to say, I started ruthlessly purging what was in my house and I became highly discriminatory regarding what came into my house. Man! We saved a boat-load of money, too! And what a great time to do this as my oldest was nearly 2 and my youngest just a newborn. Fun side note: my youngest had just been accidentally born at home and since the Social Security office was in the evac area, litte B did not technically “exist” for the first couple months of life. Did you know that, if you have an unplanned birth at home you have to get a note from your doctor who wasn't there? Then I had to procure and take said doctor’s note to the Social Security office when it finally opened and boldly declare, “And thus shall she be!”

Since this experience, we have actually packed up several times in anticipation of evacuating, including one more time of actually driving away. That time, we actually left my husband behind upon his insistence to defend his castle. Rest assured that I death-stared and crazy prayed and pressed him to promise that if the fire got anywhere close to our property that he would get himself to safety and let the house burn. He promised, but I am still not sure that his fingers were not crossed behind his back, captain and ship and all. This time was also a unique experience as we found refuge at my parents house across the valley. With binoculars in hand, we could watch the hot spots on the hill behind our neighborhood flare up just to see the firetrucks wee-ooo-wee-ooo their way over to the burst of flames. It was like watching a twisted, emotionally wrought 80's video game. Woop-woop-woop-woooooooo.

So friend (and self – 'cause I constantly need to be re-reminded), look around and think, all this stuff, would you be okay with letting it burn? Because, guess what? It is going to. It is going to burn. For real. 2 Peter 3:7 tells us, “but by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men.” It is ALL going to burn someday, you guys. Everything except for what is eternal. 1 Corinthians 3:12-15 tells us what will remain after the fires have consumed their lot. “Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work. If any man’s work which he has built on it remains, he will receive a reward. If any man’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire.”

Souls are eternal. Christ, His Word and His purposes are eternal. I recently developed a little questionnaire for myself for decision making, because decision fatigue is fo' real, bruh! Question #1 reads, “Does it have eternal value?” In other words, after the fires, will any shred of it remain? If not, then I need to ask myself what business do I have giving time, attention and resources toward something that will one day be ash.

Look around, what literally fits in your car? What literally fits into eternity? What is going to burn?

Then, could you bear to let it go now rather than carrying it, storing and managing it until that day of its scorching? Just imagine how free and light you might be if you only held onto that which will last, that which has REAL eternal value.

“Only one life,’ twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.”

C.T. Studd from his poem “Only One Life”

Lay It All On the Altar

I know of few passages more difficult than Genesis 22:1-19, where Abraham is called to offer his son, his only son, his long awaited son on the altar before God. One thing that I have found, though, is that if we keep returning to those difficult passages the Lord unpacks the richest truths by the illumination and power of the Holy Spirit when we, in faith, trust that the hard stuff is still true.

I posted a blog a while ago titled “My Children Whom I Love...” and we did some preliminary unpacking of what Hannah went through when she gave her long awaited son, Samuel, back to the Lord. At THREE. Guys, I just can't even. But God. God can enable us and equip us when we step out in faith. Hannah's story is oh so similar to that of our well known father of the faith, Abraham. He was the first. They weren't even called Hebrews yet. Israelites weren't a thing and God hadn't spoken His many many promises into existence quite yet. Abraham hung onto one promise so far; that God would make him the father of many nations (Gensis 17:5). Pretty awesome promise for a 100 year old dude with no kids! We are going to power through the story of God making good on His promise and giving Abe and wifey a son as they turned the century on the clock. The story I want to get to is in Genesis 22 where God calls Abe to give Isaac up. Not just give him up, but sacrifice him with his own two hands, to travel, journey, to spend time en route to enact his own son's destruction, if you will.

In verse 2, God says, “Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.”

To us in modern times, we have, seemingly, no context for this sort of an act, but in those times, pagan cultures were rampant and human sacrifice was likely atrociously common. Could it be that Abe wasn't terribly surprised by this expectation since he had seen it occur all around him? But it never came to that, did it? And God knew. God knew that Isaac would never even get a scratch. I wonder if it wasn't God's way of saying, “look at this act of human sacrifice to appease angry gods... you will NOT be like these people. You will not perform these acts. You will be a people different from the rest of the world.” Basically, “guys, this is NOT how we roll.”

Next, I think we need to look at God's abhorrence of idols, His hatred for them. “But there are no idols in this chapter,” you might say. Oh, but look closer my dear friend. Abraham had waited 100 years for a son. This is not just a man who had a heart to be a daddy, which is an entirely legit longing. This was a man whose family lineage, name, reputation were all at stake in a time where that was all a person's existence hinged on. AND on top of that, I am sure he was crazy protective and in love with this long awaited son of the promise. When God called him to obedience, he put everything on the table, literally. He didn't even hold back his own son. Time for a probing, uncomfortable question, Momma: do we put our love of our kids before our love and obedience to God? Will I stay up late reading stories, wrapping gifts so that Christmas is “magical”? Will I wake early to pack lunches, write love notes and get to the all day little league tournament or ballet recital?... but then do I miss my undisturbed devotion time unto the Lord? Ugh. I know this one is so uncomfortable. To what (whom) do I cling to most tightly? My children or God? Honestly, I feel like a “good mommy” when I say that I would do anything for my kids, even die. But would I do the same for God? Would I let go of it all? Count it all as loss for Christ (Phil 3:8-10)? I may not be bowing down to my children literally, but if they come between me and the Throne of Grace then, in effect, I am displacing my worship to God by devotion to my children and that is the same thing. Worship is giving priority time and attention to anything or anyone in our lives. Who or what is center stage for you?

Now, imagine this all from Isaac's perspective. You are bound and laying on an altar, about to be slain by your own father to appease a god that you may not fully know yet. It doesn't mention a struggle or fight...we can only guess and imagine what was going on in Isaac's head. I mean, he was old enough to take a long journey and carry a stack of wood up a mountain, so he had to be old enough to ponder this act and right and wrong and life and death and... for sure see his life flash before his eyes. Did he arrive at acceptance in those moments upon the cold stone. “This is my fate” kind of thing? He must have been in the middle of his thoughts when the voice boomed, “Abraham! Abraham!” and Dad was like, “Here I am!,” welcoming delay, I am sure. Verse 12-14, “He said, 'Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.' Then Abraham raised his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him a ram caught in the thicket by his horns; and Abraham went and took the ram and offered him up for a burnt offering in the place of his son. Abraham called the name of that place The Lord Will Provide.'”

In. His. Place. Isaac must have breathed the biggest sigh of relief of his life. In his place a ram would be given. A propitiation; something, someone else to satisfy this God that they were just getting to know. And isn't this the gospel? That I was upon my death, facing my total destruction and instead God provided a Lamb. Not just a lamb to tide Him over for a bit, inevitably requiring more for an insatiable god, but THE Lamb, the Perfect Lamb that would fully satisfy the debt to our perfect and holy God. He has such high, such perfect standards for holiness. He knew we couldn't provide such a sacrifice, so in His mercy and grace He did the providing.

God provided Himself the Lamb, His Son, His only begotten Son, Whom He loved (John 3:16). He provided. He took our place and, might I point out, He never asks us to sacrifice in a way that He was not first willing to. And where was Abraham when God provided? He was on the mountain, having taken the journey, walked out steps of faith, prepared and submitted and humbly bowed in worship. When God provided Abraham was literally in the act of obedience and worship. Are you waiting for God to provide? Have you walked out steps of obedience, moved forward on your journey of faith? Are you actively in worship? Or are you just rubbing the lamp, shaking the 8-Ball or waiting for the fairy dust to be sprinkled? Makes me think of this old rhyme: “stay under the spout where the blessings come out.” Be in the place of blessing and provision. Where is that? It is in submissive worship of our good God Who is worthy.

Lastly, God spoke to Abraham in response to his obedience, “now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.” This is how we love God, by not withholding anything from Him, not even our kids, our marriage, our home, our relationships, our health, anything. “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Then in 1 John 3:16, it says, “by this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren.” He did it first and we are to “love one another; as I have loved you,” Christ says in John 13:34.

Abraham was blessed as the father of God's chosen people. “In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have obeyed My voice.” (Genesis 22:18)

Because you have obeyed My voice.

I leave you with these thoughts: have you obeyed His voice, not withholding anything from Him? Remember, we can confidently give over our dearest possessions because we can trust that God is good, God is love and He loves our kids and husbands even more than we do, which is just wild.

But oh, Lord, strengthen my faith that I might obey.

Weed Seasons

One day I was out for a run on a warm day that was well into spring. I love how running clears my head. The push of having to make my feet move forward despite fatigue and the concentration required to convince myself that I am not, in fact, out of breath does wonders for clearing my mind. In a moment of this “clearness of mind” I was thinking quite deeply on the weeds that I was observing along my path. This year the weeds were all tall, wispy, wheat-like weeds. They surely have a name. I don't know it. They are everywhere, growing quickly and prolifically, not discriminating where they grow whatsoever. But you might be surprised to hear that I actually don't mind these weeds and here's why. They are so easy to pull. Just grab the little bushel and they come up, no problem. The roots are weak and do not seem to go very deep at all. So compared to those death spiked weeds that go through even the most expensive gardening gloves, I kind of like them. And here's the other thing, kind of funny, but they are so satisfying to pull! I mean, it comes right up, you can quickly make a difference in the appearance of your yard and it's not exactly back-breaking.

I know, riveting thoughts for a Saturday afternoon run. Bear with me. I got to thinking that, in the almost 8 years of living here, I don't really recall having ever dealt with that specific kind of weed. Not like I keep records or anything, but I remember the death spikes, I know Dandelions, and goat heads are on my radar for obvious reasons. My wonderings continued to wander. So, probably, it would make sense that the different weeds grow based on the different weather fluctuations... or... something like that. We had a really warm bit of weather in the late part of winter. All of nature was confused as things blossomed and flitted only to be frozen out by some really harsh freezes, proving that it was not actually quite Springtime. Yet. Something like that. Something like an early warm and a harsh freeze must have been the perfect growing environment for this particular wheaty weed.

I know that Biblically weeds represent the toil that we must endure to produce crops now, as a consequence of our rebellion in Genesis 1. Much better alternative to being eternally separated from God, if you ask me. I also know that in the Parable of the Sower (Mark 4:19) that the weeds and thorns represent “the worries of the world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the desires for other things [that] enter in and choke the word.” It stands to reason that the “weeds” of life would be different in the different seasons; the things that make life hard, the temptations that we permit ourselves to be exposed to and the struggles that we face because of the, likewise, sinful people that we live with. All different.

What could affect the type of “weeds” in my life? How often am I allowing God's cleansing Word to search my heart and pull weeds when they are small with weak roots? How often do I cover a sin with a big rock hoping that no one will find out, until one day weed-zilla starts to grow out each side of the rock, having already sent its roots into the earth's core? Or what about when my soil (my faith) is shallow and depleted, having been overworked, forsaking Christ's rest and relying on my own efforts? Different weeds, right? When I think of those wheaty weeds, its kind of what I am hoping for in a funny way. Not that I want weeds, but they will come. I'd rather have the kind that are thorn-less, easy to pull and satisfying to see that the work has been done.

Before the Lord, may we all ask:

Lord, affect my heart in such a way that weeds are not permitted to send deep roots, not permitted to hide under rocks and protect me from the sharpest of thorns.

In accounting terms, to jump analogies, we want to keep a short account, right? We can stay caught up on the weeds when we daily ask, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” Psalm 139:23-24

...and perhaps, we will be those people outside in the yard, praising God while pulling weeds.

Do Less.

Do Less.

In my blog post titled “Whatchya-ma-school-it” I boldly and blatantly stated that, “you do not have to do everything that you think that you have to do.” I stand by this statement as a recovering people-pleaser and busyness addict. I was like Mr. Incredible whenever someone asked me to do something. I would be like, “Yea, I've got time.” Then what happened to him after he did all these seemingly “good things”? He was late to his own wedding. I can't help but imagine that his new wife felt less than a priority to the one person who was supposed to cherish her. In my poem “Beautiful, Glorious No” you can see how this useful tool of saying “no” too often goes unused. Then we collapse on the couch, submit ourselves to zombie status in front of the screen because we just “need” to unwind, relax, chill, whatever you call it. We yield to this value-less time all too often feeling justified because we voluntarily subjected ourselves and our families to a crazed level of busyness. There have been so many times when I thought, “Lord, there has got to be more.” Through His grace, which supercedes my stubbornness, He has shown me that there is so much more, but first I have to choose less.

I wish I could remember where I read it, but the analogy goes something like this: In the history of agriculture, man began to cultivate crops and develop strategies for improving yield and production. Along the way, one of the strategies was to provide enrichment for the crops, i.e. fertilizer. Any seasoned gardener knows that you have to “feed” your plants or they will become pale and lack nutritional content. So far, so good. Over time, however, this enrichment has replaced good practices like crop rotation, allowing the land to rest, and patiently waiting for nature to do its thing. Instead of allowing time and space, we, as a culture, have just thrown more fertilizer on the dirt, metaphorically shouting at the earth that it's taking too long to give us the fruit. More. More. More! If a little is good, then more must be better, right? SO. WRONG. Many of us know, now, the damage that we have caused from monocropping; one crop being planted over and over, lacking crop rotation, rest and replenishment. We expect the healthy balance that nature demands to just “work itself out.” Not our best plan.

Now, take this concept and apply it to our kids, to our families and our lifestyles. Enrichment comes in the form of piano lessons, soccer practice, girl scouts, youth group, gymnastics, martial arts, robotics/programming, art classes, and I could go on. All of these activities, I think we could agree, are enriching. But what happens when, instead of rest, downtime and rotating activities through, I just throw more enrichment at my kids? Let's add violin and basketball and ice skating and birthday parties. It would be like if we all stopped eating and only took vitamins and supplements. Many of you are cringing at the idea of giving up real food that you can chew on. Warm and savory. Cold and crisp. Brown powder filled capsules anyone? Yummy.

Enrichment is wonderful when carefully done. A little salt on my dish adds to the flavor and enjoyment of the golden baked potatoes, but if the cap of the salt falls off and dumps the whole contents of the salt shaker onto my dinner plate (like my brothers used to do to me), I think that we can all agree that the dish is ruined.

So, why dear sweet momma, do we continue to “season” our children's lives with more, more, and more? It's too much. We need downtime to allow our kids to be bored so that they can have the space to be creative, like God made them to be. We need unscheduled, unhurried time so that we can leave space to work out feelings and fears. We need a rotation of enrichment here and there to make like sweet.

When my family and I became “pursuant minimalists” back in 2020 (pursuant because I may never actually arrive) I started chopping away. First it was stuff. So, so freeing. I’ll post about that journey at another time. Then, thanks to COVID, every activity ever was removed from our lives as mandate. It forced us to ask, once we started getting back to our “regularly scheduled program”, WHAT do we, in fact, actually want to get back to? And you know what? We didn't go back to much. And it was glorious. Reading on the couch. Free time to hike when it was a beautiful day. Walks around the neighborhood to talk about life. Baking together. Creating something unexpected. GARDENING!!! All these things that we would not have had the bandwidth for if we got back to ALL the extra activities. I'm not saying that you should quit everything. Although it would probably be wonderful. What I am asking, on behalf of your children, (and your inner self that is crying out) is that you would do less. Choose 1 thing to not do. Then maybe one or two more.

Over the seasons, I've signed up for this and that (I claim amnesia) and inevitably the anxiety begins to creep back in and regrets over not having enough time to just live start to take over my thought life. So we get out the ax and start chopping away and it's so good.

Forget FOMO, I'm all about The Joy of Missing Out (great book by Tanya Dalton, BTW).

So take a minute and ask yourself, “Am I really living a full life or am I making up for “malnutrition” by adding another “enriching” activity to our lives?” This is no way to live, Sister.

Slow down and watch the rain storm, draw a picture with your kid, read a book on the couch, go for a walk/bike ride/run/roller skate, bake from scratch, take a nap and show your kids what a full, balanced, healthy life looks like. They only get one pass through childhood. And likewise, we want to be able to cherish motherhood with equal fervor, which requires space and time. Quality time AND quantity time.

Do less.

I triple-doggy-dare you.

…oh yea, I went there.

Justice for you, Mercy for me?

“He struck down some of the men of Beth-shemesh because they had looked into the ark of the Lord. He struck down of all the people, 50,070 men, and the people mourned because the Lord had struck the people with a great slaughter.” 1 Samuel 6:19

Saint Augustine of Hippo made famous the theological concept that the Old Testament is Jesus concealed, and the New Testament is Jesus revealed (my paraphrase). Many Christians tend to linger in the New Testament believing that the Old Testament is ancient stuff for ancient people or maybe just a bunch of Laws that we no longer have to adhere to. But here is the thing, 2 Timothy 3:16-17 says that, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” This means that there is not a single verse in the Word of God that does not have value and purpose. And if I believe John 1:3, “Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made,” which refers to Jesus Christ, then I must conclude that every good thing points to Jesus, is held together by Jesus and serves the purpose of exalting Jesus. By accepting these Biblical truths, it stands to reason that all Biblical text is saturated with Christ. Like a soaked sponge, every bit is dripping with the same substance, which is Jesus Christ.

“And Jesus said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a head of a household, who brings out of his treasure things new and old.” (Matthew 13:52) This verse constantly comes to mind as I traverse through the Old Testament and the Holy Spirit reveals Christ in the most seemingly obscure texts. I was a bit stunned this morning as I read about golden hemoirroids and ornamental rats being sent on their way via nursing momma cows, with no drivers, back to the Israelites so that the Philistines could avoid the abovementioned ailments. Sound absurd? Read the full story in 1 Samuel 6.

I want to zero in on verse 19 today. Momma cows walked themsleves right into an Israelites field upon Divine direction, returning the Ark of the Covenent to God's people, after they lost it, whilst confirming that it was, in fact, God's hand that was against the Philistines. What happened next? Well, the men used the wood of the cart and the cows to sacrifice unto the Lord in praise. So far, so good. Then, the men just HAD to take a peek and make sure that the enemy did not remove the cherished tablets of the 10 Commandments from the golden box. Shockingly (to us) 50, 070 men were slain by God as a result. And I was like, “whaaaat?!” And here is where a good commentary is so valuable. In Jon Courson's Application Commentary, he explains that this is exactly what happens to us when we remove the Mercy Seat from the Law.

You see, the lid of the Ark was the “Mercy Seat,” the place where the Lord met with His people, where the sacrificial blood was sprinkled and the sins of the people were atoned. Romans 3:19-20 says, “Now we know that whatever the Law says, it speaks to those who are under the Law, so that every mouth may be closed and all the world may become accountable to God; because by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified in His sight; for through the Law comes the knowledge of sin.” (Emphasis mine.) Seems like bad news. And it is. But as my good friend used to say, you cannot appreciate the Good News until you fully grasp the Bad News. The Law condemns us, kills us, destroys us, shows us our depravity and demands justice that no human being can deliver. But God...

But God in His MERCY gave us Christ, Jesus Christ and all His mercy becomes ours in faith. He received the punishment for our sins and therefore fulfills the justice that is required for the payment of our sin.

The Mercy Seat IS Jesus Christ.

When the Isrealites were given the Law, they were also given hundreds of years to try and follow it and in this time many received the God-given wisdom to understand that it was not in them to be able to perfectly follow the Law. Although, many Pharisees were under self-righteous dilussion that they could somehow arrive at perfection, even adding to the impossible 613 Laws of Moses via the Talmud. Those who have an accurate understanding of their ability to follow God's Law perfectly will, at some point, conclude that they are, in fact, incapable.

Enter the Good News.

In the KJV, Galatians 3:24 explains that, “Wherefore the Law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith.” The Law was expertly and Divinly designed to show us that we cannot do it on our own. It is Christ and Christ alone that can absorb the full cost of our sin and free us from the penalty of sin and death. He contained it, fulfilled the demand for justice, by putting a lid on it. Praise God for His unbelievable mercy.

I love mercy, I need mercy. I want mercy.

But as a human being with a sinful, flesh nature, I tend to want mercy for me and justice for others. I pull out my little Law book, removing the Mercy Seat and I go through the checklist to see how others have failed me, where they have fallen short. And it is easy to believe that I have good reason to hold them accountable, because, according to the Law, they should be. According to the Law, justice demands it. I want to be validated in holding others to the Law, but I want mercy for myself. When I do this, it causes death. The Law without mercy requires atonement with a life, with blood, ie death.

When these men removed the Mercy Seat, when they removed Jesus Christ from the justice-demanding-Law of God, they caused their own deaths, “a great slaughter.” What a powerful reminder to us. The Law shows us our sin, but if that was all there was, we would remain condemned. It is because of what Christ did on the cross that we are able to dwell in the presence of God, to come boldly before the Throne of Grace (Hebrews 4:16) and we have been emancipated, no longer slaves to sin and death, but instead, we are called children of God (1 John 3:1). So be careful Christian, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. 'Do not judge, and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and it will be given to you. They will pour into your lap a good measure—pressed down, shaken together, and running over. For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return.'”

Beware of removing the lid, the Mercy Seat, from the Law when you look at your brother or sister, and even yourself. The Law MUST come with the Mercy Seat lest we all perish. Praise God that He did not withhold that which is good from us “while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:8).

My Children Whom I Love…

“‘So I have also dedicated him to the Lord; as long as he lives he is dedicated to the Lord.’ And he worshiped the Lord there.” 1 Samuel 1:28

Some parts of the Bible cause my mommy heart to come just completely undone. Abraham offering Isaac to the Lord, yea, I'm still working through that one. That'll be a post for another day. This one too, though. Hannah begged and pleaded for a son. She lived in a time and culture where people widely acknowledged barrenness as a curse from God, or at the very least, the lack of His favor (same thing, yea?). She pours out her heart, praying prayer after prayer, year after painful year, laboring and agonizing as she petitions to the Lord. So much so, that the local priest accuses her of being drunk. When was the last time that you prayed crazy-person style? I mean, it is by no means a prerequisite for God hearing our prayers, but it does, I think, reflect the posture of our hearts, at times. On your face, ugly cry, snot, yelling out. You get the picture. Well, the Bible doesn't tell us that there was any snot, but as a woman who had not gotten to experience the privilege of motherhood, that hole in her heart and her home... I think there might have been snot. Anyway, moving on then.

She offers up her prayers and petitions and then Eli, the priest, encourages her with a blessing that her prayers be answered. And to the glory of God, she conceives a son! Now, back it up. She promised in verse 11 that, if the Lord granted her a son, she would, “give him to the Lord all the days of his life.” Could you imagine, Momma? It is so much easier for me to envision myself turning into a helicopter mom, ferociously protecting my precious, only child. I just can't, outside of the grace of God, imagine that I would be able to open my death grip and drop off my adorable little, squishy toddler at the temple. We are not talking about a teenage man-child, y'all. We are talking maybe three years old. Three! The faithfulness that she demonstrates! Oi! Her trust in the Lord's protection and provision! She literally walks out the idea that we are to love the Lord our God above all else, above everyone else.

She loved the Lord so much that she gave her son, her only son, whom she loved. Familiar? I love how God gave us parenthood to help us better understand His deep, unconditional love for His children. It is by this construct of family, and the subsequent tender hearts that pulse with such vulnerability, that we allow ourselves to love someone THAT much. This story is such a gift to us Momma Bears. I imagine our Good Lord, saying to my swollen-with-love momma heart, “Yes, I want you to give me everything. Even them. Even your children.” Gasp!… Nervous whimper anyone? But, He never asks us to do what He has not also been willing to do. And it is always good. Think for a moment, how He gave His Son, knowing full well what His Beloved would suffer. When we follow His example, He then grows our children in their spiritual walk, protects them, uses them powerfully for His glory and truly exceeds our expectations.

But, seriously? Three? Which brings me to my next point: three was not too young for a boy to begin walking in the ways of the Lord, learning scripture, being taught how to minister to (ie. spend time with) the Lord. In other words, he was not too young to learn how to love God. As he learned to walk with his physical feet, he learned to walk out his faith. As his palate for meat was developed, so his hunger and understanding of God's Word developed. She did not wait until he was on the cusp of adulthood to say, “okay, honey, time to be a big boy and learn this all on your own now, but you can live in my basement while you do. Take your time. Life is so hard.” Ahem. She normalized complete devotion to the Lord from his toddler years, allowing him to aim at becoming a man. (Whew! Maybe we should sit on this one for a minute.) She set his trajectory from the get-go. She knew where to aim her little “arrow”. All he knew was to live his life 100% completely devoted to loving the Lord, serving the Lord and learning His Word. That's what makes a real man.

So, why do we wait? “Oh, the Bible is hard to understand…” Not by the power of the Holy Spirit. “There are events and topics that my child is not ready for in the Bible.” With prayerful discernment, let God work that out.

Here is what I know: my kids do not go to heaven because I love Jesus. They are not guarenteed to make the right choices because they go to Sunday School and they won't stay on the straight and narrow because I tell them to, no matter how smoldering my mom-stare is. It is critical that they fall in love with Christ themselves. It is vital that they develop a hunger and thirst for the Word of God lest they suffer spiritual starvation.

It defies my selfish nature and fearful, worldly logic to let go of my child. These beautiful children came from the Lord, He lovingly gifted them to us, and so we return them to the Lord because His ways are higher and His thoughts are higher (Isaiah 55:8-9) and His plans for them (and me!) are much better than my plans could ever be(Jeremiah 29:11). I don't want my kids to live out anything less than the best that God has for them and so, I HAVE to do the hardest thing that I will ever do and offer my kids back to the Lord, dedicate them to the Lord; as long as they live they are dedicated to the Lord.

“…Where did you glean today?…”

“Where did you glean today and where did you work?” Ruth 2:19

First things first, it was brought to my attention by a good friend that “glean” apparently isn’t in the standard vocabulary of your typical blog reader. Funny. Aggregate culture and blogging don’t seem to have an overwhelming amount of overlap. Go figure. So, gleaning was a practice first implemented by God’s good grace (in Leviticus 19:9-10)for the poor and foreigners. After the field workers harvested the grain of their field once, they could not go over it a second time and were not to harvest into the pockets of the corners. What they missed or skipped over was what we refer to today as a welfare program. Those who were willing to work could go and harvest the remainder from any field, or “glean” what was left. I would like to add a more modern comprehension of this word as it has also taken to mean, that which we collect or pick up along the way in terms of ideas or wisdom, as in, “what did you glean from the sermon today?” Doeth not all people speaketh so?

Okay, got that out of the way. Now, if you haven't read the book of Ruth with a good commentary, like Jon Courson, then you are definitely missing out. This week, I was reading through and this verse or rather, this piece or morsel of this verse, totally struck me. If you are like me, then you are faced with constant decisions. Decision fatigue is such a real thing. Daily I hope and think and pray that I am listening to the Holy Spirit and making decisions that honor God. However, I am excessively proficient when it comes to talking myself into and out of things. Good things, bad things... doesn't matter. I can convince myself to do or not do the same thing in the same day, sometimes even for the same reasons. Man, I am so darn persuasive... but it has caused me to be, I'm afraid, what James 1:8 refers to as “a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways,” or as they say in Chicken Little, “a gutless flip-flopper”. Sigh.

So at times, I find myself begging and pleading God to show me what I should do. HOW do I hear from You, Lord? How do I listen for that Still, Small Voice when my inner voice keeps talking over every. other. voice. This may or may not be, ahem, something that I also need to work on in real life with my real people. I think, oftentimes, that the Lord does speak to me in my early morning quiet time, and I'm like, “Okey dokie, got it all figured out. That's pretty clear, Lord.” Then the day goes on and I'm like, “....buuuuut what about this and what about that and what about them and what about me?...” And before you know it, I can do a total 180 and talk myself right out of the thing that I was so sure of.

Through much reading and digging and studying, I have seen over and over that one of the methods of confirming an answer is to hold it up to the Word of God. Like taking a counterfeit bill and comparing it to the real thing. “Which one of these things is not like the other....?” (Sesame Street anyone?) Find the differences? It is a perfect match or are there more leaves on that flower and a pocket on the boys shirt where there isn't one in the other picture. But seriously, does “my idea” sound like God's good grace? Does this idea seem like it will glorify God and serve others? Will this effort honor my husband and guard my ministry unto my children?

...Or...does it just make sense by the world's standards? In Jonathan Pokluda's podcast episode 344: Obeying the Voice of God he discusses how the voice of the world and the voice of the enemy “makes sense”. “This will make me money”, “I want to protect my investments”, “I have enough time for this”, “I will enjoy this”, “This will bring me pleasure”. Makes sense. Buuuuut, walking in faith rarely “makes sense”. THAT, my friend, is why it is called faith. It doesn't make sense at face value. It is not until we are on the other side of obedience to God that we could have ever imagined that He would work it out that way. In His omniscience He sees the whole picture, He knows the whole time line, what strings need to be tugged and what (or who!) needs to be added or eliminated, and it is in His infinite creativity that He works it all out.

Let's bring this full circle. “Where did you glean today and where did you work?” What ideas did you pick up? What voices are you listening to? What worldview are you allowing to shape your understanding of what's next for you? Where did you work today? Did you put forth efforts and grind today in the world's economy, pursuing that which the world pursues?

Or did you glean from the Word of God, filling your mind with Truth, Wisdom and Understanding. When I lay this foundation in my heart before the sun comes up, before my kids roll out of bed, then I am better able to answer, “Does this sound like my loving Shepherd? Should I pursue this 'work'? And to what end?”

Girl (or Dude, as the case may be), as the thoughts run wildly through your head, you pursue this or that, you expend these efforts toward a goal, ask yourself, “Where did I glean today and where have I worked?” By this metric, this straight-edge, we can better perceive where we have veered from what is straight (and narrow), right and true. And then, in turn, course correct.

May the good Lord bless you, Friend, with a sound mind today in Christ Jesus.

The Advent of Learning

In episode #250 of Sarah Mackenzie's Read-Aloud Revival Podcast she challenges the idea that we “cover” ideas or topics. She pulls it apart, questioning this approach; that we somehow cover over, or cover up a topic. She goes on to talk about uncovering a topic or idea instead. This got me thinking of advent. As we get ready to head into the holidays, we all look forward to our advent calendars. We gather around to see what piece of chocolate we each get or which ornament goes onto our Jesse tree. Shouldn't learning be like that? As the kids ask, “can we do our advent calendar?”... Don't we want them to ask, “Can we uncover some new learning now?” I imagine a puzzle board covering up yet another image underneath. With each puzzle piece removed in reverse fashion, a new picture is revealed. What is it? What does it look like? What does it remind you of? Everyone gets excited when a whole area is uncovered to reveal some identified aspect or character of the larger picture.

It begs the question: What happens when we cover material? What happens when we cover material within a specified period of time? Have you ever seen what happens when you hand out a coloring sheet and let the kids know that there are 5 minutes left in Sunday School? The kids will take a crayon and scribble the whole paper over. It is “covered” in a sense, but because they were made aware of the time constraint there was no regard for the quality of work, the enjoyment in the process or time to consider what might become of this so-called art piece. In fact, I suggest that this is worse than no coloring sheet at all. Honestly, we have wasted a perfectly good color sheet, used crayons up to no enjoyment and even taken time that could have been better spent remembering our daily verse or just connecting with the kids. The color sheet was checked of the list, the time used up and no one is any better off. Instead, everyone missed an opportunity for fellowship or deepening of the lesson already taught.

This idea, I believe, richly illustrates the crime of simply “covering” material while a timeline compels us toward completion.

Take the same coloring sheet at the beginning of the class. If given no agenda or timeline, the kids are likely to spend more time (as kids have not yet developed the notion that there exists an ominous ticking clock). The kids are likely to fill in more or all of the white spaces with intention and attention. Given time, they are likely to develop an idea of who they would like to give their new masterpiece to. With the recipient in mind, the art is often catered to the liking of the recipient. Hearts for mom, an added hand holding stick-figure for Grandma. The color sheet was not simply “covered”, it was entered into, embraced, explored and drawn out. The enjoyment is apparent and the time and care is evident. Each unique color sheet readily offering up information of indiviual characteristics and tendencies of the children.

So I ask, to what end do we aspire? A stack of scribbled worksheets representing the culmination of a “completed” school year? (Into the recycle bin they go without a second thought.) Or shall we strive to cultivate one carefully and intentionally crafted piece in which our kids proudly display their skills and hold space to address places of struggle? This requires time and space to be certain, but isn't it worth it in the end. Isn't this the point of parenting?

To cover or uncover?

And Jesus said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a head of a household, who brings out of his treasure new things and old.” Matthew 13:52

Time - part 1

Never enough time.

Running out of time.

Time goes by too quickly.

Time flies when you are having fun.

Do we not view time as a cranky and stingy old warden? Never allowing us our “fair” portion?

Truth be told, time was God's idea. God limited us, placing bookends on our rebellion and our time in this fallen world. Upon the entrance of sin, He could have, and perhaps should have, instantly separated Himself from all that is unholy (that's us). This would have been just and righteous had He done this.

But God...

God created time. Time being a physical limitation that we experience and He does not. He created it for our benefit. Had He not created time then we would have been subject to eternal separation from this Holy God. By compartmentalizing events and beings into time we could, along the timeline, receive opportunity to repent and receive salvation. He stepped into time to affect change upon our condition of despair. In doing this, He exposed our depravity and revealed His holiness; making a way, even becoming the Way. Even the Way, a journey, or a path implies the necessity of time passage, time to traverse and cover ground. Time was required for His plan of redemption. Time was possibly one of the greatest displays of His mercy known to man, entirely taken for granted and consistently seen in a negative light. In His grace and mercy, He created a LIMITED system to encapsulate the falleness of created beings, while maintaining His sovereignty and power over it. Our suffering seems to extend far beyond our choosing, but we are so limited in our human comprehension of godly things. All glory goes to God for His beautiful, merciful limitation of time which consistently reveals His full authority and providence over all creation. This life may be hard, there will be pain and trials, but they are limited to this life and He says unto all these things, “You may come this far and no farther.”

Thank you Lord for limiting me with time.

 “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

 2 Corinthians 4:17-18

Devotional Life

“Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed.” 

Mark 1:35

…and it struck me, how much more then, do we need to rise up early and spend time with the Lord?

It has taken more years than I would like to admit. I am still so far from perfect, but I have come to find that life just does not go as smoothly when I do not start my day submerged in the Word of God. Like the title of my new children’s book says, “My Heart Needs a Bath.” Every day I need to be washed in the Word of God.

It surely looks different for everyone, but here is what my ideal morning looks like. Sometimes I hit this mark and sometimes not so much. More and more I am finding that I hunger and thirst for this time and it is no longer a “have-to” but a “get-to”.

Let me back up and take a minute to discuss the importance of night-before prep. It takes less than 5 minutes, but it sets me up for success and eliminates distractions in the early morning hours. So I prep my tea and fill the tea pot so that it is ready to go (RIP coffee… that’s a post for another day). I set up my reading space. For me it is the kitchen table because… because ALL. THE. BOOKS. I put a blanket and pillow on my chair so that I can read comfortably on my own little tuffet (@ all you young’uns-that’s a cushy chair, Mother Goose style). I set out my Bible, of course, a notebook, a devotional and the relevant Bible commentary. For now I have been using Jon Courson’s Application Commmentary. I have been going through this for almost 4 years and have not yet exhausted it as a resource. I also have a little heat dish nearby in the winter because, honestly, it is just hard to get out of my warm bed. So, that is all the night before. All these books rest on the shelf next to the kitchen table and it’s no hassle to get it out. This way everything is ready to go the next morning when I am tired and maybe not all there yet. No excuses.

5 am - I wake up. If I want alone time with the Lord then this is when it happens in my household. My youngest will be up sometime between 6 and 7 am and I want to greet her with a smile and hug, not grumbling from under my covers that, “Mommy is still resting.”

I start the tea kettle and sit down on said tuffet to pray. Always pray first. I need the Holy Spirit to be my Teacher and lead me in understanding. If I try and do it all on my own then my eyes cross and my head spins, might even fall asleep in my chair. Just being honest. BUT by the power of the Holy Spirit words align, thoughts are clear and I gain access to my “instructions” for the day through my time of reading and praying.

Once I’ve prayed and the tea pot has whistled, then I am all set to jump in. I start with a devotional or sometimes just a godly book that I read through “devotional style”, i.e. one chapter or section at a time. The devo is like priming the pump and it gives my brain and heart a chance to catch up with the clock. I want to give my best to the Lord and after this I feel like I am fully present.

I open my Bible to wherever the ribbon has been left, going through the Bible one chapter at a time. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I started in the Gospel of John several years ago, then read the rest of the Gospels, the remainder of the New Testament and then finally began in Genesis. I have done this once all the way through. It took me about 3 years and I am now half way through for the second time, praise God!

If children are still sleeping after I have read scripture, then I pull out the relevant commentary to see what additional understanding I can add to my wheel house. This is where old customs are explained, money and measurements interpreted and the rich symbolism is drawn out for me. I love it. You guys, the Bible is just so cool.

All along I am highlighting, underlining and writing down anything that jumps out at me. This is how I “meditate” on the Word. I once read that writing down something is the same as repeating it seven times to yourself. What a great way to really burrow God’s Truth down into our hearts! Especially, when you have glitter pens!

Then I pray again. I pray over what God has revealed to me, that He would enable me to walk it out. I pray for the salvation of those who do not yet know the Lord, by name. I pray for my husband and his job, my children, their walk and future husbands and I pray for extended family. Whatever else the Lord puts on my heart, I lift it up to Him and pray His will.

Then, if the kids STILL are asleep (rare, so rare), I will lay my blanket on the floor, kneel down and sing some hymns or turn on worship music in praise of our Good God. This is possibly my favorite part. I know. I know. I just got weird. But I triple doggy dare you to try it sometime and see if it doesn’t change the trajectory of your whole day. “What if someone sees me?” Great! Even better! Can I tell you that there is nothing sweeter to me than when I feel my kiddos come out from their slumber and cuddle up to me while I give praise to the Lord. And if you really want to be moved to tears, just wait for the day that you hear that little voice singing along with yours, “nothing but the blood of Jesus.” “Sweet” isn’t a tender enough word for this experience.

I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE A LOT. Remember, I said that this was my ideal. It is what I aim for. And you know what? Sometimes I hit that mark and the more that I hit it, the more I desire to, crave it.

You likely won’t start here. I didn’t. But build towards something like it one brick at a time. God’s Word always accomplishes what it sets out to accomplish (Isaiah 55:11 paraphrased).

Start somewhere.

Do something.

Never nothing.

…and watch your appetite for time with our Good Shepherd develop as you are fed the most nourishing spiritual food that you could ever imagine.

God is good!

“I have so much to do that I shall have to spend the first three hours in prayer.” 

~Martin Luther

Books! Books! We love books!

Disclaimer: Some of these books are obviously faith based and I am happy to point people to authors that honor God in their writing. Some of these books are not necessarily faith based but have offered direction for our family on our homeschooling journey or for home management and so I have listed them here. Always read with discernment and spit out any portions that do not align with the Word of God, which is the ONLY book that is wholly trustworthy. Otherwise, we are required as Christian parents to pray that the Holy Spirit will always guide us in discernment. Happy reading!

Books for Parents

1. THE BIBLE!…always and everyday for every topic ever.

2. John Holt - How Children Learn

3. The 5-Hour School Week - Kaleena Amuchastegui, Aaron Amuchastegui‍ ‍

4. Sandra Dodd’s Big Book of Unschooling - Sandra Dodd

5. The Unschooling Handbook - Mary Griffith

6. Teaching From Rest – Sarah Mackenzie

7. There’s No Such Thing As Bad Weather – Linda McGurk

8. Raising Outdoor Kids in an Indoor World - Steven Rinella ‍ ‍

9. M is for Mamma - Abbie Halberstadt

10. Lysa Terkeurst - The Best Yes

11. How to Manage Your Home Without Losing Your Mind - Dana K. White ‍ ‍

12. The Life-Changing Art of Tidying Up – Marie Kondo

13. The Courage to Be Disliked - Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga‍ ‍

14. Codependent No More - Melody Beattie

15. One Thousand Gifts – Ann Voskamp

16. Simplicity Parenting - Kim John Payne

17. Don't Make Me Count to Three – Ginger Plowman

18. For Women Only – Shaunti Feldhahn ‍ ‍

19. 5 Minute Devotions for the Homeschool Mom – Tina Nahid

20. Lies Women Believe: And the Truth that Sets Them Free - Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth

21. Adorned: Living Out the Beauty of the Gospel Together - Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth

22. Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World - Joanna Weaver
    

    Books for the kids...

    -Little Pilgrim's Big Journey I, II, & III - Tyler Van Halteren (Children's adaptation of Pilgrim's Progress)

    -Sammy and His Shepherd – Susan Hunt

    -The Treasure Tree - John Trent

    -The Fruit Tree - Mark Restaino

    -The Biggest Story: How the Snake Crusher Brings Us Back to the Garden - Kevin DeYoung

    -Max Lucado’s Wemmicks Collection

    -The Oak Inside the Acorn - Max Lucado

    -Because I Love You - Max Lucado

    -You Are Special - Max Lucado

    -The Tale of Three Trees - Angela Elwell Hunt

    -Tuttle Twins Series - Connor Boyack (available as individual books)

    -Junior Series - Dave Ramsey

    -The Courageous Series - The Voice of the Martyrs

    -The Prince Warriors (4 book series)- Priscilla Shirer andGina Detwiler
    

    I pray that through the filling of God’s Word, these books would reflect an outpouring of Christ’s truth 

    and love into a deeply rich reading time for you and your kiddos.

Mommy One-Liners

I don’t know about you, but I get to the point with my kids or rather my parenting where I am so sick of hearing myself. Like, “Yuck! I cannot believe how naggy I sound!” I get so frustrated with repeatedly explaining things over and over again, ad nauseam. Think about that phase. Dictionairy.com defines it as, “referring to something that has been done or repeated so often that it has become annoying or tiresome.” Naseua. It makes me sick. Heart sick. Soul sick. I am literally making myself nauseous with my own talking. Sad face. Imagine how my kids feel!

Enter the one-liners. At some point as the kids have grown out of toddler-hood and we deal with new opportunities to learn (euphemism for a problem), we are required to discuss why we don’t do something, what we should do differently and why that is important. Talk, talk, talk, talk. “But whyyyyyyy?” Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Follow this with reluctant or willing acceptance, but acceptance nonetheless. Dr. Scott Turansky in his book titled “Parenting is Heart Work” explains that this is behavior modification, but it fails to change the heart of the child.

When I took statistics at the Junior College, our professor, who looked more like a student with a backpack full of ego, made us do everything long hand first. STATISTICS. I don’t know if y’all realize how much work it is to average out large sample sizes and then… well, I will spare you the math lesson, but know that it was a ridiculous amount of work. Then finally, after we had struggled and become excessively frustrated and bored with the process, he would deliver the gift-wrapped, long awaited formula (hallelujah choir). The formula encapsulated the entire process of long handed work in one quaint chunk of variables and symbols. This tortuous process was not greatly enjoyed by his students, especially once we caught onto his methods. We began to sense the agonizing work of a new concept looming around the corner.

However.

However, once we received the formula, we had a deep understanding of how it worked and why we needed it. The formula itself carried with it a long-winded explanation that we did not need to rehash every single time we used it. We had gone through the process of developing the understanding, the need. There was comprehension and application built into it at this point.

That is how Mommy-one-liners work. As we enter into a new topic of childhood/mommyhood we have a lot of work to do. We discuss the problem, we talk about our sinful nature that we must fight against, we explore options that will aid in keeping the peace, we divulge frustrations and somewhere along the line we arrive at a linguistically concise synopsis of all of those thoughts; a one-liner, if you will. One little sentence or idea that encapsulates all that we unraveled in the process. So, when I bust out a one-liner my kids know what it means, they know how to apply it. The quaint phrase triggers a heart response. They know where I stand and where I won’t budge. This spares us both the lecture and the time that it takes away from life and fun.

This method, for us, has become so very effective. There is little to no argument, and I feel like we have all grown in wisdom more readily and quickly as it pertains to the situation at hand. We have been able to apply a formula of sorts to that type of problem rather than having to learn through the struggle method for every single variation of that problem. I detest the exasperated attempts to explain again; “I already told you,” or “we have already discussed this,” (picture frazzled mommy here). Instead, I am able to confidently deliver one familiar phrase that my children already understand. Should they need reminding, it is a rather short explanation with more or less ready acceptance because, in our world, in our little family, these truths and concepts have become fact, established and foundational, i.e. not up for debate.

Here are some of my go-to Mommy One-Liners:

“Try again.”

“We can do hard things.”

“Consider others as more important than yourself.”

“I take you to lots of play places, this is not one of them.”

“We can definitely do that soon, but today is not that day.”

“Little, by little, we soon gain much.”

…and there are so many more gems!

Keep your eyes peeled for my Mommy One-Liners book in the future detailing all of our favorite one-liners along with the thought and heart behind them.

Whatchya-ma-school-it

“So what kind of curriculum do you use?”

Deep breath. They mean well. I know that they do.

Do I bother trying to explain…?

I suppose that we have to claim the term “homeschoolers,” since we don’t send our kids anywhere for a formal education. That is a broad category. So what do I say to the other homeschool mom at the park when she asks what curriculum we use? Honestly, I usually kind of chuckle first. Curricula is so far in my rear view at this point. Well, we are “unschoolers” if I have to pick a name, but for those outside of this seemingly extreme circle, the term may imply negligence, which is on the opposite side of the spectrum from what we actually do. For those deep inside this funky little circle it may seem like a misnomer since we do have a bedtime, my kids don’t get to play videogames to their heart's content and Poptarts are never a permissable dinner option.

To those who think we are simply skipping school, I triple-dog-dare you to join me and my kids for a week, or even a day and see if you can keep up (insert eyebrow waggle here). “Wild-schooling” sounds fun and I would like to say that we pass most days in nature, but not always. “Life-schooling” may be getting closer. I don’t know what you call it, and I don’t know that I much care.

“We don’t dooo school,” my youngest started telling people when she was six and spunky. This was after I attempted to explain to her that we were going to put the brakes on workbooks and classwork. Mind you, she said these words with all the hip-shaking, hillbilly swagger she could muster. Hilarious as it is to watch people’s reactions, I surely don’t know where the southern drawl came from. So, no, we don’t “do” school. We do everything we want to do and not too much we don’t. Sound too simple? I’m sure it does. Here is the thing, people, you do not have to do all the things that you feel like you have to do. Again. You do not have to do all the things that you feel like you have to do. Yes, I wrote that twice. It’s a lot of small words, but a big idea. I want you to get it. Really get it.

Is learning a musical instrument great for stimulating the brain and increasing your child’s mental capacity? I’m sure it is. I know it is. I am sure that there are countless articles proving such. Does it feel wonderful to get in the car at dinner time, shove food down everyone’s throats as you rush, once again to a lesson, hoping that your kid pays attention and loves it ‘cause it costs as much as the weekly groceries? Hmmmm…

I’m not saying don’t do music lessons, if you love it, if they love it, if it adds value to your lives, then you should absolutely do it. Make it happen. However, if it feels like another feather that you are obligated to place in your accomplished-momma-hat, then skip it.

So, maybe we don’t have a name, someday I’ll write a book called “Whatchya-ma-school-it”. If you so chose to embrace this idea or any idea that I peddle for that matter, you are going to need to change how you think. I had to, big time. It is likely that my jump was significantly larger than what I am asking of you. Education doesn’t happen in a box as much as breathing doesn’t only happen in yoga class. You do it all day long. Sometimes you are more focused and engaged and sometimes it is more passive. If you entirely stop all forms of learning, it is because you are now dead. Fact.

Right where you are, take a moment to stop and think. Look at the books on your shelf. How are books made? Learn about it. Maybe you are reading this on a device, how is information stored? Sitting on a couch? Do all cultures use couches? Seems American to me. Wearing blue jeans? When did that become popular? Spoiler alert - it was the gold rush and they primarily originated in France or at least the material did. Hear a dog barking? Read about the domestication of dogs. Or don’t read, talk about it. Think about it. Wonder about it. Have ideas about it. Maybe read about it later. Or don’t. But, seriously, just look around. If you start looking for opportunities to learn, to teach, then you won’t ever need to lean on a preplanned worksheet again. Learn about whatever question you have right now, because you will learn in a dynamic way, a way that causes you to comprehend the subject matter and retain the information so much better than doing Lesson 17, page 90 on the earth’s crust. The earth’s crust is AWESOME! But you may miss out on a big ol’ chunk of wonder and awe when you attempt to convey it through a multiple choice reading comprehension worksheet that they have to do that day.

Ramble. Ramble. Ramble. This is the life my family lives. This is the life my family loves. Lots of rambling. Lots of reading (voluntarily because we LOVE books). And I love it. They love it. Sometimes we discuss gravity and momentum at great length and sometimes we look up Johnny B. Goode as performed by Marty McFly. Sometimes that’s all in the same five minutes because learning is as natural as a great conversation when you feel ancy to add to, build upon, interject and go down rabbit holes. How I love a good digression!

So, consider battling less and having more great conversations and call us what you will. For now, I have grown quite fond of “whatchya-ma-schoolers”.

"Knowledge which is acquired under compulsion has no hold on the mind. 

Therefore do not use compulsion, but let early education be rather a sort of amusement;

this will better enable you to find the natural bent of the child.” 

~Plato