Looking Back to Re-label Failure

Friday was our last day of homeschooling. Summertime has officially arrived in all its glory, but before we could fully jump into it, I knew that I needed to close out the homeschooling year, especially because Caleb and I have decided that in the fall we're going to send our now kindergarten and second grade daughters to public school for a year. I knew we needed closure.

This year of homeschooling hasn't been as easy or as...'thriving' as I would have imagined it to be. I knew I wanted to homeschool; I also knew I was called to do it for this year. But I found myself to be more impatient, more bothered, more unsure and overwhelmed, more confused by figuring out the balance of all that I had to do than I imagined I'd be. When people have asked me, "How's homeschooling?" I've often replied, "Honestly, it feels like a discipline. It feels like dragging myself out of bed in the morning when I don't really want to go to the gym, but running anyway. It feels like continuing to run when I just want to stop and walk."

I think the fact that this year wasn't often 'easy and breezy' for me internally has led me to sometimes feel like somewhat of a failure, or that this year was quite possibly a failure. It's like I've thought that my struggle has disqualified me for success.

So, like I said, summer was coming closer and closer, and our last days rolled around, and I knew I had to bring closure to our year together.

I decided to take each of my girls out on a date separately...with me, "Mrs. Teacher." I wanted to help them see how much they had grown throughout the year, so I brought samples of their work from the beginning of the year, the middle of the year, and now. We looked together at how they've progressed. We looked over their journals and writing samples.

I also wanted to let each of them in on some of my mixed feelings about the sweetness and hardness of our first experience of homeschool ending. So we talked together about my emotions surrounding saying goodbye to "Sassafras School of Discovery" for now. We talked about our excitement for summer, and about what we each felt about public school next year. We cried together as "Mrs Teacher" said goodbye to them...and again as I told them that we were officially all done going up to our school room on the third floor of our house (for now). I gave them each a gift, showed them a note I had written to them as their teacher, and prayed for them.

And do you know what? I didn't really plan it out this way- I had just wanted to bring good closure to our year together- but something changed in my heart as I spent that time with my girls.

There was something healing in the looking back, in the honoring of how they had grown, even in the remembering together of how "Mrs. Teacher" had sometimes been grumpy and hadn't known what to do (but that they had been kind and gracious to her as she learned to be a homeschool teacher.)

It was like something loosened inside of my heart, something that had been clenched up all year, something that was wondering if I was failing, scared to death that I wasn't good enough, woman enough, mom enough, to succeed. But as we looked back on how the Lord had carried us through it all, through the overwhelmed times, through the stretched times, and had even caused us to grow and thrive, I was able to see the Lord's goodness where I hadn't in the day-to-day moments.

And I was able to see that the year, was NOT, in fact, a failure. And neither was I. The struggle didn't disqualify me. The struggle was a part of my success, because it was part of how all three of us grew in the middle of the discipline of homeschool.

--Sarah Howard

When I Don't Like the Mother I'm Being

I'm kind of in the 'home stretch' of my first year of homeschooling. 

It's almost May and I am SO ending when the public schools end in June. I need the break. 

It's been quite the year, juggling the management of so many things: my two daughters' education; their relationship as siblings that are together so much; their emotional lives; their spiritual growth; their development in this year in their femininity; the balance between how much they play, work, see other people, do chores, learn to pursue other interests; my OWN emotions, spiritual growth, development in femininity, balance between how much I rest, work, pursue other interests; the housework and all that goes into maintaining and growing in caring for a house; my relationship with my husband...the list goes on and on and ON.

And oftentimes...I feel like I'm being crushed under the weight of it all. Multi-tasking it all. Doing so many things at once. And the mental to-do list never gets smaller. 

And when I feel like I'm being crushed, I go through my day feel overwhelmed...and often downright irritable. I'm grumpy toward my kids. I'm short with them and their problems. I mutter under my breath. I bark at my daughters. It's NOT very pretty. 

And I don't like myself like that. I don't like feeling like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, let alone the weight of our household. I don't like muttering under my breath. I don't like barking at my girls.

(Quick disclaimer that I WISH I could explain easily and quickly, but I probably can't <WAH!!>: I DON'T like barking at my girls out of frustration...but I DO like (or am LEARNING to like) leading my girls WITH STRENGTH....which sometimes, to an outsider, doesn't look all that different. Somewhere in Christian parenting, we've gotten the idea that we must be NICE to our kids, must be only KIND and SWEET to our kids, to be righteous. I sure have had that idea. We think that IF ONLY WE COULD BE NICER, less angry, less frustrated, more patient, more NICE, we'd be better parents. And our kids would suffer less. But that's really not necessarily TRUE. This is pretty much what I want to say below, but I'll say it quickly here: most of our kids DON'T REALLY NEED MORE NICE. They need a STRONG, Spirit-filled, boundary-setting parent leading them. They need your Holy-Spirit-Filled-Strength. Not your wishy-washy, smiley (fake, suppressed) niceness. 

But they also don't need you barking at them. And I find that tension, that line between the two kind of complicated.)

God has been quietly whispering to my spirit over and over and over again since 2016 turned into 2017 that the next step for me is to value and honor and prioritize DAILY the habit of getting away and having time with Him.

It's like this: it's like there's this little cracked cup, and I'm dying of thirst, and the cup has three drops of water in it, and I keep going back to it to try to tip it into my parched mouth to try to quench the burning thirst.

But there's a waterfall that I could be standing under of fresh, drinkable water, or a lake of sweet, sweet water I could just dive into. 

But I keep going back to the three drops in the cup.

For whatever reason, I've heard that invitation of God to come to His waterfall, His lake, His fountain, but I keep trying to make it through my days on the three drops of: what exciting food I'll be eating today! What book I could sneak in a few minutes to read! What moments of sleep I can get! What break from tasks I can find! What tasks I can checkoff my to-do list! 

And it leaves me irritable and muttering under my breath, and I don't like myself.

But do you know where the waterfall would leave me? Changed. From what I am currently not, to what I am being renewed into. I am being made new, from what I am in my own strength, to all the things God promises that He, in His power and His grace and His love will sanctify me into...but how can I be renewed, be changed, be made new, if I am not daily before Him, with Him, under the waterfall?

So I sat my daughters down this morning, and I apologized to them for snapping at them yesterday when I was doing too many things at once: trying to keep my already-swept floors clean, cook dinner, bake cookies with them while simultaneously 'homeschooling' them by teaching them about measuring and following a recipe. I ended up barking at them about 'not spilling one single grain of brown sugar on the floor'...and it was ridiculous. 

It reminded me of the story of Martha and Mary in Luke 10, where Martha is 'very busy and distracted with all her serving responsibilities,' and she's bitter inside of her heart. Jesus doesn't commend her for her work. He commends Mary, who's getting NO TASK DONE, but He says that she has chosen 'what is better, that which is to her advantage.'

I told my girls today that sometimes they find me to be grumpy and worried about too many things, because I haven't spent time in the waterfall, and I'm asking the three cup-drops to fill me up for the day.

And I also told myself that today will be the end of hearing the Father's invitation to the waterfall, and hesitating. Or trying again to make it through with just the cup. My girls need me, my husband needs me, the world needs me, I need me, to make the decision to set aside time to dive in daily. 

Show Me Your Day and I Will Show You Your Life

My birthday is in January, so when the new year rolls in, it always feels like an extra blank slate to me because it's a new calendar year and a new age, all rolled into one. 

This year, at the commencement of 2017 and of age 32, I had a sense that I knew what would be a good next step for me in my development...but I haven't been QUITE willing to 'look it in the face' fully and embrace it...because it would require a bit on energy on my part and an intentional change of routine.

It's like with our children, how sometimes we think about what would help them move to the next level academically or physically in sports. It could be, for the homeschooling Classical Conversations mom, pushing a child to become a 'Memory Master' of the content. Or it could be switching dance schools to a harder teacher, or perhaps a more grace-filled one, depending on the needs of that particular child. But we know it will move our child's development to the next level.

Well, when I think about myself, I'm pretty sure that I know what will help move me along to the next level of development, spiritually, emotionally, socially...in so much of who I am as a person.

But I'm a little bit skittish about it, because it's the basic idea of...

I'm the kind of person that it's just easy and natural for me to do what seems 'immediate and neccessary' to me or what seems 'nice' in the moment to me. But I'm realizing that I have these things that I value, or I want to value, but I end up only valuing them 'in theory' because I don't intentionally carve out time and energy to develop these values in my life. Because I'm too busy just doing whatever seems immediate, neccessary, and nice.

Let me be more specific, so you know what I'm talking about. They're not huge things that I want to do, so they're easy to forgo.

In 2017, I want to make sure I process my emotions well. I used to be a frequent journal-er, but life as a mom has made it easy for me to push journaling to the side too often. I so believe that the light and life of God come to me when I bring my real emotions to God, my Maker and my Redeemer, and let Him inform me about how to live, how to think, how to feel, how to react. He changes me from the inside out. But it's way too easy to just go through life experiencing emotions but not really processing them.

I'm also coming to realize that the time has come for me to delve into my parenting philosophies again: when I first became a mom, I studied and read about which method I wanted to follow, what I believed would be the best 'path' for our family in how I mothered my girls. And when they were a little older, I knew I didn't understand much about authority and teaching a child to follow a parent's leadership and voice, so I watched my husband, I asked him to help me learn, I read some books...I learned. I'm sensing that in 2017, it's time to learn again. It's too easy for me to just respond to my daughters...and have my interactions with them have pretty much nothing to do with immersing them in the Gospel- the very Good News about what Jesus did and accomplished on the cross and what it means for how we get to live. I want to make sure that I set up boundaries for my girls that lead them to places where they realize that they do, in fact, sin. And when they get to that point, I want to be learning and growing in my ability to point them to the great Rescuer, the one who can wash them clean and accept them because of His performance, not theirs. I want to make sure my parenting is about more than just doing what feels natural or easy fixes in the moment.

And lastly, I happen to know that the way that I think about myself and the way that I interact with other people is just too often a reaction to the insecurities and the shame that resides within me. I don't naturally live believing that what God says about me, in the Bible, is true. In 2017, I'd like to at least make sure that I'm hearing what God says about me, and not just hearing my own insecurities and shame. 

But none of that will ever happen on its own, magically. Of course, it doesn't happen by works alone, either. It's like a mix of making space, making time, and letting God to do the work that He alone can do in me. But on my part, in 2017, the part that I am responsible to embrace and grow in is...

What I'm thinking it will look like is just building into my regular routine short snippets of time that I regularly honor: I'm picturing 20-30 minutes of something very practical on a weekly basis to reflect each of these values...so that I don't just 'value them in theory.'

For example, I'll plan out when I will take time to journal, when I will take time to read and think through Paul Tripp's parenting book (14 Gospel Principles That Can Really Change Your Family), when I will spend time in God's Word taking in what He says about me, and when I I will study and think through some books about shame and how it affects how I think and what I do.

I don't think that the kind of discipline that I'm talking about requires a superhuman amount of energy. I think it just requires a little bit of time, but repeated consistently. Something I put on my calendar and choose to honor, week after week.

One of my favorite singer/songwriters, Sara Groves, talks about this concept on a commentary of her song 'On Your Mark,' (which can be found on Spotify...the album is called Floodplain). She talks about a Dorothy Day quote that says:

"Show me your day and I will show you your life."

When I heard that, it resonated with me. And it also scared me a little. Because it's so easy to just float through life thinking that I'm really valuing things, when I'm only valuing them in theory...and my life will end up reflecting that. But in 2017, with the help of discipline, I want to make space in my days for my values, so that they truly are a part of my life.

I Need MORE Christmas!!!

If there's anything I need to hear after the Christmas season this year, it's MORE of the Christmas season.

I'm not talking about hearing more requests for every single toy under the sun from my children, or more 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,' or more hilarious quotes from Elf, as much as I enjoy (some of) that stuff during December. OHHH NO! Along with the rest of America, I'm so over that version of Christmas now that it's January.

But what I desperately do need to hear, deep in my weary soul, is more of the message of Christmas as I move back into my regular post-holidays routine: Immanuel, God With Us. 

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' as I switch back into the daily grind of my first year of homeschooling my two girls.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' as I look around the mess of a house that just went through Christmas and a trip to West Virginia, and I know the hours and effort it will take to get it all back to normal.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when my natural tendency is to let my patience run thin with my children.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when there are things in our marriage that I'd rather just ignore, but my husband and I need to talk out.

I desperately need to hear 'God With Us' when I don't understand what's going on inside of me, and I feel overwhelmed by my emotions.

I read a devotional thought from Paul Tripp a week or so ago that resonated with my need to know that Immanuel, God With Us, is still with ME, today, in the middle of the everyday things that threaten to overwhelm me:

“Jesus is named Emmanuel, not just because he came to earth once, but because he makes you the place where he dwells every day. This means he is present and active in all the mundane moments of your daily life.

In these small moments, he is delivering every redemptive promise he has made to you. In these unremarkable moments, he is working to rescue you from you and transform you into his likeness.

By sovereign grace, your Lord will place you in ten thousand little moments that are designed to take you beyond your character, wisdom and grace so that you’ll seek the help and hope that can only be found in him. In a lifelong process of change, he is undoing you and rebuilding you again - exactly what each one of us needs!”

— http://www.paultripp.com/wednesdays-word/posts/new-year-new-you

I love that thought, that the things that overwhelm me, are not necessarily my fault, or something that I should change and fix, but I can, instead, view them as graces from Immanuel, God With Us. He is intentionally and graciously bringing me to points where I am "beyond my character, wisdom and grace"...so that I look outside of ME...to HIM.

So that's what I really need to hear after the rush of the holiday season: MORE of Christmas. 

More Important Than the Task

We've spent a lot of time hanging out with my siblings and their kids this summer. What that means for my two children is that we've given them a lot of space to run around the house with the 'cousin pack.' They spend less time directly interacting with my husband and me, more time without direct adult leadership. It's definitely affected my youngest daughter, Bethany. I've noticed that she's started to enjoy her new-found independence a little too much.

For example, one delightful little mannerism that she's started implementing recently is a somewhat sneaky defiance. It's very quiet and subtle. I'll say something like, "Bethany, come here. We're going to change you out of your PJ's into your day clothes." Her reply is the quietest, mumble-y-iest, little "No" that I've ever heard. 

And I'll be honest, my gut reaction is just to ignore the quiet "No," and fly right over the defiance because it's so quiet. I'd tend to not even address it and just start stripping off her PJ's and shoving her day clothes onto her. 

And in some respects, that response is somewhat good. Because it's not like I said, "Oh, OK, I get it, Bethany. You don't want to get dressed. OK, you can just go to church in your PJ's." It's great that I don't let her 'rule' in that way. And it's also great that I don't reason with her: "Oh, Bethany, let me tell you all the reasons that you can't wear your PJ's to church. This reason, and this reason, and that reason....now do you understand?? Can you please agree with what Mommy is thinking and come get your day clothes on? Please?" That would be letting her take the role of a parent, and I've come so far in my parenting that that is my not my first response.

But. I'd propose that even though it's great that ultimately she's still doing what I want her to do when I just sweep her along in the wave of what I want by shoving her clothes onto her, I'm still missing so much. 

Because in that moment, the training that her little heart so desperately needs is SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than the task of getting her dressed and out the door.

I so often miss, or even ignore, opportunities to train my children to choose the life-giving, safe path of willful obedience because I'm so focused on the task that needs to get done. In this situation of Bethie saying her quiet "No," it's a GREAT opportunity for me to stop what I'm doing, get down at her level, and give her a quick and appropriate consequence for choosing to defy in the smallest of ways. Because even if the defiance is small and quiet, it's still defiance. And when I call the quiet "No" defiance, I don't mean that I should bend her over my knee and give her a spanking or send her to time-out for the rest of the day. No! I'm saying that this moment offers a beautiful opportunity to RESCUE her from the dangers of disobedience and quiet defiance. 

So here's how I can rescue her. I can stop what I'm doing, crouch down to her eye level, and say calmly and gently, and yet firmly, "Bethany, you may not say "No" to Mommy. Please go put your nose up against the wall." She will probably be sad. She will probably not like it. But in that moment, I am rescuing her from the dangers of defiance by 'speaking' in a way that she, as a three-year-old, can understand. It's physical, it's right away, and it's appropriate. I wouldn't necessarily choose that consequence if I was in a room full of people, but if we're at home alone, it's a great way to let her know that her reply was unacceptable. And after she stands at the wall for about 15 seconds, I would call her to come back to me, and I'd say, looking right into her eyes, "Bethie, you cannot say "No" to Mommy when I tell you it's time to take your PJ's off. You must say, "OK, Mommy." Let's practice that now. I'll tell you it's time to take your PJ's off, and you say, "OK, Mommy." Here we go." And then I'd practice it with her. 

It doesn't take long. But it does require me to intentionally stop the flow of what I'm doing and value the training of my daughter more than the task of what I'm doing. 

The little moments of the day are so important. It's the compilation of all the little moments that add up to the big moments and the broad sweeping strokes of what our children learn from us. As a mom, I can so often forget that the little moments are important because I just want to get the tasks done, to make it through the day with as little interruption and bother as possible. But I need to remember that the most important task of all is training my children. And doing that will often involve letting go of the less important tasks, and crouching down in the middle of what I'm doing and teaching my child how to obey.

My Pictures Look Magical, But I'm In The Trenches!

We started our first year of homeschool this week.

I put all the cutsey, happy pictures up on Facebook and Instagram. But do you want to know a secret? What I really felt wasn't all cutsey and happy, actually. Sure, I thought my girls looked adorable in their uniforms that we chose to have them wear to help them distinguish between playtime and school time. And there were moments when I thought, 'We're really going to enjoy this.'

But most of the week was overwhelming.

One morning I got up before the rest of the family to think about why I was so overwhelmed, and I realized that what I was feeling was that same old feeling that I've felt at other big intersections of being a mother, like: becoming a mom, staying home alone with two girls while my husband went back to work, potty training, sending my daughter to kindergarten (and therefore starting to embark on the 'letting go' stage of parenting).

It's that nagging feeling inside that I'm just not sure that I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES to do this part of mothering.

I remember when I first became a mother I really had to grapple with this. I kept thinking, "I don't know if I'm really CUT OUT for this, for being a mother. I don't know if I have it in me." It was a big doubt for me. I kept questioning, even up until my first daughter's first birthday, if I was 'cut out' for mothering. 

And I still question myself...all the time. Do I have what it takes?

Choosing to homeschool is making me face this question again. Am I smart enough to think through educational philosophies and understand what they entail? Am I wise enough to choose which educational philosophy and how I want my daughters to learn? Am I restful enough, still enough, motivated enough to be able to sit down and spend ALL DAY with my girls? Am I a good enough leader to be able to create a place of learning that is magical and full of wonder for them? Will I be able to explain things well enough to them that they learn? 

So as we climbed the stairs to our little school room this week, our pictures on social media may have looked magical to the world, but the feelings I had inside of me were certainly not magical. They were overwhelmed, concerned, worried, intimidated and unsure.

In the middle of my less-than-magical feelings, I read this little blurb on Instagram about an author that I really enjoy:

So I decided that even though my personal 'trenches' this September aren't as tough as announcing a separation, they are MY trenches. And I want to show up...'in the during.' In the middle of my process. Before I'm settled in my spirit about all the answers and all the comforts that will carry me through the school year.

So, for anyone else out there who is in similar shoes as me, who is muddling through their own 'during,' I'm just going to share some resources that have started to speak to my soul already.

The first is an article from Desiring God blog. I think alot of where I need to come to in my mind over and over and over again is the place of being ok with weakness- because it leads me to a place of needing God and crying out to Him. And relying on Him for all the things: wisdom, patience, energy, parenting discernment...it's such a good place to hope in Him. This article describes the beauty of weakness so well:

Embracing Weakness Will Change Your Life

In a similar vein, the next thing that is encouraging me is found in this blog post, Missional Motherhood. It's a short paragraph that gripped me when I read it. It reminded me of my 'place' as a mother, the ok-ness of my frailty: how right and ordained it is to be weak.

"First, we get a grip on being a jar of clay.

Not one mother can claim to have it all together. Being a fragile, common jar of clay means that we are free to enjoy and appropriate the sufficient grace of God and show the world that “the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (see 2 Corinthians 4:7–10). Because Christ’s strength is made perfect through weak moms, we are free to lose the pretense that we are self-sufficient moms. Instead, we can boast all the more gladly of our weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest on us and fuel our contentment (2 Corinthians 12:9–10)."

On the other hand, I ALSO need to come to a place of finding out that, as I call on God, I CAN do the things God has asked me to do...because He is with me and He made me and He has given me what I need to follow Him into these new areas. Essentially, I do have what it takes to walk into this new area, because God Himself promises and provides it. Here's resource number two, straight from God's Word:

Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

Hebrews 13:20

I can do all things [which He has called me to do] through Him who strengthens and empowers me [to fulfill His purpose—I am self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency; I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him who infuses me with inner strength and confident peace.] 

Philippians 4:13

Lastly, there are a few songs that I've been listening to. I typically am most helped by songs when I actually stop all my other activities and multi-tasking and just lay on the floor...or go for a run or a walk...or sit on my couch and listen to the song. It's like I remember who I am in those still moments. It's like my soul was as dry as a desert and then it's being plunged into a cup of water and just soaking in the truth that it so desperately needs. Here are some that have been a good reminder of truth for me:

So there you have it. Some of the resources and content that have been helping good old "Mrs. Teacher," the new homeschool mom, grapple through this new adjustment, as I come up against the same old doubt that says, "I'm not sure if I have what it takes." 

May they bless someone else out there who is also hanging out in the trenches with me this September. <3

Eat It iPhone: Part II

A few months ago, I wrote a post called Eat It, iPhone! (Putting My iPhone in Its Place). I felt excited for a few days, maybe a week, about implementing the ideas I wrote about for putting some boundaries around my iPhone usage. 

But I have to tell you...after a few days, there I was again, back to same habits, mindlessly scrolling Facebook when I had a free moment. Hiding from my kids in the bathroom, on Pinterest, feverishly searching out my next improvement. Checking my phone as soon as I woke up. 

I'm not saying at all that I shouldn't be on Facebook or Pinterest or my phone. I think you know that. But I honestly just feel like my brain (and my heart) keeps turning again and again to find something to fill me. To fill the void of boredom, of the monotony of life, of the routine moments. To escape from the grind of life. I'm looking for entertainment. I'm looking for rest. I'm looking for something to rescue me from it all.

I'm finding that this issue goes a little deeper for me than I originally thought. 

My husband and I have been having some honest conversations about these things that I'm feeling. I feel tired. I feel like the day is a never-ending list of tasks. And that's part of why I'm looking for some kind of rest, and some kind of filling, when I'm flipping through my phone. But I'm finding that it's not restful at all. It's actually more cluttering to my mind and my emotions. 

It's kind of like how I think I'll be more fulfilled if I have more stuff, buy more things, but then I actually just end up feeling more weighed down by the material things cluttering up my life. Or when I think junk food will be so satisfying, but I end up feeling sick and gross.

So, yes, we've been having these conversations, my husband and I. We've been sitting out on the porch after the kids are in bed, and I've been trying to unravel what I feel inside.

And some of the things we're discussing now are subjects like: what really is restful for me. And how I tend to think that if I'm resting, then I should feel lazy, and therefore guilty. I think I've bought into the lie that my worth is linked to my efficiency and productivity. And so I haven't been intentionally resting, playing, relaxing. I then find myself trying to escape through my phone. Trying to get away from my kids and my family because I'm just so stinking tired.

So, practically, some of things we're trying out are:

·       Me getting up early. I know this doesn't sound 'restful,' but, for me, it really is. I find I really need the space to be disconnected from my children's needs and voices and hands. I need the time to think and process. I feel like I'm drowning throughout the day if I don't have time to think. And be quiet. And be alone. So this includes, right now, time for me to do some kind of connection with God, some kind of thinking about my own emotional state, some kind of exercise (because I also have issues where I end up fluctuating in my emotions about myself and my physical body very extremely if I'm not exercising. Exercising is one tangible way I manage a more healthy perspective about my body), and a shower. All before the girls wake up. The way we've entitled this space in our talks is 'scheduling in margin.' If I don't have 'margin' in my day, I'm finding I just don't do well. I look for it unhealthy ways.

·       A few small technology shifts, such as when I read a book, I'm going to try to read an actual book, instead of reading it on my Kindle app on my iPhone. This helps create needed space between me and the iPhone. And it helps my brain do 'resting type things' that are related to a screen.

·       Setting boundaries around cleaning. This may sound completely unconnected, but, for me, it's in the same stream of consciousness. I end up feeling like nothing is ever clean, like I've never done enough, and that's not very far from believing that I'm never enough. Which leads me to want to disconnect, escape, get away from my family because the tasks are never done, there's never a place for rest, and I'm never good enough (that line of thinking has a name: shame). Pretty nasty stuff. So we're finding that I actually, for now, need some pretty strict boundaries on when and how much I can clean. Crazy! Here's what we're doing: every morning, I set the timer and clean up (and do other cleaning projects) for 30 minutes. Then, after dinner, we set the timer for 30 minutes again and both clean for 30 minutes. So that gives us about 90 minutes a day of 'house-cleaning time.' Whatever gets clean, gets clean. And then we just label the house (whether it technically IS or ISN'T) as CLEAN. It is DONE. It is CLEAN. Regardless of whether I think it's perfect or good enough...it's CLEAN. And this creates an atmosphere for me where I can feel like my day is no longer a never-ending series of tasks that never end, and never get done, and I'm never enough. That just helps me not want to turn to my phone for rest because I'm always working to prove that I'm NOT 'not enough.'

·       A technology sabbath and a regular sabbath. I've always kind of felt like I 'couldn't sabbath' because...'I'm a mom.' I couldn't stop working for a day because 'I have children,' and that's my job. But I've started having this conviction that part of my tiredness is connected to my lack of intentional sabbath (or stopping). My lack of sabbath mentality (as well as sabbath practice). So, honestly, I've only tried two sabbaths so far. But the first one was a wonderful success. I'll tell you why I label it a success. First, I decided that I wanted to make my sabbaths also 'technology sabbaths' (where I'd give my phone to my husband, and tell him, "Could you be in charge of anything pressing that anyone texts, but otherwise, I don't want to see my phone at all today?"). That was so good for me: all week I've felt like that simple act in itself of disconnecting from my phone created the space that I've wanted from my phone, but haven't been able to do on my own willpower. The day of being away from it severed my need for it. I don't know if it will always be that way, but this week, I haven't really had the same draw to my phone that I previously did. And it was SO GOOD for my soul to be reminded that everyone in the world would get along fine without me, without my input. My friends, my family, would be fine without me. God is plenty sufficient for all their needs. It was like my mind had to rest in the bigness of God, simply by letting go of my phone and instant connection to everyone for that one day. I didn't anticipate that. And the regular sabbath part of the day was just plain old good for me. To let myself take a nap without guilt. To read happily. It actually made me want to connect with one of my nieces when I was with my family in a way I wouldn't normally, because I'd typically feel too drained. I had extra space in my heart. 

So there you have it. Some of the things that we're trying to implement for me to dig deeper into this issue of rest and where I find it. Carving out intentional spaces for rest, so that I wouldn't constantly be longing for it and looking for it in unhealthy and non-restful ways, and coming up exhausted. 

If you're at all interested in a few more blogs or resources that I, myself, found helpful in my journey, I'll list some below. They're just regular blogs of regular people:

A mother's thoughts on how technology is influencing her child:

http://www.icanteachmychild.com/the-ipad-is-stealing-my-sons-childhood/

Both of these two blogs are commenting on the need for technology sabbaths:

http://www.artofmanliness.com/2014/05/20/tech-sabbath/

http://mediashift.org/2012/06/why-we-need-a-technology-sabbath158/

A mother's thoughts on how busyness is influencing her family:

http://raisedgood.com/simplifying-heals-whole-family/

Focus on the Family's brief comments on the cultural phenomenon of mothers staying so busy:

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/about/focus-findings/parenting/why-is-mom-too-busy

A few blogs of mothers wrestling with the issue of Sabbath:

http://www.theconfidentmom.com/05/faith-and-family/steps-implementing-sabbath/

http://thescooponbalance.com/serious-about-the-sabbath/

https://formissionarymoms.com/2009/03/05/sabbath-rest-with-small-children/

http://www.familylife.com/articles/topics/parenting/challenges/frazzled-family/a-sabbath-for-mommy

Sarah Howard

Eat It, iPhone! (Putting My iPhone In Its Place)

I was starting to feel concerned about myself.

I was finding myself...

...very easily annoyed during the day by my youngest daughter...

...much too quickly frustrated by both my daughters' normal, learning disobedience...

...overwhelmed by and anxious about the lengthy to-do list that was forever looming over my head...

...discontent and really wishing that I could just be doing something else other than playing dolls or breaking up ANOTHER argument between a three-year-old and a five-year-old.

And you know what I found myself wishing I could be doing? What little respite I noticed myself turning to over and over and over again? 

My phone. 

I almost hate jumping on the bandwagon of saying that 'the iPhone is really changing our culture'...but the truth is...I'm finding that it's changing me. And I'm concerned. 

When I first realized that I was concerned about my relationship with my iPhone, I started tuning into how my use of technology leaves me feeling. Here are some of the words I came up with to try to label the disquiet that is growing in me:

• scattered
• fragmented in my mind
• not completely present, mentally and emotionally, frequently with my children and sometimes with my husband
• distracted
• itching to look something up or multitask when I'm playing or talking with my children.

Those descriptions were sobering enough to motivate me to try to find some good resources about technology and its influence on our culture. Here are a few that I spent some time reading:

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/unsocial-media

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/six-ways-your-phone-is-changing-you

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/six-wrong-reasons-to-check-your-phone-in-the-morning

So I read these three articles. And I thought about them throughout my day. Later that night, I plopped down on my couch, tired at the end of the day, and I started praying out loud. 

"Oh, God," I said. "I'm not sure what's going on with me. I am getting so annoyed so easily at Bethie. I don't know if I just need a break from the daily grind of mothering...or if there's something to what I'm wondering about this technology thing...but I need to confess something to You. I think I do have some kind of addiction thing going on with my phone. I want to check it as soon as I wake up. My first thought is CERTAINLY not that I need You, and that I need You desperately for the tasks You've called me to for this day. I don't re-orient my mind when I wake up. I just jump in with my own strength. My own thoughts. My own mindset. And maybe that's part of my annoyance at my precious children. I don't have Your mind inside of me transforming me. I don't even have on my radar most of the time that You commanded the ones that are a part of Your family to love You with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength...and then to love others as themselves. Geez. That's not really part of conscious thoughts about mothering during the day and I'm ashamed to admit it. I need Your forgiveness, Jesus. And You know what else, God? I would rather be Pinterest-ing than playing dollhouse. I would rather be scrolling Facebook than chatting in the car. I'd rather be multi-tasking and getting things done than slowing down and 'uni-tasking'...really being present with my girls. I confess that to You, God. What is best for me and my family and my children doesn't really feel best to me. It feels too hard. I need Your help." 

So when I opened my eyes in the morning, guess what? I didn't touch my phone. I laid there in my bed and I said, "God, I don't have what it takes to mother these girls today. I'm not going to really want to be present with them. But You've got what I need. And You're willing to pour out all that I need for today. So would You help me?"

And then we went through our morning together.

I zipped my phone in my purse. I usually put it on my lap in the car. But I realized that it doesn't really need to be there, does it? There's pretty much nothing that someone will say that I really NEED to answer RIGHT NOW. They can wait a few minutes.

I thought of a list that I needed to make while the girls and I were at Dunkin' Donuts together. But then I thought, 'Well, Lord, there are times to make lists, and there are times to be present with my girls. I won't die if I don't make that list right now. And I won't die if I happen to forget something because I don't write it down this very second. So I just entrust that list of stuff to You. Could You help me to remember it later on at a better time?'

A Pinterest idea popped into my brain. I pushed it aside. No need to be multi-tasking 24-7, always planning and researching my next project. There is time and space for that. But the time should not be 'squeezed into every single extra little second of downtime." 

When we were in the dollar store together, the thought flitted through my mind to grab my phone and check my texts or Facebook just real quick. But guess what?! I had left my phone in the car on purpose! Eat it, iPhone! Not gonna control me and my relationship with my girls anymore! I'm gonna be present to them! I'm gonna look them right in their littles eyes as we're perusing good old dollar store paraphernalia while I can...because the sad thing is that they're gonna be 35 in the blink of an eye. 

And don't these two look like Happy Girls? I happen to think that there's an extra special happiness on their countenances because their Mama chose them today over distraction, over fragmentation, over being scattered. 

And when we got home...they ran upstairs to play together...and I sat down for five minutes...and I made my list. And I checked my texts. And I found that it really wasn't so appealing after all. Once it was put in its place for a morning, the phone didn't seem so magical. And I didn't feel so fragmented. I felt more whole. Even though it was just a morning. So it makes me wonder what a lifestyle of putting that iPhone in its place will be like. I hope I can find out. 

Sarah Howard

#parentingHOPE

When Somebody Grabs My Toy

Something that happens with our kids A LOT is that one of them has a special thing in their hands, and another kid grabs it away.

Pretty typical kids-stuff, right? In our house it definitely is.

Because this happens ALL. THE. TIME. we've taught our children a 'script' of sorts for what we want them to do when someone grabs a toy out of their hands.

We teach them to:

1. Use their words. Ask for what they want. Say, "I was playing with that toy. Can I have it back, please?"
2. If the words don't work, find a Big Person and ask them for help. Say, "Mommy, I had this toy and Sissy took it away from me. Can you come help me, please?"

I love teaching my children this script because I think it is very helpful for when they grow up to be adults, as well. 

I have a problem with using my own words: it's hard for me to ask for what I want, to say my desires. It's hard for me to tell someone when I'm upset at something they've done. It's a little bit vulnerable to ask for what we want; it's a little bit vulnerable to honestly admit that we're upset. But when we just use our words to say what we feel and desire, it's so helpful and healthy.

Sometimes kids want to use non-words to deal with the situation. They might scream, or cry, or whine, or grab a toy back. It's like they're trying to 'fix' the situation by taking matters into their own hands in inappropriate ways. Adults do that too. They pitch a fit, they complain, they do something passive-aggressive, they manipulate. I want my children to learn to simply state what they want and feel without trying to 'fix' the situation by taking matters into their own hands in an inappropriate way.

And lastly, I love teaching my kids that when their words fail, they can run to a Big Person for help. Because that's what they'll need to do as adults: run to the ultimate Big Person when things are just not working out. They'll need to run to God. I want them to use healthy methods to solve problems, but I want them to know that when it's messy, when things just don't work out easily, that God is right there, ready to help. And I want them to know, because of their interactions with me, that His help is real, available, safe, and good. Because they've had their toy grabbed. Over and over and over again.

Sarah Howard

Providing For Me In My Pain

I get migraines several times a week.

I've tried lots of different things to try to help them. Currently I'm considering taking a preventative medicine. But as I've tried lots of different ways to help, so far they just keep coming.

Sometimes it's pretty stressful. I take a prescribed medication to stop the migraine once it starts, but my insurance only covers 9 pills every 28 days. And there are many days that I'm vacillating back and forth: do I take a pill? Again? Or do I save it so that I'll have enough later in the month? Because I usually do end up needing about 9 pills a month, give or take a few.

And I'm usually caught up in this mental battle, wondering if I can make it through without needing the medication, wondering if I'll have what I need when the next migraine hits...or the next or the next.

But you know what I realized a few months ago? I looked at my little container of migraine pills...and I noticed that when I refill my prescription, I always have a few left over. I always have just enough. Throughout the month, I always feel like I won't have enough or I might run out. But when it comes down to it, I might have 3 left over, or I might just have 1. But I've never NOT had enough.

I'm not saying that I won't ever run out of migraine pills. But I am saying that I haven't.

And yet I still worry every month.

And it makes me wonder...how many other areas of my life am I always taken care of, always provided for, always carried through, but I keep on worrying? 

When I'm in pain, I tend to think, "Oh no! PAIN! I need to control! I need to make it go away! I need to worry and strive to make sure I am provided for, to make sure I have enough!" But in my pain, Jesus is always taking care of me. He is a good, good Father. He is in control of every aspect of my pain, of my life. He's in control of the pain now, and He's also in control of how I'll be shaped and formed through it. He's in control of what I need and how I'll get it. He's just in control. Whether I perceive it or not.

And right there, in the middle of the pain, instead of worrying, I can force myself to take a deep breath, and I can remind myself that God is there, in the middle of it. And He's providing all that I need. I have enough. 

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Putting My Phone Down

A year ago I got an iPhone.

I thought I would never be one of those moms that's at the playground, scrolling through her phone and absently replying 'Uh-huh' when her child says 'Mom watch this!'

But unfortunately, I find myself looking at my iPhone way too much. It's almost like an unconscious habit to just pick it up when there's a spare minute and glance at email, texts, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or Pinterest. 

I don't like how often I look at it. Because my children see me. 

I know that they'll get their values from watching me. I don't want them to grow up thinking that this stupid little device is more important than what they have to say, more important than THEM. Ugh! Such a yucky thought. 

I recently saw something in a book that I've been reading that reminded me of my iPhone habit:

We give time to those things we love...The impact of not having one’s parents’ time creates the feeling of being worthless. The child is worth less than his parents’ time, attention, or direction. The young child’s egocentricity always interprets events egocentrically. If mom and dad are not present, it’s because of me. There must be something wrong with me or they would want to be with me.

The author, John Bradshaw, is obviously talking about a lifestyle of not giving attention to our children, but the severity of his words make me want to be intentional to value what is truly valuable: my children. 

So I'm trying to put my phone down more. To look into their eyes when I talk to them. To get on the floor and play with them a little bit each day. To make sure that what I'm giving my time to is really worthy of my love.

There is Love in Mad

I said 'No' to Ava. Since she's 5, of course, she didn't like it. 

So she made a mean face at me.

I told her, "I cannot allow that. I love you too much to let you make those kind of faces at me...because it will hurt you if I allow you to make a mean face at me when I say 'No.' I cannot allow you to make that face at me because when you are old, I do not want you to make that face at God when He says 'No' to you." And so I gave her consequence. 

Later, in the car, Bethie, who is 3, asked if I am mad at Sissy. Her Dad explained it to us all. He said, "Mommy is upset that Sissy made a disobey face at her. But, girls, mad is a part of love. Laugh is a part of love. Fun is a part of love. Upset is a part of love. And mad is a part of love. In our family, we will get upset at each other. Ava will get mad at Mom. Mom will get mad at Dad. Dad will get mad at Bethie,

AND we will talk it out and love each other.

This is how it will be in our family. Mad does not mean I do not love you. Mad means I am upset, I think you did something wrong, AND we will bring it up, talk it out, AND you will have my love. This is how we will deal with mad in our family."

So Bethie, of course, decided to test this new theory. She said she was mad at Ava for her disobeying face. So her Dad helped her to practice this new idea by having her tell Ava, "Sissy, I'm mad at you for doing a disobey face to Mommy." And he had Ava repeat back to Bethie why she was mad: "You're mad at me because I made a mean face to Mommy." Then he helped Ava say, "I'm sorry, Bethie, for making a disobeying face at Mom. I did not do the right thing. And that hurts our family." And then he helped Bethie say, "Your disobeying was wrong. But you will have my love...always. I love you. I forgive you. And you are like me. We both need Jesus to rescue us."

This is not something that I know as a Mommy. Because this was not something I knew as a Little Girl. This is something I am learning. 

When I was a little girl, I learned that mad means that I no longer like who you are. Mad means that even if only for a short time, you will lose my love. Mad means something very bad. Mad is what you want to avoid at all costs. Never, ever, ever make someone mad at you. Mad is not a part of love. Try your very best to be the very best so you'll never give anyone a chance to get mad. 

But if someone DOES get mad, do your very best to weasel your way out of it. Do not bring it up, do not talk it out. Pretend it's not there. Smile it away. Be extra nice and maybe the love will come back. But if you can not 'nice' the madaway, wear the bigger smile but put up your walls, because mad will take the love away.

And if you are mad, stuff it down, lock it up, and never talk about it. Because if you talk about it, love will go away. Because mad is not a part of love. 

But that day in the car, the Dad of our family, he told us. He told us the Truth. 

There's love in mad and there's mad in love. 

And the truth is we cannot do good enough to never make anyone mad. We all do the wrong thing. We all make mistakes. We cannot save ourselves by never making each other mad or sad. But when we talk it out and remember that there's love in mad and mad in love, we find that together, all of us, we are the same: we need Jesus. So we will talk it out and we can still love each other. Because it's so safe to know that there is mad in love and love in mad. The mad is not so scary when we know that the love stays and that Jesus is rescuing us all.

It's then that we can say: "I'm mad at you."

Messy Conversations in Venice

We were in Venice.

And it was enchanting.

Completely enchanting. And magical.

We were off on 'Our One Last Adventure Before We Start Having Kids'...and we chose Europe as our destination.

So there we were, in magical Venice, wandering the moonlit streets together at night.

Let me say it again: it was enchanting. 

Well. Enchating to me, I should say.

Because when I looked over at my partner on this romantic stroll, he didn't look so enchanted. At least not by the moon and the narrow passageways and the water and the dreamy gondolas drifting by and the cozy little two-person restaurant tables.

The look on my husband Caleb's face was more in awe. In awe of the balance that the gondoliers were displaying by both paddling and standing...at the same time. 

We weren't holding hands. We weren't gazing into each other's eyes. We weren't slow dancing in the middle of the Pizzaza San Marco. Nope. I was standing there, feeling alone in the middle of this ultra-romantic setting, while my husband stood next to me, completely unaware of what I was feeling, while muttering under his breath, "How does he DO that?? I see that he keeps his feet there...and there...and I see that he only paddles on one side...it's like a forward-paddle and then a swirl motion with the paddle. How does he make the boat turn so easily?? I wonder if I could get a gondolier to give me a lesson...maybe I should ask one of them..." and so on and so forth. His eyes were certainly not on me. They were analyzing the wonders of the paddling gondolier-man.

And I was offended.

"How can you be so engrossed in those stupid gondoliers when this is our chance to be in love in Venice together?" I thought. 

And just when his attention to the gondolier began to fade, his eyes shifted to the violinist in the middle of the Square. And the analyzing and the muttering began afresh. "He moves his fingers so QUICKLY," I started hearing, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his two hands come up and start imitating the violinist's movements.

At that point, I started to feel angry.

It's no fun at all to be angry about something and have to talk about it. Especially when you're on vacation and you're supposed to be having a wonderful time together. But I wasn't having a wonderful time anymore. I was angry, and disappointed, and even scared that we were falling out of love, because who can walk through the tiny streets of Venice and not look at each other? (Talk about jumping to a HUGE and irrational conclusion.)

So even though it was hard, right in the middle of our European vacation, I told Caleb about my fears and my feelings. It wasn't easy. It felt terrible. I felt like I was ruining our vacation by bringing it up. All my ideals of a romantic and perfect adventure were even farther away. I had to spell out how the combination of the moon and Venice and the canals felt so special and romantic for me, and admitting it made me feel silly and embarrassed. It felt like he should just know what I was feeling, what I was thinking, and how romance works. It felt so contrived to put words to what I would have wanted Caleb to do. 

Like I said, It wasn't an easy conversation. It was messy. I was crying and getting angry. Caleb was confused and maybe even a little bit hurt when I mimicked his air-violin-playing. I think I even yelled in frustration at one point.

But in the end, we came to such a good place. An intimate place. A place of knowing each other better.

I found out that just being together, just being side-by-side watching the gondoliers and the violinist together, felt special, and even romantic, for Caleb. Just having me by his side was enough for him. He felt like we were together and sharing the specialness of the place, very much in love. He didn't feel the least bit concerned for us, or our love, or our romance.

But he learned that romance is completely different for me. I need face-to-face, hand-in-hand, talking-together interactions for me to feel like we're together and sharing the specialness of the place, very much in love.

That day, we learned a little bit more about each other: what's significant for each of us and how we interact with romance. And years later in our relationship, I am SO THANKFUL for putting the time and energy and COURAGE into that talk. It has guided and helped us so many times since then. But if I had been unwilling to be vulnerable, unwilling to bare myself and my messy emotions, I probably would have harbored resentment (and not even a right conclusion) for a long time. I would have concluded that my husband is this non-romantic analyzing caveman who doesn't really even care about me at all, and that we're no longer in love anymore. Talk about a devastating conclusion!

But, instead, we grew in our intimacy and love through that difficult conversation.

Based on that conversation and many others like it, messy conversations and arguments where it feels like we'll never make it through, we end up coming out on the other side knowing and loving each other more. I have some suggestions for anyone else embarking on similar experiences in discussions.

1. Husbands, if I could tell you anything, I'd tell you to listen. Listen to what your wife says, listen to the emotions behind it, listen to what she's not saying, listen to the fear behind her anger, listen to what she feels like she's losing. You'll probably want to defend yourself as soon as she starts talking, because she'll probably be angry, and in her anger, she might be messy and say messy things. But what she really needs is you just to stop defending yourself and why you did what you did, and just listen. She doesn't need you to argue. She needs you to love her by listening. 
2. Husbands, one way you can do this is to try to draw out more of what she has 'inside' of her. So if she says one thing, ask her questions about that. Try to understand the depth of what she's saying. Try to hear more. Try to listen to what she feels under what she's saying. And when you think you understand what she's feeling deep inside, try to repeat it back to her: "What I hear you saying is that you feel _____ because _____." If she feels really listened to, really understood, you've already won half the battle. You're already like 3/4 of the way to greater intimacy and a good resolution.
3. Wives, watch out for ideals! Like me, you might feel like talking about your messy emotions ruins the specialness of whatever you're doing, like a vacation or an anniversary or a date, but you saying how you really feel inside will most likely lead to a good place and not a bad place if you are both willing to keep talking it out. 
4. And wives, try to remember that your conclusion about why your husband is doing what he's doing and your conclusion about the way that he is, is probably wrong. Yes, wrong. He's probably got more going on in his mind, and it's probably a lot harder and scarier to be the leader than you can imagine. He's probably got reasons for why he's doing what he's doing. He's not a jerk-monster through and through. He's a human with feelings...just like you. So give him the benefit of the doubt and ASK QUESTIONS about what he's doing instead of accusing him of your worst conclusions. Leave room in your mind for extra information that you don't know yet. Slow down and ask questions like, "What are you thinking when you ____?" and "What are you valuing when you do ____?"

Love needs intimacy to grow. And intimacy is all about knowing each other in the raw, real, nitty-gritty places of your emotions. We tend to think that love will grow as we pretend that everything is alright and we're always happy all the time, like if we just pretend something is true, it will be. But marriage doesn't work that way. Some of the best places in marriage can only be reached through the hard road of getting messy feelings out on the table. 

When I Don't Have a Buddy

My daughter Ava recently had an experience that made me feel so sad for her: she felt left out.

I wasn't expecting her to feel left out when she did; in fact, I was actually expecting her to be having the time of life when it happened. But the circumstances just aligned for her to experience that terrible feeling of not knowing where she fit in and feeling all alone among friends. 

And I felt so sad about it. I think I felt more sad than was appropriate because I myself know the pain of feeling left out, feeling like no one is interested in talking to you or being with you. And I would wish that she would never, ever feel that feeling in her entire life. I'd want her to always feel confident and happy with herself, ready to offer the wonder of who she is with anyone she's with. But unfortunately, that obviously can't be the case.

So there she was, feeling left out. Her dad started talking to her, and it felt like the lesson he was giving her was a treasure, something that all women should hear and live out. So I'll share it here.

He said to her, when you feel left out, Ava, you should:

• First of all, be happy for the friends around you who have a 'buddy' that they're hanging out with. Your natural tendency will be to want what they have so that you can feel settled, so that you can know your place. You might feel angry at them for having what you don't have. Or you might feel mean towards them because they have what you want, and they're not having it with you. But instead, be happy for them! Be happy they have a friend! You can be happy for someone else when something good is happening to them!
• Second, tell Jesus how you feel. Tell Him you feel sad that you don't have a 'buddy.' Tell Him you don't quite know where to go or what to do or who to be with.
• Jesus will probably first remind you of His love. He'll probably want to settle you in His happiness with you...and He'll want to remind you that your lack of a 'buddy' doesn't mean you're unloved or there's something wrong with you. He'll want to remind you that He made you and He's with you, and you are safe in His love.
• Then He might want you to open up your eyes and look around. He might want you to end up thinking about someone else who doesn't have a 'buddy.' He might want you to care about someone you wouldn't normally have noticed. He might want to help you to talk with someone else. He might have different plans than you do, and you might not have been able to see what He wanted if you had had your usual 'buddy.'

It made both of us think as he talked, how many adults know this? How many of us know to not envy what someone else has, but to be happy for them? How many of us know to talk to Jesus about what we feel? How many of us root ourselves in the Lord's love? And how many of us lift our eyes to what the Holy Spirit wants to do, and follow His creative ways instead of being upset that things aren't working out the way we want them to?

So I wanted to share this little parenting moment in the hopes that you, as well, will be inspired along with our daughter.

Sarah blogs regularly, connect with her at www.somuchhope.com 

"I'm Not A Good Enough Mom"

I went for a run yesterday with my Nike running app on my phone that tracks how long I run and how fast I go.

And I started thinking to myself: "Why in the HECK do I use this thing? If I run slower than I did the day before, I'm honestly not really able to push myself to run faster. It's like I should just get a thumbs up sign on this thing for just being out here, trying."

So I started brainstorming what a good running app for MOMS could be like. What if there was an app that said (through your headphones) "Great job! You're doing AMAZING!" instead of "Point five miles completed, average time <insert how fast you're running>." What if instead of pace and distance, the app measured how long it took you to get the kids and yourself ready, your tiredness level, how many pounds you're pushing in your jogging stroller, wind resistance, your personal level of motivation and how freaking hard it was to actually make yourself get your butt outside? What if it spouted phrases like, "I'm so proud of you! Just having your shoes on is a WIN! That you're even trying is success!"

Good idea, right, mommas? ;) You know you'd buy it.

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A few weeks ago was Mother's Day. I like Mother's Day because I like getting treats. I like that my husband stops by Dunkin' Donuts to get me an iced mocha latte. I like cute cards from our children, and I like lots of hugs. So Mother's Day is pretty fun for me.

But Mother's Day also carries with it a darker side for me...and I'd guess it does for a lot of moms.

This year, I ended the day crying on my husband's shoulder at bedtime. All day long, I had had this subconscious BAD FEELING floating around in the back of my mind: "I haven't done good enough as a mom. I am not a good enough mom. I don't spend enough time listening to them, giving them enough attention, playing with them, being affectionate enough with them. I'm failing as a mom." I felt compelled to ask my husband, "Do you really think I'm a good mom??? I don't feel like I'm good enough." The question made me burst into tears...and I realized how pervasive that feeling is of "I haven't done enough, been enough, to be a good enough mom to these precious children."

---

I think my mind needs a change of gears just like I was imagining for my running app.

I feel all this pressure to do more, to be more, and it's never enough. But what if God is truly GRACIOUS? What if He's not disappointed with my progress? What if He's more like that Mom's Running App that I was picturing: "I'm so proud of you! You're out here giving this mothering thing your energy, your time, your effort. You're doing so well"?

Honestly, I'm still 'on the hunt' for what God thinks about me and my mothering. I'm in the stage of realizing that I feel that I haven't done enough pretty much all the time. I feel like: "Whoa, I didn't even know I felt this so often." And I'm planning on thinking that through and asking God for some insight into His feelings in the coming weeks.

But there are some things that I DO know. Here are three:

1. God Himself has entrusted these children to ME. Not to anyone else. He wanted their lives to be shaped and formed by my life. He could have given them to anyone else in the whole world, but He gave them to me.

2. That Numero Uno that I just wrote is a big one, because I tend to think of myself pretty consistently as the 'crap parent.' My husband happens to be both an elementary teacher, as well as a person who is very gifted in working with children. He's able to see through a lot of extraneous details into the heart of what's going on, as well as what needs to happen. I don't have the years of teaching that he does, and I just don't have the gift to see things as clearly as he does. My kids will ask me a question in a whiny voice, and I don't even hear the whine. I just reply. My husband, though, will realize, "Oh, they're whining. We don't want to reward whining. They're probably whining because of this, this, and this. Here's how I'll address the current whining, and here's how I'll proactively nip the whining in the bud for the rest of the evening by changing this, this and this." What the?!?

So as you can imagine, I think of myself as the sub-par parent who messes the kids up.

But when I can remember that God chose to give these two goofy ganders to ME, guess what? My perspective starts to change: I realize that my husband brings what he has to give to our family. But he CAN'T bring what I have to give to our family. He's not a woman. He's not ME, with my thoughts, my background, the way God speaks to me. I would conclude that if I don't have the same giftings as he does, then I bring nothing of value. BUT WHAT I BRING IS VERY SIGNIFICANT AND NEEDED. God entrusted these lives that He knit together so carefully into my care as well.

3. But saying that I'm significant and needed doesn't rule out my need to grow. It doesn't mean I'm perfect. If leading my children doesn't come naturally to me, that doesn't mean that I can just say, "That's just the way I am." It's like there are the two extremes: concluding I'm worthless because I'm not the same as someone who has certain obvious giftings, or deciding that because I'm significant, I can just stay the way I am, with all my weaknesses and my kids just have to deal with it. THERE'S A MIDDLE GROUND! I can learn from my husband's strengths. I CAN ASK QUESTIONS! I can intentionally look to grow in areas where I'm not very strong. I can ask him what he thinks through as he leads our kids. I can LEARN. And the only way to really learn is to go back to number two and reject the conclusion that 'I'm not good enough if I'm not perfect.' Only when I'm OK with who I am and the strengths and weaknesses that I have, can I genuinely ask for help in a healthy way. Only then can I truly grow.

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So these are the things that I already know. If you agree with them or like them, maybe you should go to the App Store and look up "Gentle and Kind Running App for Moms Over 25"...just kidding! ;)

Sarah blogs regularly, connect with her at www.somuchhope.com 

We Have Enough

Our Spring Break this year was really different. We didn’t visit Cancun. We didn’t spend our time washing our windows or doing other spring cleaning tasks. Our family of four moved into our yucky, dirty garage for the week.

We did it to try to experience a tiny bit of what it would be like to live below the worldwide poverty line...where people live on less than $1.50 a day per adult for food. We modeled our living situation after places my husband had visited in Central America in college. All four of us slept in the same bed, we ate rice and beans each meal, we cooked outside, and we walked anywhere we had to go. We each had two sets of clothes and we didn’t have any toys for the girls besides little sticks and rocks we found outside.

We spent some time blogging about our experiences. Mid-week, we had to come sleep inside one evening because the temperatures dipped into the 30’s. Here’s what happened in our house that evening when we ‘re-entered’ our regular living situation:

“Two nights ago we came inside our (regular) house and out of our garage house for a little while. Of course, our girls practically jumped on all their toys and started playing, playing, playing.

But it wasn't long before Bethany had a little doll in her hand that Ava wanted.

And Ava asked her if she could have the doll. And Bethany said 'No.'

I told Ava to go look for other toys that she could play with instead. Her response to me was: "I don't want any other toy. I don't really like any of the toys in this house except that doll."

Well, you can imagine how I, being tired and cold and deprived of regular middle-class comforts, would respond to such a comment.

I said, "Well, then, Ava, maybe I should just PUT ALL YOUR TOYS AWAY THEN. Maybe you shouldn't have ANY TOYS AT ALL if you don't like them," in a rather rude voice. But I was just so mad that 10 minutes inside our house could SO EASILY make her forget what we had been living outside and cause her to say something so entitled and ungrateful. I was upset.

The moment passed and she found some other toys after asking me to please not put her toys away.

I didn't really feel so good about our encounter, so later on, after I had cooled down, I brought her into my lap and I told her that it was really sad for me to hear her say that she didn't like any of the thousands of toys we have in our house. I told her it made me sad because we had been living outside in the garage with NO toys and SO MANY kids in the world have so much less than we do. We have 5 dollhouses and a Dora dollhouse and a hamper full of stuffed animals and crayons and sparkly markers and SO MUCH. And yet she thinks it's not enough because there is one thing she doesn't have.

Then I told her that Mommy is the same way. I have SO MANY clothes. A closet full. A closet STUFFED full. And I so often decide that I don't like ANY of my clothes and I must have new ones. I think that I have to have MORE because I don't have ENOUGH.

Sarah Howard

And that is really, really sad.

I told her we would work on it together, being happy with all the wonderful things that God has given us. That we would work on accepting that we have ENOUGH.”

Read more about our experiences at www.SoMuchHope.com/sow

No Room For Comparison

This blog was originally posted on Sarah Howard's blog "Parenting". Read more at: http://www.somuchhope.com/parenting/

A couple of years ago, my husband and I tried to read through the Bible in a year. I didn’t make it all the way through, but it was a great experience to try. We read it in chronological order, in the order it was supposedly written in, so sometimes we were reading from different passages each day instead of simply reading straight through.

In the beginning, we read some of the beginning of Genesis, and then jumped into reading the whole book of Job before we came back to Genesis again.

I found it really interesting to see the way God interacted with different characters of the Bible in different ways. It struck me, after reading about God's story with Job, and then moving to God's story with Abram, that God really does move towards as specific individuals. His way of (to use a Christian phrase) ‘working in Job’s life’ was way different than with Abram. There’s not a cookie-cutter formula when it comes to the story of His interactions with us.

As a mom, this really speaks to me. There are so, SO many opportunities for comparing myself to other moms and their stories. For example, just spend some time in a room full of women discussing their labor and deliveries stories. There's always that subtle comparison aspect. The one-up feel. The nonchalant asking of whether you had an epidural or a C-section. Or talk to that same group of women about their newborn parenting philosophy. Did they let their baby 'CIO'? How long does their baby sleep at night? At what age did they achieve the elusive sleeping-through-the-night phenomenon?

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE knowing the stories of my friend's lives. It can be so hysterical to compare notes and find out personal details. Talking about ‘women stuff’ is a blast. It’s one of my favorite things to do. However, here’s what I’m talking about: it’s definitely NOT my favorite thing when the simple sharing of who we are and what’s happened in our lives turns into something darker. Sometimes it morphs into the same discussion on the surface, but under the surface, women are also trying to decide if there's something wrong with them, with their story, with how they did things. They’re wondering if they’re ‘good enough.’ And they're defending the validity of what they experienced.

And that's where this ‘God with Job/God with Abram’ things speaks to me. God was uniquely orchestrating each one of their life experiences to have a unique God-encounter with Him. It's totally different how He expounds on the magnificence of His creation to Job, and how He promises Abram an heir when he's an old man and makes him wait even longer for the promise to materialize. His story for their lives is the same in that He is using the circumstances to draw them to Himself, but they’re completely different in the way He goes about it.

The hopeful conclusion for me in all of this is that God interacts with ME uniquely, too. And the way He moves towards my mom friends to get ahold of their hearts is also completely different than the way He moves towards me.

So, let me suggest this. Maybe it's not so much about whether or not I had the epidural, or if my birth was completely natural or not. Maybe my labor was tailored specifically for me and what God wanted to work in me. Maybe He had unique plans for what He wanted to lead ME through and how I'd encounter Him in the middle of it all. What if how my newborn acts is less about how perfect of a parent I am, and more about what God is doing inside of me? If my friend's baby sleeps 12 hours straight through the night at 3 weeks old, and mine wakes up after 45 minutes every stinking time, maybe it's not about whether I'm a good mom or not...but about God and the things He is working into me, the ways He's stretching me to learn to hope in Him in a new way, the methods He’s using to refine me. Maybe my friend with the easy labor and the easy baby needs grace from God. Maybe I need to go through the deep waters. But whatever He’s doing, it is most certainly specific and individualized, and there is no room for comparison in the light of His faithful pursuit of His glory being revealed in each of our lives.

Sarah blogs regularly, connect with her at www.somuchhope.com 

Good Around The Corner

This blog was originally posted on Sarah Howard's blog "Letting Your Feminine Heart Live". Read more at: http://www.somuchhope.com/the-female-heart-alive

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Last week, I came home from my usual routine of dropping my husband off at work to find that our house had been robbed.

I first noticed tire tracks in the snow in our driveway. Then I saw the foot prints leading up to the door. Lastly, I saw that our door was open and the frame was splintered.

I quickly turned around and herded my two daughters back into the car and locked it. I facetimed Caleb: "Honey...I think our house has been robbed..." and called the police.

When we were able to enter our house again, we found that pretty much every room had been ransacked: closets thrown open with everything that had been inside lying on the ground; every drawer pulled out and rifled through; bags opened; papers scattered about; jewelry flung over the counter...it was a mess. And it was very disconcerting to see our possessions looked through and thrown all over the place.

As I've processed the violation of an uninvited guest being in our home and going through our things, there's one thing that I keep coming back to. This turn of events could really freak me out. I could start to feel unsafe in our home. I'm a stay-at-home mom who was robbed in the middle of broad daylight, for crying out loud! I could decide we need to move to a safer neighborhood. I could freak out every time I hear an unexpected noise.

And yes, those things are certainly coming into my head. I never knew our house made SO MANY random noises. Now I do. These are the emotions and thoughts of real life - I can't escape them. We're definitely grappling through the brokenness of what happened to us. We're finding out (again) that the pain of living on earth is unavoidable.

But in the middle of those thoughts, that's not the only reality that I can choose to hold onto. At the exact same time of holding on to the reality that a break-in really did happen to us, I'm fighting to know that I can, in my other hand, hold on to the reality that I am a child of God. I belong to Him. And because of that, I am completely safe.

I'm not safe in the sense that nothing bad will ever happen to me, or if I just 'speak safety over my future' with enough faith, no harm will ever befall me. We were robbed. That can certainly fall in the category of something bad happening. But because God Himself, the Strongest and most Significant Being in the whole world, holds me in His hands, nothing can ever touch me or happen to me that He has not allowed. His eyes are on me. 24-7. And He is doing good to me, no matter what it looks like to my eyes.

So I don't have to freak out. I don't have to move to the best neighborhood to make sure this never happens again. In order for me and my family to be safe, I don't have to be the strong one. I don't have to save myself. I am in GOD'S hands. And because of that, there is good, and not disaster, around the corner.

Sarah blogs regularly, connect with her at http://www.somuchhope.com/the-female-heart-alive. 

My Jeans Are Not My Worth

When I go away on a trip, I like to pack so that I will be prepared for anything. And I like to pack waaaay in advance.

If I was able to do things in my ideal way, I’d have everything neatly laid out in my suitcase 2-3 nights before the typical night-before packing job. It stresses me out to pack the night before a trip...so I like to do it way ahead of time. I like having time to think about what I forgot, make lists, and wash my favorite items so that they can all come along.

My husband is the complete opposite. He, as well, prefers to not pack ‘the night before.’ What he chooses to do instead, though, is to pack 5 minutes before we leave. THAT SAME DAY. Whereas my clothes have sat neatly stacked for 3 nights in the suitcase, his get shoved in, pretty much on our way out the door. No thought to how clean his clothes are, no preference to any particular pair of jeans. If we’re going for 3 nights, he might bring 2 shirts. I, on the other hand, would typically bring 6. I enjoy packing all kinds of items ‘just in case’ to keep me happily ready for any situation, be it 80 degrees or 40. He’s fine no matter the circumstances in whatever shirt he happened to grab.

All this to say: his method is unbelievable to me. The end.

So anyway, we went on a trip to visit my sister a couple of months ago. When it came time to get dressed for church, he probably wore the same jeans and shirt he had worn the day before on the roadtrip there. I, on the other hand, was in a quandary. I had carefully planned and packed my outfits for each day we’d be there. I had tried on various outfits for Sunday in the packing process and had opted for a dress. However, while getting dressed, I remembered that her church was alot more casual than I was used to, and I suddenly realized that the dress would be too formal. So I threw together another outfit. (By ‘threw together,’ I mean I deliberated between various options for 30 minutes).

It wasn't what I had pictured myself wearing on Sunday morning. It was fine, because I had obviously prepared for such a thing to take place by packing several nice sweaters ‘just in case.’ But it wasn't what I had planned. And do you know what I ended up doing for pretty much the whole time we were at church? Glancing down at my clothes. Deliberating about whether my outfit looked good or not. I even went into the bathroom...not to USE it...but to look in the mirror. At my outfit. I did one of those ‘jump up and down a few times to try to see the bottom half of yourself in a small mirror’ type of numbers.

Ridiculous.

When I find myself in a situation like this, there are so many options for what I conclude. One option could be that I could not even notice that I'm inordinately thinking about my apparel. I could consider it normal, find nothing strange with the fact that the constant background thought as I chat with my sister’s church family is what I'm wearing. Or I could solidify my anal commitment to pack my suitcase 3 days ahead. I could vow to always be even more prepared, and I could freak out if ever I have to <gasp> prepare the night before.

I have another option, though. I can tune into my thoughts, focus on what’s going on ‘inside of me’ and start to ask questions of myself. I could examine what I’m valuing and why. For example, these are helpful questions for this situation: ‘Why are my clothes so important to me right now?’ ‘Is it in balance or excessive that I'd be peeking at my boots from different angles throughout the whole service, trying to catch a glimpse of myself in the windows as I play with my 2 year old afterwards, and jumping in the bathroom?’ ‘What am I wanting my clothes to do for me?’

If I answered those questions right now, on the spot, I'd say: My clothes are so important to me right now because they're not just simply covering my body. They've come to mean something more than that in this moment. Next, it’s pretty excessive that I'd be so consumed with my clothes. I could be focusing on the people around me, focusing on God and what His thoughts are in this moment, but I can't because I'm lost in halfway paying attention to what’s going on and mostly contemplating the way my jeans enter my boots. And lastly, if I were honest about what I want my clothes to do for me, like I said, they're not just providing covering anymore. I’d say that I am wanting my jeans to provide me with worth. I want my clothes to prove I'm valuable. I want them to give me significance and security.

In this situation, the clothes have become all about my worth. I’m internally asking the question, ‘Am I good enough?’ I’m not sure that in and of myself, that I'm good enough, that I'm valuable enough to be approved of, to be wanted, to be accepted. I feel that my clothes need to save me. They determine if I have worth or not. If I’m a loser or not. If I’m significant, valuable and safe.

The truth is that clothes can never do that for me. A word I've learned over the past years is that my clothes can become for me a ‘False Savior.’ They might promise me safety, security and worth when I carefully lay them out 3 nights before the trip, or when I see them in store displays, or when I see someone else wearing something and I think, ‘I need to buy that.’ But they never deliver. There’s never a lasting safety, an unchangeable worth afforded to me. The significance they assure me they’ll bring is a shaky confidence that leaves me silently obsessed instead of having my eyes open to what God is doing all around me.

Anything can become a False Savior. It happens to us all the time, in all kinds of everyday  situations. Something (in my case, it’s often clothes, food, a relationship, the goal of having people like me, people’s opinions, and so on) tells us that if we have it, we’ll have the good life. Our lives will be ideal. But I’ve found that it’s never really true. It never really gives me what I want it to.

Think about it. What does that typically look like for you? What are things that you trust to make you feel significant? What promises to bring you safety? What becomes more than just itself and starts to define your worth for you? And does it ever deliver??

Maybe this New Year can be a year where we take more steps as a Church to intentionally turn away from what has falsely promised to give us significance and safety and fall on the Savior who alone can deliver what He promises.

Sarah Howard

Good Enough: Thoughts Inspired by Frozen

I never thought I’d say this when I first saw the movie Frozen, but I think I’ve reached a saturation point with good old Elsa and Ana. Can any other moms of small people relate?!? I cannot walk through Target or Walmart anymore without my daughter’s little eagle eyes spying out every single little knick-knack that has those two displayed on it. The screeching starts: “Mom! Mom! There’s Elsa! Mom! There’s Ana!!! That’s me! That’s me!” We play alot of pretend in our house (my daughters are 2 and 4), and the majority of the time, we’re pretending to be ‘The White Elsa’ or ‘Little Ana.’ Hence, the excited shrieking of “That’s me, that’s ME!” in Walmart.

    My 2 year-old, Bethie, actually talks about Frozen so much, and pretends to be Elsa so frequently, that I was actually starting to feel a little concerned. This past week, it felt like every conversation, every sentence out of her mouth ended up returning somehow to this now-epic kid’s movie.

    When I noticed this, my next thought was: ‘Is Frozen all she thinks about?? Does she just replay scenes of the movie all day in her mind? How much of her mental capacity is consumed with it? I’m not so sure this is a good thing anymore.’ Those thoughts led straight into worry. So one night, I started sharing my concerns with my husband.

(...just a little thought for anyone out there who is like me and don’t naturally realize this helpful thing: when you get that feeling of a vague, somewhat foggy-type worry floating around in the back of your mind, and you know it’s there, you can feel it, but you haven’t pulled it to the forefront of your mind and examined it, I think that you’ll be doing your emotions and your spirituality a huge favor to use the energy it’ll take to bring that sucker right out into the light and examine what it’s saying and how it’s affecting you. A great way to do that is to talk it out with somebody. Anyway, that’s just today’s free tip. The end.)

So there I was, talking about the all-consuming influence of Frozen on my small friend, Bethany. As I talked, I realized that I had already made some conclusions about what her obsession meant. I had concluded that:

• I should’ve done a better job as a mom. I shouldn’t have let her watch Frozen. I should’ve done the same things with my second daughter that I did with my first. When my older daughter was two, she had never seen anything like Frozen; when she pretended, she would constantly want to play Mary and Joseph making the trek to Bethlehem, looking for a place for their baby Boy to be born. Her mind being constantly occupied with thoughts of the birth of Jesus was not really a concern to me, as you can imagine.

• Because I hadn’t ‘been vigilant enough,’ and because I ‘didn’t foresee’ that the fun moments of enjoying the cuteness of a movie together would so affect my daughter and dictate the course of her 2 year old thoughts, her future would be negatively affected. She wouldn’t have the same advantages in life that her sister has. She wouldn’t have a soft heart to God. She wouldn’t be as intelligent. And so on and so forth.

As I talked out those deeper conclusions, I could start to sense how God-less my conclusions were. I was concluding that for my daughter to experience good things in life, I had to be good enough. I had to perform well enough to merit a good future for her. But do you know what the truth is, though?? I can never, ever, ever be good enough as a parent. It’s not like if I was just a little more strict, or a little more discerning, or a little more engaged with them, then they’d have a good life. No! I’m not even close to ‘good enough,’ and my job has never been to be good enough. My job is to call out for and fall on the mercy and grace of THE LORD as I try to parent the way He’s called me to.

So then, what do I do when I’m concerned about a direction my daughter is going? Oh, how I love the answer to that question! I can realize that realizing something is a little bit off in her life is a gift from God. He’s allowing me to see it to move me. He doesn’t do it to condemn me for not being good enough or to reveal how I already ruined my chances for the future. He is pouring out His grace to move me today to step in and gently direct her onto another path. He’s using me, as her mom, to introduce salvation to her. She’s two; she doesn’t know anything yet. She doesn’t know what she should focus on. She doesn’t know what is valuable for her to contemplate. She needs me to guide her, and God is graciously helping me see one area where I can do that.

I could be caught up in a cycle of perfectionism: ‘Ah! I didn’t do good enough! How did I miss this?!? Now bad things are going to happen!’ But as I talked it out, I saw that I have another option. I can be thankful for God’s guidance for today. I don’t have to make conclusions about the past or the future, except that I can fully lean into His care for me and my children. Because it has never been and will never be about how good I am. It will forever be only that He has been and will always be good enough. Thank you Lord!

Sarah Howard