10 Favorite {Grace-Filled} Resources for Making Real Life Work in a New Season

So, are you sinking or swimming as you’ve begun a new season? Or maybe you’re simply treading water and calling that a win?

Because on some days, not drowning is totally a win.

Most everyone has probably started back to school and is in the process of settling into new rhythms. We’re about a month in and I’m here to tell you, the eagerness and responsibility of new beginnings has already begun to wane.

Oh, I see you didn’t clean out your lunchbox yesterday and now that half-eaten apple has churned its own applesauce that’s settled nicely into the fabric piping and begun the fermentation process. Sure, just buy the cheeseburger plate today since the lunchbox that now smells like hard cider is actually the back-up lunchbox and your new lunchbox hasn’t turned up in the lost and found. Or so you claim.

True story and it’s only Tuesday.

Why do you think I needed to write this series? Because the Vischer family {and the mom who somehow got the this senior management position with no experience} is in serious need of grace as we settle into our own new rhythms.

In case you missed the series or some of the posts, here they are all together.

Grace in the New Rhythms. Part 1.

Part 2. What’s Your Real Motivation for Wanting to Be Awesome?

Part 3. Know Your Own Life and Walk in Freedom.

Part 4. How to Manage Your Days When You’re “Type-ADD” Instead of Type A

Part 5. 4 Reasons Why Failure is Your Friend

I also thought it would be fun and helpful to provide some resources that may bring further encouragement as we order our days, manage our families, and keep the plates spinning. Here you go:

Books

Crazy Busy: A (Mercifully) Short Book About a (Really) Big Problem by Kevin DeYoung

I mentioned this book last year in a series I did on busy-ness and priorities. I cannot recommend it enough. And it’s so short, which means you can definitely fit it into your crazy busy life. And if you can’t? Well, you might be too busy.

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Say Goodbye to Survival Mode: 9 Simple Strategies to Stress Less, Sleep More, and Restore Your Passion for Life by Crystal Paine

I received a review copy of this book when I attended the Allume Conference last year. When January rolled around and I was feeling all resolution-ish, I read the book from cover to cover in a day. I’m wary of “systems” and one-size-fits-all ways of doing life. But this book isn’t that at all. It’s straightforward inspiration and real-life hacks about doing life on purpose. For me, I finished the book feeling inspired and empowered rather than discouraged and guilty. Love it when that happens.

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And for those of you who homeschool, The Type B Homeschool Planner: The Planner for the Rest of Us by Sarah Mae.

Can I get an “Amen” for the title of this book? Where was this planner when I homeschooled?

There’s no shortage of “how-to-run-your-homeschool-like-a-boss” products geared toward well-meaning parents. And they are fine and good if you are naturally wired with military DNA. I am not. And I always felt like a failure when I tried to do school the way someone else did school and it didn’t work for me. I haven’t actually purchased or used Sarah Mae’s Type B planner. I simply love the title and the concept. I’d totally buy it if I was still homeschooling.

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A Million Little Ways: Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live by Emily P. Freeman

I’m sort of cheating by throwing this one in the mix because it’s not about organization or new rhythms. BUT…the Kindle version is only $1.99 right now! I’d be a fool to not let you know about it because it’s one of the favorite books on my bookshelf.

And it is actually a perfect book to read right now as we’re knee-deep in the routines of laundry and dinner, carpool and work. This book challenges the notion that only the painters and the poets are the real artists, that only the creatives can offer beauty into the world. The truth is, we’re all artists. We all have something lovely and unique to offer the world whether we’re folding the clothes or stirring the soup or teaching the students. Just writing these words makes me want to pick it up and read it again. {You can read my review of it here.}

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And finally, this book that inspired an entire post which gets at our real motivations for wanting to be awesome and then hating ourselves when we come up short. The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness: The Path to True Christian Joy by Timothy Keller.

It will take you 30-45 minutes to read. And then you’ll pick it up and read it again and again because it’s that important.

Meals

How to Make a Meal Plan That Will Save Your Life and Make You Pretty.

Kendra is hi-larious and an actual baker and I think this very real-life, you-be-you approach to meal planning is just perfect. Plus it makes you pretty so there’s that.

And then there’s this post I wrote about how I do groceries and meals. I am not an actual baker but it’s also very real-life and you-be-you. It works for us. And Shannan Martin told me she does groceries and meals almost the same way so there you go. I’ll count that as an unofficial testimonial.

And if you’d like to follow my “What’s for Dinner?” or “Soup” pinboards, here you go.

Follow Marian’s board What’s for Dinner on Pinterest.

Follow Marian’s board Soup on Pinterest.

Most of the meals are things that I’d actually make and that my kids would hopefully eat, not to be confused with the stuff I would like to make in a perfect world with a limitless food budget for Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s and the organic farmer’s market and kids who will eat quinoa and sushi.

Tools

“The Calendar.” We’re now on our second school-year with this $5 gem of a lifesaver. It’s the only thing on the front of our fridge. Ours is from Staples in the Martha Stewart section. I write our meals for the week along the bottom and just that simple act makes me feel like I’ve got a plan.

I found this one on amazon and I kind of like it better since it has more room. It’s half-price right now and $9.99. Seeing just one week at a time is helpful for me and I feel less overwhelmed than when I’ve tried a “month at a glance.” Seriously, how do you “glance” at a month. A month is 30 whole days. Call me a wimp but a month needs full fledged digestion. Like, sit down and study all of those many days with a cup of coffee. A week is glance-able.

Posts

This series from last year here on the blog. It’s a series about time, margin, and opportunity cost.

And finally, I loved this post by The Nester on rhythms and routines and why knowing the difference is important.

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I hope that maybe just one of these posts or books will provide help and encouragement in this new season. As always, I heartily welcome your ideas and resources that help your stay on track. Or at least adjacent to the track.

And now, a Seasonal Blessing:

May your fall bring fresh perspective. May your rhythms remain steady and grace-filled. And may your lunch-boxes not smell like beer.

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4 Reasons Why Failure is Your Friend {final post in the series, “Grace in the New Rhythms”}

Make friends with failure? It goes against everything our culture preaches, whether it’s from the pulpit or the newsstand.

We lampoon those who have screwed it all up and landed themselves on front pages and the nightly news. We give them their own hashtags and have a good laugh along with the late-night comedians. We think we’re better because we haven’t fallen so far. Or at least we haven’t done it publicly. And in doing so, we don’t know ourselves. We don’t acknowledge our appetites or our frailties. We don’t acknowledge our humanity, that we have come from dust and will one day return there.

And of course we’re all envisioning the epic failures — the professional athletes who cheat and abuse, the politicians who lie to us. We’re recalling the public scandals and the public figures who have launched them onto our TV screens.

That’s failure in an epic sense, right?

But what about the everyday kind of failure? What about the scorched dinners and the snapping at our kids that we regret as soon as they leave for school? What about failing our spouse because we’re more interested in the must-have information on our Twitter feed than we are in giving them our full attention? What about the bill we forgot to pay or the friend we’ve neglected? What about the absent-mindedness or disorganization that cost us something big?

And in case you’re wondering, yes — I’ve been guilty of all of the above just this week.

I specialize in the everyday failure — it’s like, a gift — and enough of it stacked against you will eventually begin to feel as big as the story splashed across the nightly news. We wither under the unacknowledged weight of our everyday shortcomings like my straightened hair withered under the heavy weight of that coastal humidity when we were trying to take a beachy family photo last summer. {hashtag epichairfail}

And perhaps the diversion of someone else’s epic waywardness is a welcome diversion from our own. It’s just a theory.

I’ve spent my whole life avoiding failure, blame-shifting it onto someone or something else, denying it, or wallowing in it to the point of not being able to get out of bed. Failure and I — we have not exactly had a healthy relationship. The root of it is pride. I think too much of myself, plain and simple. Arrogance and self-loathing are flip sides of the same coin.

But lately there’s been a shift. I’ve decided to make friends with failure. I’m learning — so very, very slowly — about the blessedness of self-forgetfulness. And I’m learning that failure can be my life coach, my teacher, and even my partner in everyday hacks.

Let’s get to it.

1. Failure lives in the everyday lab where we learn and create. We try and we sometimes succeed. We try and we sometimes fail. Scientists do this for a living. Inventors do this for a living. Artists and teachers and strategists of all sorts — they try and then they try again because this is what we do as we proceed along the road of finding what works. We experiment. And we all know that in experiments, it usually takes a lot of wrong answers to find the right one. This is the creative business of living and of making a living.

2. Failure informs us and asks how we’ll receive it. As we move into a new season and seek to move into new rhythms, we surrender to the gift of trial and error. And it is a gift — if we choose to see it that way. I learn everything from when my brain is at its best for writing to what sort of things drain me so that I’m not at my best for those whom I love the best.

Will you choose to take note of what works and what doesn’t instead of sinking under the weight of your mess-ups and bad guesses? And will you choose to be grateful for the failures that inform you of ways to go about it differently in the future? That’s the beauty of trial and error — we get to choose how we receive it. We can be grateful or guilty. I’m trying to make a habit of choosing the former.

3. Failure reminds us that we are dust. When I mess up, I should sit down and have a big laugh. I usually don’t, but I should. Failure reminds me of my humanity. I am not God and it’s a good thing I’m not. I’m not perfect and I should quit trying to be. Often our failure isn’t intentional; it’s simply a by-product of our finiteness.

But sometimes we do know better. Either way, for the Christian, failure keeps us at the foot of the cross — acknowledging our need for repentance and forgiveness, grace and mercy. At the cross I find both a Savior and a friend, One who says It’s okay. This has been paid for and I love you! Let’s begin again, shall we? At the cross I find love that is lavish and unconditional. Is there any better place to be?

4. Failure makes us compassionate. When we truly acknowledge who we are, we judge less and love more. We make friends with mess. We extend grace because we’ve first received it. When I am feeling extra-judgey toward someone else — which is often — I know I don’t have a proper view of myself.

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What does all of this have to do with new rhythms and new seasons? How does it inform our everyday hacks as we try to manage our days in such a way that things work and bless those around us?

Simple. Failure doesn’t issue condemning commands. It extends inquisitive invitations:

Yeah, you keep messing up at this one. Why don’t you find a friend to talk to? Perhaps you could use some accountability and encouragement in this area instead of trying to go it alone?
Okay, so this week you ran yourself ragged and now you’re exhausted and crabby with everyone around you. How can you find some rest and arrange next week’s calendar differently?
Well, that didn’t work but you tried. Let’s find a new angle. Or maybe just try again?
Yes, that was ugly. You know you shouldn’t have cut him to pieces with your words like that. Where do you need to go? To him and to the cross. True, it’s a well-worn path but it’s no walk of shame; it’s the road to restoration.
That’s appalling, what that guy did. And yes, he deserves what’s coming to him. But consider his pain and consider the road that led him to this point. And acknowledge that we don’t ever truly know someone’s road. Besides, that could have been your road, but for grace, but for a million and one variables over which you’ve had no control. Be grateful and be compassionate. Condemnation accomplishes nothing. Pray for him. Pray for her. Pray for yourself.

See? When we turn failure on its head, it becomes a gentle guide. We get to choose. And I freely admit that I don’t usually choose well, but I’m getting better.

This is what it means to establish new rhythms upheld by grace. It’s not about figuring it all ahead of time. It’s about forging ahead, knowing we’ll get it wrong a lot and knowing we’ll get it right sometimes too. It’s about living in the lab of the everyday and not being afraid of trial and error. It’s about trying anyway and knowing that grace is the safety net.

What if the greatest lessons, triumphs, and tipping points across your life are actually born out of failure — both your own failure and the failure of others toward you?

What if failure and disappointment could change you in the best ways far more than unending success every could?

I believe it’s possible because it’s the story of my own life and it can be the story of yours too. If you choose to receive it that way.

So will you?

Will you choose real life and redemption? Will you receive your own messy, disappoining, hopeful, beautiful life?

Let’s join hands and do it together.

Let’s make friends with failure.

Let’s walk the well-worn path of forgiveness, grace, and new beginnings.

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This is the 5th and final post in a series, “Grace in the New Rhythms: The ‘Non-Guru’s Non-Guide’ to Running a Small Country. Or Your Family. Or Just Your Day. When You’re Not Very Good at It, Like Me.”

Here are the rest of the posts in case you missed them.

Grace in the New Rhythms. Part 1.

Part 2. What’s Your Real Motivation for Wanting to Be Awesome?

Part 3. Know Your Own Life and Walk in Freedom.

Part 4. How to Manage Your Days When You’re “Type-ADD” Instead of Type A

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Thanks for joining me on this journey as we begin a new season and evaluate our everyday rhythms in the process. I hope it’s been helpful and encouraging. And I am always looking for real-life hacks that make the days and the tasks proceed with a bit more finesse and less gnashing of teeth. Share them with us?

Thanks for your generous feedback and grace to all of you as you seek to establish new rhythms and maybe even let Failure come along for the ride.

{I do have some helpful resources to share. I’ll put them in the next post.}

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Grace in the New Rhythms. Part 4: How to Manage Your Days When You’re Type ADD Instead of Type A

Perhaps most productive people approach their days like a speed skater — eyes on the goal, undistracted, full-steam ahead. If that’s the case, then I approach my days like a figure skater — twirling and cutting figure 8’s and over-applying lip gloss. And sometimes crashing into the wall because I’m not paying attention.

It’s painful to admit but I’m a Type A wannabe trapped in a distractible Type ADD person. Not in a hyperactive, high-energy way but in a dreamy, overthinking, struggles to complete a task before starting five others kind of way. Instead of conquering goals through a systematic, linear approach, I am sort of…circular. {See above reference to the figure 8s.}

I drive myself crazy with my haphazard ways.

The only thing I can sit down and complete from start to finish without distraction is writing. Believe it or not. But because I have laser focus and intensity while writing, I can easily neglect or forget about other things that need my attention. Things like laundry and housework and eating lunch and picking children up.

Kidding about that last one. Mostly kidding.

I would drown in the depths of the everyday if my Type-ADD-wanting-to-be-Type-A self hadn’t picked up a few hacks along the way. And with each triumph or failure, I continue to pick up more.

So this is the part of the series where I share the love and continue to embarrass myself along the way because who really wants to admit to going about life in such cuckoo ways?

Whether we’re really conscious of it or not, we all tend to develop compensation skills as we move through life. {It’s important to note that “coping skills” are not same thing as “compensation skills.” If Ben and Jerry or pretend online shopping show up on the scene, one might be coping, not compensating. Just thought I’d throw that out there.}

Here’s Marian’s list of personal hacks, the compensation skills I bring along for the person I am and the life I have, not to be confused with the person I wish I was or the life I sometimes wish I had.

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1. What helps me focus? {Since my brain is in overdrive all the livelong day.}

Taking notes when I need to really pay attention. {As you can see, I’m a big fan of the bullet point.} If I’m reading a needful article or book, if I’m organizing my thoughts, if I’m studying anything at all, I’ve got my pencil and journal. It’s the only way I don’t drift into Neverland.

Leaving my phone out of reach. Yeah, my smart phone has actually made my dumber because it has has only contributed to my distractibility and inefficiency. So I choose to sometimes leave it out of reach. I purposely leave it in another room or with the ringer off in my purse. I obviously can’t do this all the time because the school may call with a sick kid. But when everyone’s accounted for and I simply need to read, rest, or get work done, the iPhone gets banished.
Not multitasking when I’m doing work that matters. When I do, I’m prone to put dinner on the table and then tell all the kids to brush their teeth because it’s time for dinner and when I say such things, they will look at each other and laugh and say, “Mom, did you mean to say wash your hands instead of brush your teeth? And I will reply Yes — now please do what you know I meant to say and not what I actually said!” Sometimes multitasking is good. I don’t really talk on the phone much but when I do and I’m at home, I use the time to unload the dishwasher or some other dreaded task. But most of the time, multitasking only leads to multi-wreckage instead of increased productivity.

2. What helps me complete necessary tasks and goals?

Built-in accountability and deadlines. Plain and simple. I need these things for everything from getting the groceries in a timely manner to studying the Bible. The right amount of “pressure” forces me to accomplish my goals. Some people don’t need much external accountability to be productive. Some of them are even my friends and I’ve envied their efficient, self-startery ways. But we’re all different and I’ve accepted that I absolutely need external accountability for pretty much everything. Here are a a few examples.

Get groceries before I have to do something else — like pick up the kids from school. It gives me a built-in timer. Otherwise I will wander the aisles of Walmart like a lost child and buy $4 earrings I don’t need. {Like I did two weeks ago.} This is also why I love Aldi — tiny store, fewer choices, in and out.
Going to a Bible study that gives me directed study during the week and the accountability of meeting together. Otherwise I will try to study something on my own but not understand it and not have questions to keep me focused and I will stare, glassy-eyed and distracted, at the same page of Hebrews day-in and day-out. {Like I did this summer.} Or I won’t do it all because I lack direction and discipline.
Friends, deadlines, and dressing in workout clothes first thing if I want to work out. So I have done this many different ways depending on my schedule and season of life. I’ve gotten up crazy early to run but only if a friend or friends are waiting on me. Otherwise I will not get out of bed. Right now I’m injured and unable to run and this year’s schedule prevents me from going to the gym crazy early. So I got an early-bird membership at the gym. It’s cheaper but it also means I have to go before 11am, which means I do it in the morning or not at all. Getting dressed in workout clothes first thing tends to help too.

3. Compensating for my absent-mindedness. {Which is just downright embarrassing. I forgot my own anniversary last month if that tells you anything.}

Set alerts on my phone for everything. From remembering that I have carpool on a certain day to making a doctor’s appointment, my phone is literally my personal assistant.
The Weekly Calendar on our fridge. I am obsessive about this. Not because I am organized, but because I am not.

I transfer the schedule from my phone onto the dry-erase calendar at the beginning of each week. Seeing the week in black and white helps all of us to know what’s going on and also allows me to create margin when it’s missing. If I know I’ve got a crazy Thursday, it means I need some margin {code for nap, a nature walk, or a date on the sofa with my book} on Wednesday or Friday or both. And if the schedule is more jam-packed than I realized, I look at what’s negotiable and try to reschedule or just erase altogether. This is also the place where I write our dinner plans for each night. I can always change it but having a plan is 99% of the battle. Seeing just one week at a time keeps me from feeling overwhelmed. An entire month is a bit much for me.

4. Compensating for my utter dread of mundane but necessary tasks. {Like laundry, meal-planning, and cleaning.}

Binge-watch a show while you binge-fold the clothes. I am not systematic about laundry. Surprise! I know lots of fine and efficient ways to keep up with it and yet? I do not. The only thing that seems to work is letting it pile up to a reasonable amount {but not to a crazy, overwhelming, I want to go in a closet and cry amount} and then knock it all out in one fell swoop. Besides, this is the only way I’m able to keep up with quality television like Scandal and Parenthood. This is probably a terrible way for most people to do laundry but it works for me.
Watch Hoarders when you need to clean the house. Guys, I wish I was joking here. If my husband finds me watching Hoarders while folding clothes on a Saturday, he might say something like, So…I see you’ve got some cleaning planned. That crazy show truly lights a fire under me. I guess fear and disgust are powerful motivators. So is having company over. Oh and I also clean when I’m unbelievably stressed or angry. Basically, if I watched Hoarders every day, planned to have company once a week, and remained in a constant state of anger, my house would positively sparkle. {And let me just say this. If you’re a mom who works outside the home or works from home, consider hiring a house-cleaner. I so believe in this and have done it myself during seasons of work, even though we are not rich. We can’t do it all. Your time and energy may be better spent elsewhere.}
Put your kids to work. My boys clean their bathroom on Saturdays. The kids all clean their own rooms but this doesn’t mean they stay tidy. I make them do a clean sweep once a week so things don’t get out of control. Plus they’re learning to help with laundry and the dishes and it really makes a difference. As they get older, they’re contributing more. I don’t do chore charts or a fancy system. It’s more of a “Hey, your room is a mess so please clean it before you can go outside” or “I see you’re playing your iPod and therefore not busy so will you please unload the dishwasher?”
Find a meal plan that works for you and use it. There’s no perfect way for everyone. Some people are cook-in-bulk, freezer-meal people. Some of you have each meal written out for a month. Some may do coupons and then plan meals from your stockpile. My own process is pretty simple and has arrived after plenty of trial and error. I wrote about that process here if you’re interested. I don’t do this every month but it’s what I aim for. Because when I do, it saves major time, stress, and money.
Make lunches the day before. If I wait until the morning to make lunches, my children leave for school in tears. I’m not a morning person which basically means that I do not want to speak or be spoken to, nor do I want to rush or have to process lots of information. Once I’m awake, morning is my favorite time of day. But the process of waking cannot be rushed without soul-crushing consequences. I’m also not a late-night person. Apparently asking anything of me when I’m tired is just a bad idea. This means I avoid making lunches late at night or early in the morning. Instead I make them in the afternoon or while I’m already in the kitchen with dinner prep. This small accomplishment seems huge in my mind. And on a good day? I put out my boys’ clothes ahead of time too. {All of this to avoid the late-night or early-morning beast.}

5. Strike while the iron’s hot. Do the mundane while the iron’s not.

Work when your brain is at its best. As a writer, I know when my brain is at its best. I do 95% of my writing between 9am and 1:30 pm. I’ve found that when I spend my morning running errands and don’t get home until late morning or lunch time, I’m tired. My brainpower has lost its edge. So I’ve learned to put off other things and get. to. work. while my brain is at optimal capacity to produce.
Save the mundane for when you’re dumb. I can clean the kitchen, tidy the house, and make lunches when my brain has shut down its creative juices. I can do these things while my kids are working on homework at the kitchen table. When my kids first went to school, I thought I had to do all of the housework while they were gone and get my writing done. It never worked and I felt guilty all the time. For some reason, using the daytime to write and study and be a hermit felt wrong and indulgent. But I’ve learned that I actually have to do it this way or both things — my intellectual work and my housework — are done inefficiently and with much grumpiness and distraction.
Take advantage of ideas and impulses when they show up. We can’t always do this but I’ve found that when I’m feeling creative, I need to be creative. When I motivated to clean, I need to just stop the world and clean. When I’m inspired to work on the finances, I should. Why? Because I’ll complete the creative task or the cleaning or the budgeting with so much more gusto and efficiency than I would have otherwise. Real life means that we don’t always have the luxury of doing things when we feel like it and that’s not what I’m saying. But for flexible people like me, harnessing the specific energy that’s on the scene can work and it can work well. I wish I’d embraced this sort of life earlier instead of trying to cram unnecessary rigidity into my life and then always feeling guilty.

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You might be thinking that Marian actually sounds way more organized and productive than she claims to be. So many tips! So much inspiration! Just ask those who live with me and they’ll set you straight. All of these hacks are very much in process. Forty-one years of process. I don’t always manage my days with these tips in mind. I mismanage each and every day to a certain extent because I’m a person, not a machine. But each day I begin again. Each “failure” provides valuable information for trying a different way next time. And it goes without saying that life is fluid and unpredictable. Needs arise whether we’re prepared or not and days get thrown off course all the time.

The tension comes when we try to impose someone else’s personality onto our days, when we’re blind to our natural bents, or when we freak out each time life throws a curve ball.

Acceptance is always the first step.

For the most part, we can’t change our internal wiring and we definitely can’t change the “interruptions” or emergencies. But we can take a hard look at ourselves and reconcile our tasks and responsibilities with who we are. We can receive our days with grace and acceptance when the unexpected comes calling.

As you move forward into a new season, take inventory or who you are and your family’s needs. Then take inventory of the strategies that work well for you, regardless of how crazy they are. Start slow. Pick one. Hacks and habits don’t overhaul a life all at once. Be mindful of adopting a system that overwhelms you or that’s too complicated.

I have one more post in this “New Rhythms post.” We’re going to talk about the beauty of trial and error. As I’ve written this series, I’ve had some days that have literally blown up in my face. I’ve wanted to stop writing about this topic altogether. But failure provides the best data for each new day and I’m learning to see her as a friend rather than an enemy to my new rhythms.

If grace can’t keep us afloat through the days gone well and the days gone train wreck, we’re tempted to give up altogether or to try harder with clenched fists and teeth bared. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to live in either extreme.

Here’s to a new season and new rhythms upheld by grace.

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I would LOVE to know what works for you as you manage the everyday. What personal hacks and simple solutions have you found? Nothing is too crazy. Go.

Treat Yourself: Goodies for Your Weekend {8.30.14 edition}

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This song — it’s just too fun.

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Crack Pie.

{Image source}

So I have not actually made this. But I have eaten it. Does that count? My brother is a baker and he’s made this for us several times. I recently came across the recipe on Pinterest and now I have Crack Pie on the brain. It’s inexplicably good. {And hails from the Momofuku Milk Bar cookbook.}

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The Face-kini.

Article Lead - wide6094697110ab131409328303963.jpg-620x349 — {source}

My husband texted me a picture yesterday that said, “Want to see your next swimsuit?” They’re popular in China, apparently. Women there don’t want their faces to get dark because then they will “look like a peasant” {As stated by one swimmer wearing her ski-mask.}

I’m all for sun protection but I’d rather look like a peasant than a serial killer. Call me crazy.

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This book. The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness: The Path to True Christian Joy by Timothy Keller.

I mentioned this book in my series last week. Such an important read. Bonus? It’s really just a print version of a sermon so it will take you 45 minutes max. And you’ll keep going back to it.

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Let the Rhythm Move You by The Nester this week at Incourage. A great post on the difference between “routines” and “rhythms.”

Sometimes when I struggle with feeling guilty about something at home, I realize I’m trying to force a strict routine instead of falling into a healthy, welcoming rhythm.

So true. And a great companion post to my little series on “Grace in the New Rhythms.”

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And speaking of that series, I’ve posted the first three installments. My hope is that it will be timely encouragement for all of us as we seek to manage our days and our families in a way that is unique, intentional, and upheld by grace and freedom instead of forced along by striving and fear.

We’ll finish up next week. In case you’ve missed them, here you go.

Grace in the New Rhythms. A Series. Part 1.

Part 2: What’s Our Real Motivation for Wanting to be Awesome?

Part 3: Know Your Own Life and Walk in Freedom.

Have a great Labor Day Weekend, friends!

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Grace in the New Rhythms. Part 3: Know Your Own Life & Walk in Freedom

{This post is part 3 in a series. Here’s part 1 and part 2. Thanks for journeying along with me.}

The only thing that’s one size fits all is a scarf. It’s why they make great gifts. It’s why most anyone can accessorize with one. Scarves are awesome like that.

Rhythms and schedules and everyday life? Are not like scarves.

I know a few people who live very regimented lives. Their routines are clockwork and predictable. If they’re mothers, they were likely the ones with babies on well-timed schedules. They don’t deviate from the monthly meal-plan. Regimentation comes naturally for them and they likely find a great deal of security in their well-ordered days.

The rest of us live somewhere on the downward slope from that, ranging from “there is a reasonable amount of order embedded in my days and weeks” to “Meal plan? I don’t even know what I just ate for breakfast. Wait, did I eat breakfast?”

I’m glad that it takes all kinds to make the world go round.

Confusion, guilt, and striving enter in when we think we have to do life the way someone else does life. And it really gets dicey when someone who is at one end of the spectrum gains influence over a crowd through their platform of the “one best way.” I’m all for freedom of speech. And as a writer, I’m all for putting your message out there if it’s this burning thing in your soul. But I’m hesitant toward “one best way” books and blogs and experts. Just because someone has found the best way for them and it resonates as a best way for some others too, that doesn’t mean it’s the best way for you or even for most.

So settle in with your steamy mug of whatever or your breakfast. {If you’re one of those who forgot to eat it.} I’m going to share a few stories from the Ghost of Marian Past and introduce you to the freedom I’m discovering as I learn to live with intentional individuality.

JUST GIVE ME MY LABEL, PLEASE.

Fourteen years ago I was pregnant with my first child. After three pregnancy tests and a sudden disdain for coffee confirmed that there was a 6-week-old human being growing inside my body, I did what all overthinking, researchy, perfectionistic expectant mothers do. I hauled my nauseated self to the public library and checked out a stack of books.

And thus began my identity crisis as a mother. Was Babywise the right way to go or Dr. Sears? Do I co-sleep or put her in a crib? Will bouts of crying cause prolonged emotional devastation and detachment? Do I nurse her “on demand” or every three hours? Epidural or natural childbirth?

I wanted someone to hand me my label as a mother. I could see pros and cons to each approach but it seemed so all or nothing. I needed the “one best way” to do this scary thing called being a mom. How did our foremothers know what to do or who to be without All The Books?

I’d give absolutely anything to travel back in time and tell overwrought, angsty, pregnant Marian this bit of hard-won truth:

There is no best way, honey. There is you. There is your baby. There are your needs. There are her needs. Rejoice! You can stop reading books and start taking more naps. This baby of yours won’t sleep for the first two years of her life anyway so stock up on those zzzzz’s while you can. Mother her in the ways that works for you both. If she sleeps better next to you and you’re still able to sleep, do it.

Girl, you like options. You need freedom. Just embrace it. Don’t try to conform to a way that will feel constrictive and unnatural. Do what works for you in this season and quit feeling guilty. It will take some time, lots of trial and error, plenty of observation, a lowering of standards, and so much grace. Get used to it because that’s what parenting in general will require.

I was almost 28 years old and in grad school when I birthed this sweet insomniac of a girl. My husband was in school too. We both had lots of work but flexibility in the way we went about life. We lived in an area where I could walk everywhere — my office, local coffee shops, the library. And because our sweet baby loved being out and about and also believed that sleep was optional, I ended up taking her with me everywhere.

We didn’t stay home because it was nap-time or because I was tied to a schedule. Despite my efforts, she would not conform to any of my preconceived ideas of baby obedience and sleep. She would not conform to the books that the experts wrote. As it turns out, I did not give birth to a robot; I gave birth to a human being with a will of her own.

A very, very strong will of her own.

Without being conscious of it, I went about the business of making life work for us. I put a curtain up across my office cubicle “door” so that I could nurse her there. We splurged on a fancy running stroller and I bundled her up and took her with me on long runs, just the two of us. I’d strap her wiggly self to my body with in Baby Bjorn and we’d sit in coffee shops and share a scone.

It was a life. And a lovely one at that. My days were flexible. I only had one child. We lived in a fantastic place. My daughter and I bonded in those early months far more than I was even aware of.

Sadly, I wasn’t able to cherish most of it and do you know why? Guilt. Because my way didn’t look like any of the ways the baby-experts and their best-selling books were talking about. It didn’t resemble the lives of the young mothers in my church. It was just…our way. And because it didn’t feel like a “best way,” because it didn’t feel like any way but ours, I walked around guilty and unvalidated. I assumed I was managing my baby and my life all wrong.

That narrative has repeated itself many times throughout the various seasons of my life. I still sometimes struggle with it even today.

But I’ve learned so much along the way, all of it through trial and error and taking an honest look at who I am and who we are as a family.

HOW SHOULD IT LOOK FOR ME?

Good question. How does this knowledge of ourselves, our kids, our spouses, and our lives make a real difference in how we manage our everyday?

Here are some of the variables I take into consideration, variables I wish I’d considered fourteen years ago. If you’re naturally a self-aware person, you’ve likely considered these things already. If you’re not, it’s time to be on your introspective hat and dive in.

Personality

Introvert or extrovert? Are you drained by social interaction or energized by it.

Do you like to be at home or would your rather be out and about?

Are you a high-energy person or do you need a fair amount of downtime?

Does the idea of “routine” fill you with eagerness or make you break out in a rash? Are you somewhere in between?

How much do you value flexibility?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

When is your brain at its best?

{And these questions are the same ones to consider when you think about your kids or your spouse.}

Priorities

So we could write a book on establishing priorities and people certainly have. But it’s easy to make this too complicated. It’s also easy to think everything should be a priority, especially in today’s culture.

But if everything is a priority, then nothing is really a priority.

Certain priorities may be obvious — jobs, marriage, children, your faith and your faith community. But here’s where I’m going to meddle: What are your priorities “on paper” versus your real, functional priorities?

I’ll give you an example. I homeschooled for five years and during those five years I was also a wife, a manager of my home, and a fledgling blogger. In addition, I taught little kids one day a week in our homeschool group. Oh and I also worked part-time at our church during part of that season.

In theory, my marriage was a priority. In reality? Not so much. Homeschooling and parenting and interacting with tiny humans all day long took the best of me. My husband received the leftovers, which amounted to a scattering of crumbs on most days. Tired, sad, pitiful crumbs.

My number one priority suffered because my best time and energy went to things that should have been further down the list, but had somehow found their way to the top.

For a number of reasons, I no longer homeschool my kids. I’m slowly learning what real prioritization of marriage actually looks like. It’s hard work. I’m bad at it. Like, really bad. Old habits resurface on a daily basis.

But trying to make our marriage a priority has implications for the rest of my day when my husband isn’t even here. Because I recharge through time alone, I can’t over-schedule my week interacting with others. I have to be mindful of social interaction because even though I am relational, I’m also drained by people. My kids and my husband need a mom and a wife who hasn’t used up all her words and who still has the energy to listen to them. This doesn’t mean I don’t ever meet someone for coffee. I actually love saying yes to coffee with a friend. It simply means I am careful with my social commitments; I have to “ration” them.

I also consider my husband’s needs just as he considers mine. Every guy is different but one of the ways I show him love is by not overcommitting myself to the world around me. This matters to him. Everything comes at a cost. Every yes is a no and vice versa. Though I may be doing good things and helping others and even using my gifts, it costs something. It doesn’t mean that every opportunity is an automatic “no”; it simply means I weigh it carefully and I consider how it will impact those I love most and those God has called me to serve first in this season of my life.

Writing it all out makes it sound like I’ve got this down. I don’t. It may be a lifelong struggle. But I’m aware of how we want things to be. I’m trying. Change is slow but life is gradually beginning to reflect our priorities more than it has in the past.

Values

These overlap with priorities. I’m not going to look up the official definition of “values” because I think we know what it means in everyday terms: What do you hold dear?

Again, it’s easier to share how this looks in my everyday life rather than write down a list for you.

Obviously we value family and we value our faith. This means that we make decisions so that family and faith are protected and prioritized, cherished and fostered. It looks like eating dinner together most nights as a family. It looks like Friday family movie night. It looks like reading from the Gospel of John at the dinner table even though it feels like no one’s paying attention and our youngest child gets sent from the table almost every night. It means that corporate worship is a priority. It looks like everyday situations as a springboard to talk about the Gospel. It means serving where God has placed us. And it means that most of the time, we say no to other things — good things — that would encroach upon these values.

We also value rest and margin, both as individuals and as a family. This doesn’t mean that our life is leisurely, always restful, and stress-free. But it does mean we say no to opportunities that rob us of the necessary margin we need — physically, spiritually, emotionally, relationally. A life without space and buffer and breathing room is an anxious life indeed. I know because I’ve had that life and I’m still paying for it to a certain degree. We’ve learned about this one the hard way and we’re thankful for the grace to begin anew and to reign us back in when we forget. {I wrote about this in a series last fall entitled “A time for everything, but not everything all the time.”}

Limitations

This is a bad word in today’s “if you can believe it, you can achieve it” culture. We want a limitless horizon. We don’t just need to achieve; we want to over-achieve. We live in fear that our kids won’t find their niche if we don’t expose them to every good opportunity under the sun. We push our budgets, our time, our energy, and our families to the max because it seems like everyone else is getting ahead and we don’t want to be left behind.

But Scripture teaches something different, that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. Everything isn’t crammed into a single season and when we try to do that, we’re going against God’s design. But we have many seasons over the course of a lifetime, each one cradling its limited amount of activity.

Scripture also uses the concept of being “hemmed in,” a concept that has brought great freedom into our lives as we’ve accepted its loving protection and boundaries.

A few days ago I was reading Psalm 139. It’s one of my favorites because it’s all about the intricacy with which we’re known by God. It’s about our uniqueness and God’s complete knowledge of everything from our thoughts to our whereabouts.

Psalm 139:5 says, You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.

Do you see that? God guides us, loves us, and protects us by limiting us, by hemming us in. This gives me peace on the days when I’m tempted to think that I should be doing more or my kids should be doing more. Limiting ourselves is a way of trusting God with what He’s given us and with what He’s not given us. It’s truth we’ve used when we’ve told our kids why they’re not going to get to participate in something and truth that’s been our own consolation when we can’t get what we want.

Just when I think I’ve moved beyond this, something ignites a sense of panic that I’m not doing enough. Several days ago I was listening to a story on NPR about kids and sports. Some expert was talking about “sports sampling” with kids and how all the research confirms that the best athletes are not necessarily the ones who specialize early but the ones who sample a variety of sports for as long as they can.

And just like that, I questioned the decision my husband and I had made to not let our boys do an official fall sport this year. They’re each going to do a winter and spring sport and we wanted some margin in our calendar. So we said no to soccer this fall and yes to more time as a family, playing golf in the backyard, and basketball in the driveway.

But the guy on NPR made me question all of that. Oh no, we are not sports sampling! My boys are doomed as athletes! They will blame us when they don’t make it to the NBA!

And that’s why values matter. Values have to pull me back in when I’m tempted to jump ship and overcommit my family. Values guide my decisions and guard the ones I love. Values can even provide limitations. We’ve said no to our kids {and to ourselves} when we have so wanted to say yes. We’ve said no to activities because we were limited financially. We’ve said no to great opportunities because we were limited by time and energy.

You have limitations that I don’t. I have limitations that you don’t. We each have different gifts, different financial portfolios, different family sizes, and different values. Though I’m still prone to forget, I’m learning to see limitations as gifts.

In her book, The Nesting Place: It Doesn’t Have to be Perfect to be Beautiful, Myquillyn Smith has an entire chapter called “Lovely Limitations.” It may be my favorite chapter because it’s really about freedom and embracing what’s ours instead of striving to attain what’s not. I started reading Myquillyn’s blog years ago and she’s the one who inspired me to show up in my home with what I had instead of focusing on what I didn’t. She’s the one who had me “mistreating” my windows with scraps of fabric and upholstery tacks instead of waiting on expensive silk drapes and fancy curtain rods.

Here’s what she says about the beauty of limitations. Though she’s talking specifically here about our homes, the concept applies to the attitude we have about being “hemmed in” as we move through the ins and outs of our days.

We may think it would be easier to work without the limitations of an odd-shaped room or a tight budget…but having no limits can be debilitating. When you have no limits, you put off making a decision because there are so many options. I’ve gotten to the point of craving limits, because I know that some of my best projects have come out of what I didn’t have.

That’s freedom and grace. That’s seeing our personalities, our priorities, our values and our limitations not as enemies but as friends. Wise and wonderful friends who sit down on the sofa next to you and hand you a cup of tea. Friends who remind you that your life, your family, your home, your schedule, your budget, and your meal plan shouldn’t look like someone else’s or be ripped from the pages of a Home Economics book.

What if the life that yields to limitations, that yields to what you don’t have, can better reflect your uniqueness, your priorities, and your values? I believe it can because we’ve experienced it first-hand in myriad ways. Some of my most freeing decisions and even some of the hacks I use to manage my days have been born out of limitation.

In embracing what I offer and what I can’t offer, I’ve found that life is more fulfilling and honest.

I’m not saying that freedom is a license for chaos and crazy. Freedom is simply permission to live with unique intentionality based about your you-ness, your family’s their-ness, and your life’s limitations. Freedom is the infusion of all of these things with your values and priorities. Toss it all together and you get a gift — a beautiful, one-of-a-kind gift.

It takes courage to live with intentional individuality. But once your start, you get a taste of freedom and realize that it’s going to be okay after all. It might even be kind of great.

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I know, I know. We haven’t gotten to the strategies or “hacks” yet. That’s coming next, I promise. But as with everything I write, it’s three parts thinking / memoir to one part doing. That’s on purpose. If the doing comes before the thinking, I find that I may be spinning my wheels in all the wrong ways or spinning them according to someone else’s ways and for all the wrong reasons.

The next post will deal with things like why I can only go to the store before I have to be somewhere else and why I don’t clean up my house before I sit down to write. It will cover the {kind of embarrassing} ways I have to do things because my personality is so wonky with its whims and distractability and unbridled-ness. And hopefully it will get you thinking about your own unique self and some creative ways to boss around your time so that it doesn’t keep getting the best of you.

And if you are still reading, I realize that this post has broken all the rules of the blogosphere. It has way too many words. It gives you too much to think about. Whenever I write a series, my posts get too long. I try to break them up but then it feels all wrong and drags out the series. As with everything else, maybe blogging doesn’t always have a “one best way” either. That’s what I’m hoping anyway.

Thanks for spending your time here and for providing your own thoughts along the way.

How does real life attempt to undermine your priorities, values, or limitations? Or how does comparison rob you of the confidence to carry on in a way that works for you?

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Grace in the New Rhythms. Part 2: What’s Your Real Motivation for Wanting to be Awesome?

This is Part 2 of a series as we begin a new season. Here’s Part 1.

When you decide to write a series like this, one that’s about managing your days with grace, take into consideration that your days may completely fall apart in the process.

I spent several hours last Saturday morning working on this series. Knee-deep in big thoughts and notes and highlighted sections of text, I was feeling rather wise and pleased. In fact, I was so deep in all of my big thoughts that I kept writing at least an hour after I’d planned to stop. And when I noticed the time, I realized I needed to throw some brownies in the oven and get a shower because we had a party to attend at 2:30.

Except that the party began at 2:00 and not 2:30.

As I flew around in a panic, foregoing a shower and lunch, bossing everyone around, hating myself for writing down the wrong time, a certain child suddenly realized the whole family was going to this party and commenced to have a meltdown because we are “embarrassing.”

Another child, who had felt sorely mistreated the whole day and deemed that particular Saturday as “utterly cursed,” commenced to running away from home.

The third child was just trying to find a bathing suit that fit because all the suits had been thrown in one big bin and this child often comes out wearing clothes that don’t actually belong to him.

And I, the illustrious organizer of the whole troupe, commenced to dropping the glass pan of hot brownies onto the concrete driveway on my frantic sprint to the van.

As my husband pulled into the driveway after retrieving the runaway, he surveyed the mess — the glass, the mountain of gooey chocolate, the bewildered wife standing speechless and motionless over the scene — and decided that the party would not be a family affair after all. He would clean up the mess and deal with the other two kids. I would take just the one child to the party. Without the “embarrassing” siblings. Without brownies. Without my wits.

Without much grace, if I’m being honest.

{Here’s proof.}

And just like that, my approval rating plummeted. I was no longer pleased with my big thoughts and big words. I was no longer sure of myself. I wanted to scrap this series altogether because who am I to write even two words about establishing new rhythms and managing my days and being upheld by grace? I cannot even manage the correct time for a party. Or a pan of brownies.

Friends, I need this series more than anyone. I’m in the trenches of trial and error. I am my own Exhibit A every single day. I’m the living, breathing definition of a non-expert and that means I take nothing for granted. I approach this issue with a heart that is desperate and days that are messy.

Maybe you’re in the same place.

Originally I’d planned to talk about our “real motivations” at the end of the series. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that we need a framework first. Corporations and institutions craft vision statements and then the particulars of what they do flow out of that vision. It’s just as important for us as everyday people juggling homes and careers and families to think through the whys and the implications before we walk around in the real.

I’m not going to tell you to write up a mission statement for yourself or your family, though you can if that’s your thing. I’m going to ask you a simple question:

What’s motivating you to manage your day, your family, your life with more finesse or “success” than you currently feel you’re bringing to the table?

Think hard and honestly about this. I’ll wait.

It’s only fair that I go first. These are not the answers I “should” provide; these are my real and true motivations. Ready?

1. I want to feel like I’m doing a fine job running my life. I want to be awesome at this. I’d like to feel successful. I want fewer dumb and embarrassing mistakes.

2. Productivity. I’d like plenty to show for my day and for my life. Plain and simple.

3. Less stress. We moderns are used to living stressful lives. At times we even communicate that we’re rather proud of it: I’m so busy! Life is crazy! I’m exhausted. In a way, we are saying to the world, I am so busy and juggling all the important endeavors in my over-scheduled, important life and yes it’s stressful and exhausting but I. am. on. it. We want the world {and ourselves} to either by impressed by us or feel sorry for us. Either way it’s about stress and it’s about us and therefore problematic.

4. Simplicity. I complicate things. And by “things” I mean almost everything. I find that life is better for everyone when I don’t do that. Whether it’s meal-planning or clothes or our schedule, simplicity breeds margin, less physical and mental clutter, and more overall peace. Complication breeds crazy. I’ve noticed a movement toward intentional simplicity. Blogs about simplicity. Shows about simple, smaller houses. Books about minimalism. I’m drawn to all of that. But then the implementation of it feels like its own sort of complication and I’m right back where I started: stressed and guilty and crazy and binge-watching Scandal. Because that feels simple.

5. I’d like to manage my life in such a way that it blesses those around me. Finally, a somewhat virtuous answer. We all have those whom we love. We each have a sphere of influence. We have families. We live in community. We are created for relationship, to love and to be loved.

When I manage my time and my tasks well, the blessing of that spills over into the lives of those I love. In practical ways, it means I may have dinner on the table in a timely manner or laundry washed and in the drawers. It means I’m not multitasking to the point of being distracted when my husband and kids are trying to tell me something. And when that actually comes together in real life, it feels so good and right.

Less stress and managing my time well means that I am available and listening. It means I’m a nicer, gentler, more attentive person and those gifts overflow into my home and my world. It’s a taste of “shalom.”

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All of my answers could be posts in and of themselves. But that’s not the point. The point is to think through the real motivations of our hearts, no matter how noble or unsavory they may be. Scripture reminds us of how influential our hearts really are:

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.

Proverbs 4:23

You don’t have to be religious to recognize that our internal lives have a lot to do with how to we live our external lives. Our fears, our faith, our ambitions — they are powerful internal forces that guide us in what we do…or choose not to do.

Back to our answers. Most of us probably agree that there’s nothing wrong with my answers. There’s probably nothing inherently wrong with yours either. What’s bad about wanting success? Fewer mistakes? Less stress? Blessing others?

On the surface, nothing. Necessarily.

But dig a little deeper and you’ll find some ugly.

You’ll find a whole lot of pride masquerading in surface-level virtues.

When I’m honest, I admit that every day, throughout the day, I am the gavel-in-hand, black-robed judge of my own life, issuing verdicts all day long like the ticker tape that travels across the bottom of the CNN news feed. Or I’m imagining that everyone else is the black-robed judge of my own life. Either way, I’m always on trial. I’m motivated by a host of unsavory characters: fear of failure, my performance, the praise of others, the criticism of others. And all of these flow out of the most insidious, shape-shifting bad guy of all — pride.

Several years ago I listened to a sermon by Timothy Keller called “Blessed Self-Forgetfulness.” He uses a passage from I Corinthians to teach about the human ego and how the Gospel promotes an utterly different approach than either ancient or modern cultures. The Gospel’s approach to ego isn’t about high self-esteem. It’s not about low self-esteem either. It’s about something that’s entirely off our maps. And that something is “the freedom of self-forgetfulness.”

That sermon has since been printed into a small booklet that’s been keeping me company lately. In The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness: The Path to True Christian Joy, Keller says this about the everyday courtroom in which we all live:

We look for that ultimate verdict every day in all the situations and people around us. And that means that every single day, we are on trial. Every day, we put ourselves back in a courtroom…That is the way that everyone’s identity works. In the courtroom, you have the prosecution and the defense. And everything we do is providing evidence for the prosecution or evidence for the defense. Some days we feel we are winning the trial and some days we feel we are losing it.

I know what you may be thinking. Marian, I thought this was going to be a tidy little series with gentle strategies to manage my days and my family with ease and grace. You are going too deep, sister. You’re getting theological and philosophical about this. Can we just get to the part about time-management already?

We could. But I’ve found that until we take a long and squinty-eyed look into the recesses of our hearts and uncover the true motivations, we may accomplish some of our goals but we’ll still be striving. Constantly striving. We won’t find real and sustained rest. We’ll still have fear and performance and the black-robed judge nipping at our heels all the livelong day.

Because sometimes we really do need fresh and new ways of doing things. But more than that, we need honest ways of thinking about how and why and for whom we do all the things.

I’m a Christian and that means my motivations will be different from those of you who are not. I so wish I could write about motivations and verdicts in a way that’s for everyone. But I can’t. The practical hacks coming in the next post? Those are for everyone. But this part, for me, is deeply rooted in my faith and I can’t write honestly without it.

In all other religions and even for those who don’t believe in a god, our daily and cumulative performance leads to a verdict. We need the verdict to confirm all that we’ve been striving for. Not so with Christianity. And this leads us back to the Self-Forgetfulness book. Keller asks this simple but profound question:

Do you realize that it is only in the gospel of Jesus Christ that you get the verdict before the performance?

…In Christianity, the moment we believe, God imputes Christ’s perfect performance to us as if it were our own, and adopts us into His Family. In other words, God can say to us just as He once said to Christ, ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.’ You see, the verdict is in. And now I perform on the basis of the verdict…I can do things for the joy of doing them. I can help people to help people — not so I can feel better about myself…

This is the Gospel. This is how the life, death, and resurrection of Christ impacts everything from how I spend my time and govern my days to how I think about how I’ve spent my time and governed my days.

It’s simple. But don’t confuse that with easy.

Living a Gospel-saturated life begins with thinking through, praying through, talking through, and reading through Gospel-saturated truth. It is a Gospel-driven intentionality in all that we do. Because only the Gospel can spur us on to say and to live what the Apostle Paul was able to say and to live when He wrote to the church in Corinth.

I care very little if I am judged by you or by an human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear; but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. I Corinthians 4:3-4

For me, for the way I’m wired with all of my neuroses and fear and people-pleasing, those six words — I do not even judge myself — are some of the most powerful words in all of Scripture. I need them emblazoned across my forehead and bathroom mirror and window above the kitchen sink.

This is Gospel-centered freedom. Jesus frees us from our self-obsession and our success-obsession. His great love and forgiveness frees us to live out of our gifts and out of our weakness. To live and to serve in our spheres of influence. To enjoy moments of great success and stellar performance, and to not self-destruct in moments of great failure and stinging criticism.

And this is the Truth and the Person that must ground everything from getting five days worth of breakfasts, lunches, and dinners made to juggling the weekly calendar for a family for five. This is the freedom that steadies me and readies me for the days that go as planned and for the days that come out of left field and leave me slack-jawed over a pan of brownies in my driveway and a runaway child. This is the freedom that can motivate me from a place of real, Gospel-centered love and also console me when I get it all wrong.

The days are both too short and too long. Our lives are tangled and complicated. We’re satisfied with too little and also too much. And in the midst of all, we hear a thousand voices tell us how it’s supposed to look. Most of all, we hear our own voice telling us how it’s supposed to look.

But Jesus speaks with a different voice. A voice that silences the others because the verdict is in and the judges can all go home. He speaks with approval and affirmation and forgiveness.

We are not any more loved or free or important on the days when we get it right than on the days when we get it wrong. Whether we forgot the baggies or forgot their soccer practice, whether we met the deadline or messed up dinner — the only verdict that matters is already in.

Yes, our work matters. It is good and sacred. It blesses our families, our businesses, and our world. But it’s not our true identity. That’s found in the One who has already performed perfectly.

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The next posts will start breaking things down. We’ll get practical. We’ll think through our individualities, talk about when our brains and skills are at their best, learn to compensate for the ways in which we are not so awesome, and hopefully see the beauty of trial and error. I’ll share some of the strategies that work for me and for my cuckoo personality type — strategies that are still very much in formation. {Strategies make it sound so very professional and legit. Let’s be clear. These are everyday hacks, nothing more.} I’d also like to share a few resources that have helped and would love for you to share some of yours too.

If you don’t want to miss a post in the series, you can subscribe by e-mail in the box below. Feel free to unsubscribe anytime you like.

Grace in the New Rhythms. A Series.

I specialize in long subtitles, as you can see from the above photo. That’s because I don’t want you dear readers to be misinformed. I don’t want you to think this is a “7 Ways to Be Awesome at Everything” sort of post, written by an expert at being awesome. If you are already awesome at everything or even at many things, you can stop reading and get back to your Martha Stewart Living magazine.

Because we’re only four days into the new school-year and I’m already hearing the judgey voices that chatter about in my head, the voices that tell me I should be managing life with a little more know-how and finesse.

How did you run out of baggies? For the love, it is the first week of school.

I can’t believe you mindlessly wandered the aisles of Walmart for that long.

Why didn’t you realize they’d lost all the ice packs from last year? Their cheese sticks will be warm and soggy by lunchtime.

You shouldn’t feel so tired today. You are a stay at home mom / writer and all of your kids are in school.

Most of the nagging guilt during my days has to do with time and energy management, things I’ve always stewarded rather poorly. But ironically, one of my most cherished commodities is time. Preferably time alone. This is partly because I’m a mother and partly because I’m an introvert who recharges through time alone and not feeling rushed or needed. And because I love my time like it is a small, furry, cuddly pet, you’d think I’d be better at managing it.

Things get kind of complicated when you consider that I’m also sort of ADD {I prefer the terms “spontaneous” or “distractable”.} And I have a bothersome addiction to wanting to be productive and efficient.

Combine these characteristics with being a daydreamer from as early as I can remember. And an over-thinker. And a creative. And a recovering academic who can’t shut down her critical thinking skills. And maybe a perfectionist.

What do you get?

A hot mess, that’s what. An angsty, fearful, scatterbrained, overthinking, overwrought mess of a person. You get someone who outwardly looks okay but is actually an inwardly frazzled grown-up whose goals for the day are constantly being sabotaged by the thoughts and whims that go rogue, one whose real-life outcomes can’t quite catch up to her ideal-life expectations but that sure doesn’t stop her from trying.

It’s a messy ride when one is such a mixed bag. Maybe I’m not the only one.

I’ve been doing some cleaning out, going through old letters and journals, even stumbling upon my report cards that date back to 1979. These artifacts have triggered a lot of memories and observations. Though I was a decent student through school, I also recall completely zoning out for entire class periods — particularly math — and then frantically trying to learn later what had been taught in class, usually from a friend or by going in to meet with the teacher or staying up late with the textbook. I never quite learned to capitalize on the best time / task combination. I ran away with my thoughts when they came to me {whether I was traipsing through a meadow when I was supposed to be Geometry-proofing or imagining that the boy I liked actually liked me back.}

Somehow, somehow I usually reached the necessary goals but with a ridiculous amount of stress, anxiety, blame-shifting, and last-minute panicking. I may have been daydreamy and bad at math but I was still ambitious. As early as middle school, I stayed up as late as I needed to and did whatever I could to get the job done. Not turning something in wasn’t an option. But sleep and sanity seemed negotiable.

Looking back, I realized that young Marian could’ve used a little more help governing her life and responsibilities. And possibly a little bit of medicine and a lot more sleep.

I’d love to tell you I’m different at 41 than I was at 14. Alas, we are pretty much the same girl / woman. Only now I will usually choose sleep over an unfinished task. And I have a lot more self-awareness.

But if left to myself, the trajectory of my day can easily jerk from contemplation to consternation, from peacefulness to panic. And so I’m prone to live in a state of reactionary whiplash and much of this comes down to the issues of priorities, time, and accepting who I am.

I say that like it’s easy. The truth is, acceptance is a daily fight when you’re too introspective and a living, breathing paradox. This does not make for tidy categories or tidy living. Because how can you be Type A and also Type ADD and not live in a perpetual state of frustration and condemnation? I wouldn’t know.

Most days I feel like a cosmic joke, like God said to himself when He made me, “I’m going to fill this one up with enough contradiction for a hundred people. She’ll be like a wind-up toy that whizzes around in zig-zags and circles…and then she will run out of both zig and zag, come to a screeching halt, and fall on her face. It will be hilarious.”

I know, I know. God’s not like that. But I question — all the time — why I think and operate in such complicated, non-linear ways. It’s hard to feel so incongruous in everything from my tastes to my habits. {Or lack thereof.}

I need order and rhythms and knowing what’s ahead, but also creativity and spontaneity and surprises. I crave organization, but often find myself scribbling notes, appointments, and thoughts on whatever piece of paper / gum wrapper / back of hand that’s closest to me. I’m passionate about delicious food and I love to cook, but dread the dailyness of dinner.

And then there are the big, consequential ironies. How all my life I dreamed of being a wife and a mom and also Martha Stewart. But then marriage and motherhood and domesticity came along and I had finally to accept that they are such unnatural roles for me. Being a nurturer and loving to be needed and having compassion for paper cuts — so not part of my natural skill-set. But very much a part of my real-life responsibilities.

I can tell you the theological terms for this sort of tension. How this is for my “sanctification” and all of that. And it is. It definitely is. But that doesn’t change the fact that nineteen years into marriage and thirteen years into motherhood, I’m still kind of Neanderthal about the whole thing: “Me wife. Me mommy. Me go make fire to cook dinner. Me go kill animals and get skins so you have clothes to wear. Me pretend feel sorry for boo-boo. Me want alone-time.”

On many occasions, I’ve asked God what I’m doing being married to an actual husband who deserves a wife with a clue and molding the lives of actual human beings who will one day be grown-ups, hopefully of the non-Neanderthal variety.

{Clearly I have digressed to the outer reaches of this topic and am now using my blog as a virtual confession booth. Forgive me.}

Here’s the point I am circuitously trying to make. We’re not necessarily “good” or naturally gifted at showing up for the life we really have. We may not be adept at doing life the way we should or the way we think we should. We may find that we don’t have the skill-set we’d hoped to have for the life we’ve actually chosen. And sooner or later, we will definitely find that we don’t have the skill-set for the life or the season or even just the day that we didn’t choose but have been handed anyway.

It’s the theme of everything I’ve written about for the last six years: receiving your own life.

It’s about the intersection of real life and grace and redemption. It’s about moving forward with acceptance and hope instead of resentment and bitterness.

It’s about freedom. Freedom from comparison, freedom from blame, freedom from pretense, freedom from trying to live someone else’s life and instead, embracing the one right in front of you. The one that’s messy and sometimes feels like a joke. The one that holds more beauty and possibility than you can see on an everyday Thursday when you burned the taco meat and forgot to pay that bill and feel like you’re getting it all wrong.

So in this little series on new rhythms and grace, I will continue spilling my pathetic guts to the whole wide world and it’s a little embarrassing. Why would anyone do such a thing? Because I want you to grasp that I’m a person who desperately needs to receive grace as I try to establish rhythms and practices for myself and my family at the start of a new school-year. I’m a certified non-expert, a hack. And as you can see, rhythms and routines and stellar time management don’t come naturally to me.

Neither does grace.

Maybe they don’t come naturally to you either. Maybe you feel like a distracted, struggling, Neanderthal and you could use a pep-talk like this series written by a struggling non-guru like me. If so, welcome. Me glad you here. Grunt.

This short series isn’t exactly a how-to on organization for the absent-minded person or how to be more disciplined! or anything like that. I don’t promote “systems” because there is no one-size-fits-all way of doing anything. But I am learning a few things about establishing workable rhythms based on my personality, my priorities, and my individual family. I’m learning which variables needed to be taken into consideration.

Most of all, I’m learning a lot about the undercurrent of grace that holds us all up through the trial and error of it all.

Originally I thought this was just going to be one post. But sometimes you get going on a theme and discover you’re 1,850 words in and there’s much more to say than you first realized. A series is just a fancy way of saying that we’ll continue this conversation next week. I hope you’ll join in.

If you don’t want to miss a post in the series, you can subscribe by e-mail in the box below. Feel free to unsubscribe anytime you like.

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So what about you? Do you struggle with time management? Are you good at establishing rhythms but not-so-great at maintaining them? Do you structure your life based on what works for someone else instead what works in real life for you? Do you see trial and error as a gift or as failure? Are you struggling to keep up with all that you’ve committed yourself to? These are some of the thoughts I’d like to explore as we all begin anew this fall.

I’d love to hear from you as you navigate these issues in your own real life. I welcome your questions and thoughts. We can dish about them in the comments or on the blog’s facebook and twitter pages.

When Summer Fell Flat But They Got Awesome at Minecraft

Hi! How was your summer?

That’s great!

How was my summer?

I plead the 5th.

Nothing — and I mean nothing — about this summer is what I expected it to be. I got awesome at sweating and stressing and my kids got awesome at iPad apps and watching Minecraft videos. My boys now know that you can actually get rich playing video games professionally and posting YouTube videos about it.

This is information I wish they could un-know.

A week ago I ate dinner at 12:30 in the A.M. So technically, I skipped Sunday’s dinner and ate a way early Monday breakfast of lukewarm beans and rice. I share that random bit of trivia because it’s sort of a barometer of life as I’ve known it lately.

Summer was moving right along and then we decided in early July to get our house ready to sell. We hadn’t planned on it. But as we considered the future and took a squinty-eyed look at some things, we decided that yes, we could actually try to sell our sweet abode and perhaps move closer to where much of our living takes place so that my primary place of residence is not a crumb-laden, high-mileage Toyota Sienna.

And so we said yes and hired some stuff out and worked our fingers to the bone and that’s when Crazy and all her relatives decided to show up and prop their grubby feet right up on the coffee table. Major appliances broke. Minor appliances broke. All sorts of things that are much bigger than appliances also broke. Things like plans and expectations and budgets and having a clue. And in the process, my sanity and confidence broke a little bit too.

Apparently so did my sweat glands because I felt like I lived in a state of perpetual perspiration. It’s like menopause swooped in for the summer and stole my deodorant just to show me how fun life is going to be in about 10 years.

I’ve cried nearly every day of the summer. Because stress makes me cry but so does nostalgia. I’ve lived longer in this house than any house in which I’ve ever lived. Some of the best days of my life happened in this house and also some of the very worst. It’s a mixed bag but it’s ours. This house and this ‘hood have been our home for 9 years and when I visualize another place, it feels like I’m cheating on this one.

When the house finally listed, I couldn’t bring myself to put the sign in the yard for two days. I couldn’t even talk about it.

And all of this is why I haven’t been able to write or blog or think. The loudness of life has drowned out the quiet and numbed my ability to listen. Rest has seemed laughable. Stress has skewed my perspective. I’ve insulated and isolated and not exercised and eaten an array of new Ben and Jerry’s flavors {win}. My clothes don’t exactly fit and my nerves are rather frayed and I’ve told myself that I’ll put this old girl back together again once the kids start school.

Because how do you make a house look not lived in when five people live here? How do you make needful headway when three children and a dog are home all day and they need things like food and water and band-aids and baths and a nice mom?

I wouldn’t know. I have simply survived. We all have. We’ve also helped that sector of our local economy which specializes in prepared food that passes through windows.

And all of this has a way of making a mom with hopes and expectations for the summer feel like quite a failure by summer’s end.

Summers can be the best of times and the worst of times. I doubt our foremothers were wrought with as much expectation as we modern moms. They were too busy canning vegetables and not getting sucked into the internet. Meanwhile their children were milking cows and then playing unsupervised until dinnertime. They didn’t have Pinterest and blogs and social media vacation photos to make them feel like their lives didn’t quite measure up. I kind of envy those pre-internet moms.

All I can see is the good and the fun and the plans left undone.

All I can ask for is forgiveness and redemption.

Yet in the midst of the crazy and the dashed expectations and the disappointing outcomes, God has been here and He has been so good.

He has sent such personal help and kindness. He has reminded me of who He is and what He can do, usually in the midst of very broken moments. He has been my God here in what feels like Chapter 197 of “The Unfixable Life.” He has kept loving me even though I’ve chosen badly on any given day and I don’t always know if I’m making the right decisions and I feel overwhelmed and so much of life seems “off.” He has seen what I lack but reminded me to be grateful. He has shown me some messy truth that I’ve needed to see even though it’s hurt and I’ve wanted to look away.

He has sustained all of us even though our little world has felt flung into chaos.

I keep coming back to this verse in Hebrews:

and he upholds the universe by the word of his power…

Each time I read it, my shoulders loosen and I exhale the deep breath I don’t even realize I’m holding. I let go of the control I never had to begin with and I know that I have one real job to do. And that is to trust.

To trust the Universe Holder with everything from rioting cities and broken people to the houses we live in and a summer that desperately needs redemption. To trust Him with their school-year that feels scary and my faith that seems fragile. At best.

To simply trust Him with all that has gone before and all that is yet to come because He upholds it all.

And therefore we don’t have to. We simply carry on, one day at a time, knowing that we can plan our way but it’s the Lord who establishes our steps on this spinning globe. When I really believe that, it changes everything.

Seasons end and new ones begin.

Disappointment fades a bit as acceptance and hope take root.

I count the gifts of all that is good and right. I look back and choose to see the lovely days and moments in the midst of the messy ones: finishing our two-year journey together with Harry, Ron, and Hermione; watching my boys play golf; precious visits from far-away friends; spending time with family; eating too much ice-cream; sleeping in…oh the sleeping in.

I accept that big decisions can heave our everydays into stress and chaos from which we feel like we will never return. It happens. It’s hard. But it is temporary and we’ve all been in it together. It may not have felt like “quality time” but it was time together and that matters more than we think.

I especially acknowledge that children will see these summer days far differently than I probably see them. And that my boys may well declare the Summer of 2014 as the Summer of Minecraft Domination / The Summer I Decided to Give My Life to Professional Gaming / The Summer I Quit My Brain. / The Summer of Win?

We can only go up from here.

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I loved this post yesterday by Gina Detweiler: For the mom who feels like she failed summer.

And then there’s this classic post from last summer — Worst End of Summer Mom Ever {A Sequel} — by Jen Hatmaker that’s so worth re-reading {while not sipping a fizzy beverage because it will surely come out of your nose and burn your mucous membranes while you are laughing and crying in agreement.}

Moral of the story? You’re not alone.

As much as we’re all ready for the freedom from schedules and routine by the end of May, most of us are equally desperate for the order and structure of a new school-year and the consolation that formal education will save our sweet children from a future of professional Minecrafting, lucrative though it may be.

So if you see me at my local Starbucks today, eyes glazed over despite my second macchiato, just pat me on the back and say, “You made it through the summer, soldier. Now go take a nap. You’ve earned it.”

6 Things I’ve Learned in July

It’s time to share the things we’ve learned this summer. The What We Learned posts are hosted by Emily Freeman as a “monthly community link-up to share the fascinating, ridiculous, sacred, or small.” Mine is usually just ridiculous. Want to know more of what I’m talking about? Go here.

In no particular order, here are things I’ve learned in July.

1. I do not understand boys but I totally love being their mom.

When I envisioned myself as a mom, I always had more boys than girls. And even though I am a girly girl all the way, I loved the idea of a house full of boys. As fate would have it, the boys do indeed outnumber the girls in our house and from a hormonal standpoint, we are all grateful. My boys are 10 and 6. I worried about the 4-year age difference between them but they are fast becoming the very best of friends. This summer has shown me that and it has been a sweet, needful gift in the midst of all the crazy.

They memorize raps and coach each other on how to get more words into one breath. {Of course they are totally rapping their Bible verses here and not “Can’t Hold Us.”}

And they are all hopped up on American Ninja Warrior.

I’m convinced that they can turn anything larger than a 4 x 4 foot space into an obstacle course. Their bedroom doorway is the spider climb. Random posters strewn across the floor are the landing spots. Sit-ups and push-ups and counting each other’s abs are daily rituals. Last night I was tucking my littlest one in bed and he asked me if I could count his “back abs”. “What are those?” I asked. “You know mom, the abs on my back. How many do I have?”

And that’s why little boys are totally awesome.

They have driven me out of my ever-lovin’ mind this summer with their noise and hooligan-ness and empty popsicle wrappers never ever in the trash can. But they have made me smile and laugh and thank Jesus for the gift of boys more times than I can count.

2. Maple syrup is my favorite coffee sweetener.

Sounds crazy but trust me. A teaspoon of real maple syrup in your coffee is perfection. My sister-in-law got me started on this and I’m never going back. It’s important to note that you must use real maple syrup. Do not, I repeat, do not go putting Mrs. Butterworth’s in your brew because that would be gross.

3. The world needs more chip and guac hats.

Nothing is wrong. I’m just chilling with the guac…from my chip hat. — Gru from Despicable Me 2

We saw Despicable Me 2 again at the free summer movies a few weeks ago. My sister and I decided that these hats need to go mainstream. Dear Walmart, please make chip and guac hats so that we can all snack our worries away while looking wonderfully ridiculous and laughing at one another. I feel like I could handle anything with one of these hats. {And a side of frozen margarita.}

4. Target donates stuff to Goodwill.

Do you know about this? Our Goodwill sells brand new goodies from Target. I guess it’s returns and overstocks. Anyway, I found two of these lovely Nate Berkus for Target tables this summer, brand new and just waiting for me amid the ceramic kitties and dusty old afghans.

Hello lover, with your faux mercury glass tops and gold frames. Please get in my minivan. Never mind those two wild boys counting abs and dripping slushie juice in the backseat.

It’s like a marriage between my two favorite stores. {T + GW 4 Ever}

5. I’m not as young as I used to be.

News flash, right?

We have some major projects and upheaval right now and in days gone by, I would have stayed up super late and consumed lots of coffee and gutted it out because I’m all about getting the job done.

Not so much now that I’m over 40. When the sun goes down, Marian is tired and can no longer work. The energy of my youth is now laughable. And I don’t ever plan on pulling an all-nighter for anything ever again. Unless there is a all-night Nate Berkus for Target overstock clearance extravaganza at the local Goodwill.

Anyway, my old-age exhaustion has been both frustrating and freeing. We all have our limitations. In my good moments, I can accept them with a sense of peace and gentleness toward myself. In my anxious moments, I tend to resent them and try to barrel ahead anyway. The latter approach never ends well. But still, I am slow to learn.

6. Several hours of quiet {in my own home or somewhere without other people} is priceless.

I’m a mom who also happens to be an introvert. I actually love people but I’m drained by social interaction instead of fueled by it. That includes interaction within my own home….especially within my own home. Steady doses of time alone are the way I recharge and maintain sanity. But this summer? It has not happened. I had my first ever time alone in months here at my house Sunday evening. Two and a half hours of blissful solitude. I literally savored the silence and stillness like it was my last meal.

And then everyone tumbled back into the house and I loved them again.

Technically this is not something new that I’ve learned. But it is something crucial that I’ve not prioritized this summer. And then I wonder why my eye twitches and I can’t remember people’s names and I forget to put a coffee mug under the Keurig while it is dripping coffee all over the kitchen counter. {True story from two days ago.}

Sometimes the alone-ness is just not possible. But when it is, it’s a gift not only to me but also to the ones I love.

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So how about you? What have you learned this summer? Tell me in the comments or feel free to link up with your own post over at Emily’s.

A few other posts from this summer

When Summer Gives You Crazy & You Give It Right Back

When Life is a Broken + Beautiful Mashup

Fighting For Peace When Everyone Else is at the Pool

8 Things I Learned on the First Day of Summer

Don’t want to miss a post? You can subscribe by e-mail in that box below. Feel free to unsubscribe anytime you like. {Also, I promise not to sell your address to pirates, aliens, or The Gap.}

When Summer Gives You Crazy & You Give It Right Back

A week ago the Facebook page for my blog sent my an automated email that said, “Marian Vischer your fans are missing you.” I died laughing because a} Fans? 2} I doubt it. 3} I’ve got bigger concerns.

But it was a subtle jab to the gut that life is too chaotic to write {which makes me angsty} and also that I really can’t do anything much about the writing and the “fans” and whatnot.

Let’s just say that summer has thrown me a few curve balls and that one day last week I ate McDonalds for lunch and Chick Fil A for dinner. My kids would call that a win. I call it pathetic. And also kind of gross.

Right now I’m surviving on steady doses of grace, a tolerant and loving husband, too much screen time for my children, stellar headache medicine, and an arsenal of essential oils. {I’m hunkered down at my desk as I type this with the door locked and a diffuser that’s wafting lavender into the air. Thank you Jesus.}

Ben and Jerry have also been loyal companions.

I can’t exercise. {Because my gym membership expired and I haven’t been able to run since March because my back is dumb and old and still injured and that means I’m in physical therapy.}

My eye is twitching. {Stress.}

The Lounge finally had to be hauled off to charity. {Yes, we’re grieving.}

Life transition stuff is on the horizon. {I’ll tell you about it later.}

And there’s this unexplainable itching when I feel stressed and ruminating thoughts that I have inflamed skin patches growing tentacles. I so wish I was joking about that one. {#marianiscrazy}

Worst of all, my friend’s cancer is back which makes me want to kick all of the walls in my house and cry when I’m in the shower and when I’m sitting on the floor of my boys’ room as we pray for her healing and I attempt to answer their questions that are still actually my own questions too.

I wish I could tell you I’m coping with All Of The Things by reading my Bible at 5am for two hours and praying without ceasing. There’s a little bit of that…but a whole lot more pretend online shopping.

In all of the unexpectedness and uncertainty, in the little stresses and the big sufferings, I’m reminded that control is an illusion and trust is a choice.

I cling to God’s sovereignty and love.

I rest — or attempt to rest — {which sounds like an oxymoron} in His faithful and undeniable promises.

This summer there seems to be one message ringing loud and clear above all others. God covenanted long ago to keep his promises to his people despite their weakness, waywardness, unbelief, and outright rebellion. He said He’d be with them in the chaos and trouble, in the good news and the bad news, in the times of obvious blessing and the times of obvious suffering. He promised to love them with an everlasting love.

He promised redemption.

He has proven, time and time again, that it’s about his faithfulness and not ours. I mean, let’s be honest, in whose track record of righteousness would you rather place your hope? Yours or God’s?

It’s times like this summer — times when I’m swimming in stress and flailing about like a fool — when I am painfully aware of my inability, idolatry, immaturity, inconsistency, and idiocy. And it’s times like these when all I can do is fall on my face and cry, Jesus please help me. I can’t bring anything to the table right now but weakness, neediness, hormonal imbalance, and repentance.

But the good news {that I still struggle to believe} is that it’s okay. It’s actually enough. Why? Because He’s enough and that frees me up not to be.

Not in the “Oh, I’m just going to embrace all of my sucky-ness so that grace may abound” but in the “Quit striving and accept where you are today and rest in the unbelievable enough-ness of Christ.”

This is the Gospel.

Jesus didn’t come for those who are well. He came for those who are sick and weak and in need of healing. I don’t have to get it together first. He makes me worthy because He was counted worthy for me. He calms my anxious heart because He is Peace incarnate and He lives in me…even when I am spewing short-tempered ugliness at my hyperactive children who could use a bit more structure this summer.

He reminds me of his promises in myriad ways, even on the days when the only spiritual effort I can muster is the two-word prayer, Help me.

Maybe your summer has been pool and beach and fruity drinks with umbrellas. Or maybe it’s been a little bit okay and a whole lot cuckoo. {Like mine.}

If you are in Christ, you can rest. You can free-fall into the arms of Jesus who is enough for you and for me and for this great big groaning world.

And you can also go to McDonald’s and Chick Fil A in the same day.