7 Things I Learned in August

I was going to publish the next post in the Being Cool About School series today but then I saw that Emily is doing her “Let’s Shared What We Learned” link-up and it’s one of my favorites. We basically meet up at the end of each month to share random, quirky, or meaningful stuff we’ve learned over the course of the month. I love these sorts of posts.

I already have the next post written in the school series so tomorrow I’m going to do something I never do: publish on a Saturday. Does anyone even read blogs on the weekend? I have no idea. But if you do, come back tomorrow morning for the next installment in the series.

But for now, feast your Friday attention on the life-changing, super meaningful, change-the-world stuff I learned in August.

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1. I don’t feel old enough to have been married 18 years. We celebrated our anniversary this month and I commemorated it with a blog post. Naturally. 18 Simple Thing I’ve Learned About the Not-So-Simple Art of Marriage.

Why yes, we are 12 in this picture.

2. PicMonkey. I know, I’m probably two years behind the times on this one. I usually am. I don’t have Photoshop. I don’t know how to do fancy, creative stuff on my computer. I use Blogspot {for the time being} instead of WordPress. But when I started my series this week, Being Cool About School, my friend Richella said, Girl, you need a pinnable image. And then she made me one. I was so impressed. She told me she did it on PicMonkey. It’s a free and super easy photo-editing site. Here’s the image she made:

Cute, right? Anyway, I played around with it a bit and am really excited to use it for future blog stuff.

{Special thanks to my friend Kindel for figuring out how to make these images “pinnable” by inserting a bit of code. Now you can just hover over any image and it shows the Pinterest “P.”}

3. And speaking of the series, I’ve learned that a lot of you are interested in the subject of finding grace and freedom in our educational choices. I’ve been overwhelmed, in a good way, by all of the e-mails, facebook messages, and comments.

When I had a big birthday back in May, I said that 40 feels like permission.

Permission to take all that I’m learning and actually do something with it. Permission to tap into some God-given loves even if I don’t have the training or degrees or clout. Because y’all, forty is legit. I’m a bona fide grown-up now, old enough to have some credibility, experienced enough to have some stories, tired enough to have some needful restraint, and brave enough to say yes to new paths.

Yesterday I talked with my friend, Julie, and she said, I feel like your writing has so much more confidence now. Perhaps she’s right. I don’t think I would have had the courage to write this series even a year ago. Thanks for your kind words and encouragement. Yes, I’m a bit braver than I used to be but I still get all shades of nervous to write about such a personal and “loaded” subject.

4. Transition, even when it’s good and timely and needed, can be exhausting and weird. All five of us, plus the dog, are still reeling from the schedule changes that began with the advent of a new school year.

I inexplicably want to take naps in the middle of the day, every day. I’ve stopped nearly every day for a sweet tea or soda at local gas stations and drive-thru’s. We’re all pretty much wiped out by 7 pm. I forget that it’s like this every year.

Even our poor, extroverted, emotionally-needy, canine member of the family went on a hunger strike for the first week of school and sank into a depression. She literally stayed in this spot, every single day, from 8 am until 3 pm.

We may need to look into doggy Prozac.

5. Popsicles are like a magic wand for 5-year-olds who are struggling with start-of-school woes. If you read this post about all the tears my kindergartener and I shed on the first few days of school, you may be wondering, So how is all that working out?

The whole first week was rough. I’m not gonna lie. But every day when I picked him up, he told me how fun it was; it was simply the “getting there” part that killed us. And then my husband told our 5-year-old that if he was able to go to school and be brave, he would get his own box of popsicles.

Parenting gurus around the globe will probably send me hate mail now. But hear me. By the time you get to the third child and are in your 13th year of parenting, you are chucking idealism to the curb and camping out in the land of “whatever works.” Our big boy has not shed a teensy-weensy tear since that day. He goes to school like a boss. Who knew? We are now on our second box of popsicles which has likely ushered in all sorts of additional dysfunction.

6. Fourth-grade boys are the easiest species on the planet to dress. My son wears this “uniform” to school every. single. day: basketball shorts, t-shirt, the ridiculous black tall socks {you know what I’m talking about}, and running shoes. I hope this outfit never goes out of style, even though the socks resemble my dad’s “Sunday” ones with a Nike swoosh added. We may have taken to sleeping in our next-day clothes on school nights because basketball shorts and t-shirts are essentially pajamas. And also real clothes. God bless him.

7. I’m attending the Allume conference. I’m over the moon about this. My husband and I decided I should go…right after it sold out. So I had to resort to all sorts of social media desperation to find someone selling a ticket. I finally did just a couple of weeks ago. Ann Voskamp is speaking so I’m a bit giddy over that. I’ve never been to a blogging conference but this one isn’t too far away and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

If you’ll be there too, let me know.

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So there you have it. Seven things I learned in August. Happy weekend, friends! Tune in tomorrow for my next post in the Being Cool About School series, Our Story Part 2: Permission to Let a Good Thing Go.

If you want to subscribe to the blog in order to receive all the posts of the series via e-mail, you can subscribe in the right sidebar. Feel free to unsubscribe anytime.

How about you? Any fun, weird, or exciting stuff that you learned in August?

Being Cool About School, a series: Our Story Part 1

This the second post in a series. You can read the first post here. To pin the image above, simply hover over the center of the picture.

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I began stressing about the education of my children before they were born. I wish I was joking.

Though I’ve only been a mom for twelve-and-a-half years, educating my children has been somewhat of a preoccupation for probably eighteen years, about the time I got married. Some of you probably think that’s insane. And some of you can totally relate.

We welcomed our first child into the world in 2001. Within a few years I had determined how I wanted to educate her and any additional children we’d have.

What sort of educational utopia did I have in mind? A private, classical, Christian school. Preferably one with uniforms. It would be a safe, secure, and rigorous place for her to learn. Naturally, we would be part of a lovely community of like-minded parents and our beloved daughter would become a prodigy, what with reading classical texts and memorizing the history of the world and such. Plus she would receive sound theological instruction and remain protected from the “unsavory” influences of the masses.

Sure, private school would be expensive but by that point, we’d hopefully be able to afford it. Perhaps my own college teaching career could even help fund our children’s education. I told myself that if anything is worth investing in, surely it’s education. Surely we would make it work because surely this was the right way to go and surely God would bless and provide for such an honorable and noble endeavor.

Apparently I was sure about a lot back then. It makes me cringe to see those long-ago expectations written out in black and white. I’m so grateful God does not always give us what we think we want.

My dear husband was so not stressing about this. Yes, he is smart. Yes, he cares about education. He’s an economics professor; obviously he cares. But he did not have a specific vision of how it should look. He is a pragmatist, thank the Lord, and not the high-strung idealist that I am. He assumed that whatever route we chose, it would most likely be fine.

Looking back, I would have been wise to have sought his wisdom rather than “expert” opinions found on the internet and in books and among other parents. But because he wasn’t as worked up about the issue as I was, it pains me to tell you that I discounted his perspective and began the angst-ridden journey of figuring this out on my own.

By the time our daughter was school-age, life as I’d envisioned it was already shaky at best. But that’s another story. I traded in my three-quarter time position for full-time employment at the university where I worked. Many aspects of our lives seemed uncertain and my own full-time employment meant greater security.

We enrolled our daughter in a half-day, private kindergarten program but with my full-time job, we had to go with public school instead.

Looking back on it, my devastation was so unnecessary. Truly, it’s kind of embarrassing. Safe public schools are a luxury in many parts of the world but there I was lamenting this option like it was failure, all because it didn’t match up with my ideals.

I’ll never forget her first day of school in August of 2006 as we nervously walked down the kindergarten hallway.

My sweet girl in her shiny new Keds, white cotton dress, and leopard-print backpack.

My fragile self in heels, business attire, and a sensible tote.

And though our toddler son was safely situated in childcare, I was dealing with all sorts of guilt over that. I’m sure we looked polished and put together on that first day of school. The reality was anything but “together.”

I held back the bulk of the waterworks until I reached my van. And then I bawled on the way to work, blew my nose, touched up my make-up, and walked resolutely into a conference ballroom to do a presentation in front of the entire university faculty.

I did what I did best way back then: Soldiered on and pretended I was made of steel.

But after the presentation and faculty meeting, I went to my office, locked the door, loosened the ties of pretense, and wept at my desk.

This was not how life was supposed to look.

I did my job and I did it pretty well. But that was about all I could do. In the precious downtime I had as a full-time working mother of two young children, I slept and continued to cry “for no reason,” gradually slipping into depression by early winter. Navigating the difficulties of marriage, motherhood, full-time work and utter emotional depletion had taken its toll. I rested as much as I could. I went on medicine that helped. I did not want to keep working.

In January, right before classes began, I made one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made: I quit a job that I loved but could no longer keep. It was freeing and heart-breaking and terrifying. Just like that, we said goodbye to half of our income and a career that had brought me great fulfillment and precious influence in the lives of college students.

We kept our daughter in school for the remainder of the school-year. During the next several months, I rested, went to Bible study and church, and spent copious amounts of time in the mornings with the Lord. This was a season of intense healing and renewal for me.

In late spring we found out I was pregnant with our third child and we were both ecstatic. Our son’s name means “mercy” because he was a living, breathing representation of God’s renewal, provision, and protection for our family. He represented a new beginning in every way.

I was preoccupied with two things during that pregnancy: Morning sickness. And what to do about school.

Though our daughter enjoyed a fabulous kindergarten year with a loving and wonderful teacher, public school was still not part of my perfect vision. With family on the mend and a new lease on life, I returned to my idealism about education. Why read Junie B. Jones when we could read Plato?

I anguished all summer over the decision. Private school was too expensive and there wasn’t one close enough anyway. We had two choices: Send her back to public school or homeschool.

Homeschool was something that seemed beautiful but unattainable. I loved the idea of living and learning together. I loved the freedom and flexibility it would provide. I loved the notion of teaching her what we deemed valuable and the idea of learning at her own pace rather than the state forcing its standards, expectations, and schedule on us.

But could I really educate my own kids? Though I had been an educator for the last eight years, I knew nothing about teaching little kids.

Would I have the patience?

Would I need a break?

Would we all drive each other crazy?

Would they be bored and hate me and wish they could go to school like “normal” kids?

At the last possible moment in August, I surrendered to what my heart really longed for and what I believed God was calling me to do: be with my children. Thankfully my husband supported this decision. I still doubted my ability to homeschool but I knew this was a calling and I trusted that God would equip me for the journey.

For the next {almost} five years, we did school at home.

Those were some crazy days. Still adjusting to life outside the work-force, I had three young children and did school with the oldest two while my hard-working husband taught every day and three nights a week. The littlest child remained attached to my hip or to the floor, likely adhered to the hardwoods by a rogue cup of spilled apple juice that had dripped through the cracks of our kitchen table / school desk.

Life was both messy and marvelous. Simpler, but in a chaotic sort of way.

We read books together, field-tripped together, ate every single meal together, often slept together {because I birthed the worst sleepers in the world}, rode everywhere together, and attended our weekly homeschool group together.

My only break from all of the “lovely” togetherness was early-morning running with my friend and the occasional restroom break. But not to shower of course. Showers were a luxury as well as a hazard. The littlest one, when not well-adhered to the wood floor by said apple juice, was prone to emptying the contents of entire bathroom drawers into the toilet when my back was turned.

But I wouldn’t have chosen anything else. After seven years as a working mom, my heart longed to be with my little ones. I wanted to reclaim the time I felt I’d lost. Graduate school, work, selfish ambition, and personal trials had, in a way, stolen me from my children.

I longed for us all to be fully present in one another’s lives and we definitely were. Much of the time it wasn’t pretty but it was real and sweet and I wouldn’t trade those years for anything.

I didn’t know what school and the future would look like and by year four, I became increasingly open to other options. In the distant future of course.

But as we began our last year of homeschooling, I had no idea that we were almost done. No idea whatsoever that we’d have only five more months of life and learning as we had known it for so long.

The idol of the ideal was still alive and well in my heart even though it was crumbling in the everyday trenches of our homeschool.

Sometimes God reroutes us in ways that feel like failure but are actually grace.

And that’s where I’d like to pick up in the next post.

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This is the second post in a series:

Being Cool About School:

Finding Grace & Freedom for Ourselves & Others in Our Educational Choices

{Whether We Teach Our Kids at Home,
in School, or on the Moon}

I invite you to read the first post in the series here.

Feel free to subscribe to the blog if you’d like to receive the rest of the series in your e-mail’s inbox. You can do that in the right sidebar. And you may unsubscribe anytime you like.

“So are you still glad you switched from homeschool to public school?” The post in which I answer this question and also announce a SERIES.

So are you still glad you put your kids in public school?

I hear this question a lot. And the short answer is yes. But I always feel like it needs a thousand qualifiers and disclaimers. It’s a weighty issue, this thing of how we do school with our kids. It can be divisive, cliquish, confusing, and overwhelming. Most of us don’t enter into our decisions lightly.

Because I’ve done a bit of everything over the past twelve-and-a-half-years {working mom with young children, stay-at-home mom with young children, stay-at-home homeschool mom with young children, and now stay-at-home mom with kids in public school,} my heart and my mind are attached to all of these options for different reasons.

Part of the decision I support every path is because I’ve been down every path. Well, not every path, but I’ve done this thing of motherhood and education in several different ways. Empathy and experience have taught me that these decisions are deeply personal and layered.

Most parents I know have carefully sought clarity and wisdom regarding issues of work, motherhood, children, and school. And this is why we need hearty doses of grace. Heaping, overflowing, ginormous helpings of grace as we interact with others who have chosen differently than we have.

Someone you know may have spent two years anguishing over a decision that you just took two seconds to judge.

I should know. I’ve done it. I’ve anguished and waffled and gnashed my teeth. And though it pains me to confess, I’ve also privately passed judgement toward others who appeared either too self-righteous or not righteous enough.

I’ve found identity and security in homeschooling my kids and been forced to confront some ugly truths about the idols of my heart when I stopped.

At times our decision to put our kids in public school has felt like failure. And at other times it has felt like freedom.

It goes without saying that this has been a rich journey for me and I’m becoming increasingly aware that it’s one I’ve not traveled alone.

Many of you read this blog years ago when writing here was simply the “escape hatch” from the overwhelming nature of my days as a homeschool mom of three young kids.

Looking back, it seems an impractical season to have picked up the hobby of blogging. But I realize that writing here helped me cope and connect in the midst of that very draining season of my life.

I thought I was simply chronicling my days. Apparently I was doing more than that by assembling my own chronicle of sorts, living a story that’s certainly not over but from which I have already gleaned many lessons.

And some of you have asked me to write that story in a way that’s cohesive and community-building.

At first that sounded crazy but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that there is much to say on the topic. There’s plenty of support for homeschooling, private schooling, and public schooling, but there seems to be a vacuum on the topic of freedom and grace for parents struggling to know which road to travel. Though there are many resources and movements espousing one option over another option, I don’t think I’ve ever read a post, article, or book that says: Hey, it’s all cool. There’s no wrong. But there is wisdom for your personal journey and freedom no matter which path you choose.

Yes, I believe in absolute truth. And though some will disagree with me, this thing of how we school is not absolute. Though one side or another has been backed with Scripture, hard facts, anecdotal evidence, and even the Constitution, I believe it is negotiable.

Is your mind anxious and awash with the constant chatter of confusing voices? Voices that evoke fear, condemnation, or guilt? Well, I’d like to be one, small, encouraging voice that offers a more grace-filled message. I want to speak the hope and freedom I wish someone had spoken to me many years ago when I began my free-fall down the unending spiral of school anxiety.

I’ve already written about this topic a good bit and I’ll try not to repeat too much of what I’ve already covered. If you’re interested in those posts, I invite you to click on the tab at the top of the blog, From Homeschool to Public School.

Now that 20 months have passed, it’s easier for me to summarize why we chose to make that decision and why it’s one we’re sticking with until further notice.

The passage of time has also given me sweet perspective on the blessings and benefits for us during those homeschool years. There are things I miss…and things I don’t.

Though we now embrace public school, we don’t do it to the exclusion of other options, options that we have chosen in the past and that we do not at all regret choosing. We’ll consider homeschooling again in the future should one or all of our children need it. But because of all that we’ve learned through trial and lots of error, we won’t homeschool the same way and we’ll know that it’s not a better or lesser option; it’s simply an option.

One thing that troubles me is that we tend toward mutual exclusivity about these school decisions. Sometimes it feels like choosing one route is an ideological rejection of the other route.

It shouldn’t be.

So with this perspective in mind, I’m planning to embark on a little series with the cheesiest and lengthiest title you’ve ever heard. Ready?

Being Cool About School:

Finding Grace & Freedom for Ourselves & Others
Whether We Teach Our Kids at Home, in School, or on the Moon

{To pin the image above, just hover over the picture and you’ll see the Pinterest logo.}

Who is this series for?

Moms who don’t yet have kids in school but are already stressing about how to educate them.
Homeschool moms who are weary and breaking down but too afraid to make a change.
Public or private school moms whose kids are struggling but they don’t know what to expect or consider about homeschooling.
Moms on both “sides” who have felt judged or misunderstood by moms on the other side…or who have judged or misunderstood moms on the other side.
Any mom whose decisions about school are ruled by fear or duty rather than freedom and common sense.
Christian moms who want want to know how our freedom in Christ really does free us up and provides us with grace for others who do it differently.

Here are some post ideas:

Our story {a brief summary}
Why I’m glad we homeschooled for five years
Why we switched from homeschool to public school
Praises and pitfalls of both
Things to consider before you homeschool {and how I’d do it differently}
Things to consider before you public school
You still homeschool, even if your kids go to school
How can we come together?

If you’re interested in reading through this series, you can subscribe to the blog and have each post delivered to your e-mail address. Go ahead. I’ll wait. {You can unsubscribe anytime you want.}

This series will last two – three weeks and I’ll post three times each week.

Can I be honest as I close? I’m terrified. I tend to run from controversy. I’m a natural-born people pleaser. I’d rather edit and publish my funny post on being a “reluctant cheer mom” or show you the little writing nook I recently configured in the corner of my bedroom. And I’ll get to those things and more in due time.

But with school being back in session and some recent conversations I’ve had with others on the topic, I’ve decided to be brave and say yes to this opportunity that seems timely and right.

My hope and prayer is that my writings here will spur all of us on to greater freedom as mothers and to greater freedom as sisters to our fellow moms. This thing of motherhood is not for the faint of heart and we need all the encouragement and camaraderie we can get.

I heartily welcome any suggestions or questions you may have. Most of all, I welcome your prayers as I strive to faithfully pursue this topic with truth and gentleness.

Read the rest of the posts in the series here.

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Feel free to chat it up in the comments section: Is this a relevant topic for you? Have you personally struggled with indecision or pressure to teach your kids a certain way? Have you ever felt judged for your personal choices on this issue?

Whatever your thoughts, I’d love to know and I’m really looking forward to sharing together. {If you put a question in the comments section, check back. I’ll put my replies there.}

Special thanks to my sweet friend, Richella, from Imparting Grace. She loves the idea of this series and kindly suggested that I needed a “pinnable” image. And then she went and made one for me. I call her my “fairy blogmother.” Thank you Richella! Special thanks also goes to my friend, Kindel at Willow White Studios, who made the lovely image pinnable.

Feel free to pin, link, or share the series with anyone you think may benefit from it.

Bulrushes & Back-to-School: When Letting Go Brings Tears & Builds Trust

His feet stopped moving altogether mid-way down the hall, rubber-bottomed sneakers at a standoff with the cold terrazzo floors.

I hate school. It’s too long. I don’t want to go. Don’t make me go! Why can’t I just be at home with you?

Not exactly the words this heartsick mother of a kindergartener wanted to hear on his second day of school.

I fought back my own tears as I wiped away his.

I love you and I’ll be back before you know it to pick you up. But most of all, Jesus is with you. He’s your best friend and He’s with you even here at school.

No He’s not my best friend, he mumbled back. Ronen is. And I just want to go home and play with him.

I’ve picked him up two days now and he is all smiles and stories and happiness at 2:30. His teachers are amazing. He loves art and the monkey puppet who gets in trouble. He’s dying to buy a tray lunch and proudly accumulates “warm fuzzies” for jobs well done. He tells me all about his new friends and how he loves them so much but he cannot remember any of their names.

It’s not school that’s so terrible. It’s starting something new and the emotional and physical exhaustion of change that has him clinging to what he’s always known and resisting this new chapter with all his five-year-old might.

He’s resistant and reluctant to embrace the unknown. He’s clinging to what’s familiar and his fearful heart and strong will preclude his ability to let go and trust.

Same here.

My tears sprinkled the asphalt as I trudged back to the van.

Lord, I prayed. Please help him. Be with him even though I can’t. Work this out for him.

I fought the impulse to run back into the school and scoop him up. I wanted to kick these unfamiliar days to the curb, to keep him from any and all heartache and keep myself from it too.

As I rounded a curve of the damp sidewalk, a divine whisper floated into my mind: baby Moses.

Are you kidding me? I thought to myself, incredulous and ashamed that I’d dare to compare this little situation of mine to the severity of that story.

The whisper again: Think about how Moses’s mother felt when she placed him in that basket and prayed with all her might that he wouldn’t drown or get eaten by ferocious river beasts.

A tiny baby. In a basket made of bulrushes and filled in with pitch. Sent down a river. So that he might live. This is crazy.

As a grown-up, it’s second nature to recall the stories that played themselves out on flannel-graph boards in Sunday School class decades ago and think to myself,

That is a ridiculous story. Why in the world would God ask a mother to let go of her child in such a traumatic way? Why would He call her to trust him against all odds and involve that poor baby’s big sister in the scheme as well? Did that even happen? Why does God choose to work out his will in ways that seem completely risky and even nonsensical?

I’ve written before about my own faith, how it has never come naturally and how my belief surprises even me. My heart is that of a skeptic, so I do battle with reason on a daily basis.

Because He knows these things about me, He is kind to intersect my modern mind with ancient stories on an everyday muggy morning in August. His whispers to me are sweetly personal and unmistakably real. Apparently He never tires of constantly renewing my fledgling faith.

Which is why I can drop off my reluctant five-year-old one minute and ponder baby Moses the next.

Don’t misunderstand. I am not trying to equate my modern dilemma with that of Moses’s mama. Her infant son faced imminent slaughter. My son simply faced a too-long day at a privileged American school.

But it’s the concept of trust and letting go and God’s big story that I can’t shake.

Release your vulnerable child to me.

Release your plan to me.

Release your expectations to me.

Release your fears to me.

As mothers, this is especially tricky. It can seem both counterintuitive and contradictory. How do we guard them fiercely but hold them loosely?

Surely this is the motherhood dilemma for all of us who believe that even though God formed our babies, He chose mothers to carry them.

Though He has a plan for our children’s lives and doesn’t give us the specifics, He calls us to teach and train them.

Though only He can bring about inside-out change, He asks us to be the gatekeepers of their hearts.

This divine partnership is a mystery and sometimes I feel like a blindfolded conductor with my sticks waving mightily while someone else holds the sheet music. I cannot see but I trust the One who does see it all from beginning to end.

We are called to trust and to hope. It seems a paradox that God would choose such elusive admonitions as the bedrock of our faith.

Which brings me to faith itself: Confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Faith frees us to be confident because of what we’ve already seen but it also frees us to be hopeful in that which we cannot see. Faith invites us to revisit God’s promises both for ourselves and for the world, to understand that his plan is one of both micro and macro redemption.

He is the God of each day for each child and also the God of redemptive history. And somehow, He weaves it all together, both the everyday and the epic. And because this confounds our finite minds, he lays it out in story-form through his Word and in spirit-form through his whispers.

As I read and recall these stories and his perfect faithfulness to his imperfect, unfaithful people, I find comfort.

As I experience his personal involvement in my everyday life, I find peace.

Moses became the leader of God’s chosen people and this changed the world. But before that, he had a mama who was willing to let him go and trust God.

She probably wasn’t thinking that this baby would go down in history. She was just an everyday mama like you and me, praying that God would save her son and spare her heart.

But first, she had to let go of the “control” she never really had to begin with.

Not unlike another mother who would come many years later, praying that God would save her son and spare her heart too. But his reply was not the same. Redemption called for a greater sacrifice this time:

Mary, I choose not to save your son, who was first my son, so that I may instead spare the world.

And that, my friends, is why we can trust. The cross breaks our hearts just like it broke the Father’s heart and Mary’s heart and Christ’s own body. But it also grows our faith. He gave up everything for us, even his own perfect son.

Surely he can cover a struggling kid’s day at school and a struggling mother’s day at home.

He can cover our indecision about how we should school them.

He can cover every mistake and misstep and misgiving along the way and He delights to do it because of his great love for us.

When my five-year-old cries in the hallway and both our hearts are breaking, I know that it’s a big deal. It matters to the mama who carried him and also to the One who created him.

God understands the heart of a parent because He is one.

We all play our part in this layered story, the seemingly non-descript one that we live out amid laundry and backpacks and local schools, and the sweeping cosmic one that plays out on this spinning globe across a million planes and in a million ways.

On some days playing our parts means letting go and trusting with our heads even though our hearts want to wade into the river or into the classroom or into the dorm room and pull our cryin’ babes safely into our arms.

But the God of the kindergarten hallways is also the God of the ancient currents and the God who gave up his own son and allowed his own heart to break in order to save the world.

He is shaping each small soul and each grown-up mama’s life into a sacred, redemptive story we cannot see.

But we can trust.

Real life back-to-school hacks. Let’s share our favorites.

My little ones start school this week and as always, the anticipation of all things new is usually worse than the reality.

Why is the unknown so scary?

Also, because I describe unknowns as “scary” instead of “exciting,” does that mean I might have control issues?

Don’t answer that.

Whether the challenges and unknowns of a new school year bring you excitement or dismay, it might be fun and helpful to pool our collective wisdom.

Perhaps you’re a mom who works outside the home or a stay-at-hom mom with kids of all ages in school. Maybe you homeschool.

I’ve actually done all of the above at one time or another and I can tell you, we all need some simple solutions to manage our days with less clutter, chaos, and cluelessness.

This isn’t really a life hacks kind of blog. I don’t teach about organization or time management or meal-planning. But it is a real life blog. A place where we can all pull up a seat for some honest talk about a little bit of everything.

So can I be honest? I am great about starting new procedures and systems but bad about maintaining them.

I’ve been cooking dinner for 18 years but on any given week, I can look at my calendar to plan my meals and feel like I have never cooked in my life. What on earth have I been doing for dinner all of these years? I don’t even know.

Mornings? Don’t get me started. We have all walked out the door on one morning or another feeling hurried, unloved, and stressed. And all because someone is missing a shoe or their oatmeal tastes weird.

I’m not interested in finding great organizational solutions so that I can feel good about my home management skills. I’m interested in finding real-life solutions because I love the husband and three kiddos who are in my care.

Doable systems and a bit of planning actually help our relationships with one another because they take the guesswork out of the hurried and vulnerable moments of our days.

Different things work for different people but if we all just find one recipe, app, or idea that helps our days and our relationships, that’s worth it, right?

So in the name of not yelling at our children at 7 am or rushing through a drive-thru after soccer practice, let’s share what we’ve got.

Here’s what I have in mind:

Simple, healthy-ish solutions for dinner. What’s your favorite, go-to, I’ve-made-it-a-thousand-times meal?
Ways to eat together as a family in the midst of evening practices?
Easy, healthy-ish, grab-and-go breakfast ideas. Yes, ideally the kids eat around the table before school but on those I-can’t-find-my-sneaker mornings, what are some grab-and-go solutions?
Anything that makes mornings easier? Anything.
Lunchbox ideas?
Products that have revolutionized home and school management for you or your kids?
Ways to come together as a family regularly even though the ages, stages, and demands of each kid may be different?

Get the idea? These are real-life solutions I’m talking about.

If you color code everything and have your meals cooked and labeled in your deep-freezer from now through December, um…you may not want to participate. You will overwhelm us normal types with your preparedness and Martha Stewart ways.

I’ll share a few of my own later in the week but for now, I just wanted to get the ball rolling and invite you all to jump in. You can share your favorite ideas, links, recipes, etc. in the comments section. If there’s a good response, I can do a round-up next week sometime.

So please, help a sister out and let’s share the organizational love. What are your best back-to-school hacks?

Small {a 5-minute Friday post} & a little thank-you “note”

Today I’m joining in with Lisa-Jo and the gang for 5-minute Friday. It’s my first time.

Here’s what 5-minute Friday is all about. From Lisa-Jo:

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

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This week’s prompt: Small

GO.

We meandered about the throngs of parents and kids yesterday, all five of us. Between the forms and the “hello’s,” the PTA and volunteer opportunities, all those people and so many hallways, I felt a tad overwhelmed. I wanted to duck into the nearest bathroom with those tiny toilets and knee-high sinks and just hide out for a bit.

I feel too small for this next season.

Too small to balance all of the schedules.

Too small to enter the uncomfortable territory of all kids in school and each with his or her own activity.

Too small to make polite chit chat in the bleachers and on the sidelines {the woes of an introvert.}

Too small to be in this place that is still a bit foreign–physically, emotionally, and psychologically.

Pardon the drama but I feel like wee David and his slingshot, about to face the big, scary giant.

And so I remind myself that yes I am small and so not enough. But God is big and so very enough.

It’s okay to feel small.

STOP.

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Seriously? My five minutes is up? Clearly, I’m not a speedy writer. And I’m thinking that’s why this will be a good exercise to help hone my skills.

And on a totally different note, can I just thank all of you who sent me texts, Facebook messages, blog comments, and e-mails regarding that last post I wrote?

Honestly, I had no idea it would be received that way.

Marriage is a scary thing to discuss because it’s the most intimate and personal of all our relationships. I try to write about it in a way that is honest and hopeful but still somewhat private; it’s a tightrope to be sure. My husband approved of each and every word I wrote so consider him a co-author.

Anyway, thank you for being so kind in response to a topic that is so vulnerable.

And yes, I know this part put me well over the 5-minute mark but I had to thank you. That doesn’t count right?

18 Simple Things I’ve Learned About the Not-So-Simple Art of Marriage

Eighteen years ago I walked down the aisle to this handsome guy.

And yes, I did steal him from the local high school. Go ahead and gawk. I’m well aware that we look like children playing dress-up in a white dress and tux.

Perhaps I’m the last person who should write a marriage post because I’ve gotten it wrong more than I’ve gotten it right. But marriage has taught me more about life and love than any other relationship and that’s what this post is about.

As is the case in all my posts, much of what I write is directed at myself. But in case you need some thoughts on marriage too, here you go.

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1. Marriage is like a garden. This is an unfortunate metaphor for me because I tend to neglect and therefore kill all living things that sprout from soil. Nonetheless, I’ve learned that marriage will wither without consistent and thoughtful cultivation.

2. We change. And we don’t change. My husband and I got married the summer after college graduation at the ripe old age of 22. Though I thought we were prepared and mature and invincible at the time, I realize now that we might as well have been toddlers. During rough patches {and by “rough” I mean the patches in which one entertains murderous thoughts}, it’s easy to indulge thoughts like: We got married so young; we’re simply not the same people. As we’ve grown up, we’ve grown apart.

Yes, of course we grow up and change. We’re supposed to. But perhaps more stays the same than we may realize. Strip away the conflict and the kids, the budget and the balancing of schedules, and you may find that the endearing person you married is still very much there.

Focus on the differences and you’ll find them. Focus on the the endearments and you’ll find those too.

Think back to Point #1. What might you do to cultivate the beauty and wonder of that amazing person you married all those years ago? Chances are he or she is still there; they just may need some “tending to.”

3. Don’t value anyone’s opinion above your spouse’s. Not your best friend’s or your mom’s or your mentor’s or some expert. This is your life partner, the person you are one with.

His opinion matters not because he is perfect or even right. His opinion matters because he’s your #1 person.

Value him by valuing his thoughts and ideas. And then stand back and watch what happens.

4. Receive the love. If he tells you you’re beautiful or talented or funny, believe it. If she tells you that you’re handsome or wonderful, believe her. Don’t offer disclaimers and don’t wish for others to believe these things about you. This is your spouse. Cherish how he or she feels about you.

5. The Golden Rule especially applies to marriage. When something comes out of your mouth or a certain tone undoes whatever good thing you may have just said, ask yourself this question: If he had just said that to me in that way, how would I feel? Or go one step further: If any adult had just said that to me in that way, how would I feel?

It’s a sobering questions for self-reflection. {Ask me how I know.}

6. Redefine conflict. We’ve learned that growth and “success” in marriage is not the absence of conflict. Instead, it’s how quickly you get through and recover from the conflict. Conflict, if handled and processed with vision and grace, can be one of the most fruitful things a marriage experiences and continues to experience as it grows deeper roots and bears more fruit.

You’ll never love conflict and you’ll probably always have a tendency to avoid it. Be brave and ask God to fill you with grace and courage. You have to navigate difficult and sometimes unimaginable situations and emotions as you journey through life together. The beauty that dawns on the other side of necessary and fruitful conflict is worth the struggle. I promise.

7. The Myth of “Quality Time.” Two years ago my pastor’s wife challenged me in the best way on this issue. She told me that it takes all kinds of time with someone to really know them. All time is quality time.

And it’s true. You can’t cram the richness of the accumulated mundane into a capsule labeled “quality time,” swallow it whole, and then expect a relationship to flourish. Relationship takes time together. Not fun time, not special time, not romantic time. Just time. Don’t resent or neglect the everyday moments. They matter.

8. Kill comparison. And while you’re at it just go ahead and delete the word “normal” from your vocabulary. Your marriage is your marriage and no one else’s. No aspect of your marriage needs to look like your sister’s or your friend’s or that “perfect” couple’s at church. And it shouldn’t. Embrace the uniqueness–quirks, frustrations, and all–that is your marriage.

Comparison is a murderer and a liar. It kills the imperfect but meaningful life you already have by comparing your “worst” with someone else’s “best.”

9. Think of your marriage as a story. Which story would you rather read?

Story #1: Two perfect people find one another and live a life of perfect jobs and beautiful children, fortune and glam, dream vacations and the best parties. They never fight. They get everything they want. Life isn’t so much a journey; it’s more of a plateau. A plateau of perfection. They are paragons of all that the world deems successful. In the end, the characters are much the same as they were in the beginning.

Story #2: Two people, deeply flawed but very much in love, get married. Life is harder than they’d planned. Marriage isn’t always a bed of roses. They love, they sin, they doubt, they believe. Their life is a journey with peaks and valleys and everything in between. At times it looks like all is lost but they do not give up. Most importantly, the Author of the story doesn’t give up on them. In the end, the characters are scarred but sincere, broken but beautiful. Their life together was rich and true, not because it was perfect but precisely because it wasn’t.

10. Find the funny. We laughed all the time when we dated. You too? That’s what I thought. No matter how serious your situation or how mundane your days may seem, find the funny together. Whatever it takes, laugh. Kids are good for this. So is making fun of yourself. And also You Tube.

11. Go away. Yeah, I know what I said about the myth of quality time but that doesn’t mean you can’t ever have romantic time. We just got back from a 2-day getaway. We didn’t spend much money but we did spend a full 48 hours away from home, kids, work, laundry, and dirty dishes.

I can’t even tell you how restorative it was. I now think of these times together as an investment instead of an indulgence. And really, I’m thinking we can’t afford not to take time away to recharge and reconnect.

12. Know thyself. Whatever it takes, know who you are, how you’re wired, what makes you tick, what makes you come undone. I so wish we had done more of this in our younger years.

There are lots of ways to take inventory of yourself: the Myers-Briggs test, StrengthsFinder, the Enneagram. {It’s best if you have someone who understands these inventories and can help you.} I’m no expert but I do know that getting a better idea of my own intricacies and the ways in which I interpret the world around me, has helped me tremendously.

I better understand why I relate to my husband in the ways I do. And he understands why I am so crazy and confounding. Which brings me to the next point…

13. Know thy spouse. This is crucial. My husband and I are opposites in every way. Every. possible. way. That’s why we work. And also why we don’t. But knowing how one another thinks and operates, even if we can’t personally understand how the other thinks and operates, has been invaluable. Communication, responses, approaching the inevitable decisions that life brings–all have improved because we’ve made an effort to know and even appreciate the uniqueness of the other.

14. Counseling is not a badge of failure. Why do we think this? Why do we think we need to be in full-on crisis before we get help? If you think you may need it, you probably do. It doesn’t even have to be a formal, expensive thing.

Sometimes we simply need the gift of objectivity that outside perspective brings: a pastor, a trusted couple who’s a bit further down the road than you, or an actual marriage counselor.

15. Don’t struggle alone. Perhaps you want counseling and your spouse doesn’t. That’s okay. You can still go for you and it will help. Perhaps you’ve been privately struggling for years and no one knows. Resolve to talk to someone you trust sooner, rather than never.

God gave us relationships and communities because we need them. There is help, healing, and freedom when we bring what’s hidden into the light.

And because we are human and we will always struggle, it’s important that we continue to have ongoing conversations with trusted others about how our marriage is doing.

16. Your story is never over. We know marriages that have overcome unspeakable odds and those that didn’t make it. And if you’re in the latter category, hear me: you are not a failure or a second-class citizen.

Marriage is a good and sacred gift but it is not the ultimate thing.

Your marriage may have ended but that doesn’t define you and it doesn’t limit the beautiful hope of redemption in your life. Sometimes we have to let go of the good gift of marriage because there are decisions and circumstances beyond our control.

If this is your hard road, keep journeying my friend. Do not give up and do not live in a place of defeat. I pray that Grace will give birth to acceptance, hope, and courage in your life.

17. Guard your emotional intimacy. I’m all about close relationships with trusted others in my life. I have deep and honest connection with friends and family. Truly, there are certain situations in which I need a female perspective, just as my husband needs perspective and camaraderie with men in his life.

But. The deepest emotional connection in my life needs to be with my husband. If I find myself telling someone else certain things that I don’t feel comfortable telling him, well, that may be a red flag. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

18. Get back to dreaming. Way back in those early years, we dreamed. We talked about them, planned for them. The beauty and wonder of possibility is intoxicating.

But real life enters the picture, doesn’t it? Though there’s beauty in the midst of all that real, it’s so easy for the dreaming to die.

Somewhere along the way, we stop dreaming and focus on surviving.

A couple of years ago we started dreaming again and it ignited a spark. And though none of those dreams have actually transpired, in the dreaming we learned about the depth and desires of the other and even about the unspoken depth and desires within our own selves.

Dreaming together isn’t entirely about the destination. It’s about the intimacy forged in imagination.

So go ahead. Dream together, and see what happens.

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Happy Anniversary to my husband of 18 years. Saying yes to you is one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Also, my mom was right when she predicted all those years ago, He’s going to age really well.

Want more thoughts on marriage? I shared a few others on my 40th birthday post.

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{This post was featured in Grace at Home over at my friend Richella’s place, Imparting Grace.}

The UnWired Mom Challenge. I’m in.

Today I had a different post nearly finished and ready to publish.

I’d planned to dish about the books I’m reading this summer, to joke about how I’m reading too many at a time {as always} and to lament my painfully slow progress through some lovely books I’d sincerely hoped to finish this summer.

But do you know one of the reasons I’m slogging through my pile of books so slowly?

Because I’m on-line too much.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the wonders of the internet:

Locating information that would have previously required a trip to the library or an archive or the moon.

Connecting with far-away friends and family.

Shopping in my pajamas.

Having a platform for my own writing.

But the internet has become our modern-day Siren and it’s nearly impossible to escape her constant, luring invitation. She calls to me from my laptop and she calls to me from the palm of my hand.

Commercials invite me to visit www dot whatever to learn more about their must-have product and cereal boxes invite my kids to play deftly-marketed games on-line.

Pinterest invites me to get my craft on.

Facebook invites me to see what’s going on.

Twitter invites me to feel like I have ADHD on steroids while laughing at clever people and grabbing at more information than a person can realistically process throughout the course of one day.

Instagram invites me to picture life through hazy filters and soft edges and then share it all around.

And all of these things have their perks. They do. They encourage creativity, connection, and community. But too much of anything makes our real lives off-balance and unhealthy and less than what we really want.

At least it does for me.

This is the challenge for our generation and it may be an even greater challenge for our kids’ generation. If I can’t live a life with purposeful boundaries regarding on-line usage, I’m setting them up for the same off-kilter existence.

Please hear me. I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m trying to be more intentional.

And lately, I simply haven’t been and it shows.

It’s why I have a stack of unfinished books and why I haven’t engaged with my kids enough and why I feel distracted and scattered too much of the time.

You too?

Then I invite you to join me as we join others in taking the Unwired Mom 14-day Challenge.

I hadn’t planned to do this. I sort of “stumbled onto it” yesterday and after thinking and praying and talking to my husband about it, I decided to say yes.

Yes to boundaries and real life, freedom and wholeness.

Don’t worry, it’s not a 14-day internet fast. It’s more of a 14-day journey of learning to approach our on-line activity with purpose.

So who’s the mommy genius behind this noble endeavor? The lovely Sarah Mae. She’s not perfect either. In fact, this challenge was born out of her own story of not living as full and engaged in her own life as she wanted to be.

I don’t actually know Sarah Mae and she doesn’t know me. She hasn’t asked me or paid me to endorse her blog or her e-book. Her own story and message simply resonated with me and maybe it resonates with you too.

Her invitation came at just the right time and I’ve come to a place where I’m ready to say yes to saying no.

You can read about the UnWired Mom 14-day Challenge here. You can buy her e-book, The Unwired Mom: Choosing to Live Free in an Internet-Addicted World here. I bought it on Kindle for $4.99. You can buy a pdf version too.

This is not a time-consuming journey but I have a feeling it’s going to be time well spent.

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What are your thoughts about living whole in a world that’s always wired?

*The e-book link I provided is my amazon affiliate link.

When August Brings an Anxious Heart

I’ve felt the anxiety for a couple of weeks now, the quickening pace of my pulse each time I consider what this month will soon bring: carpool, activities, juggling, a more hurried pace.

The calendar swells right along with my anxious heart.

“Real school” and all that it brings is still new-ish to me. I’ll be honest. Homeschooling allowed for more of a leisurely lifestyle. But I’m also realizing that no matter which school road one chooses, as kids become older, the calendar becomes more crowded.

Though we’re all at the point in late summer when we can use a bit more routine and structure, I wish we could wade into the busy instead of feeling pushed off the high-dive into the frigid waters of the deep end.

Even if each child simply does one thing, multiply that one thing by three kids and this margin-needing-mama is easily overwhelmed.

We still do less than most families we know. Years ago we vowed that we would not become the over-scheduled family, that we would say “no” to good things. Even so, the many unknowns of the season we’ll soon enter makes me nervous and fearful.

I’m friends with some of you more energetic and organized moms who seem to thrive on the busy, on the sports, on the excitement that the hustle and bustle provides.

I sometimes wish I was more like you.

Last night my husband and I talked about what our afternoons and evenings will look like in just a couple of weeks.

We’re going to have to be more intentional about our family time; it’s going to require some creativity and planning. Perhaps picnic dinners together after a soccer game? Sometimes eating as a family around the laminate table at Chick-Fil-A instead of around our weathered table at home?

I started to cry just thinking about the challenges. This is hard for me, I told him.

Our daughter made the cheerleading team and I’m still coming to terms. I am surely the most reluctant cheer mom on the planet. {But that’s a story for another post.}

Terms like “home games” and “away games” are now part of our working vocabulary.

Nike cheer shoes are now part of our budget.

The classes are harder.

Fundraisers pick up.

The baby starts school. All three of them, in school.

It’s a whole new world and it’s terribly uncomfortable.

Public school and academic teams, youth group and cheerleading, band trips and helping in little ones’ classrooms–it’s all come upon me so very quickly. I feel like everyone else has run two full laps and I’m just out of the gate, desperately trying to catch up.

But this morning I received these calming words for an anxious mom:

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.
{Psalm 37:3 ESV}

For my family right now, our “land” is public school and the activities that are an extension of it. Eighteen months ago God opened the doors wide and made it quite clear that we were simply to take the step and He would cover the rest.

And He has. I can’t even begin to tell you how He has.

Though I can hardly consider the coming obligations without breaking into a sweat, his gentle voice simply asks me to dwell.

Do you know what “dwell” means? To abide or to settle down.

Now this is a concept I can handle because I love the idea of “nesting.” Like many of you, I find great comfort and joy in creating homey spaces for my body and soul settle down into.

And that’s what He’s asking me to do:

Trust me. Do this. It’s good. This new life, this new schedule, these new endeavors–don’t make them your enemy. Make them your home.

Abide.

Whether it’s on the bleachers or in the pick-up line or beside your nervous Kindergartener, settle down in me and find rest for your soul. Be open to opportunities I’ve scripted just for you.

This new life is not about your faithfulness, your ability to get it together. Befriend me and receive my provision. Know that I’ve got this.

Perhaps your new schedule has already begun or perhaps you’re like me and the ticking of the August days feels like the ticking of a time bomb.

Wherever you are, you’re not alone. We don’t know exactly how the coming days will look and we don’t have to. He invites us to simply befriend Him, to rest in his faithfulness, to abide in the places He’s chosen for us and for our families.

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So how about you? Does August bring an anxious heart and if so, what brings you comfort and courage {or even organization} for the coming days?

6 Things I Learned in July

I’m linking up with Emily Freeman at Chatting at the Sky. For several months she’s been doing a post at the end of each month entitled, Things I Learned in {Insert Month.} Last month she invited the rest of us to join in. “10 Things I Learned in June” was such a fun post to write, I decided to join in again this month.

So here’s the random goodness I learned in July, in no particular order:

1. I remember every single line from the Dukes of Hazard theme song even though I can’t remember my family member’s birthdays.

We watched an episode recently as a family {my husband’s idea} and it is still awesome, though in a completely different way than it was when I was 10. Call me crazy but it seems that Bo and Luke do not seem to have any gainful employment. They spend their days catching robbers and pestering Boss Hogg. Perhaps they live off Uncle Jesse’s secret trust fund? I don’t know.

I also learned that the narrator of that show is scripted with the best one-liners ever, one-liners that were completely lost on me 30 years ago. {i.e. These boys is in more trouble than two stray heifers in a pasture full of bulls.} That? Is golden.

2. She Speaks was even more amazing than I thought it would be. You can read more about my experience here.

3. It’s a temporary makeover but I learned how to re-do my blog all by my big self. I even made a header with my own photos. {It’s the small victories.} I’m super impatient when it comes to learning new things and the blog re-do took me forever. But I also learned that it’s really gratifying to google lots of questions, give something a try, experience some trial and error, and end up with something you did by yourself. Perhaps 40 will be the “Year of Patience and Not Being Afraid of Computers.”

4. As my kids get older and enter new stages, part of my heart breaks. But I’m learning that I’m really enjoying my kids as they get older. As we’ve spent more time together this summer, I feel inspired for this next stage of motherhood.

There’s knowledge that we now share which makes for deeper conversations and funny stories. My daughter and I can go out for lunch and giggle at the ridiculous conversation the woman next to us is having on her cell phone. And we can laugh about darkly comic stuff she wouldn’t have understood just a few years ago…like this book.

Oh my word, somebody please buy this for me for Christmas.

5. J.K. Rowling used the pseudonym, “Robert Galbraith,” to write a book after she wrote the Harry Potter series. The book was a bestseller. Unfortunately, someone leaked her secret pseudonym but she sued the snitch and won the case yesterday.

So why would one of the most famous authors of all time use a pseudonym? For precisely the reasons one might expect, to get unbiased appraisals of her work. Said Rowling,

I was yearning to go back to the beginning of a writing career in this new genre, to work without hype or expectation. It was a fantastic experience and I only wish it could have gone on a little longer.

Let that be a message for all of us in early stages of our writing careers. There is simplicity, honesty, and freedom in anonymity.

You can read more about the story here. And you can visit “Robert Galbraith’s” official web-site here.

6. And speaking of Ms.Rowling, we are in full-on Harry Potter mode around here. How do I know? Because my middle child is using Harry Potter character conflict {Book 5 to be exact} as personal metaphor:

Me: No, you may not help your younger brother and his friend build their fort. Three is a crowd and because you’re the oldest & biggest, little brother is feeling threatened that you’re just trying to take over his operation.

Middle Child {dead serious & without missing a beat}: So you’re saying that he’s feeling like “Cornelius Fudge” and I’m basically “Dumbledore?”

Me: Um, yes. I hadn’t thought of it that way but that’s exactly what I’m saying.

{See #4 about the fun I’m having with older kids.}

*I put this on FB a while ago so my apologies if this is a repeat. It was too good not to include.

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So there you have it: Six things I learned in July. Your life feels more complete? I’ve inspired you to change the world? You’re going to watch Dukes of Hazard tonight?

a la mode: Your Place for Life-Changing Posts

What fun stuff did you learn in July?

Even better, if you could write under a pseudonym, what would it be?

*And if you’re wondering how one watches quality vintage programming like the Dukes… Amazon Prime. We don’t have cable or a dish but Prime ends up being 6-ish dollars a month and gives us loads of free TV & movies. Plus, 2-day free shipping on anything else Prime provides. Win-Win. {Shameless affiliate plug over.}