Home for Summer

Summer brings a new rhythm to our house.

My husband and I have four children aged 8 and under so it requires some creativity and a great deal of patience to have everyone under the same roof 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In fact, as I write this, my four year old is standing beside me holding a Golden Book, “reading” it to me in her version of a British accent.

Do you know how difficult it is to focus on the task at hand with such cuteness in the room?

Not to mention the inevitable bickering, screaming, whining and rainy day cabin fever that makes everyone feel a bit stir crazy. Add in regular bursts of laughter and the sillies and it’s nearly impossible to concentrate.

They’re in holiday mode; my work still needs to get done.

So how do we do it? How do we coexist in the same space, with very different goals? My goals are to be productive and efficient at all my tasks. Their goals are to be on summer vacation.

Worlds collide.

Can I make room for the chaos that comes with welcoming my children into my plans?

Last week I announced that we’re going to have to be very patient with one another as we adjust to our “summer normal”. I talked about giving each other lots of grace.

I think the talk was more for me than it was for them. Even after years of being surrounded by my small children, they still stretch me beyond my limits and I find myself asking the Lord for great patience and courage to parent with kindness, compassion and intention.

I came across this story in Mark 10:13-16 (NIV) —

People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.

Jesus was indignant when He saw how the disciples were treating those children. He told them to let the children come and not to stop them. This was a stark contrast to how children were viewed and treated in the culture of His day. In fact, instead of rebuking them like His disciples did, Jesus brought the children near and blessed them. He told His disciples that God’s Kingdom belongs to those who are like children, and we would do well to have a simple faith like children do.

Do we have the eyes to see? Do we have the ears to hear? Children view the world in a remarkable way; they are a gift.

This summer, I have another opportunity to learn from my kids, while also teaching them and building a unique relationship with each one.

But if I am consumed with my own narrow plans and goals, I will miss the opportunity altogether.

Being a mom isn’t easy, but the messages of culture aren’t making it any easier. Our culture communicates that “the kids are alright”. In other words, children turn out okay no matter what we do, so we are free to invest the best of ourselves in other places. God’s truth about kids is that they are precious treasures to be welcomed and learned from.

It happens every single time. Whenever I take all four kids to the grocery store, strangers ask “are they ALL yours?” or mention how I have my hands full. We are often the recipients of stares and even glares. Other parents often extend grace, but most of the time the air is thick with huffs of impatience.

Our entire culture is designed to make the kids “someone else’s problem”. We face enormous pressure to put them in daycare, then preschool. When they get to school age, we are told we are depriving them if we don’t enrol them in at least two extracurriculars, which take up most evenings and weekends. In summer, we are encouraged to ship them off to camps and then to grandma’s and then to hire the babysitter so we can accomplish our plans and goals. Mom-memes are filled with jokes about running out of the house as fast as possible when dad gets home or longing for the hour the kids finally go to bed.

It’s funny because it’s true. I really need regular breaks from my kids! I’m a work-from-home/work-away-from-home mama. Sometimes I just need to get. things. done.

But I fear that if we design our entire lives around trying to get away from them, we may give them the impression that we don’t actually want to be around them all that much. And you know what? That’s a really tough impression to get rid of.

When I was a teenager, I read a quote that has stuck with me over the years. It’s a simple prayer that I carry in my heart: “Lord, stamp eternity into my eyes”.

My perspective of parenting needs to be larger than my personal goals and dreams, even in summertime when they’re constantly invading my space.

Back to the living room, on a rainy summer afternoon.

“Mom! Even though Captain Hook has a bigger sword, Peter Pan always wins!” my four year old exclaimed. She held up an illustrated copy of Peter Pan, telling the story by looking at the pictures.

The culture may have a bigger sword, but God’s profound ways and wisdom always wins.

Peter and Hook

Image: a snapshot of Disney’s “Peter Pan” from an old Golden Book

I Yuv You!

Fractured and shortened sleep often leaves me in a sour mood.

We had a good run for a while there, but we’re back to one or two of our four young children waking up at night for random reasons. Sigh. In spite of my reduced energy level this week, I’ve worked at my various tasks faithfully, making sure everything that needed to be done was done on time and with care.

I’m finding, though, that if left unattended, the coals of resentment will burn long and low. All week I’ve been asking the Lord to help me to love my family the way Jesus has loved me – sacrificially and extravagantly.

It’s tough to do. I don’t want my golden years to be defined by the bitterness of a personal ledger filled with names and ways I’ve been wounded. I want my life to be characterized by selfless love. But if I can be completely honest here, it takes work not to let that resentment build and the roots of bitterness to take hold.

My prayer has often simply been, “Lord, help me to love my family the way You have loved me.”

This morning I was in the kitchen with my back turned to the table. I had just set down cups of milk for the kids and was returning to put the jug away.

Within a few seconds, my four year old announced, “Mama there’s a spill!”

I spun around quickly to see her entire cup of milk tipped over, the rich white liquid running onto her chair and the floor below.

My heart sank.

“Oh!” I replied, springing into action with a few cloths from the drawer. As I knelt down on all fours and began to mop up the spill, I felt frustrated. It’s not just one thing – it’s all the things. All the little things I do every day that no one ever says thank you for…

My internal rant was interrupted by an unprompted announcement from my almost 2 year old son.

“I yuv you!”

It stopped me in my tracks. Did I hear him correctly?

He shouted again, “I yuv you!”

When I realized what he was trying to say, I laughed and replied, “I love you too!”

He said it over and over again. “I yuv you! I yuv you!”

With each time, I felt a little lighter. His adorable voice was a soothing balm to a heart scorched by resentful thoughts.

Something so small and seemingly coincidental – an expression of love from my youngest child who is just learning to speak – was the work of the Lord in my life today. In that moment, a gentle reminder that Jesus loves me, He sees me, He knows me.

When I feel forgotten, He is the One who remembers His children. When I feel unappreciated, He is the One who whispers His love in a thousand ways. When I feel exhausted at the thought of getting down on my knees to soak up one more spill, He is the One who knelt down to wash the feet of those who would later deny and betray and abandon Him.

Lord, let Your great love never be lost on me. Let it transform me from the inside out, so that I can love freely and fully, even in the smallest acts of service again and again and again.

walking

Taking a walk

Walking

“It was I who taught Ephraim to walk.”

The tender image of such a father leaped off the page into my heart. I happened to turn to Hosea 11 the other night and my eyes fell to the beginning of the chapter, where God is speaking to His people through the prophet.

It was I who taught Ephraim to walk.

I turned it over in my mind a few times, each time stirring up the precious memories of my own children taking their first steps.

The excitement of the days before they actually walked on their own, knowing they were getting closer and closer to a moment when their life would change forever in the best way.

The encouragement offered as they wobbled from one parent to the other, iron grip on a single finger, unwilling to let go until their feet were steady beneath them.

The patience for fall, after fall, after fall…

And now I understand a little bit more of who God is.

The Hosea passage goes on to talk about how even though God was the one fathering the nation of Israel, they turned away from him. My children are still small, still longing for the comfort of their parents and still hanging on the words we pour into them.

I haven’t known the pain of parenting a wayward child, but I know those who have.

I have witnessed their anguish over the shattering of a most treasured relationship. My heart has grieved and prayed with them as they wait on their knees for their precious one to return home.

All through the Word we see the story of a father’s heart, calling his wayward children back to himself; the very same father who taught his beloved children to walk only to have them turn away, even launching a campaign against him.

And yet, in His perfect love He forgives and restores, making a way for His cherished children to return to the place they truly belong, even though it is a costly way that leads through the death and resurrection of His only Son.

We forget, don’t we? We see God as this vending machine in the sky, or worse, we don’t think of Him at all. And yet, this stunning picture of God as a tender father awaits us in the middle of a book of the Bible that most of us have never looked at for more than a devotional verse here and there.

We are precious children. We were taught to walk by a loving Heavenly Father who has stopped at nothing to call us back home, to bring us out of our sleep and open our eyes to His powerful, life-giving, unending love.

“Come, let us return to the Lord.” Hosea 6:1a (NIV)

little feet stsn

Image: Irene Lasus

Advent in Action 2018

The Advent season begins on Sunday, December 2nd. I always want to be intentional about Advent, but sometimes I don’t know where to start. I hear about hope, peace, joy and love but somehow it can get lost in the pace of the season, so a few years ago I came up with Advent in Action. You’ll hear it on Shine FM Calgary from now ’til December 24th.

Leading up to each Sunday of Advent, I’m sharing small, totally do-able ways to put the themes of Advent into practice throughout the holidays! Follow my Facebook page to join in. This week’s theme is HOPE.

AiAtitle 2018

 

Making Space

We’re about to fall headlong into one of the busiest times of the year. Yes, I am talking about Christmas, even before the pie crumbs of Thanksgiving have really had time to settle and Halloween is still lurking.

I like to work ahead. By this time of the year, I’ve already been thinking about what we’ll do in December, how gifts might work and whether or not I need to start making things early. Life is already busy, and it just gets busier and busier as we head into November and December.

I absolutely adore all things Christmas, but I’ve found that the heart of the season can sometimes get lost in the heavy workload, flurry of activities and temporary demands. My schedule is often overwhelmed with holiday plans and my newsfeed is overrun with events and content even before November begins!

Let’s be honest for a moment. Most of us are knee deep in some sort of mess that we’re expected to tidy up just in time for the guests to arrive. We manage to find some cheer for an hour or two and then it’s right back to the grind we’ve made for ourselves, with all its harsh realities. When we’re working at capacity, we may find ourselves falling into a bit of a Scrooge attitude, grumbling under our breath about all the things we’ve still got to do before the deadline.

So I’m learning to choose now, more than two months in advance, to leave room in my schedule for rest, reflection and worship. It’s counterintuitive because the pace of the season is part of the fun! But Christmas is so much more than parties, presents and perfection. And through the  sacrifices and re-ordering of holiday priorities, I am finding the Lord in the unexpected quiet places.

We need that space to breathe in the true wonder of the season. Not the lights and the sparkle, but the unveiling of the Source of all authentic hope, peace, joy, and love: the Saviour of the world, coming as a baby on a bed of hay.

A baby.

Have you held or beheld a newborn recently? Perfectly formed and perfectly helpless. It’s the most incredible of ways that the God of Heaven could come to earth to bring salvation to a world that rejected Him so brutally.

Instead of filling our schedules with plans upon plans this holiday season, let’s make room for Jesus. Let’s welcome Him fully. Let’s let His deep, deep love overwhelm us and give Him centre stage in our holiday experience this year.

Let’s make space for the One who truly is the greatest gift of all.

holiday lights

Holiday lights

Dandelion Bouquets

The dandelions are popping up everywhere.

That’s how I know it’s almost Mother’s Day.

As a little girl, I wandered the yard and picked the biggest, brightest ones. I bunched up as many as I could curl my small fingers around and carefully carried them inside, leaving a trail of yellow bits behind me.

“Here Mom! Happy Mother’s Day,” I’d say. As soon as she saw the bouquet in my hands, her eyes lit up, face filled with joy, and she’d kiss my cheek and say, “Thank you, my sweet petunia.”

Then she’d take them and set them in the clear, short-stemmed, pressed glass water goblet on the middle of the table, as if they were a dozen long stem roses.

There they would stay, on that brown table in our tiny kitchen with the matching turquoise appliances, Mother’s Day evening sun streaming in the small west window, until they wilted.

And in the springtime of my teens, right in the middle of that long brown table in the farm kitchen with the strawberry plant wallpaper and brown paneling, Mother’s Day morning sunshine streaming in that east window above the sink, until they wilted.

Year after year, I picked dandelions for my mom. And year after year, they went on display, filling my little heart with joy and pride.

Our dandelions appeared this week, and they don’t stand a chance of going to seed because as soon as my own girls see one, it gets picked… just for me.

The tradition continues.

Without fail, they bloom in three generations of hearts, as a sweet shared memory of the most beautiful Mother’s Day bouquet of all.

I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

dandelions for ma

Dandelion bouquets

An Anniversary Lament (well, it started that way)

I am literally trying to do three things at once, with only two eyes to help me. I have one eye on the stove, cooking dinner, one eye on the preschooler who is “playing with” the baby (which requires fairly close supervision these days), and luckily, no eyes left to look at the pile of dishes spilling out of the sink onto the counter beside.

Sleep has been minimal recently because little kids, life keeps on handing us repairs upon repairs, and in recent weeks we’ve seen our fair share of “teachable moments” in our family.

We are in that season – the one where you rarely find yourself wondering what you should do with all your free time! haha!

I was secretly (or not-so-secretly now!) lamenting the way this season of life will affect our anniversary celebrations this week, with all the regular stuff on the schedule. Parent-teacher interviews. Work committments. Tax prep. Where is the romance in all of this?! I grumbled to myself.

Then it dawned on me. Two nights ago at 2:25am, our three year old woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep because her blanket wouldn’t fit over her six stuffies lined up beside her on her bed. Of course they NEEDED a blankie because they were scared, she insisted. This amazing man got up and tucked her back in, MORE THAN ONCE.

Every day, I see him making little sacrifices (and big ones) because he loves me, and our family.

Where’s the romance? Yep – found it. Over and over and over again.

Love you, Honey. Happy Anniversary. Here’s to many more.

anniversary

One of my favourites from our wedding day!

Love One Another

With Valentine’s Day behind us and Lent right in front of us, I was thinking about these verses from John 13 this morning.

***

 “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

John 13:34-35 (NIV)

If you read John 13, you see that these two verses come between Jesus foretelling His betrayal by one of His inner circle and His public denial by a dear friend. At the beginning of the chapter, He washes all of the disciples’ feet, even the ones who would betray and deny Him just a short time later.

We sometimes wonder what it looks like to love as Jesus loves. It’s easy when we think people are worthy! But what about those in our lives who cause deep wounds that last? Can we love even these? Jesus’ love looks like sacrifice. It looks like something so irrational and extravagant. It is love lavished on the undeserving, love that goes beyond any expectation, love that feels excessive.

The extent to which we can accept this kind of love is the extent to which we can pour ourselves out for those God puts in our lives.

When Jesus gave this instruction, He knew He was asking us to do the impossible. That’s why I’m praying today – Lord Jesus, help me receive Your amazing love in my life! And teach me how to love like You do. Show me what that looks like at this very moment, with the people around me.

beatnikphotosheartflickr

Image: “Hearts”, Beatnik Photos, Flickr

I Threw Away “The List”

I don’t write much about marriage. It’s not because I don’t have things to say, it’s because I feel like I haven’t been married long enough to really know what I’m talking about, you know what I mean?

This year we celebrate 9 years of marriage. I love my man with all my heart! But we’re still babies at this whole thing.

When I was single, I had The List. It was loaded with things that a guy had to be or have in order to qualify for a second look. It was ridiculously specific, and frankly, unrealistic. Every guy I met was measured against The List. And it brought alot of heartache.

One day, it dawned on me. I wasn’t really being very fair, was I? I had always prayed for the person I would hopefully marry one day, that God would put us in each other’s lives, and that He would give me someone who loved Jesus and was willing to follow Him no matter the cost. But I wasn’t willing to trust God with the details on this one.

So I threw The List away. Instead, I wrote down my non-negotiable qualities on one side of a piece of scrap paper, and my negotiable qualities on the other side.

Then, I just lived the life that was in front of me.

In God’s timing and by His grace, we found each other. Ten years ago this month, a girl from a tiny land-locked farming town on the Canadian prairies met a boy who grew up near the beach in sunny California, and the rest is history! Hearts, hearts, hearts!

I stumbled upon that new list the other day was I was looking for something else. As I read through the qualities on each side, I was amazed at God’s faithfulness and love for me in providing me with this man who sat beside me as we drove.

If you have ever doubted God’s faithfulness, know that He hears every prayer you pray, and sees every tear you cry. He is real, He is present, and He is working in ways you cannot imagine.

 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

together

Young love

Before We Even Knew

This morning I am sharing a quick thought on Romans 5:8 (with the surrounding verses included for context). I wrote these thoughts eight years ago, but they still ring true for me now.

***

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.”

Romans 5:6-11 (NIV)

It’s amazing to me that before we even really understood what was going on or knew what God was up to, He made a way for us to have peace with Him. Before we even knew we needed it – the Gift was given through Jesus Christ. We often think we have to do something to earn peace with God — have our lives in perfect condition, with no flaws, no problems, no blemishes. The beauty of God’s grace is that we don’t have to perform in order for God to love us. He just does. And He showed it when He sent His only Son to die for a world of people who didn’t measure up on their own, and He did this while we were still sinners. He didn’t wait for us to get it all together. Christ died for us while we were in that unreconciled state – and He knew all along that there would be people who would never accept what He’s done on their behalf.

Love in action, before we even knew it. Truly amazing.

July 7 2009 Extravaganza

Image: “July 7 2009 Extravaganza”, Pilottage, Flickr