wake up little sunshine

I remember thinking years ago that if a sappy mom could have a few favorite posts of her kids, this is one .  Certainly, I don't have favorite kids.... but posts? Yeah.  Those pics of Vivi's sweaty head, back when she had blue eyes and her big brother delighting in her new-for-that-afternoon awakeness, all with him again.  Favorite sweetness for this mama.

And now this...  same sweet silly girl and the morning wake-up this time.

All this love and sugar and sunshine.

Couldn't love this girl more...

  

And then the obligatory Good Morning Headstand.  Just because she's fun like that.  

New Mom, New Kid

I had heard of this book before and maybe I'd seen the cover.  I thought about it as a book for other people.  People who thought there'd be a quick fix or an easy formula to get parenting right- let them try it.  I knew better than that.

But in a very grey puddleslug season of mothering recently, a dear friend and mentor passed on this same title to me encouraging me to take a look.  Hearing it from her, I finally agreed and snatched up a kindle copy of How to Have a New Kid by Friday (by Dr. Kevin Leman.)

So... my humble pie?  The book is totally, especially, exactly for me.  It's a book that is positively about helping me be a stronger mom before I even think of focusing on getting any new kids from the deal.  You bet I want to see change in them, but I know I need change in me first.  Leman tells you in the book not to ruin the fun and tell your kids about the changes coming (when you start implementing the strategies in the book) but instead, just to make it a surprise for them.   No threats, no warnings, just consequences delivered on the spot.

At our house, I'm happy to tell them that I'm learning, I'm changing, I'm becoming a new mom who is aiming to do a much better job at helping my kids learn to obey, choose wisely, and work for excellence.  Seems only fair to give them just a tiny heads up that things, are, indeed changing around here....

I had heard that the book was about giving your kid real life consequences.  I thought I knew enough about that and that I was probably doing it about as good as could be done.  I was wrong.   This book is equipping me to change things pretty completely.

These have happened already....
Old:  "Hey kids, can you please pick up your roller blades and helmets at the front door?"
They'd "forget" and I'd steam a bit and holler louder and get testy and unfun and holler some more before the job would maybe, half-way get done, half an hour later...
New:  1- Give them the instruction one time (smiling firm with "I love you and I am your authority" certainty into their eyes (that's my little addition)) 2- turn your back, 3- walk away.  When I see half an hour later that they stepped over their rollerblades and went outside to play, I ask their brother to put it all away for them.  And add "and buddy, those two will be paying you from their allowance for this extra chore you're doing for them.  Good job."  And you know, he gets the job done well and they won't forget so easily again.

Old:  Rudeness and disrespect in classtime.   I used to lecture them about it- it never helped them one drip and it only heated me up with frustration and helped them not want to hear my words.
New:  "Hey loves, since you were unpleasant in classtime, I'm going to add extra classwork to make your afternoon less pleasant for you too.  Here's your extra math assignments.  I hope this will help you remember now that a kind and respectful attitude is absolutely expected of you in our family."

Old:  Bickering at the table.  For so long, I've felt like there's nothing that I could do for a bad attitude or for behavior like this.  I was wrong.
New:  "You two are excused from the breakfast table.  You'll have to sit in your room till you can speak to each other peacefully and solve this on your own."  And if plates have been removed from the table when they come out, a little extra hunger will help them remember to find a way to speak peaceably at the table next time.  (Dr. Leman makes a strong case for never doing things for your kids that they can do for themselves.  Peacemaking is a big one.  Their responsibility- more often than not- not my job to solve their squabbles for them.)

And... from the book Siblings Without Rivalry, a recent GEM that was loaned to me from across the country!, the authors say the same thing.... how parents can aim to guide kids to solving problems, making peace themselves without parents taking either side.  (I'll have to write more about this book soon too... it helps me so much to write to remember!)

This one hasn't happened yet, but I'm ready for it now...
Old:  Arguing in public or in the car.  Again, I would just lecture them about why they should stop and complain about how terrible it is to listen to them....
New:  Since parenting can be awfully inconvenient, strong parents need to be ready to be really inconvenienced for the sake of serving and training their kids well, the book reminds us.  I need to be ready to turn the car around and take them home hungry.   And not give in and fill their tummies with treats as soon as they show one tiny glimmer of repentance or some new kindness.  Hold your ground, mama.  "No dear, I'm really not going to take you to that friend's house even though you're speaking more kindly now.   I'm glad you're doing better but I need to see you choosing to keep yourself speaking respectfully.  We'll have to try again for next week."

Dr. Leman stresses, when giving consequences:  "B doesn't happen until A is done."  A is the consequence you give them..... and B is everything else that every child depends on their parents for....   money, driving privileges, phone access, time with friends and online....    I'm realizing that more up-front, real-world consequences over things that matter helps my kids see me for what I truly want to be for them:  the kind of mom that loves them fierce and true and will stand up and fight for them and dive in and get dirty helping them to learn character and skillful excellence. I want to be the kind of mom that will pour out my last comforts and conveniences for the sake of truly, really helping them grow up into maturity and honor.  Lecturing has never done the job.

Personally, I've felt handcuffed by fears of stepping outside what our culture (and this culture) insists is positive, polite parenting... Plus, I couldn't imagine a tolerable way to be a stronger HELP to our kids, rather than just telling them what I hoped they would do.  One of my dear friends joked on me for "hurling virtues" at our kids while I was cooking in the kitchen:  "Come one guys! Bravery!  Kindness!  You can do it!"  I think, in general, we are a generation of parents that doesn't know how to be strong for our kids,  to be a helpful, loving authority, training our children to get good things down.  I think our parental handcuffs and handicaps are plain as day when you look at kids in this generation.  And I'm glad there's some help and some hope to see things change for the better...

at the heart

What a season...  An exclamation point could do here, but at the same time, it doesn't fit.  Life has slowed and stilled on the blog front because it seems like the five lives with me in the house are growing and going at race pace with all the regular.... which I know well, is far less for us here than "the regular" stuff and pace of life in America.  But it makes me question my own soul- life and rest and growth in me- to see how halted life has been here- where my heart lives, where I love to pour out some overflow in the edge hours, once all the tucking in is done.

My desire and aim for our home is to be a loving, lively, living place....  A place for tender embraces and long looks into other's eyes to listen to tellers tell stories.  A place for  exuberance and silly and we-live-here kind of messes and hopefully enough manners learned and practiced to keep a mama sane and keep us somewhat doable for welcoming friends to come in.  A place for green things drinking in air and water and sunshine,  for fresh-baked smiles and licking our fingers, for songs sung loud and for Words written living, deep in our hearts, together.  And by the grace of God, I think we do live like this most days...  along with the ever-present backdrop of pretty continual bickering.  sigh.

This blog hasn't been so loved, or so living.  There are seasons for that.  And there's grace for that.  But I do look forward to cultivating more growth here again.  I long for soul growth in me again... for reading and writing and finding and creating beauty, for celebrating living.

I've missed birthdays...  I don't think I've ever skipped any blog record of kid birthdays in our home before.  But I have now.  Isaiah is ELEVEN and Vivian is SIX (she's even memorized A.A. Milne's poem for the occasion).  Isaiah had a great crew of young men over to our place for fun games and play and dinner and then they watched Fantastic Beasts.  I didn't snap a single picture and I woke up that night like my heart was stabbed when I realized it.  Vivian had an "easy party" (for mama's sake) the next day and we took her and two sweet girlfriends to Beauty and the Beast and beef noodle soup for lunch.  We even had some of our dear friends over that evening for cake and play to celebrate both of them together... a sweet first.

And my man, my dearest and bestest, my admired and delighted-in husband turned 40.   It went completely unmentioned and he's glad for that.  We're hoping to get the six of us to some mountains nearby for a first family camping trip and we'll mark it as Dad's (and Mom's since it will be right between our b-days) Fortieth celebration.

The two of us got lunch out -noodles too spicy for the kids to eat anyway- to celebrate our 13th anniversary too.  Still can't believe I get to be married to him.

***

When we were in the states, I got to be in a Wednesday morning Bible study with a group of saints and story-tellers and beautiful lovers of Jesus that I came to love deeply.  I think it was the youngest one there, who told us, teary-eyed, how her own soul felt a bit lost since she'd become a mama to two tiny ones.

I've been there.  (Hasn't every mama?)  But after that, for me, I was grateful to return to some more years of growth and awareness and expansion in my soul again.  It seems the cycle has come full swing though, and again, the past near-year or so has been a new stage of pruning.  Like the branches in our apartment complex that our kids grieved over: "Why do they have to be cut back so much!?"  "When will it ever have branches and leaves and fruit and flowers again!?"

Today I cleaned the house and decided I'd let the time spent wiping and washing be restful, take pleasure in the beautifying of this place we're blessed to call home.  Let it be slow and enjoy the transformation.  No need to race through this too as if efficiency at all things is the only way a thing matters.  I planted seeds too, on our patio, that I feel like royalty to get to have here in a packed and run-down city.  I'm going to put out the hammocks this evening and watch the clouds.  

Tomorrow is another day for work.  There will be plenty of it and it is of eternal value and our labor in this is not in vain.  This I trust.  But a day off is good.  God took the day off after he had worked six good days and how can I do any better?

I can't.

Matt told me a few months ago that it seems like I assume a thing doesn't exist unless it's been spoken or recorded...  What he noticed was sadly true in me and I need to recognize it's untrue to believe.  There is so much in him, in me, in our home and kids and life all around us that is living and growing even if I don't have words that can hold it, a shutter that can capture it, eyes to recognize it at all.  Give us grace, Lord, to live it.  I want to give all that I can to live every moment the fullest full for God's glory- even when there's no pencil and paper or blog to type on or camera to record it.  But too, it is in the naming of gifts, the counting them, the remembering them and celebrating and pondering and recognizing anew... that life is stirred in the depths.  It doesn't have to be everything, every time...  but a record of graces, a place to ponder these gifts, is for me, itself a place of birthing and beholding life.  (HT:  Ann V.)

So here's to renewed reading and writing, to some homemade sangria on the patio on another day off, to guitar strumming and listening long and serving each other,  and capturing still shots of all this living, this growing grace I'm so privileged to see and to serve.

Now for the rest of this day to be restful in ways that allow for the stirring up of life under the soil in me too.

May it be, Lord, for Your glory.

FEEL... growing to see the gift and strength of emotion

A few years ago, we listened to a sermon series from Tim Keller that later became his book The Prodigal God.  When we finished, I made a mental list:  Things Our Kids Must Hear / Read Before They Go... (and grow out of our home).  Keller's series is the first on the list.

Nancy Pearcy and Francis Schaeffer are on the list.  There will be something from the Rebelution crowd...  And a few from Piper (of course).  And now also this book by Matthew Elliot:  Feel:  the power of listening to your heart.  It's a Biblical look at emotions, a very practical, helpful guide to sharpening your understanding of your own heart; this book was a  very needed gift.  As I read, I felt like I was in a growth spurt, climbing up some emoto-meters on a sacred doorframe.  This message seems to me an enormous help toward maturity and holiness and sensitivity for whole soul health and relationships.  

It must be noted that, I think, the book has a pretty terrible subtitle.  Bad enough to solidify in one or two of us Ks a serious enough (mis)judgement that we were ready to skip this gem altogether... just because of that one dumb line.   Having now devoured the book and profited from every page, I firmly believe that the subtitle is the last dumb line in the whole book.   And true, the book actually does address where and how and why there is goodness in "listening to your heart" but the way that our culture sings that song, even with those exact words, (in too many princess movies and all sorts of lines of deception and lure) I think it would have been much better to invite people in, to read the substance of the book before using Disney's words to mean something far better than Disney's ever dreamed.  

So... emotion.  It turns out, as Matthew Elliot exposes it, that much of what the wider Christian community has assumed is a "Christian view" or understanding of emotion, just really wasn't a fully bodied appreciation of the gift that the God of the Bible has delighted to create in us.  I think as Christians, we have tried to compensate for what seems often like a sinful emphasis on "just do whatever feels good to you" and have ended up tossing out a gift that we've actually been commanded to guard and grow, that was meant to lead us in wisdom, and to be a sparkling, winsome display of the fruit of the Spirit in our ordinary lives where we live in a dry and weary land.   

A wise and beautiful friend shared with me this past fall how she's been learning in counseling that her sadness isn't a bad thing.  For so long she assumed and acted as if feeling sad meant not trusting God.  Not so.  Sadness is needful and entirely appropriate in it's time.   

Another dear friend saw me right after we said good-bye to Matt's parents last month.... We would fly back to our China home the next day and I had a thousand weights on my heart about good-byes, preparations, the days of travel ahead of us, and landing back to in difficult place.  My friend said to me something about feeling deserted by God.   True, I was a wreck:  so sad and low strength.  But I wasn't doubting God's goodness or His faithfulness to His promises to me.  Not at all!  I was feeling sad.  And it was a worthy moment to feel exactly that.  Even knowing well and clinging to God's goodness, nearness, faithfulness.

I've felt so helped in reading this book to realize that my emotions are indeed something that I should pay careful attention to, be honest with myself and others about, and wisely choose how I let them guide me.

The book tied in to another gift that Matt and I received in January.  We met a few times  with a wise counselor friend and were very surprised to realize that though I am an intense "feeler" and can be crazy longwinded, I don't communicate my emotions, or actually name my feelings, very well at all.  Too often he would hear me trying to explain a hard situation as me being hard on someone else (whoever I was interacting with).  Instead, what would be so much better is to simply express is how I'm feeling... That way he can comfort me (which is what I want and need) rather than respond by trying to fix the situation or address or defend the other person (which is not where we need to go at all.)   

Our counselor suggested such a simple thing as asking each other "How are you feeling about...?" (instead of our normal "What do you think about...?") or "How do you feel when I do/say....?"  Or, a big one for the wife whose husband isn't the most verbose of all men, "dear, it looks like you're feeling.... Am I understanding you rightly?"

An unexpected and fantastically helpful blessing of this emotional awareness has come for us in parenting.  Since trying to apply this learning even in just the simplest ways to our discussion and interactions with our kiddos, I'm thinking that this might be quite a game changer for us.  Too often it's been my tendency to try to talk our kids out of what they're saying, without even acknowledging their feelings.  

They might say of their siblings, "No body wants me to play with them!"... and I would respond on the contrary.  "That's not true... They really love you even if they've been unkind...." or  "No... you're not seeing the situation rightly...."

How much better to dialog with them gently with words like:  "oh man, I can see that you're feeling really hurt and sad.  I really want to understand how you're feeling because you matter so much to me.  Can you tell me why you're feeling like that?"  

Our kids have responded so much better to us since we've seen this and tried to slow down and speak into their eyes and ask questions that get right into the realest depths of their treasured hearts.  Now, this and every other little trick we've tried has yet to give us a ticket out of the Fall that's broken all of us, and most days we're feeling remarkably broken still, but we're clinging to grace. And still, trying to hear each other's hearts and love each other in our realest feelings has been a sweet new gift to enjoy as we limp forward in grace together.

Mother Suffering

When my mom passed away I was an absolute novice at grief and loss.  Matt took me on a walk about a week after her home-going:  just circled the block right out our front door.  I leaned on him like I was recovering from some major surgery or devastating sickness, us (both 27) walking the pace of 90 year olds.  I couldn’t move any faster.  Those first days I could barely breathe.  But I could cry in church and lay my head down on Matt’s shoulder and he would hold me tight and it was alright and nobody acted like I was the least bit improper.   They knew.

I knew nothing about planning a funeral. I’d never even cared for a friend who’d experienced loss.  I wouldn’t have known how.  But I was blown away by the friends who somehow knew.  They sent flowers.  They brought food and just sat with me in the afternoons on the way home from work.  They wrote cards- short cards, few and simple and totally loving words.  They shared their memories and snapshots of my mama.  They loved her with me and they loved me.  I was surrounded and upheld and it’s all a cherished Ebenezer in my life to this day.   

That was almost twelve years ago.  I birthed four babies soon after she left (in the span of 5 years.)  I wanted her to tell me how to do this motherhood thing.  I wanted her to tell me I could do it and that she would help me.  I wanted her with me, her hand stroking my hair with mother-blessing, infusing me with the courage I needed so badly.  

I’ve been at this motherhood thing for more than ten years now.  I’m privileged to see the daily feedings of my little multitude at our table and it strikes me as a miracle of grace three times a day (plus snacks).  I get to see Him soothing stormy seas souls too- when by faith, He stands over us and speaks “Hush…Peace… Be still” and we can receive His calm and make peace and make joy together again.  

Still, it’s in picking up the leftovers at the end of each miraculous day, and sometimes between quarrels and boxing matches of various kinds and alternating contestants throughout the day, that I question, “Why, amidst so many miracles and obvious blessings, would there be so much painful fallout from our lives together?"  The crumbs and shards of my own brokenness- and theirs-  seem to be the bulk of the leftovers that fill my basket, even with all these repeated miracles we witness together- the daily grace that sustains us.  

I told a friend a few days ago “I’m not one of those brave moms, I’m too sensitive and weak.”  I’ve experienced grief and, Really? I’d call this stuff of motherhood “suffering"?  Simply the daily ordeal of bickering and meanness and madness and a few slammed doors and stomping away and the foolishness and “can you please try to remember what I said just a minute ago?” and, “well, then...can you please do it?” …. Yep.  It is for sure a kind of suffering for me. 

One of the things I’ve learned about grief is that my thoughts turn to mush.  Reason and rationale all blur with emotion and numbness and pain and nothing is left coherent.  And this is definetely true of my motherhood struggles.  Processing sometimes seems rational but for much of the mess of my heart, I have to admit that I don’t always see things rightly and I need Jesus, need to cling tight, for however this storm blows and whatever I feel.  Storms often feel stronger and scarier than they really need to be….  Cling to Christ, Jillian.  

Sometimes the only English I hear all day is our children's occasional gladness, splattered with the beating and bruising of sibling bullying.  (And moms don’t have to move to China to find this true for them too.)  It’s bullying alright…  except that they’re constantly rotating roles between pharisee-abuser and victim.  And if that doesn’t break me down, the utter foolishness can crumble that last whole pieces of me to dust.  “Buddy, you’re how old and did you really think that dangle-twirling the craft-trash can on your toes while you read at the couch would go well?” And I would probably be strong for it other days, but sometimes a good kid line is like a straw to this camel… “Sweetheart, mama’s cooked (what feels like) 4,000 meals this week and washed (approximately) 5,000 dishes and we won’t go into the laundry or the guests or the languages swirling in my brain and the burdens breaking my heart and I’m tired, darling.   Can you tell me about the snail in the puddle after I finish this sentence?"

I know that I’m still just beginning at this til-death journey of motherhood.  There’s more to come, more joys and sorrows.  And I know this too:  this is hard.  

And guilt makes it harder.  Because how else have my kids so perfected these patterns?  So now not only do I have to listen to bickering and the far too frequent nagging drip of dishonor and disrespect, but I also have to admit that I’ve modeled all this complaining and overreacting and impatience for them, all this gunk that they’ve learned so well.  

But I’ve got to call myself to some clear perspective: I have fantastic kids.  They are growing to listen and love and show honor to me in great ways and in hard pinches when they’d much rather go their own way.  They aren’t perfect, just like their mom and dad, but we’re growing in grace together and it is a joy to be family together much of the time.  There is just this deep ugly root that strikes harder than anything else in us right now- this sibling rivalry-bickering thing.  There's pharisee-ism and volcanic overreactions and complaining and boasting and fussing too... but this one is our biggie and I can’t seem to get under it.  Oh but He knows…. Cling to Him.  

The thing is, for all this sorrow and confusion, I feel no freedom to cry in public and I don’t get to take slow walks for the pain.  And yes, of course, I probably just need to grow up about all of this. 

And it breaks me to write any of this because I know far too well that there can be, should be, might be solutions to all of these troubles.  If I would only read this book (This is The plan, The book on parenting and it’s all you need and then it will all be better…).  If I would just follow-through and always be consistent.  (Which would be more doable if my kids were consistent with their trials and tribulations rather than pitching new ones at me faster than (insert the name of speedy awesome pitcher that a baseball wife like me ought to know.))  I laughed when I saw the blog headline “six words to stop sibling rivalry” but I clicked on it just to see… Seriously?  It was sweet, but it wasn’t a joke.   Apparently, all I need to say to them is “How can you make this better?”

There’s something about this kind of struggle that others don’t acknowledge with caring eyes or a soft hand on your shoulder.   We are a public nuisance in our bicker mode, so I get it.   But the public shame I hear (and fear) doesn’t help either.  “Man, that lady’s kids are loud!” and “That sounds like fingernails on a chalk board.” (Why, you’re right.  That’s *Exactly* what it sounds like.  And I would give just about anything to silence it, believe me, please.)  And why is “dear, you’re in a hard stretch” not the approach we often take with each other?   And how about crying a little together? And which mom in my shoes isn’t already trying all she possibly can to make things better already?   

Who would ever respond to the grieving me above by saying “oh, your mom died?  Well mine is still alive and she’s wonderful.”  I’m grateful no one said anything like that to me 12 years ago.   But let’s not miss the similarity to lines like, “Oh, your kids bicker?  I don’t even have to tell my kids to be kind…”  

Mercy, Lord.   

I am one grateful sinner that all this mess is exactly what the Gospel is for.  

Forgiveness for my failures and comfort and hope and help and sure promises for the future.  Faithful love to bind up all of our brokenness and bind us together in Christ.  I have all the promises of God and that actually is more than enough to combat all of our sinful attitudes and patterns, all exponentially multiplied (which is the formula for family.)  

This little post is equal parts clinging-to-Christ and soul-honest-lament, and it isn’t complete without me squaring up and staring down my own soul with the hard questions:  Maybe I’m too hungry for compassion and I really should be harder after solutions, better methods, communication, or better yet, maybe I only need to be more earnest in prayer for my children?  Maybe I need to own up to my responsibility to model all this needed peace better for them, somehow?  And how does a mom whose preached too many sermons at her kids, point them yet again, effectively, to the Savior who is the Only One who can do the miracle in us that we most desperately need?

Matt often has to talk me down from new plans and extremes.  And maybe that’s sone of what makes this so hard?  There’s no fixing it, just promise-clinging to make it through.  Because the best that I can see of this mess, is that there’s no honest, easy solution.  There’s just grace and that can’t be called easy and it sure isn’t cheap.  But it’s the toughest stuff in the universe I think… and exactly what our bicker battles need and its the best I can dream of: trusting God’s promises and presence with me- and holding tight for the ride.    He was faithful in the wilderness for 40 years to a people who'd dare complain straight against him when he'd just blown open the Red Sea to save them and he’s still faithful and patient and abounding in love for me, for us, today.  

Hold Fast, Jill.  We are going to make it, by His grace.  To see reasons for joy right here, right now.  To healthier patterns.  To saner years.  To build this family on the strength of His truth and look back with joy and gratefulness for all of it.

And because I have to keep things simple, short enough to post up on the fridge, if I really need to remember it.... and because I *really* need to remember this... I’ll preach our simple course of action to myself yet again:

Start clinging to God's promises... roots deep in the Truth of His Word.

Ask for wisdom (James 1:5)

Love them.  (Be Patient.)

Model the peace of Christ in you, for them. 

Teach them to choose to do hard and holy things. 

Pursue their joy.  Encourage gratitude.  (Because those two are inseparable.  Thanks AV)  

Speak slowly, calmly, kindly.  Smile deep, breathe deep and fill their eyes and hearts with your love.)  

Listen long. (It will probably involve snails and poop and plotless story lines but their might also be some confession and secret dreams shared and precious prayers.)

Serve humbly, selfless.  (Them above you.) 

Be firm (and probably slow) in authority and discipline, with compassion...
Compassion. Before. Consequences. 
Preach the Gospel!  Live, Give the Gospel message of grace.

Be quick to ask for forgiveness because you’re going to need it too.

You will fall down (don’t be surprised).  Get back up again, grateful for the Gospel that gives you forgiveness and life.  

Keep a song in your heart… and keep clinging on...

Related:  another mom’s heart:  The Joy and Sorrow of Parenting

Mornings Together... Getting ready for the World, rooted in the Word

She got The Biggest Story (by DeYoung) as her 5 year old birthday gift and now she calls it "my Bible"...  We'll get her a biggie of the real deal when she's reading a bit better but we just delight that she loves to try to track along with Daddy's reading.  She's got a good record of finding a pic in "her Bible" that goes along with what Matt's reading so far.  So soo super sweet!

make him a man after your own heart, God!

... and this one too, please, Lord!
(Honest, we're working, still working, on "learning posture" to show honor when it's due!)

Apparently, "learning posture" is a bit hard to find at our house sometimes...  but she's been writing songs of Jesus love that are beautiful beyond ballet perfect posture!  Love this girl too...  Oh God make them, makes us all, to hunger and thirst for you and fill them like only You can!  Anchor us in Your true and perfect Word,  Lord!

If I could turn back time {the two biggest changes I'd make as a mom}

Recently I've been thinking over my most needful lessons in mothering.  There are many, but these two things, if I could turn back time, would be the first things I'd change about how I've loved and led our kiddos.   These two set the stage for bright, melodious joy... and I'm the most grateful mama to find that there's still time to adjust the backdrop for our family stage yet again ... (and to keep adjusting, keep pursuing, keep begging for forgiveness and keep trying again with the Lord's grace to hit the mark here.)  

Speak calmly.  Where else have they learned to fly off the handle, but from me?  Yea, they're kids and this is a fallen world:  real anger gets triggered.  Sometimes there's a deliberate choice against my instructions.  That spark of anger is a valid flare for me to notice, "this needs discipline."   (It's not going to get better with yelling.)  Handle it calmly. Sometimes there's a complex mix of rights and wrongs and I'm going to need wisdom.  Wisdom and calm, firm, loving words, Jill! 

Sometimes a flare of anger strikes up but it's just time for me to swallow the inconvenience, bend low and look into their little eyes and speak patient love in all that I am to all that they are.   Like when she twisted open the soap in the grocery cart and we got to deal with a few foamy handfuls of green apple-scented mess before the bottle was ready to load into the bag?  She had no idea about that twisty lock.  Time for patience.   

Anger in me, I'm finding is probably always a marker that this thing needs either discipline for the kiddo or patience from me.  No situation will be better, nor will I or my kiddos be better off in any way for me to yell or speak harshly.  

Laugh generously.  Laugh about bumps and bruises, and even minor injustices because not every matter needs to be handled like bounty hunters in a court of law.  Love like mercy: glad to see quick forgiveness, not demanding super-human justice and righteousness, not requiring adult comprehension speeds and "how high?" on the way up....  Requiring obedience, yes, ( I do want to train them to live a path of blessing and honor) but obedience mercifully, graciously gained.  Love covers over a multitude of real life together.  Laughter and well chosen humor just might be the best way around things sometimes.   Proverbs 17 calls it "seeking love" to cover over an offense.  

I think it could have made a big difference in my crew if they had seen me choose lighthearted, glad laughter instead of crisp and clear justice-demanding as my way through disagreements and squabbles and frustrations.  Oh for lighthearted, trusting joy!

When the kids see us pursuing each other's joy, when they know that a glad laughter hunt is going to be what we're after again every mealtime, every coming and going, and at every lesson, maybe it will become so thick an expectation, so regular a pattern, that we can all grow up in the shape of this liberating, trusting, gladness   May it be, Lord.   

Like the wise doctor who told us that the couples who stay together are the couples who use humor to lighten the load of stress and difficilty and even disagreement.  Humor is a choice, a trusting-the-other, and even more, a trusting-God choice.  It's a holy weapon for hunting beauty and joy out of gloom and bickering grey.  It's a gift.  And I want to be trained and to train my kids to use it skillfully, and often!   We want to be the ones who are better than the mighty who take a city:  this mom and kids ~ who have learned to rule themselves (Provers 16:32), hold their minds and hearts to what is true and cling tenaciously to the promises of God that He will work even this for His glory and our joy.  

Lord mark us, with your peace and calmness in our storms.  And mark us as celebrants of all of your graces!  Mark us with your JOY!

The Core of our Home

I think this first draft was completed by mid November last year.  It just needed a few more edits.  Then there were holidays and a few weeks of no internet and then we travelled 

Finally, it's post-able!

I remember the guy who exhorted my high school-age crowd to stoke the fire of our hearts in worship.  He shared about his wife and how he chose to keep his vows even if he wasn't feeling a flame all burning hot for her.  Sometimes because he wasn't feeling that spark, that was his best indicator that it was time to bring home some flowers or new music as a gift specifically to bless her and equally, to reignite passion in him for what he is vowed and committed to: to reignite joy for what he truly does cherish and wants to delight in more.

There are countless, important ways to apply this in life.  Out of all the messages I heard growing up in church, for some reason that one little loaf has been a lunch the Lord has fed me with over and over again.  It's pretty plain, but He's multiplied it in my life like only He can do.

And I've found myself surprised this fall to find it going farther than I knew, yet again.  In worship and in marriage, my vows need to be guarded and guided with intentionality, proactivity.  I'm finally seeing that the same blessing is there to be had in motherhood too: a holy and blessed commitment to choose joy and serve up joy for our kids as their Mom.

Grandma and Vivi at the merry-go-round in the park

Just after the music ended and she had to be pulled off her pony...  Exactly the moment when she heard me say, "Vivi, the merry-go-round guy said you can get back on for another spin."  

I was thinking of this post a few weeks ago, imaging it titled "That lesson I'm learning from Grandma." Dale and Mary were with us for two weeks earlier this fall.   Matt's mom, Mary, has this gift down.  The woman is a joy warrior who intentionality picks up each of our kids and shakes off their grumps and fusses and speaks to each heart how they are especially loved.  (OK, she lacks the blow-open-the Red-Sea power of God so occasionally even she hasn't been able to calm down a bicker battle- we do have our share of doozies).  Still, she seeks each of her grandkids out, to hug them deeply, to look into their eyes and ask them how they're doing and watch them share their drawings and lego creations and listen to their stories (even the forever long, plotless wolf stories:  "and then he... and then... and then...").   She gives joy, creates joy in a way that changes the tone of our kids' hearts and of our home.

As I reflected on our time with Grandma and the ever-steady blessing that Grandpa is in our lives too, the blur of memories, fun, gifts, candy, and laundry they left after their visit finally settled into seeing for me a few weeks after they headed back to the states.



Joy is a choice.  (Yea, I knew that before... but I see it better now.)  

And I want it like a solid ring on my finger, binding my heart and soul to a vow of holy, chosen joy.  I want this beautiful thing as the backbone of our home.  I want the miracle of joy in the midst of our crazy kid, messy mess.  I want it for us and for our kids and for the world around us to see the lighthearted freedom, the laugh at the days to come and laugh at this spilled-milk world, kind of joy living right here, with us.  

Tickle tackle in the living room...

...that ended with a stinky stink bomb out that little, red velvet back-side!

This isn't just a canned happy feeling, "ignorance is bliss" blindness,  and it's not a matter of random acts of kindness or loving yourself enough.   I won't have the strength or energy for this most days.  But I'm not the Source.  Joy is a gift of the Saving God, purchased for us with his own blood.  It's why He's commanded us to serve one another above ourselves ( Romans 12:10) so that He can bring it about.  Joy is the stuff of His heart and His kingdom.  

And joy isn't the first of His fruits...  it's listed second to love as the fruit of His Spirit.   I'm just thinking that where there is joy, where we're actually living out the Sunday School lesson-  Jesus, Others, Yourself-  that's going to be when we're living filled by and fueled with His love.  Joy shows us that Love is Here. 

For us this fall, there's been a heap of joy to be had and even the help of simply aiming for JOY as I've been learning to better pursue my kids individually.   This is what Grandma modeled so well.   I've had a slim vision for years that my job is to be the party planner and to plan for their joy.  Yes.  Plural joy is a celebration and I hope we're always ready for that.  Generally speaking, I think we've done ok on this part.  But to bring it home, bring it deep and singular, for just two of us at a time, personal, that's the joy I'm finding now.  

There's a small tribe of these treasures (only four) and yet even in their little plurality they can feel like an overwhelming majority to me.  But oh what joy to pursue my kids individually. Hugs and greetings in the morning, snuggles in the kitchen, hand holds and "thanks you-s" and listening long and "hows it going?"  I don't want to take for granted that these precious people live in my home!   I want to point them toward the joy of giving thanks to the Lord for our moments together, for the blessings and even the skinned knees and the hard lessons too.  I so want to treasure these moments here and now with these fast-growing, fast-changing, eternally exquisite lives.  

The Question Connection {a 2016 motherhood goal for me}

I remember being quite surprised by the quantity and consistency of the questions that one very dear friend, Sue, and her husband Rob, asked their children.  The kids picked up the blessing of asking each other too.  

"How was the test?  How did your song go?  Did you have a nice ride?  What was class like today?"

It's not as if I don't ask these things of my kids.  But I too often, with the rush of all of them and the reality of those spinning, ticking hands on the wall, I settle for lifeless one word answers when I should be hearing their living dreams, vivid fears, joys, sorrows in story form.  Somehow, Sue and her family had a better pattern of sharing and listening with their questions.   It was as if their thoughts and feelings and opinions and experiences mattered to each other.  And, yea, how could I not want to bring in more of exactly that into my home too?

Once, when Sue was at our place just before my kids headed off to art class, Isaiah moaned to me "I don't want to go to art class today."  I launched right into my own sad pattern of over-instructing/correcting/nagging, so well intended, so consistently poor.  "Buddy, come on, you love art class.  Just grab you're things together and you'll be glad you went once you get there."  

Sue followed me up with, a question.  "Why do you not want to go to art class today, Isaiah?"  He didn't need a major soul unpacking....  he just didn't want to go while her kids were at our house.  But her family was leaving then too, and that made sense to him, when she said it.  And it gave him a chance to express his feelings, it gave her a chance to hear him, encourage his real need, and have a much better connection with my son than I had just gained.  

I thought of Sue's questions again as I read an article that Ann V linked to, a post about childhood and parenting for Danes.   There's a handful of points in this post that I could mull over long.   One:  I am guilty of over-praising.  

"Research shows that kids who are always told they are smart are likely to give up easily when confronted with difficult tasks. They feel that due to their alleged smartness, they shouldn't have to work hard — trying hard makes them feel dumb, so they avoid it."  

Ouch.   

My kids' weakness here (quickly giving up when challenged and complaining about anything difficult) just might correspond perfectly with my weakness in overpraising them (and too, I know it also corresponds with that fallen nature of theirs ours.  And perhaps there's no connection whatsoever here... but our kids bicker nigh incessantly.  It is, hands down, 100%, the most painful, drive-me-crazy part of motherhood in this season for me.   It makes sense to me that kids expecting things to come easy for them and always, exactly, be just what they want and like best, that they would bicker whenever life, or any sibling or request given to them, crosses them.   

Elisabeth Elliot wrote (in The Shaping of a Christian Family) how her parents assured her of their love but never went crazy overboard praising her accomplishments.  Diligence and excellence were expected, they were acknowledged, and the children were loved.   The kids apparently expected that they wouldn't get everything easy and just like they like it.  

"Mother smiled, although she was not given to waxing very eloquent.  Daddy always said, "that's fine."  Those words were prize enough for me.  Our performance was not the result of relentless goading, or even the prospect of great rewards, but of the "steady pressure to be at our best," to do what was right."  (page 173)

So I'm aiming, in this new year, to correct my own poor pattern with not just different words, but questions to open up a better connection for me to hear from my kids.   And the questions I want to be building on are pointed.... laying out clear guidelines and expectations for my kids to see the blessing of hard choices for excellence and lasting joy over easy, limp wimpery, narcissism and laziness.  

"Hey dear, how are you feeling?  What have you read lately in God's word?  What do you need to do to obey God's word today?  What do you think might be a hard thing God gives you today to strengthen you?  How can I help you, encourage you, in this?  How can you trust God and go His way through that hard thing?"  

"What do you think you can do to love your siblings today, even when you don't want to?  What better joy do you think you could find today for choosing a hard way rather than an easy one?  How do you think you might have to go against what everyone else is doing, in order to do the most pleasing thing to the Lord?  What is the best joy you're after today and how are you going to get it?  What are you going to have to give up to get it?  How can we celebrate together, when you get there?"

"How do you think the Lord might want you to lay down what you want in order to better bless ____?  How can I help you do that?"

For Sue, when she asked Isaiah about the art class, there was no pansying about it...  She doesn't take the approach of "whatever you're feeling, that's true for you." Or "well, that's all you need to know."   Not at all.  But oh how much growth could come out of guiding my kids to see that 1-  your feelings matter and 2- let's see if they're based on truth, and 3-  how can you best respond to your feelings and express yourself or make the wisest choice to move forward from here?  

There were other pieces of the Danish post that zinged me too.  There are a heap of areas where parenting needs to improve on the K front.  I want to be careful to assess where we're at and intentional to aim for the best way forward, but my first priority for 2016 is still to focus my own heart on the Lord, in prayer, reliance, dependance, abiding in Him, rather than on lesser book methods and parenting/ psych. strategy, questions or comments....  

May the Lord build this house, these hearts, firm after Him, fruitful and bright for His glory.  

Our eyes look to You, Oh God.  Our eyes look to you.