From a Mama in the Stands

Last night our high school’s football team won a thrilling game in the state playoffs. As I was looking through my photos this morning, this one struck me: Our kicker standing alone on the sidelines with the field goal in the background. The score was 7-6. Our team was one point behind after our son’s point-after attempt bounced off the upright.

I took this picture as my Mama heart was in the stands watching, praying, and hoping. This is so often the role of a parent of an emerging adult--the hearts we have shepherded for so many years are now increasingly out of our reach in key moments as we are relegated to the audience, crowd, sideline, or stands.

It occurred to me last night that even if I had known the perfect encouraging words to say, I had no way to get them in my son’s ear. I was watching and hoping that the voices he COULD hear--coaches, teammates, and his own inner voice would suffice. The momentary feelings were strong and real, but there was a lot of game left to play. (Isn’t that a life metaphor that will preach?)

This moment of pulling away passed quickly. He told me later he just needed time to clear his head. I watched as he “reset” and coaches and teammates wandered over with supportive handshakes. He moved back into the pack and the team pulled through with strong play by so many kids. Our fella even had two more successful scoring attempts.

Ryland has had a terrific kicking season, and yet, there have been misses. As a kicker’s parent I have been reminded that life is quite the roller coaster if we allow the transitory drama of day-to-day circumstances to become our score of life.

Next week we will play another round and I will rejoice at the opportunity my young man is having to try, fail, succeed, learn, and grow. I will continue to pray for the voices speaking into his heart--especially in the times when mine is relegated to just one more of the crowd.

When Words Take Root

"He (Jesus) saw the potential in the lives of sinners. In Simon, He saw a rock. In Matthew, the publican, He saw a faithful disciple who would one day write one of the four Gospels..." -Warren Wiersbe

I have a house full of big personalities that illicit a wide range of emotions from their Mama--laughter, frustration, delight and a fair bit of cringing. When left unto itself, my mind races away with thoughts of what a child's future will look like if this or that weakness isn't reigned in. I have written many times about my temptation to parent from a place of fear rather than hope.

I want to be a wise steward of these little lives, but I also want to be like my Lord. Not leading anyone or anything impatiently or in a panic...but living and moving as an expression of faith. I loved this reminder that Jesus, Himself, was a seer of potential...focused on who people were to become moreso than where they were currently stuck.

During a recent session of purging my trio's backpacks I came across projects that gave me pause. Each of my 5th graders had completed a coat of arms assignment, researching colors and symbols to use in the design they felt best represented them.

The artwork was cute, but the attached explanations allowed a glimpse into their self image, values and aspirations that does not come frequently with tweens. As I savored these snapshots of who my 11 1/2  year olds are becoming, I pondered the implication of words spoken to them through this first decade+ of their lives.

To read what my kiddos state as their beliefs about their burgeoning identity left me awestruck. They were given a word bank of colors, symbols and their corresponding meaning, then free reign to express themselves. There was only one duplicate on their pages.

Here are a few excerpts of what they chose.

 P: "I chose a dove which represents trust in God, because I have faith in the Lord. I used silver because it represents peace."
"Gold represents generosity. I like to help people like our foster kids."
"I chose a globe because I love to travel the world."
"Green represents joy, hope & loyalty. I chose this because I'm usually happy and hopeful. For example, I hope our foster children will learn about God."

K: "I chose the Ichthus (Greek for fish)representing belief in Jesus. I thought this would be a good image to choose because I trust and love Jesus and God with all my heart."
I decided on blue for my background color. It represents truth and loyalty. I used this color because I always tell the truth and never tell a secret.
I chose thyme for my image. It represents courage and strength. I used this because I am brave when it comes to heights and ropes courses. I am also not scared of anything.
I chose gold because it means generosity. I share my stuff with my foster sisters."

R: "I picked the allerion because I trust God and He gives me strength. I chose white because I trust God and He helps me with my choices. I chose the anchor because I have a big belief in God and I love him from the bottom of my heart. I chose maroon because it means patient in battle and victorious. I chose this because I'm doing my best and having a comeback in school."

These are just excerpts. There were certainly humorous parts that reminded me these are children with lots of growing left to do...like the fact that R chose black for "constancy or grief because I am coming out of some hard times." (Concerned, I asked him what he was referring to and he flashed dimples and confessed he just thought black would look cool.)

But, typical 11 year old behavior considered, I was struck by the insight this project offered. Even while groaning at chores, attempting to sneak in a little extra screen time or practicing making body noise sounds that annoy, truth IS taking root in their hearts.

Exactly 4 hours before these beautiful, hope giving words came home I was confessing to my small group all the ways I feel like I am blowing it. I lamented that the business of life and ALL THESE CHILDREN was not allowing for the neat, picturesque moments I like to imagine my family having...

The evening Bible studies by the fire I aspire to as marks of a godly, together Mom are a stark contrast the wet haired children I am trying to coral into bed or the exhausted big kids splayed across the sofa watching replays of American Ninja Warrior.

But through the faithfulness of God and the countless adults God has placed in the lives of my children, Truth is taking deep root in their hearts.

As I read their assignments, I recognized some of the words their father and I have spoken over them--prayers we have prayed through the years. But their were other parts did not come from us, but from coaches, teachers, children's ministry volunteers, friends, family members--and oh, how God is weaving all of it together to form identity in their hearts! Truly breathtaking.

"A person becomes a person through other people." Desmond Tutu

This is the body. This is community. This is how lasting identity is formed. What a reminder to show up for other people's kids with well placed words and the investment of life on life! What an encouragement to stick with the rhythms of Bible study, church attendance and even Sunday afternoon lunch traditions with friends that have become family. These rituals form a framework where truth can be safely spoken and actively lived out.

Moment upon moment identity is being forged. Just as it is hard as a Mama to see just how much your children are growing in height, I think it can be equally challenging to see how their hearts are growing in depth. Every now and then we get these moments where we rub our eyes and go, "whoa." All of this investment of prayer and love and talking is adding up to something.

And here's the thing:  NOTHING IN THE ECONOMY OF GOD IS WASTED, even those real life moments! Squabbling siblings, ropes courses, family travel, grades that reflect not doing our best, the blending in of younger foster kids and the stretching and growth it requires? God is using it!!!

"It's an unbelievable experience to watch your kids become their own person. You know that all humanity has walked this way before, but for you and your child, it's all new. You are living the clichés, but now they are real and different."
- Sara Groves

This week I had the chance to sneak out of town for 24 hours of reconnection with dear old friends. I realized it is the same way in my adult heart. I have known these girls for more of my life than I haven't. Over 23 years we have experienced the highest of highs in joy, love and laughter and the lowest of lows in loss, pain and regret. Yet, even in our 40s, when we get together and share our hearts we remark to each other "My, how you have grown since I saw you last."

Nothing is wasted in the economy of God--not in a child's life and not in their Mama's.

So, today, Lord, lead us and guide us in having eyes to see and marvel all the ways You are at work. Give us words of hope, love and truth  and the courage and commitment to speak them. May we plant words that help each other grow into the people You have planned.

Decisions, Decisions

I had all sorts of random fears when I first learned I was carrying three babies. 

Would I ever sleep again?

Would people ever be able to tell them apart?

Would they speak in their own language & plot an uprising without my knowledge?

How on Earth would I manage alone time with each child?

Would this "trio" be able to find themselves as individuals outside of the group? 

So many of these fears weighed into early decisions like: 

Sharing a room or not (and for how long)

If/When to split them up at school

and even whether it was detrimental to dress them as a unit

There were so many opinions and a healthy amount of discussion surrounding each of these topics.

And like so much of parenting, my husband & I ultimately made decisions as they came and then we exhaled a prayer or 25 and went with it. Often we had to tweak and adjust, because life works that way. An important lesson in parenting was reinforced: There is no formula but to love hard, pray hard and be willing to recognize and follow through with necessary adjustments along the way.

As we enter these tween years, I do a lot more coaching that instructing--and that requires observation. I am loving the opportunity to watch and see how God is bringing things together in these young lives.

After a decade of investment, shoots of growth & fruit pop up at random times, like last night during our school's Open House. Each 4th grader made an "About Me" wheel that was displayed on the classroom walls with a visual representation of 8 things they enjoy. I marveled at 24 examples of my children's stories unfolding.

At 10 years old, she aspires to be a Veterinary Surgeon or a National Geographic Photographer "that hangs off cliffs." 

At 10 years old, his career goal is to be a video game maker or a dog trainer.

At 10 years old, he aspires to be a professional sports player.

I am documenting these for posterity's sake, because I know time will change the specifics, but the message to my heart is the same.

Take the role as parent seriously, but remember their story is ultimately being written by One far greater than you. 

Love. Pray. Breathe. Pay Attention. Marvel.

Because even though mine have shared a womb and a life they are each growing and bending and blooming in different ways under the direction of the master Gardener who continues to provide, nurture, and prune.

And so am I.

A Prayer for the First Day of School

K, P, & R,
Happy first day of fourth grade! This morning you dressed yourselves and made your own breakfast. You gathered your own backpacks and tied your own shoes. You reminded me about the traditional first day of school photo and we made it to school not only on time, but with a few minutes to spare.

I was there. I woke you up (and you groaned). I circulated with reminders and prompts. I offered a little extra height to reach the cereal bowls and brushed 2/3 of your hair because you still haven't quite grasped that grooming is a part of getting dressed. But you have essentially figured this elementary school thing out. There were no tears--from me or you. We have come a long way, babies!

And now I am home in an eerily quiet house. For the first time in three months I can sip a second cup of coffee with only the soundtrack of a humming refrigerator and the occasional thumping of the dog's tail on the hardwood floor...and of course, the tapping of my laptop's keys.

I need to do a lot of things, but first on my list was to sit for a while and think about what I hope and pray for you in this age and stage of life. The older I get the more complex this world seems, and yet the clearer my call feels. I have read plenty of parenting/womanhood/life checklists, but it always seems to come back to this:

May you love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind...and love your neighbor as you love yourself. 

I borrowed those words from Jesus and I offer them as your benediction.

Loving the Lord with all your heart means trusting Him with your hurt feelings and your greatest wants. I pray as you grow, you will want Him first and above all else. When your heart seeks approval from your peers, your teachers and even from me and your Dad, I pray you will remember you are ALREADY approved in Him. Lean into Him. Allow Him to shower you with His love.

Loving with your soul is about the deepest places, loving Him with who you are. At ten, we are only beginning to discover your talents and unique gifting, but some are becoming apparent. I urge you to love Him with your leadership, R, your energy, K, and your sensitivity, P.

Loving Him with your mind, means being diligent about what is being allowed into your brain, what thoughts you allow to take root. It also involves applying yourself at school. God has gifted you each with different kinds of intelligence. My problem solver/strategist, my creative and my curious, I pray you will give those minds back to Him. May you see school as a place those gifts are being nurtured and refined for your good and His Glory. This is not about all As, it is about being engaged and interested. Education is a gift and a journey to further equip you for the call on your lives.

Loving your neighbor as yourself is a tall order, but when we begin to grasp how He loves us, it all makes a bit more sense. Your classmates, your teachers and those younger students who are looking up to you are dearly loved by God. Part of loving Him is loving them...especially, when we don't feel like it. Look out for who needs a friend. Be respectful of and grateful for the teachers and school staff who are giving their lives to your care. Forgive those who are hurtful or rude--you have no idea what may be going on in their lives.

If you are ever in doubt how to respond in any situation, I pray you will ask yourself one question: what is the loving thing to do?

I hope this list doesn't make you feel overwhelmed. It is a lifelong journey I am still on at 39...and why I know I need Him. I am praying for you. God has plans for your lives--not just one day when you 'grow up,' but right now in the thick of elementary school.

I love you dearly and am so grateful for the front row seat to what He is doing in and through your lives.

So, go forth, laugh, play, discover, fall, fail, forgive, learn, grow...and may you do it all with love.

Notes from Camp

Last month, BEFORE my people had taken off, I wrote a hopeful post about the positive points of Summer camping. Now that we are right smack in the middle of the adventure, I thought it would be appropriate to make some notes from the field.

1. Individual attention is beautiful--and sometimes makes them more grateful for their siblings.

While my husband and I have relished the rotation of 1-on-1 and 2-on-1 time that different camp weeks have allowed, at least one of our children has found all of our individual attention a bit much. One day, as we took P out on a lunch date he said, "Could you please stop staring at me and asking me all these questions?" He was overjoyed when we got a sitter to go out on a date one night and gave him a break. 

P and I even got a fun overnight road trip together when we journeyed to pick R up from North Carolina. I loved the sweet conversations with my introvert who so often gets drowned out by the more verbal members of our family. 

When R got in the car they were squabbling within a few minutes. Through a crooked grin P said, "I'm so glad he's back. I've been bored out of my skull."

2. While family is a beautiful foundation, our kids need a chance to be known beyond just that. 

One of the things I adore about small town living is how 'known' you can feel. The old Southern stereotype of "how's your mama?" is true. I enjoy knowing more about a person's roots--the dynamic they are coming from--but for an increasingly independent child (and maybe specifically a triplet), making your own way can be difficult to accomplish.

We intentionally chose camps for our boys that are not 'popular' among people from our town. While it has been a bit more of a leap of faith to drop them off with 'strangers,' I think it has been to their benefit. They didn't have the pull (or the comfort) of a group they've long known. They were stretched--and as children so often do--rose to the occasion and made new friends.  

Apparently, this included not talking about us much. When P & I arrived to get R his counselors were surprised. "He never mentioned any siblings." 

3. Pray a lot about the balance of 'preparing the road versus preparing the child.'

This is not really specific to camp, but I've been reminded of this phrase a lot during this experience. As our children age we simply cannot be everywhere as their apologist or their specialist outlining operating instructions. I am so guilty of this! I have made it my mission to become an expert in my people. As a result, I want to share that knowledge with everyone they come in contact with--to make sure they get maximum enjoyment/performance from my children. (Yes, I gulped when I typed that. But it is true.)

This comes from a good place. I've learned a lot about their temperament, challenges and strengths from experience. Wouldn't offering a cliff notes version be helpful to everyone? While there are places where this is important, I received some very wise advice to really pray over when and where to intervene in this way. My children must learn to adapt to this world because it is unrealistic to think it is always going to adapt to them.

My husband and I agreed: one paragraph. That's all I got to write on their camp forms. One paragraph to sum up 10 years of expertise in my people. The rest would work itself out. And guess what? It did.

4. Make sure to give their camp address to people in their life. I have absolutely loved opening up those smelly trunks full of dirty clothes to find card and letters from neighbors, friends and grandparents. I know my children probably don't fully appreciate the gift, but I am sure they felt loved. 

Handwritten letters are a dying art in today's world--camp is a perfect excuse for the tradition to be resurrected. These small notes of encouraging words and individual attention spoke care and concern to my people. Isn't that the real beauty of a handwritten note? Each crumpled note shouted, "I thought enough of you to pause my day, find a card, envelope, pen and stamp, and take a moment to write." 

At all three of my children's camps mail is delivered during the one hour rest period. I loved the thought of them lying on their bunks being poured into by little notes. Admittedly, I am a 'words' girl, but there are not many other occasions in a 10 year olds life when they can be pulled away from screens and siblings and just receive this kind of special attention.

5. Don't expect letters in return. I got two letters from P during his nine days away. K has been gone six days and I have received one. Shortly after picked R up from his week he announced, "I never wrote any letters because I played poker every day during rest time. It's a fun game. Want me to teach you?" 

Well, there you go.  

One more week away for my girl before all the birdies are back in the nest--and the ones who are home have already started talking about next year. 

An Arbitrary Recap of Pieces of May

Life in a family accelerates to warp speed in the month of May. As a result, all kinds of things happened that never rose to the level of having their own blog post. Since this is my children's only semblance of a scrapbook, please pardon me while I recap a few things:

1. My R, who is showing a lot of interest in music these days, performed in a cello concert earlier this month without removing his camo sunglasses. We were indoors in a gorgeous chapel. He was out of my reach and never chose to make eye contact...so I watched in wonder. Strong willed little future rock star?

2. My K is showing interest (and talent) in photography. She borrowed my camera for a bit recently and returned with several cool shots--including this one of our sweet Haley dog.

She's so comfortable in front of the camera, it is interesting to watch her transition to behind it. :-)

3. P is blossoming into a much more confident (and active) fella--and it is fun to watch. His introversion and sedentary nature is still dominant--it is the way he's wired. But I am happy to see him showing more interest in being outdoors some as well.

Dropping him off at sleepaway camp for NINE DAYS was a source of anxious anticipation for me for months but he truly seemed to show signs of readiness right before my very eyes in the 7-10 days before he left. There is SO much to be said for leaving room for our children to rise to the occasion. 

It was a true answer to prayer for this Mama (and his Daddy too.)

4.  These two really are pea and carrots. So sweet!

I can't help but think they will marry people with personalities that mirror each other. Only time will tell. 

5. Having 20 boys over for a Nerf birthday party in our backyard was epic...but at 5'2" I had ZERO control or voice. Many of these 9-10 year old boys are my height already--and they definitely are louder! Daddy took over leading the games and it was a testosterone fest to be long remembered!

6. Our 'girl party,' a photo scavenger hunt downtown, was also an active, memorable hit.

 The greatest souvenir for us, were some hilarious pictures of K's friends being their silly, sweet selves. 

7. iphones don't fare well in washing machines..especially when they go through the spin cycle.

And there you have it, a totally random wrap up of loose ends--a pretty accurate depiction of my Summer brain!

Parenting in the Now and for Eternity

If P is my Walter Mitty, R is my Alex P. Keaton. He prefers leather driving mocs to crocs and hasn't worn a pair of jeans since he was four.

His intensity extends far beyond such surface examples. Passionate, verbal, competitive and very strong willed, R has a lot to say about a lot of subjects. He's constantly sharing his thoughts, plans and ideas--with loads of confidence and leadership.



God can surely one day use these traits to accomplish major things for the kingdom, but navigating all this in a 3rd grader's body with not-quite ten year old maturity can be very frustrating to my boy and incredibly taxing on a Mama.

I've been told I was a lot like my dimpled, verbose son as a child--which may be why, in weak moments, I find myself reverting to that version of me to go toe-to-toe with my boy. (That never ends well, by the way.)

I know God is writing his story--and by virtue of the human condition, it will not be one of perfection. His path, like mine will be marked by bumps, bruises and the occasional battle scar from this broken world. 

Honestly, I think I fight so hard for him because I have many of those wounds--from being blinded by passion, saying too much at the wrong time, pushing too hard and/or failing to humble myself to the leadership of others.

I want to spare my son the very experiences that God used to sanctify me and make me who I am. As much as I adore this child, I have to remember he was God's idea. There is a plan for his life.

And I am afraid.

I fear he won't learn to bridle that tongue, control that hot temper, cool some of his fire. It frightens me to think of the implications on his relationships. The brokenness that will precede the healing.

It all boils down to a faith issue for me...am I going to trust the Creator of this little person or cave to my fear?

If I allow myself to start down that slippery slope of 'what ifs,' I write into the story future chapters I am afraid of, instead of allowing The Author write it. When I snatch the pen from God's hand and fast forward several years to teens or adulthood, I forget that RIGHT NOW there is a ten year old standing in front of me. I have no idea what twists and turns God will use to draw my children unto Himself. I cannot rush ahead. I must be here.

Fear rarely leads to good decisions--and is an ineffective partner in parenting. 

I have a responsibility to my boy--and that is to see him right now, love him right here, guide him as God reveals--and finding my heart sanctified in the process.  

Our souls are far more important to the Lord than my pride. 

This doesn't mean an absence of discipline, but it does mean a change in perspective. Exhaling the fear and breathing in faith...Parenting in the now and for eternity.

This journey is not for sissies.

Listening to Little Love Languages

I fancy myself a bit of an amateur sociologist. Fascinated by people and what makes them tick, I have attempted to be a student of my children. Who are they? What's God up to in those little hearts? What do they need from me?

We've talked about things like "love tanks." I've asked them questions about how I can love them best--and predictably, as children, sometimes they've been better able to express their true needs than others. I am quite sure they wouldn't been able to articulate their love languages with words--but they are becoming quite clear at age almost-ten.

It was very apparent this morning at Muffins for Moms. As I read the letters they had written me and the "coupon books" each Third Grader was encouraged to make it became undeniable how uniquely each of my trio give and receive love.

My girl is undoubtedly acts of service. Her coupons were tasks that might lighten my workload: making my bed, laundry, dishes, car wash, breakfast in bed. Even her letter was complimentary of the things I do.

My introverted P's letter screamed of his love for physical touch and words of affirmation. His offers were snuggles, back scratches, kisses and hugs. All marked by little hearts and scrawls of  "I love you, Mom." And seriously, this beautifully written cursive letter melted my heart.

And, man oh man, is R a quality time guy. He feels love through play. His letter was about places we've been together, the photos he selected were from adventures we've taken and his coupons were all other experiences we can share: putt putt, bowling, go karting. (I asked if he intended to pay :-)

As I surveyed my stack a wide grin spread across my face. This is the way they seek to express love to me because it is what speaks love to their little hearts.

And it is most definitely not a formula. They shared seven months in a womb...but their love languages are as different as their appearances.

Thank you, Lord, for these glimpses and sign posts along the way...While so much of this parenting journey is mysterious, your guiding hand that is present and trustworthy. May we be found faithful in keeping our eyes and ears open.

Even if they they don't realize it, our kids are telling us who they are and what they need all the time--we just have to learn to SLOW DOWN, listen and pay attention.

Hard Lessons from My Strong(est) Willed Child

Lately I have been feeling especially exasperated by the power struggle with my strong(est) willed child.

Tonight even as I tucked him in for the night, there was a minor tiff. I left his room with a huge sigh--feeling frustrated that I can't seem to reach his heart much these days. I went to my husband and we talked through some things. As I started to head back downstairs, I paused in his doorway to take in the sight of my beautiful sleeping boy.

I crawled in his bed and lay next to him to listen to him breathe--and to pray for God to stop the cycle where he & I are stuck. 

As I laid there in the dark, not butting heads but simply taking him in, I remembered him as a little boy of 4...with pudgy fingers (that he sucked) and chunky legs he'd wrap around me. It seemed as if God started transforming my perspective on the spot--whispering to my heart:

Jennifer, 

I did not give you this boy as a wild stallion to be broken.

Your child is not something broken to be fixed.

No, this is your son, to be loved.

Love him. 

And as my defenses were melted away, I realized that God is actually using that intense, passionate, verbal, opinionated, bright little man to break the wild stallion in me...to remind me of the broken parts of my heart He has used decades of sanctification to lovingly piece back together. I am reminded that my Heavenly Father is abundantly patient with me.

I am to do the same with my fella that is testing the muscles of his own will--and trying to learn to fly. He's not quite ten. We have a lot of years together. I don't want to be so busy 'weeding' I forget to sow seeds. I want home to be a place of acceptance, not just improvement. 

Lord, I pray tomorrow--when he's awake--that I remember the sweet lesson from the peace of tonight. There's not a parenting book in the world that can trump Your example and Your Word: 

Love.

I adore my boy. I wouldn't fight so hard for him if he weren't so important to me. But 'fighting' is the wrong verb. May I lay down my weapons and open up my arms to love. 

"We love because he first loved us." I John 4:19

The Sweetest Gift

I vaguely remember receiving the plush musical toy as a shower gift 10 years ago. It was from my aunt and teenaged niece--attached to another gift I don't specifically recall. The sun/flower with an Eric Carle-type caterpillar attached was set aside with other toys.

Hospitalized bedrest came, tiny babies were ushered into the world quite dramatically and then tucked away in the NICU for several weeks. When our wee little ones came home, wrapped as burritos with monitors and wires, days and nights were a blur of joy, diapers, bottles and sleeplessness.

Somewhere in the Fall of 2004, the fog began to lift and my then 5-6 month old babes started to 'attach' to special toys. My tempermental R seemed to find soothing in the sweet melody from that sunshiny/flower (we still weren't quite sure which it was designed to be).

As our babies turned into toddlers, the bond between my R and "Sunny" was solidified. He didn't have a special blanket or pacifier. Sunny was it!

For the last 9 years, Sunny (AKA Sun-Sun) was a very good friend. A scary night-time awakening was frequently saved by locating him under the covers and pulling the caterpillar string that caused the music to play. I remember smiling as I heard the melody over the baby monitor when R grew a bit older and began to learn to soothe himself.

Even as my 'tough guy' has grown, Sunny has remained. Each morning when R makes his bed, Sunny assumes his place under the covers, at R's feet where he likes to sleep. (Oh the years I spent searching for him in the tangled sheets during particularly restless nights!)

A couple of months ago after a visit with our precious family friend/former sitter, Annie, and her new baby, R announced, "I think I want to give Sunny to baby Hudson."

We took a few weeks to ponder the idea. I put Sunny in a drawer to make sure we were ready. Occasionally I would find that he had made his way from my drawer back into R's bed. I wondered if the time had in fact come--or not.

And then today as we were preparing to go and meet Annie & Hudson for ice cream after school R cheerfully reminded me, "Don't forget Sunny!"

The handoff was adorable. My R is a man of purpose and he handled this like a champ.
 It seemed so sweet, so right.

And my heart was at peace, too. And then a couple of hours ago I got this from Annie. Sunny assuming the position in his new home, with a little boy the same age my R was when he fell in love with him.

New home 2014 (with Hudson)

Old home 2007 (with R)

A torch (or sun if you will) has been passed in the tenderest way.

Time marches on.

Training Our Kids to Own It

Every now and then, usually over dinner, my husband & I go through a few role play exercises with our children. The kids think of it as a game, which makes it a far less intimidating way to talk to them about tougher topics.

A couple of nights ago we went through scenarios ranging from 'stranger danger' to gun safety and good ole fashioned peer pressure. Lest you think this more complicated than it is, we simply give each child a question or two like this: 

"K, you are at a friend's house and they put in a PG-13 movie. What would you do?"

"R, your friend tells you he wants to show you his Dad's cool new gun..."

We started to notice a trend in their responses that gave me pause. R, our justice seeking rule follower, would frequently answer, "My parents don't allow me to..."

Because we were role playing and I was the temptress, I would retort with real taunts he might encounter like "well, your parents aren't here now," or "they'll never know. " Once I even mocked him with "oh, aren't you a good boy listening to your parents?"  

It occurred to me that my 9 year olds are reaching an age where it's no longer just what their parents say that should be dictating their responses. Yes, of course, we are helping him establish a concrete foundation of morality, safety and wisdom...but at some point he (and our other children) have to begin to own it themselves. I confess I especially worry about R in this regard because he is wired to be very socially motivated.

When the pressure is on, especially as R ages, I know that our beliefs won't be enough to sustain him. It will be important that his moral code is firmly rooted & established in truth. He must learn to draw upon the Lord's strength and wisdom. But there are a lot of temptations in the process. 

It is empowering to be prepared. So, for now, we've started working on other retorts.

No thanks, I'm not interested.
I don’t want that scary/yucky stuff in my brain.
I don’t think that’s wise.
I'd rather...
I’d feel more comfortable if... 

I have worked in youth ministry for two decades. I know there will be moments of temptation for which we cannot fully prepare. Our Enemy is cunning. The battle of the flesh and the spirit is old as time. People (I started to type kids and corrected it :-)) make poor choices. Yet, all of these things make me more, not less, committed to the battle.

So we are talking to our kids, praying to their Creator and buckling up for the ride. 

Why can't they stay little?

 

*Thanks to my father-in-law for these great vacation photos that fit the post perfectly. Well, except that I'm in a swimsuit :-)

On the Ropes

If ever there were a metaphor for parenting, our experience Tuesday on the ropes course fits the bill. Three little adventurers, traversing obstacles before my very eyes--while I was only able to watch, pray and shout encouragement.

 

The ropes are not my favorite thing. I will do them, but since my husband relishes the opportunity for adventure with our kids, I chose to stay on the ground and watch/photograph/encourage.

There were so many lessons as I watched each of them handle various challenges with different responses. My K found a group of high school/college girls and seemed emboldened by being with them.

At each intersection she asked the ropes worker which path was more difficult--then she took it!

When she came to the zip line at the conclusion, she purposefully attempted to go upside down--just for the thrill.

  The boys were in the group after her. They moved through with far more bravery that I have--and each encountered a little trouble once along the way. Although they took the same path, their struggles were in completely different areas--and their responses were wildly different as well.

 

When R was fearful he lashed out in anger. Even as my husband was making his way over to help get him back on track, R was yelling angrily (and irrationally) at him. It was his choice to take on the course--yet when he ran into trouble, his default was to blame the very one who loves him most and was in a position to rescue him. It's a tale as old as time about our response to those we love--and the One who loves us. Why do we do this?

Once he was back on track he reasserted his independence and even jumped off the zipline with courage and boldness.

 

P handled his adventure yet another way. When he got stuck it was because his foot slipped. Once seated on the wire, he realized he was simply too tired to pull himself back up. Frustrated, exhausted tears ensued that attracted quite a crowd at camp. (Things tend to echo here in the mountain valley.)

 

As my husband made his way to him to provide a little lift two dozen high school kids started chanting P's name. Although it warmed this mama's heart, it did little to help P. Despite their chants, he was still stuck and in need of a rescuer with strength beyond his own.

 

When they reached the final leg, P chose to stick close to his Dad. With renewed courage he jumped and shouted with joy at having completed this trial.

It was awesome to watch Young Life leader's take this same approach with their frightened high school friends. As they offered companionship, encouragement and help I appreciated the role they play even in the every day life of these teenagers.

 

 

As my little group reached the end they exchanged high fives and excitedly swapped stories of their adventure--reveling in their accomplishment despite overcoming obstacles. Life, like this course, is fraught with obstacles, challenges and moments of exhilaration that we face and respond to differently. May we finish well with stories to tell of our journey!

26 Sentences: The Blessing of Heart Focused Discipline

Much like his Mama, two of the strongest aspects of my R's personality are his passion and his verbal skills. I learned a long time ago that every strength overdone becomes a weakness. So much of growing up involves learning to manage our gifts.

 

I also learned with this particular little person that trying to talk things out in the heat of the moment tends to escalate the situation. A few months ago sentence writing became my disciplinary choice for his disrespectful outbursts. I usually write the Bible verses and/or sentences for him to copy...reminders not just of behavior modifications, but of his identity and God's ability. This afternoon I tasked him with writing his own sentences.

 

The result is perhaps the greatest glimpse into the developing theology of a 9 year old boy I could expect to get. (I have translated below the photo.)

 

1. I will not argue.
2. I won't talk back.
3. I love God and he loves me back.
4. I must not yell.
5. I must not argue.
6. Follow your parents.
7. Follow your dreams if they lead to good deeds.
8. Say things that are good not bad.
9. You are a good kid.
10. Your parents know what's right.
11. I am a child of God.
12. Follow God things instead of Satan.
13. You are loved.
14. You have a good life, don't make it bad.
15. Use your self control when you need it.
16. You have a plan to follow God.
17. God has a plan for you.
18. I am a God follower.
19. God is my Father.
20. You are never alone God is with you.
21. God is watching.
22. You can do anything through God.
23. God must be my master.
24. I am a son of God.
25. God has big plans for me.    (and the final one he added as a bonus... ;-)
26. God has a plan. His plan shall not perish or you will not go to a happy life.

There is SO much I could write...but the bottom line is this:  Truth is being planted in his heart...even though his actions don't always seem to reflect it. I can totally relate.

The beauty of godly, heart focused discipline is that I felt closer to my son after this experience than I would have had I chosen to simply ignore his behavior. And I was blessed by the reminder that the Lord is actively working in our hearts and lives!

From the Mouths of Babes (Summer Camp Edition)

We dropped our curly girl off at camp Sunday morning.

It's only been 36 hours, but some sweet memorable comments have been made. The night before she left, K said to me, "The first thing I need to do when I get to camp is find a funny friend who can make me laugh the way P does."
And it melted my heart.

While the only thing R has said about her is that he misses having "a real competitor in MarioKart" this hastily written letter reveals a little more sweetness underneath.

Translation:

"Violets are red,

roses are blue,

grass is green

so we miss you

because you are the sunshine of our family."

Absence seems to indeed make the heart grow fonder. I hope all this love continues when she gets home. :-)

And while this has absolutely nothing to do with camp, it's too amusing not to share. Over lunch Sunday P made this face.

As my husband & I giggled we asked how he learned to do that. He replied (completely seriously), "It's my gift. God gave Tommy the gift of being able to play the piano by ear and He gave me the gift of being able to do THIS."

Glory to God indeed. :)