Dog Days of Summer

By on August 1, 2011 in Uncategorized

The heat rolls in like a thunderstorm, leaving a blanket of haze and humidity. Excessive heat advisors blink across my computer screen. I cringe at another day of hiding from summer. When you have four kids and you live in a 1300 square foot townhouse and your husband sleeps during the day… it is difficult to find ways to entertain the troops without losing your mind.

For me, this summer has been about learning to play with my kids more and not worry so much about the messes, things left unaccomplished and how much noise we make. A few tips on surviving the heat without spending tons of money.

dancing children

Five {indoor} Ways to Play with Your Boys:
1. Gather the industrial size cookie sheets (we get ours at Sam’s Club), rice/beans/or whatever you can imagine to be “dirt”, favorite trucks and small construction vehicles and let them make a “contained” mess. Don’t worry about the rice that gets all over the floor… you needed to sweep anyways.

2. Fill the kitchen sink with dish soap, water and water safe toys…my boys love plastic measuring cups, spoons, medicine dispensers and more. Do not worry about that wet spot on the tile… you needed to scrub that anyways.

3. Gather the troops and head to the woods, creek or other shaded area. We love to catch crayfish, minnows and more at our favorite watering hole. Don’t worry about the mud and smell…you needed to do the laundry anyways.

4. Reserve the play room at your local library. (or McDonald’s, Chic-fil-A, Chuck E. Cheese, play area in the local mall)…the library is free and a great air conditioned option for a budget-conscious family. It also teaches little ones be respectful in public places.

5. Have a picnic, build a fort, or watch a movie… all gathered on the living room floor.

Some of the best summer afternoons are free, messy and loud.

What activities fill your summer days?

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Learning How to Play

By on July 1, 2011 in Uncategorized

I watch them dance in the waters. The boys are soaking wet and covered in mud. I snap my pics and keep my distance. For some reason they just seem to find this rhythm. It’s a beat that no one hums and no one hears, but they all dance to it. I keep taking my pictures. Their hollering my name and shouting, “Come see.” That’s when I realize that I’ve said, “Just one second” or “One more picture,” one time too many. I put the camera inside my hat and lay the package on the creek bank. And we just dance together. Crocs jumping across stones and water splashing high. We’re catching minnows and laughing real loud. At first I don’t even notice that we have an audience deep in the woods and a little off the trail a walker and her dog have found us playing. She laughs at our antics and I’m not the least bit embarrassed… not anymore.
playing creek

Somewhere in the midst of doing the laundry, cooking the meals, balancing the budget, being a wife and mother we can miss what it means to play. We can focus so much on getting the school work or homework finished, getting our children to their next activity and making sure that they get a well-rounded education that we become mini-van driving soccer moms who only sit on the sidelines cheering or organizing. We have forgotten how to play.

There are days when the deadlines loom and the writing needs edited so that my children see more of me in front of a computer screen and less of me is wrapped around their day in love:

I do not want my children to only remember how clean our house was…. because mom does not play.
I don’t want my children to only remember me typing away at a keyboard… because mom does not play.
I don’t want my children to only remember the back of my head as we raced to every activity… because mom does not play.
I don’t want my children to only remember me singing on a church platform…. because mom spends more time doing “God’s Work”.

Because I’ve forgotten that play is God’s work.

“So you’ll go out in joy,
you’ll be led into a whole and complete life.
The mountains and hills will lead the parade,
bursting with song.
All the trees of the forest will join the procession,
exuberant with applause.
No more thistles, but giant sequoias,
no more thornbushes, but stately pines—
Monuments to me, to God,
living and lasting evidence of God.”
Isaiah 55:12-13

When was the last time you turned everything off and just played with your children? with your husband?

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Parenting in the Storm

By on June 1, 2011 in adventure, Prayer

Making Camp
We drive into the forest and up the winding side of the mountain. Suddenly the sky is covered by a canopy of green and limb. We back our vehicle into a campsite. This is the tiny piece of state park we will call, “home,” for the weekend. I can feel the muscles relax as we set about the business of making camp.

In what seems to be record time the site is organized and the children are busy exploring the woods. It was in the midst of busy that I caught that Man of vows and year, I caught him looking my way and I could feel the smile. Muscles that feel unused stretch far across my face and the calm settles in around us. The fresh air is good. The work is good. Being together is good.

forestlight3
As he finishes hammering and tying the last pieces of tent to ground I hear a rumble in the distance and my mood shifts, sinking.  As the trees sway and the first little droplets start to drip the kids and I settle into the tent while Mr. Hubby stands guard under the eating shelter. The Forest Ranger pulls up to offer a storm warning and we prepare beneath the thin fabric to wait it out.

The Storm
The rain starts to pour drenching the ground and rushing water down the road. One of the kids starts to cry. My own fears begin to bubble. On the other side of the tent screen I can see Mr. Hubby’s concerned expression. His t-shirt has rain markings as he adjusts the ropes. Suddenly I feel a drop on my cheek. Brown-Eyed girl notices too and her eyes flood with tears. One of the boys is playing a game oblivious to the worry growing. Blue-eyed girl is quiet. Looking to my left I find her eyes focused upward, watching a few more drips drop and splash.

The storm continues to rage so I grab their hands. I ask them, “What did Jesus say to the storm?” Blue-Eyed Girl answers, “Take a Rest.” {I laugh} Brown-Eyed Girl giggles and offers, “Jesus told the storm to ‘Be Still’.” And we smile together knowing, that:

Even in the fear…God is here.
Even in the worry…God is here.
Even in our tears…God is here.
Even when we are alone and wet and battling it out…God is here.

I hold each of their tiny hands in my own and we begin to pray: asking for protection, peace and His calming. I ask that He would remind us that He controls the wind and the water. The fabric pitches and catches in the wind. Mr. Hubby checks the tarps and holds the ropes, adjusts the awning to allow the excess water to drain. {The stakes hold} And our God meets us there on the floor of a tent, as the storm rages around us.

Praying Over Our Children
I’ll be honest, praying over my children consistently and daily is where I sometimes struggle. It is difficult to be intentional in the time I spend praying for my family, that we spend in prayer together. This moment on the floor of the tent, as we pray together and as we sing songs of scripture together, I know we are learning as a family to seek first the kingdom of God. And I am grateful to have these little ones learning right beside me. I’m not too grownup to admit they teach me more than I teach them sometimes. It’s humbling. We are learning to lean into God when the storm starts to rage. He is the only one that holds constant.

I want them to know that Our God is the God of kept promises. Even when the humans around us disappoint, flail and fail miserably. Even when we as a family are forgetful or selfish. Our God keeps His promises. They hold firm. They stand the test of time and storm and doubt and fear. Our God is faithful to finish what He has started…

“When I walk into the thick of trouble, keep me alive in the angry turmoil. With one hand strike my foes, With your other hand save me. Finish what you started in me, God. Your love is eternal—don’t quit on me now.” {Psalm 138:7 The Message}

What prayers do you pray over your children?

 

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The Dysfunctional Alien that Stole My Family

By on May 2, 2011 in growing godly men, Life Lessons, Tough decisions, Uncategorized

A Broken Lesson
Tears race down her face and drip off her chin as we stand in the shadow of the courthouse. Her cheeks are blotchy and her makeup is smeared running like water colors mixing below her eyes. I can not begin to comfort the breaking. I can feel the lump growing in the back of my throat as I try not to lose it. A few people make their way past us their glances moving from face to face and then they quickly look at their shoes diverting their eyes. She keeps sobbing. I keep sighing inside, down deep.

How do you comfort a mother when her past decisions come rushing in around her and she’s facing the consequences? How do you comfort a mother who left her child alone, with no food, for days so she could get her next fix and chase after that man who said he loved her? How do you show love to a woman who locked her child in a closet and used duct tape to seal his mouth? What do you say to these tears, this pain, this mother and that child?

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” – F. Douglass

{the seeds of a weed}

That Dysfunctional Alien Thief
Perhaps it is an easy excuse to say that the closet, the tape and the hunger are what drove a man down that path so that his adult life was a broken shambles of bad choices and cycling pain, but even good families make poor choices, even stable parents stumble. I do not know one person who has walked into adulthood 100% whole, happy and loved. We all have an element of dysfunction whether we acknowledge it or not. The truth is that life is not about the dysfunction as much as what we do with it, what we allow God to heal and who stands in truth with us in the telling. Are we willing to be honest about our dysfunctional past and present long enough to allow God to redeem it?

I’ve watched children locked in cages step up and face life, taking God by the hand and soaring. I’ve also watched children loved, with every possession imaginable; live angry, rejected, and afraid. There are not enough Band-Aids to cover the wounds we inflict. It is not just cycles of poverty that destroy the spirit of a man. It is not just the cycles of abuse and blame that destroy the soul. It is the cycles of generational sin (that dysfunctional alien) that comes in many shapes and sizes that can destroy the heart of a family.

Where to Begin
Does this depress you? Do you wonder how you can help families that live like this, children that hunger this deep and parents so broken they do not realize all the damage they have done? Do you wonder about your own children and your choices? The decisions begin with us, in our own lives, with our children…in our homes as we live our lives for God. Perhaps it begins with honesty: honesty with God, honesty with ourselves. Parents should be fierce in protecting the hearts of their children. It begins at home. It begins with you. It starts with me. I am a strong believer that God can and will redeem anything we have done or that has been done to us. It all begins facedown before the throne of God because we can not teach or encourage or lead unless we are willing to face our own family aliens.

“If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.” Galatians 6:3 NIV

What family aliens are you allowing God to redeem?

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