Balancing Life and Controlling our circumstances is not even Biblical!

Measure Up

Last month, I was with a group of young women speaking at a small group Bible study. At the question and answer time, so many wanted me to give them a formula to assure them that they were doing all of the right things to be sure their children would turn out ok.

I also realized that because I made it to 60 and I am still alive, my kids made it through their years into adulthood with faith in tact, with vision for life, and still loved us, that somehow, I must have "done all the right things" or perhaps was more in control of my life.

Reality is I have never been in control and there were never formulas I could count on. Each child was extremely different. Each year was a new kind of stretch to my life, I always had challenges and kept looking for the time when life would settle down.

Expecting to be able to control life, children, husbands, friends, church, family is a road that leads to disappointment. We cannot make life behave by just trying harder or getting the right book, planner or instruction. Truth is, God wants us to rest, to leave our burdens in His hands, to learn a little more every day, how to walk by faith, love and become more patient, work hard and enjoy our days that He has given. As I thought about these things, I remembered an article I wrote some years ago, right in the middle of the "messiness of life" that I hope will encourage you.

Happy Weekend! Happy Friday! Enjoy your days.

Seems I have never reached that magical point where my life is quiet, peaceful, slow, with all the details in my life organized. There are more balls in the air now than when our family was much younger!

Today as I was whizzing in the car to Kohl's (afterall, I had a 30% coupon in my hot little hand) looking for jeans and a couple of things that Joy needed, all the while keeping in mind that she has a meeting I have to drive her to in an hour.

Also knowing that I have to pick up some medication for the sinus infection I have developed with an internal ear infection (going on since Michigan--five weeks ago) and have an appointment with friends to pray at 5 and then pick Joy up from her meeting, and then go back to Walmart for the things she will need while I am gone;

and then to a cooking class with Sarah and Joy-- we signed up for a while ago, and then meeting friends who are flying in from out of town at their hotel at 9; finish packing and then leave for the airport with Clay and Sarah at 7:30 in the morning,

and I think--my life is not in balance--but I can still walk with God, have joy, enjoy my minutes and the ones in my life at each moment, and make it through one minute at a time.

My home is not in balance--I know that when we fly to 5 cities in 7 weeks, to host mom conferences,  that my house will get messier than usual and need a good cleaning when I get home. I understand that if I am going to be faithful to schooling when I am home and making meals and having quiet times in between all the prep for conferences--that things will pile up and go by the way side--but I also know I have a plan for getting it all together when I get home.

I know it will take all of us a few days just to sleep enough to have the energy to clean and straighten up--but I know that we will get to it and I will feel good about my home again.

I liked what a friend said to me, "The swinging hand on a clock is only in balance at one point while the fulcrum swings back and forth between the two sides."

And so my life goes--in perfect balance, rarely, once in a while--but always swinging between the two tensions.

My life wasn't in balance when I had 3 children under 5 and I had to nurse them and deal with ear infections and asthma.

My life wasn't in balance very often amidst the 17 moves--6 times internationally--seemed often I was packing or unpacking--

My life wasn't in balance when I had 3 teenagers and an elementary aged child who just wanted to play and read picture books,  while we were staying up late with our teens talking about all sorts of serious issues in life, and then getting up early with my wee, little fun one-with dark circles under my eyes.

And all the while these in my home wanted to eat, (which meant shopping, cooking and an endless stream of dishes) and wear relatively clean clothes and messes abounded--always cleaning and messing--straightening and cluttering. No balance but a lot of life and fun and discussions and work and corrections--a stream of life never ending, but flowing to yet another new challenge and season of life.

I think I would have been so much more content and joyful if I had just known at the beginning that life for me would not be balanced--but could always be meaningful--if I would just accept the limitations of each day, each season, each child, my marriage and my finances--none totally balance, perfect--but all a blessing--so that is what was going through my mind today as I was whizzing about.

I don't think scripture promises balance--Jesus's life was not balanced--he always had people chasing after him and someone was always criticizing him amidst the feeding of 5 thousands, healing lepers and forgiving prostitutes, holding children and blessing them and saying scathing things to the Pharisees--

Paul's life was certainly not balanced--even keeled--amidst prison, ship wrecks, beatings, and teachings. Peter was traveling, teaching, being persecuted--yet all of these had joy, full hearts, love and time to reach out to and teach others.

So, I was contemplating today--that if I would just see this day and all that my puzzle brings as God's will, I would be content, joyful and enjoy rest in the moments of my days.

Off to pick up Joy!

PS Thanks for all the letters for you who are enjoying my newest book, Own Your Life. I hope it will encourage you to live well right where you are, to accept the limitations of your life, to enjoy the days you are given and to give yourself grace in the midst

Buy HERE. 

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Remember! Someone is Always Listening and Watching....

Weariness did not even begin to define the bone-deep exhaustion I was feeling. Lifting the weight of my body off of my bed in the mornings felt like an impossible task. Three hormonal teenagers,  a budding 8 year old, Clay with a ruptured disc that caused him excruciating pain with each step; a book deadline; a daughter in and out of the hospital being tested for a brain tumor and my mom falling and breaking her hip were just a few of the issues that occupied my thoughts each day.

Resentment was exploding inside my brain.

"No one appreciates all that I am doing to keep this family together. Cooking, washing, teaching, caring for everyone, running them to appointments, lessons, doctors and listening beyond midnight to teens pouring out their angst," and I mounted up the lists of my depleting responsibilities in my mind.

This fueled my frustration with Clay, laying next to me in bed, and seeming not to notice my burdens.

The sun was just beginning to peak through the crack in the window curtain reminding me that there was little time left to sleep.

I was "willing" Clay "evil, selfish thoughts"  inside my heart--(hoping somehow he could feel the grimace inside my heart), when the Holy Spirit gently nudged my conscience.

"He needs you to encourage him. He is so discouraged because of bills, pain, and the insecurities of life all around him."

"Really, Lord? I am the one needing encouragement!"

But slowly, willing, no, forcing my arm reach over to him and gently scratching his back, I  confided,

"I just want you to know that I really love you and respect how bravely you have born your ruptured disc.  I know you are in such pain every day, but I am praying for you," I softly whispered, in sheer obedience to God.

Quietly, almost imperceptible, he responded,

"I am so relieved. You have every right to be mad at me.  I thought you were disappointed in me for not paying attention to you or taking care of you. But I have been so down about the overwhelming issues in our lives and constantly in pain, and I have not meant to neglect you--there is just so much. Thank you for being patient with me. I really appreciate you and love you."

And he reached over and gently embraced me before crawling out of bed, grimacing pain painted on his face.

I turned over and slowly slipped out of bed, donned my soft, well worn robe and padded quietly toward the kitchen for my first cup of caffeine.

As I approached the door of my bedroom, I saw my  little one laying quietly on our bedroom floor, cuddled in a comforter and staring up thoughtfully from a soft pillow.

"Mama, I was sleeping here because I had a real bad dream, but I knew you were so tired I didn't want to wake you up. But I heard you and Daddy talking. It made me feel happy to hear you all comforting each other and saying, 'I love you.' I want a marriage just like you when I grow up---where my wife and I love each together and are partners in life. That would be so much fun to live with your best friend."

I didn't know anyone was there. I am so glad I didn't lash out from my own feelings of frustration. I realized you just never know when your children are listening or watching or in what moments they are shaping their view of marriage, of life.

Did God Make a Mistake? Or Create A New Melody?

A message from Nathan, a poem he wrote and asked me to share

After having two precious little ones, I wanted another. I prayed and asked God to bless our little clan with one more. In the middle of the night, after just 40 minutes of labor, my little boy started to arrive and the doctor was not even in the room. He made a fast entry, and the doctor "caught" him just in time, after I had held my contractions in long enough for him to prep for the birth at the Long Beach Hospital.

Nathan John, "beloved, blessed by God" is what his name signified. We believed him to be a special gift and asked God to bless according to His loving-kindness and to validate the name we had chosen for him.

His issues started early. At night, I would sing to him, try to soothe him, rocking, standing, walking, everything I could imagine. But little Nathan would arch his back, flail his little fists at me and scream and cry for hours on end. My mother heart longed to comfort him, but my physical self became exhausted. Still this little boy charmed my heart in so many ways.

"You are blessed and beloved by God, my sweet boy," I would whisper in his ear as I walked him for hours on end.

It started early. At bedtime, he could not go to sleep if he did not remember me doing the "exact" routine that we repeated every night. "Please, please pray again, mama! I can't go to sleep if I don't remember the prayer."

And so I would think, "Is this manipulation or a real need?" Such a simple request to fulfill for bringing peace to the night.

That was just the beginning of puzzling situations.

Fast forward through the years, I was often perplexed at Nathan's behavior. Sometimes he was the most charming little guy ever born, and other times he would throw a tantrum, scream, ask for me to do something I had already done, one more time. Or he would repeat things one more time. His moods varied.

I had never heard of OCD, or studied dyslexia or known about any educational or mental issues.

"You just need to spank him more! He has obviously not been disciplined enough!" my well-meaning friends, whose children fit "in the box" would often say to me.

Yet, I could see that as I softly tickled his little back while doing math, he was able to concentrate more. He was so very bright in telling stories, in making creative worlds. He was a pied piper and always attracted children to our home. He gave me sweet, "I love you, mama!" notes. He led gangs of friends around our yard with obstacle courses he had designed, wrote long stories, (even though he could not spell),  acted out being a hero and saving people.

Spanking him more just did not seem right to me, as I could see he had a heart to respond, but sometimes obeying seemed beyond his ability. And I could see his heart--a big heart with lots of love, ideals, and ideas.

Always, I whispered forward into his little ears, "You were prayed for and you are my special blessed and beloved by God boy. I can't wait to see the story your life will tell. You will be a hero in your generation."

Fast forward through years of mystery, drama, difficulties, complications, and hours and hours of praying out to God to understand and find answers to help his life be easier. Finally, I began to read and find out possibilities of what might be going on in his little mind. But I wish I had understood and known more from the beginning.

I can member right as Nathan was entering adolescence at around 13, OCD reared its ugly head in Nathan's life even more and Nathan began to experience the darkness that came with it, feeling plagued daily, and hourly, with obsessive thoughts about being dirty, and continued contamination, to the point that he didn't want anyone to touch him, and would have to take 3 to 4 showers a day and (like he says in the video) would wash his hands until they bled, just so his young mind could have momentary respite from the never ending, and unwanted thoughts.

Many of our days were quite grim. Nathan wanted me to write about this so that others could know we found the grace of God to be amidst the dark passages of his life, but the lessons were learned slowly--and for me through many years of putting one foot in front of the other, trying to understand.

When I speak of owning your life, and wrote about it, a part of my worship was to own my role as a mama of several children who struggled with mental illness. He who called me would make me adequate one day at a time.

So much more to tell. Was the journey easy?

Never!

Did formulas ever work?

No, but God led me to know how to encourage and help him grow, by faith and by seeking wisdom.

Was I blessed to be his mama?

Always.

And God used my precious Nathan to teach me more about himself than I could ever imagine.

Nathan in a shot from his recent movie!

So, now, as I see my still OCD, mysterious "beloved and blessed by God" creating movies to reach the lost, seeking to become more excellent as a writer, film maker, wanting to use his life to make an impact, I understand that indeed, he was exactly my answer to prayer when I asked God to give me another child, and I know he was exactly what this Clarkson clan needed and wanted.

And as a much older, more experienced mama, I see that God's ways are as high above my ways and his thoughts as high above my thoughts as the heavens are above the earth--and I see so much more clearly, that God's ways are exactly suited to my life.

And I am the most blessed mama ever to have been chosen to be the mama of wonderful Nathan John Clarkson. Could not imagine my world without him.

I think OCD means

Outstanding

Charming

Darling

and the best boy a mama could hope for.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Nathan! And May the rest of your days be kissed by his grace and favor!

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See what Nathan is doing now. He just wrote, raised funds for, produced his first film! You can order or buy it a numerous locations.

There are Those Days....

Sleeping Beauty by Edward Brewtnall

There are those days when I wonder if I have accomplished anything of significance. Sometimes it seems all of my children are out of sorts with me, and I wonder why I have made all of this effort to work hard, love well, teach profoundly and to please Jesus. Those days you wonder if it all really matters.

Those times when you don't feel loving inside and you hope no one will notice because you feel like if you were a good mom you would feel love all the time.

Those times when you expected to have 5 minutes to read a book or talk to a friend or take a tiny little nap--when someone finds you, needs you, AGAIN!

Those times when you know by faith that God is good, but you just aren't quite sure if you see any hope of Him answering your prayers.

Those times when you don't think you can face one more dirty dish or make one more meal.

Those times when just walking into your living room depresses you because you can't imagine that you will ever have enough strength to straighten it up again.

Those times the Christian bubble drives you crazy and you don't feel like you belong anywhere.

Yet, when I am cranky all the time, short with my children, friends, Clay and the world,...,

When I begin to feel dark inside for no apparent reason, I have learned that

A very long sleep, as long as sleeping beauty's, begins to help me feel like I might be a human being again sometime.

Hiding from the crowds, voices, expectations

Taking a long walk in the mountains at sunset

Having a massage

Being with ones I love on my front porch in the rockers in the still evening chill or the early morning quiet and just sitting, listening, time to ponder and drink in a moment of calm

playing quiet music in a dark, candle-lit room where no one can find me

a nice hot bath that covers my tummy and shoulders and soaking for a very long time

Either a cappuccino with an extra shot and 2 raw sugars or strong English tea in a real china cup with dark salted chocolate almonds.

A morning out in a favorite 5 star hotel where I can sit all by myself with no one talking

A breakfast or lunch with a sweet friend who gets me and doesn't want anything from me

To read the Psalms

A personal time with one of my children when they just want to be my friend

A drive through the country roads with music blaring and wind coming through the windows

To watch a pleasing movie with a happy ending and happy people--nothing tragic or sad.

God is in these moments of grace because God made us for a physical world-for food, drink, touch, music, beauty to see, --and it is in experiencing his graces in our physical, real, tangible world, where sometimes we run  into God Himself, strolling through the garden of our lives.

Sometimes these are the most necessary things for me to stay healthy, strong, still believing in ideals, and to try not to blow apart,

is not one more task to complete or chore to finish or way to try to be more perfect--

But sometimes all I need is a break from the pressures and duties of normal life. A sweet one to hug me and tell me they love me, again.

A grace to sustain me on this marathon life. What helps you through those days?

Remember today is the last day to get Own Your Life for $2.99 on Amazon. Hope it encourages you.

PS

Much of life seems impossible. But I had a sudden light bulb moment somewhere in the midst of my years that if I didn’t take care of myself, no one else was probably going to initiate to me in this way. One of Clay’s jobs required him to work 70 hours a week and we were far away from home.

It was when I had 3 children, 6 and under. I bought a double stroller at a second hand store and stuffed Sarah in with the boys. This is when my long walks began. We would walk around the neighborhoods, walk in parks, on nature trails. Somehow getting all of us out helped all of us to have better attitudes.

I would trade with a mom friend once a month–I would take her children for the afternoon, she would do the same.

Clay would take the kids once a month out for breakfast or to a park or nature center for a whole morning or afternoon so I could have “me” time.

I started warm baths when the kids were small–to relax after they went to bed–and when we moved, I would always look for houses that had those old bath tubs that I could fill up high with water.

What I found for myself was, if I did not refuel along the way, I would become angry, grumpy and tended toward drill sergeant mode and somewhere along the way, I knew one of the gifts my children needed from me was a happy mom.

I began to learn I was the only one who could give that to them. I did homeschool 4 children into adulthood, had children with learning disabilities, mental illness, asthmatics with emergency equipment in our home, 17 moves, six times internationally, and all that comes with this. It is indeed a long term commitment and a marathon of sorts, but to make it well, I believe a mom needs to figure out how to bring some graces into her life. May God grant you grace and peace today.

Today You Are Writing the Story of Your Life

Today, I am living my dreams. I remember when I was 33 years old, I trudged through the snowy streets of Vienna where we lived, to a tiny little coffee shop down the street from our old home. The snow was a four foot wall on either side of the sidewalk where I slipped through the middle. Thirty-five days in a row of below 32 degree temperature necessitated me getting out of the house for a little while. I thought I might explode if I stayed there any longer. Sarah was almost 3 and Joel was barely 3 months old. My life was made up of nursing, changing diapers, trying to keep Sarah happy by playing with her inside our 100 year old, cold, 900 square foot home, and then the cooking, cleaning, getting up in the middle of the night and then doing it again. Somehow, this period of life seemed that it would never end, an endless merry-go-round of floating from one day after the other, but all very much the same.

Settling into my cushioned chair in the corner, I felt quite an adult. Ordering a melange, (cappucino), I got out my journal and started writing down how I felt about life. Someday, ..., I would like to....

Dreams, wishes, ideals, hopes spilled over from my heart to the lined pages.

"Some day, I would like to be a writer and be an author of books that encourage and inspire women."

I didn't know if God had seen my heart filled with hopes of faith, dreams, desire, but it was a sacred moment between me and Him that I will not forget.

Eleven years passed. Quiet times, teaching Bible studies, homeschooling my children, moving 5 more times, and making 1000 more meals, washing 2000 loads of clothes, and losing a fair amount of sleep, two miscarriages, and lots of life washed under the bridge. I prayed, worked, and built messages of life through seasons of years of putting one foot in front of the other.

My messages were not some "pie in the sky" out of touch with reality sort of messages. But, right in the messes of life, "God is here," "His beauty is in the moments," "His fingerprints are in my home, in the smiles of my little ones" sort of messages. He knew I needed years of authenticity in order to live through messages He was writing on my heart.

And then, my first book, Mom's conferences and speaking engagements began to bubble up. Eventually 11 books would spill out of my heart, but only when they had time to simmer right where I was living.

Faith, faithfulness and living and, ....., growing closer to God.

Each of us has a unique story to live. We are called to love, serve, inspire, help, give and He will direct the works of our lives and the ways we may each bring light--if we are willing to follow Him and do His bidding.

Each of us has a work to do for Him in this world. It starts with a choice to love, serve, and grow in Him today, right where you are. Today is a part of the story you are writing.

What kind of story are you writing with your life today?

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Just Keep Laughing and don't let life get you down

They caught me giggling.....

What a great week I have had. Joy has been home for one week from school and so I decided it was to be our week of celebrating life together. Putting aside the duties of details of life, I worked on the eternally valuable work of being best friends. What a great decision this was. After tea times every day, a couple of great movies, sleeping in, walking in our favorite places where spring was budding all over and going out to breakfast twice, I now have a whole heart full of new memories made.

Duties are always there. Remember, Jesus said, "Martha, you are worried about so many things." And take time to enjoy this day, this family, this place in the season of life--and laugh at one of my own embarrassing days a couple of years ago.

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Once after a marathon of a winter with sick children, lots of snow, ministry conferences and 3 teenagers and one elementary child in the house, a sweet angel friend bought me a massage. It just took one time to make me a fan. Now, I save my treasured extra dollars in a secret drawer and when I have enough saved, I treat myself to a massage, as I am quite sure it must be good for my health.

I was looking back at some pictures from a year ago, and ran into this anecdote from a last year, as Joy and I were squishing together on the couch at home tonight, looking at old pictures, stalking instagram,  and we giggled all over again!

So enjoy my true story that still makes me laugh!

A couple of weeks ago, I went in for a massage and it was wonderful.

When it was over, I dressed in the dim lights and could hardly see anything.

I then went to three stores, when at the last store, a lady gently came forward and said, "I don't know if I will offend you, but did you know your shirt is on wrong side out and all the tags are showing and the buttons are backwards? Just thought you might want to know."

To think I went through 3 stores that way----life is generally humbling.

But, it actually made me giggle, over and over throughout the day!

Joy told me of a quote that she was thinking about, and it made her giggle.

"A Puritan is someone who is deathly afraid that someone,

somewhere, is having fun."

H. L. Mencken

Though I have nothing against Puritans, this probably expresses what my children sometimes thought of me!

All of life a serious issue and no room for humor!

Perhaps there are times we just need to lighten up and have fun and enjoy the fun that life has given to us.

Too much instruction, too much seriousness or correction is heavy for a child's spirit and becomes just way--"too much."

So next time you wear your shirt wrong-side out, just giggle and get a good laugh-don't take yourself too seriously.

Don't be afraid to smile or to let your children be silly or just act their age. (And I think Jesus wants us to be as children, too.)

Don't be afraid to laugh at your 4 year old boy's silly joke. ( Joel said, "What happened when the snail crossed the road? He got squished!" hahahahaha--this was a 4 year old joke in our home! Smile and giggle--you will live longer."

(And please no one write to me about the person who wrote this quote--a satirist, who was a journalist and did not especially like Christians. I know! But his quip did reflect a bit of truth--that I have seen at times in myself and in others.)

Maybe, as believers, and as moms,

it would just be good for us to celebrate laughter and life a little bit more than always being too serious.

Research shows that a person who smiles 10 times a day, is happier and raises his happy hormone levels immensely. So sometimes in the car while driving, I will smile 10 times--because scripture is actually true--a joyful heart is good medicine, and it drives my kids crazy and then to laughter.

There were times when my children told me to "lighten up," and I actually found it to be good advice--less stressful on the body!

Hope your day has at least a couple of good laughs in it. :)

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Friends: The Fuel to Keep our Souls Alive

Phyllis Stanley, my dear friend and mentor, and me!

(In Italy at Mama Agata's cooking class.)

Yes, these lemons were real and came from the trees around us.

This week, Joy is home and I am drinking in my own kindred spirit who happens to be my child. We made a priority to go together to visit my dear friend, Phyllis. I know that we are committed life friends and that every time I am with her, I will be filled, loved, encouraged in some way. Making commitments to try to be with my sweet friends that God has brought over the years, who "get" me, is a life-time commitment I am making. I am not good at cell phone or emails, but I try to make places in my life to build on those friendships that keep me faithful in my path.  A lifetime of friendships is only kept through mutual working at the friendships and commitment. Cultivate friendships today and they will be a blessing 10 years from now.

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Deep, dark loneliness was a constant companion of my heart for many years. I ached inside for a friend, or someone who cared for me--someone who would even notice me. As a friend-oriented person, I had known deep friendship, but it seemed that once I became a mother, no one was there--and no one reached out to me.

The illusion that if we moved to a new town or joined a new church or group kept us, even as a family. searching for kindred spirits, like-minded friends.

We faithfully attended many groups, meetings, studies, but we were mainly the ones reaching out and often we just didn't seem to fit the mold of other people's expectations.

I remember once when Sarah was washing dishes, again, she said, "Wouldn't it be nice if some time someone would invite our whole family over for dinner and we wouldn't have to be the ones who cooked, cleaned and washed dishes--again!"

Even as a then 12 year old, she wondered at the seeming loneliness of our family as a group.

The kids often made friends over the years as we would move from place to place. And we always had people we "did stuff" with, but very few kindred spirits.

God had made our family exceedingly idealistic, artistic, verbal, and a very close knit family. Our family felt close to each other, but it was hard to find a "match" with someone else.

As I would tearfully pray one more time, God began to speak to me very gently.

"Two are better than one. Woe to the one who has no one to lift him up."

That was me--no one to lift me up. And then there was the Titus 2 verse about older women teaching the younger about motherhood, marriage, and all the rest.

But, it seemed I did not know any older women who wanted to spend time with me--and let's be honest--very few women, that when I observed their lives, I wanted to influence me. And there were not many my own age, either, who seemed to draw me to the depth I wanted to live from deep inside of my heart.

But, I knew and felt that I desperately needed a friend--someone to share my burdens, my doubts, my insecurities, my fears, my struggles.

I wrote in my journal what kind of mentor I wanted:

1. Someone who was spiritual, excellent, deep, idealistic. I wanted someone who when I was with them,  made me want to love God more. I wanted someone whose life and the expression of their lives, would inspire me.

2.  Someone who "got" me and my ideals and actually liked them. As a mom with 4 children, homeschooling, discipleship oriented, it was hard to find others who were ahead of me--it seemed I was always the one ahead of others and I didn't always know what I was doing!

3. A real friend, someone with whom I could enjoy life and have fun--a must.

4. I wanted older, younger and same age in my life--someone ahead, someone behind, someone where I was. (A mentor does not have to be older--just kindred and responsive.)

But God put on my heart to seek friends as a hidden treasure--that it was for me to find and cherish and not to sit around and wait.

I have found that the best friends are those who perceive themselves to be "givers."

--people who are seeking in some way to invest their lives in others for the kingdom. Givers and servants are already on the move and so are open to being a friend.

 I joined some Bible studies over the years, and I would keep my eyes out for someone committed and excited about their spiritual life--perhaps a missionary, a mom who loved her home, family and children, a leader. Then I would ask them if I could spend time with them.

This whole concept of "keeping my antennae out" has helped me so much over the years. It meant looking, actively seeking for that person who was giving of her own life,  or who had a heart need that I could meet and also someone engaged in some kind of ministry or leadership, someone who had "life" about them--that now I define the "life" and the "light" of Christ.--or a hunger to have that life.

Where Jesus is, there will be a sparkle, an excitement, a burning to want more out of life.

And so, I would almost always have to be the one who would make it happen--with many women--I would host lunches, have different women over for tea, meet women for coffee, looking searching for "excellent" women who would draw me to the best of spiritual ideals. I have started small groups in my home, over and over and over again.

But often, it was in the reaching out to others and building small groups, that I found my best friends--sowing the threads of our lives together by serving in mutual ministries we loved. And then, our children would also become friends--serving along side us in purposeful ministries in which we were involved. And so began the community--husbands met husbands, traditions started, history has been made.

I realized that if I wanted godly friends in my life, I needed to look for them, cultivate them, love them and encourage them as I would want to be encouraged.

So I would:

1. Initiate with many women, somehow, some way in the midst of a very busy life with 4 children and ministry--I knew I needed it.

2. I made writers my mentors--and would search out books and writers who stimulated my ideals.

3. I would make it a priority to look for other women who seemed hungry for friendship, and because I needed it, I assumed others needed friendship and so I would "do to them what I wanted them to do to me" and

I would call them, send them notes or emails, intentionally tell them the ways I admired them, and I would invest in their lives and in our friendship.

It's how I met Sarah Mae, my co-author of Desperate--I saw her serving and reaching out through her conference, and  as I was in the habit of reaching out, I reached out to her and she responded back.

You see, Jesus is the lover who reached out, initiated, poured out His love for our benefit. And so in friendship, I began to see myself as a giver of love, a builder of friendships and an initiator of life. 

In giving my life, I found that eventually God gave me the friends and board members and ministry partners and girl friends that I needed and wanted.

And now,

I have friends who serve side by side with me in conferences.

Friends who run leadership conferences with me here in Colorado.

Friends who write a blog network with me.

Friends who live all over the United States and the world, who meet with me whenever we are in the same place. Friends I call, email, pray with, play and adventure all over the world together.

We all sort of mentor each other because we are committed to each other's well being.

Friendship--mentor relationships are an investment--and require intentional giving and planning. Even as a house that is built requires a plan and effort, so friendships grow out of intention and giving and cultivating.

But when I follow the pattern of Jesus--calling the disciples, meeting with them, "doing life" with them, teaching them, serving them, then I had His pattern of giving of Himself.

A personal example

 My friend, Phyllis, is my mentor and dear friend. She is 13 years older than me. There was an immediate connection between us because of our mutual commitments and value for ministry and cultivating a life-giving home.

Yet, because she is very busy and has so many friends, (She and her husband have been on staff with the Navigators for many years, in the States and Internationally.), I just made an assumption that she would be too busy for me. Too many people wanted her attention and friendship. How would she find time for me?

Yet, she was the kind of friend I knew would call me to the ideals I wanted to pursue. So when she had a Bible study, I would ask to join.  Cooking classes held in her home, would find me with my two girls participating. I pursued her as often as time allowed. I looked for every opportunity to be with her and responded to every invitation. And I also initiated times together. I honored the value of our friendship with my time.

She always constantly asked  women come over to her house for cup of tea and talking. And so I made it my habit to ask her if I could come to her home and share a cup of tea with her and also if she wanted to come to my home as often as I could work it out.

I tried to insert myself in her life as much as I could and sought to be of encouragement and support to her amidst her busy life. When I was with her, she almost always opened her Bible, she was always reading some new book. Always, there would be a cup of tea, a candle and flowers waiting for me to feel special in her home. She lived a life of integrity that always inspired me to want to be more excellent. I would copy her, a wise woman!

And so a few years ago, I told her that my life required  regular "Phyllis" time, and so we have loosely made a habit that when I am in town and she is in town, we would get together every week or two. And so making each other a regular commitment in the midst of very active lives, developed into a deep, loving friendship that now, after 15 years, has deep roots.

Three international trips, ministry together, her discipling my own girls, reaching out to other moms and friends together, prayer, meals, spiritual accountability, and more have come because we made our friendship something we would both cherish and invest in, amidst the thousands of demands of our own lives, because we knew that we needed each other.

The life of friendship and the influence of a mentor comes from initiating love and cultivating heart commitments.

And so it is true in life,

"Two are better than one, a strand of three chords is not easily broken,"

and so working diligently and pursuing actively a godly friendship is indeed a treasure.

My books that talk about friendship and mentoring!

Maybe Spring Fever is Biblical!

It all began in St. James Park, near Buckingham Palace, a couple of weeks ago. Sarah and I were meeting on her spring break from Oxford to write a book together. I was sequestered in a small hotel room with a computer and was supposed to be writing a profoundly insightful book. It was just 38 degrees outside, but the daffodils were telling a different story. I had to take a walk to clear my poor little overworked brain. (and the above daffodil picture was taken 8 days later in Hyde Park.)

Every year, it hits me hard. And now, I just give into it, because I am a smart girl! :) Truly, there are times when I can't do one more responsible thing. I am a driven person, you see, and I can get a lot done--as all the moms in the world I know do most of the time, but.....

So, is it too early to have spring fever? Every year, it hits, I share my guilt with you, and find, it is not just me. Each year I write a little differently about spring fever, but always the symptoms are the same.

I may never write or blog or do anything productive ever again. Joy is here for spring break now, and we are just having a fun week. Mounting up over daily life right now in order to be responsible just seems impossible and overly demanding.

My house needs organizing. Groceries need to be bought. Meals must be made. Birthday presents for Clay, Sarah and Joy who have May birthdays,  need to be gathered. I still haven't unpacked my bag from 2 weeks ago--but I do keep it every day--and ignoring it! Commitments are piling high as I ignore them.

But, my brain is empty and I just want to play, or nap, or watch a movie!

I want to eat something wonderful without thought of calorie or fat or sugar--or washing the dishes--and all by myself with no one else to even taste my piece!

I need to answer correspondence.

 I have another book manuscript due April 30, but I haven't even tried to write anything this week.

Right now, I do think I am desperate for about a year off, with a maid to wait on me while I serve everyone else, and a long vacation or journey to a new place, (I love stimulation of new places as a break from the daily grind.),  long uninterrupted time with the closest of friends to some place beautiful and restful where someone cooks all of our meals and cleans up for us, probably a beach,  and no responsibility or calls or demands, and no one needing a part of me for one single moment. Maybe I would have Clay and me steal our children and escape to the mountains for a few days, if I could!

Or I would take the girls to a fun place where we would all just talk and play and talk and play and of course eat and coffee or tea a lot! Girl's club is what we call it.  (Yes, I meant to make coffee and tea verbs as we "do it" so much!)

Really, the truth is, spring fever has hit me hard, and very early.

So, is anyone else having spring fever? Anyone else out there need a mid-year adventure?

Just wondering............

Really........Really! Want to play hooky with me today?

What would you do to escape if you could?

Celebrating the Ordinary Liturgies of Life

“Let us remember that the life in which we ought to be interested is “daily” life. We can each of us only call the present time our own.  Our Lord tells us to pray for today, and so He prevents us from tormenting ourselves about tomorrow." ~Gregory of Nyssa

During the past month, I have been working on a new book that celebrates the life of a healthy home. Seems that in order to have a home brimming over with life, there must be a conductor of that life! Nothing meaningful happens without work, subduing, and endurance. My sweet friend, Holly Packiam, and I share so much of the same philosophy about home and I know you will love her fresh look at a home with her precious littles all about.

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I so desperately want my life to be meaningful. Mothering often happens in the hidden places, and so sometimes I can feel unseen. I know that God knows me intimately and knows the number of hairs on my head. And yet, it’s so easy to lose sight of the truth that He is with me, really with me.

It’s just that His voice is sometimes drowned out by, well, the sounds of my younger two children fighting in the background, yet again, over a toy. I want to ignore it, to stare out my window, or to sit down and lose myself in an engaging book. Why can’t they just be kind, be sweet? Their gradually escalating argument only fueled my desire to throw my own fit. And then my head continues to turn to the sink full of dishes, and just beyond, to the baskets of laundry overflowing.

We can’t escape the daily life— the changing of diapers, the feeding of ourselves and our families, the dishes and the laundry. No matter what our stage of life, the menial and mundane will always be with us.

How will I respond to these tasks set before me? My children turn to observe me. There are moments where I sit down and cry and others where I choose to shift my perspective.

Just as I engage (or try to!) in the liturgy of morning or evening prayer, can I also choose to see the menial and mundane parts of life as moments He wants to engage us?

The menial and mundane tasks of life are opportunities to turn our hearts and mind toward the Lord. 

Folding piece after piece of my children’s laundry, an ancient breath prayer comes to mind.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” It is sometimes shortened as, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy” or simply, “Jesus, mercy.” Known as the “Jesus Prayer”, Christians would repeat this prayer or other simple prayers to the rhythm of their breath.

When engaging in the mundane is difficult, these prayers can ground me in the midst of the daily struggle, the chaos.  These simple prayers can invite the Holy Spirit in when my temptation is to let my mind wander to how much I dislike a mundane task or how I’m struggling to find the meaning in serving my family. Joy can be replaced by feelings of apathy or despair. By repeatedly praying breath prayers, these phrases can become rooted in my heart. I’m in the midst of learning to make this a more natural practice.

Here are some other breath prayer ideas:

Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10)

Holy Wisdom, Guide me.

Jesus, let me feel your love.

O Lord, Show me your way.

Abba Father, I Am Yours. 

In the book, The Quotidian Mysteries by Kathleen Norris, she says, “When humans try to do everything at once and for all and be through with it, we court acedia, self-destruction, and death. Such power is reserved for God, who alone can turn what is “already done” into something that is ongoing and ever present. It is a quotidian mystery.”

What if there is a kind of spirituality vitality that would help us see menial tasks as holy work? I’m daily asking the Lord to help me to see His work through His eyes.

Join me, as I seek to dwell with God in the the midst of the mundane.

Holly Packiam at: http://awakeningwonderblog.com/

"If you are the Son of God, Get Down From Your Cross!"

“If you are the Son of God, get down from your cross.”

Saint Matthew says the mockers said it as they passed by, wagging their heads and hurling insults like punches.

Who passes by a crucifixion? One can only think they came on purpose to mock, spit, humiliate. Did they know as they taunted that they tempted? Could they know this was the plan? He knelt, rocking, sweat mingled with blood as he prayed. “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me. But not what I want, but what You want.”

And so He stayed.

“He saved others; He cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross and we will believe him…”

These were the chief priests and leaders. These were the men that touted scrolls and begged questions, seeking to tangle him in the chords of the law, proving his unrighteousness. Here at last, though in jest, they ask for a sign to prove once and for all that he was the Messiah. They shrug to eachother with I-didn’t-think-so smirks. How could they know?

Twice He had asked if there was another way. Twice he found himself grieved even to the point of death. But, this was the way. He was to be given into the hands of sinners.Not what I want, Father, but what you want.

And so He stayed.

He stayed on His cross for six hours. Broken and bleeding, surrounded by those who hated him, by those who cheered to see his demise. It was no shallow suffering. These were no ketchup stained hands. There was no magic trick. And in the dark He cried:

“Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani! My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?”

He quoted from the Psalms:

My God my God! Why have you forsaken me?

Far from my deliverance are the words of my groaning?

Oh my God! I cry by day but you do not answer, by night, but I have no rest.

Yet, You are Holy.

And so he stayed.

He cried out.

He gave up his Spirit.

I find myself at the foot of His cross this Maundy Thursday. This ministry of His did not make sense. The Jews wanted a conquering King, parading the restored righteousness of Israel back through the gates. A King to cut down their oppressors. A King to give them back their land entirely. Instead, the Lord’s servant came. The man who healed, and was gentle and humble and meek. The despised and rejected of men.

When I look to the cross, I must bow my head, because I cannot bear to look. In the cross I see the white lies and the blood of the centuries, wars between brothers and gossip, refugees and rejectees, innocence lost and antidepressants. It tells me something true about this war torn world of ours that I don’t like to think of: We’re dying.

We are so afraid of death. When our grandparents get old, we hide them away in nursing homes so not to see their lives fade into death. Death makes a fool of all men, and we are not to be made fools of. So we create business markets with fast expanding profits aimed to make us live forever. We want Spring but never Autumn.

We find ourselves saying, Get down from the cross.

But did He not say: “Truly, truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies it produces many seeds.”

And so he fell to the ground.

The seed of David fell to the ground.

(Based off of Psalm 22, Isaiah 53, Matthew 26-27)

From my sweet daughter, Joy.

From:https://joynessthebrave.wordpress.com/