In Praise of Being Judgmental

Occasionally I find something so thought provoking I just have to share it. Today it just happens to be from the blog of my lovely daughter Joy. I would to hear your thoughts on the matter!

In Praise of Being Judgmental

Joy Clarkson

My mother has often told the story of an ill-fated trip to the YMCA with my three siblings. After a hearty attempt to exhaust us in the swimming pool, my mother allowed my siblings to sit with her in the community spa tub. While we were soaking, a woman with rather generous proportions joined us. One of my brothers, three at the time, with his only his raisin toes dipped in the water, gazed in consternation. Finally, he leaned in and said in a lispy stage whisper,

“Mom. That lady is fat.”

That day, my brother learned the many nuances of the word “rude.”

This habit of children telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth is one that is rightly curbed by parents if for no other good reason that it will not go well with you in the land if you are constantly apprising people of their faults. But, there is something wholesome and necessary in practice of saying what is obvious, even if it is only to ourselves. Of coming to conclusions. Making judgements.

Judgement is a big ugly word in our culture. And for good reason! So much of our public (and personal!) discourse is shaped by name calling, intention blaming, and convenient other-ization. But, there are other reasons. In our individualistic culture we reserve the right not only to do everything we want, but to do it without the judgement of others. There is almost no individual more universally despised than the judgemental jerk. It doesn’t matter if your judgement is correct; mind your own business. In short: #DontJudge.

But what do we mean by “judging”?

My little dictionary app defines the word this way:

judgment |ˈjəjmənt|(also judgement )

noun

1 the ability to make considered decisions or come to sensible conclusions.

This doesn’t sound so bad. One might even go so far as to say it is something we ought to do. Under this definition, judgement isn’t always just about people; it’s about decision making.

Children make judgements all the time.

Carrots are gross.

Strawberries are yummy.

Dad’s hair looks weird.

This book is boring.

Suzy is mean.

Or, as I was recently told by a disgruntled 4 year old, You never stop singing.

In Boundaries (Cloud and Townsend, 1992), the authors, both clinical psychologists, discuss the courageous (and sometimes obnoxious) stage of truth telling in young children. They stated that it is an important part of a child’s developmental process for two reasons: 1. It helped children develop a sense of separateness and self. 2. It develops the ability to say “no” and to protect themselves from danger, and to say “yes” and choose to engage in things that can give them delight and wholeness.

In short, this developmental stage teaches them to make judgements: considered decisions based on sensible conclusions.

Having the honesty to say “Joe is mean and scary” or “Martha is weird” may be the discretion that protects them from a deep and abiding harm.

I wonder sometimes if, as adults we have neglected this important safeguard.  Are we making considered decisions based on sensible conclusions? Or are we trying to avoid being rude?

Too many times I have allowed myself to get caught in sticky and harmful situations and relationships by not listening to my inner judgmental-jerk.

But there is the rub: we too often speak of judgement in entirely negative terms. I think this is because we conflate two kinds of judgement. In my mind I call them righteous judgement and self-righteous judgement.

Righteous judgement is the judgement of the book of Proverbs: it tells us what is wise, safe, and reasonable, and what is not. It is founded in the impartial workings of the universe; it speaks a language of choices and consequences. It tells us the ways things are. It protects us. Righteous judgement is based on discretion which is the trained— not inherent!— ability to parse out truth from falsehood and act accordingly. This sort of judgement looks at an ingrown relationship and says “this is not good or lifegiving. Something must be done.”

Self-righteous judgement is the judgement of the gossip. Like all vices, it is a virtue turned inward. Where righteous judgement seeks to tell the truth for the sake of health and holiness, self-righteous judgement tells a small truth to tear down others and build up the one who tells it. It is built on a presumption of innocence of the judger. It looks at an ingrown relationship and blames till it's blue in the face, never wanting for a moment to look inward or admit culpability.

I think the essential difference is this: righteous judgement judges actions, self-righteous judgement judges hearts. And ultimately, judging characters is up to God, not us (thank goodness).

I will readily admit, I all too often fall prey to self-righteous judgement. Humans are possessed of an infinite ability to justify their actions, and I am not immune. In fact, by personality I’m fabulous at blustering around with an agenda and a profound sense of my own correctness. However, as I’ve grown older and been through a few of my own tussles, I’ve come to learn deeply the need for a childlike veracity. I want to see as much of the truth as my cloudy eyes can muster so that I can make the best decisions I can. I want to let Wisdom teach me. I want to be open to the discernment and honesty of others. I want to be kind and gentle and ever aware of my own limitations, but I also want to make considered decisions based on sensible conclusions.

My brother had no malice in his heart on that fateful YMCA day. He didn’t condemn her character or her person. He was only exhibiting his God-given ability to notice things and come to conclusions. But the really remarkable thing is that he said it in perfect humility; he did not feel in any way better by making his observation. And perhaps this is something we can learn from children: to be honest, to be judgmental, and all along to be humble about it. Because we can be rather silly too.

These are my meandering and unfinished thoughts on the matter. What do you think?

Readings to consider:

Proverbs 8-9

Boundaries (Cloud and Townsend, 1992)

Matthew 10:16

So, my, (Sally's), conclusion or admonition is that with wisdom, discernment to make proper judgments, we free our children to be confident in making proper pronouncements that will lead them rightly.

What do you think?

I hope you all enjoyed this post! For more of Joy's writing, head over to Joy's blog. 

And don't forget to head over to At Home with Sally for the new podcast.

Peace to you all!

Showing Love To Our Children Through Appreciation and Honor

Clay, my man.

Tonight, I am sitting with a smile in my heart. Returning from a whirlwind week of speaking in North Carolina with so many of you precious friends! Last night, as Joel and I flew home from speaking in Philadelphia, Clay and Joy picked us up at the airport and we had 2 hours of drive-home in slick, slippery, blowing snow, bumper to bumper traffic.

But this morning, early, I was heart-filled as Clay, my dear partner in life, gave a most excellent sermon at church. How I love his teaching. He is amazing. And so the rest of the day was spent cooking, setting tables, lighting candles, putting on music to share a birthday dinner to celebrate his 65th birthday!

How precious to remember the amazing ways God has worked in his life and in our lives together as parents, partners in ministry, and followers of our precious Jesus.

So, instead of writing a blog, I spent the evening celebrating my wonderful Clay. But the evening was so well spent.

This week's podcast fits in a little bit to the evening we just shared. Our relationship through the years has been built through learning to honor one another, to hold fast to our commitments to love and be loyal "till death do us part," and nurturing and pouring life into this relationship over so many years has reaped a harvest of love, loyalty, seeing God's faithfulness and preparing together to live the next years trusting Him for more adventures together. So, today, May 2, I celebrate my sweet Clay and ask you all to pray God's favor and blessing for him. I am mostly thanking God for his generosity and faithfulness through our years together. Happy Monday to you!

Happy 65th birthday, sweet Clay. Your crew loves you bunches.

Hope you enjoy our newest podcast. Kristen and I love the concept of honoring our children that they can always know the unconditional love they can expect in our home, and inside our love.

Hope it encourages.

Regaining the Imagination of the Importance of Motherhood

May is an important time for celebrating accomplishments—graduations, music recitals, sports competitions. But I want to especially highlight motherhood here because May is also the month we celebrate motherhood— and mothers matter!

Culture has lost imagination for how important a mother’s role truly is, and yet even in this brave new world we live in, it is no less true that, as William Ross Wallace wrote in 1865, “the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.” When we understand that a mother’s influence will shape the minds, hearts, values, souls, and faith of the next generation, we will celebrate her role indeed.

Instead of sharing from my experience as a mother, I give you my daughter Sarah. Her words on a recent Mother’s Day spoke so dearly and deeply to me. Here's an excerpt:

Dear Mom,

We just don’t seem able to manage a Mother’s Day together, do we? Well, in your absence and decidedly in your honor, I have a story to tell. Perhaps you’ll think it an odd one for a tribute to your motherhood. A workaday tale it may be, but in my mind it is a bright, unfading gem.

For what you gave me one Texas morning almost twenty years ago remains a grace that forms the bedrock of my heart. Memories don’t get much better than that, odd or not. Here goes. I stood with munchkin nose pressed hard against the back door glass. Outside the skies tumbled and fought, the rain fell in torrents for the fifth day in a row, and the roar of newborn creeks called me even through the panes.

Behind me you gathered books and pencils for a morning of homeschool, switching on the lamps to battle the outdoor gloom. But even as you did, the boys slipped beside me, glued their noses to the window too, and when you called us we turned three small, grieved faces away from a world that seemed tailor made for splashing and exploration.

“Aw, Mom,” we groaned, timid but yearning for that alluring realm beyond. “Can’t we just go outside and explore today?”

I still remember how startled I was at your yes. The way you were silent for a second, took a deep breath, pushed the books aside, and put your hands on your hips.

“Old shoes and old clothes on before you go,” you ordered, and we hastened for our gear, grabbing boots and jackets, hearts pattering in elation at this wholly unexpected day. We were back in two minutes, and behold, so were you. A tiny jolt touched my heart at the sight of you decked in scuffed shoes and old jeans, intent upon joining our expedition. I hadn’t expected that the queen would lead the adventure.

You were, of course, the same queen who would also wash the several loads of muddy clothes resulting from it, mop up our boot prints on the kitchen floor, and defend our bedraggled state to my grandmother when we returned. (It was her house, after all.)

But I was too little to know all of that. All I knew was that your presence hallowed the adventure. And ah, there was so much we longed to show you. Out we tromped into a world all a whisper, the air tingling with the rain, the sky swift and changeful as the rivulets below.

In an ecstasy of abandon we jumped in every puddle to be found within the first ten feet, twirled and whooped and ran all out, limbs loose and swinging, to the pasture gate that led to the tank—the pond, where the cattle watered. There the real drama awaited—a real flood down by the giant oak, now up to his waist in new-made rivers.

“Come on, Mom!” we screeched above the roar of the water, picking our way through the mud of the old cattle trails, ducking beneath cedar branches and wintered vines. You came. Smiling, eyebrows arched in interest at every fossil we pointed out, every yell of false alarm when a branch turned out not to be a snake.

You came right into the streams, splashed us with the cold, swift water, and when we eyed the swiftest torrent with daring, hungry eyes, you nodded your permission. In we went, right up to our short little waists, fighting against the current in an overjoyed grapple with the one joyous fact of the water. I remember that for one instant I looked back at you.

Already in the current, I turned and sought your face. I was a little in awe that you would let us dare the flood. I was proud that you were there to see us do it. And if I was also a little afraid of the torrent, well, I had you at my back. You caught my eye.

And to this day I cannot forget the glint of fun that blazed  in your glance. The slight nod of reassurance that told me I would never be out of your sight. Then the smile, like a whisper between those who know the great camaraderie of adventure. I laughed. And dove straight in. And that, Mom, is one of the clarion moments for which I will thank you all my days.

 

 

A Simple Meal at the End of a Difficult Day Can Be a Feast!

Many years ago, Sarah, Joy and I traveled to Europe with a friend and had quite an adventure making our way to our final destination.  The lesson we all learned that day was that after a difficult day, even the most simple meal can seem a feast!

We'd had a lovely day visiting Beatrix Potter's home, but a persistent rain continued. At the end of our visit, we picked up our luggage and slogged half a mile through the constant soaking rain to the train station.

Our train seemed a welcome haven from the cold, dreary day. We secured four seats together, settled ourselves and all our belongings, then spread out crusty bread; pungent cheddar cheese; and grapes for a picnic lunch on a drop-down table. Not long after we had finished eating, four surly people boarded the train, walked right to where we were seated, and said, "You're sitting in the wrong seats. Even though the tag doesn't say the seats are reserved, we reserved them. You'll have to move."

I was tired and worn out, cold and wet, and a little irritated. After several hours, Sarah, my oldest daughter, shouted down to us from her seat toward the front, "Hurry! I just found out that our stop is the next one and there won't be much time to get off."

Once again, the four of us made a spectacle of ourselves as we exited the train, knocking about with all of our paraphernalia, moving as quickly as possible onto a train platform in an unfamiliar station amidst the black darkness of night. Again, we were met with a constant drizzle.

Our first obstacle was a two-story staircase to the street level, which we had to climb with all our heavy bags in tow. We made it to the top with great relief, but we could find no taxis. Our aim was to locate the bed-and-breakfast where we had reservations. An hour later, we were still slogging through the mud and splashing through unavoidable puddles on cobblestone roads. Our jeans were soaked up to our knees, our hair was dripping wet, and our faces were all smudged with melting mascara.

We all plodded on in silent endurance. Finally, at nine o'clock, one and a half hours after we left the train station, we saw our bed-and-breakfast through the dim light of a streetlamp. We knocked and knocked, and finally we glimpsed a small light turn on at the back of the house. The door opened, and a charming, white-haired, lively man greeted us warmly with a deep English lilt.

"I thought you had decided not to come, and I had given up on you on such a miserable night." After we told him our story, he gasped and said, "Why, the train station is more than two miles from here. I can't believe you walked it in this pouring rain!"

It is amazing how grateful one becomes for simple fare after slogging through a day of rain, cold, miles of walking, and growling stomachs! We gathered around a small antique table, surrounded by teapots, Victorian pictures of children and animals, and an eye-feast of collectibles of every kind.

A steaming pot of strong black coffee, a pile of freshly buttered toast served with whipped honey, bananas, and bowls of cereal became for us a victory banquet. Each morsel was delectable to our appreciative growling stomachs. The shared conversation as we crowded together, the laughing, antics, and stories so generously delivered by our charming host made a great memory for us. The immense relief of being out of the rain, in a warm, inviting room, painted our faces with smiles. Our bodies heaved sighs of contentment as we finally pattered up the stairs to bed.

Later, as I lay in a double bed with my daughter Joy snuggling next to me, I told her that she was amazing to have made it through such a day without complaining even once. "I'm so impressed that you could walk that far and carry your own bags and be so cheerful while knowing you were drenched to the bone and exhausted and hungry. I don't think many thirteen-year-olds would have done so well. It was difficult for me, and I've been traveling for more than thirty years. Then you made it until nine o'clock without a bite to eat. And you were very gracious to our host for his simple meal."

"Mom, I feel so proud of myself," she said. "It's like I passed a hard test and now I feel like I'm a real companion to all the adults. I was thinking about how much more grateful I was for cereal and fruit than if I had a five-course meal prepared by a great chef on a normal day. We shared a great adventure, and I proved to myself that I wasn't just a little girl anymore. Even your friend told me that she didn't know a single teenager who could have done so well. I think this might be my favorite memory of the trip so far!"

What an amazing attitude. And how well she put into practice the apostle James's words: "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing" (James 1:2-4).

How can you encourage your children to persevere in their own difficult situations, today?

This story was shared in Dancing With My Father, available here on Amazon!

Giving in to Spring Fever Might Be The Most Spiritual Thing To Do! A new podcast

St. James Park, last week, behind Buckingham Palace where the queen lives!

So, is it too early to have spring fever?

Don't you think that God meant for us to go outside, to take naps under budding trees, to breathe in pleasure when everything is alive and inviting after a long hard winter?

I thought I would pop if I didn't get to go on my trip to the last couple of weeks. An overwhelming desire to escape was rushing through every molecule of my being.

To breathe apart from responsibility, or phone calls, or requests from loved ones. Just time to blow.

My house needs organizing. Groceries need to be bought. Meals must be made. Birthday presents for Clay, Sarah and Joy need to be gathered. Packing my bags for one more trip with Clay is still waiting for me in my bedroom. I need to work on my conference messages so I will have something quite profound to say to all the sweet moms who will be together in North Carolina.

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

A maid would be appreciated right now. A personal massage therapist in my home at my beck and call. Someone to provide a fully cooked, fresh, oh so tasty meal--where I do not have to wash a single dish.

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

Warm sweet cheese Strudel (Vanilla Rahm Strudel) vanilla cream sauce w/berries in Vienna

Yumm! Ate the whole thing and did not feel a bit guilty!

I need to answer correspondence, but I just can't, somehow I just can't.

 I need to work on two chapters of a  book  due next month, and the subject is about owning our priorities in life---hummmmmm!

But right now, I do think I am desperate for about a year off, with a personal assistant 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; We would hire a gourmet cook where someone cooks all of our meals and cleans up for us, probably a beach,  or mountains or lake district and no responsibility or calls or demands, and no one needing a part of me for one single moment.

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! (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?

Join Kristen and me today in our podcast. Why giving in to spring fever, taking a break, might actually be one of the most spiritual things you can do. And ENJOY your week.

Building a Heritage of Faith

The house is still, my bed so cozy, and the sun’s first rays are only just now reflecting on the Colorado foothills a few miles away.

Even though the drowsiness of sleep lingers, already I can hear the notes of the song that calls out to me every morning. It is my wake- up call, and before I even realize it, I am quietly exiting my bed to start my morning routine.

I slide on my slippers, feel my way through the darkness to the hallway, and shuffle quietly to the kitchen, headed straight for the teakettle. It, too, is slow to get started at this early morning hour, so while I wait for the water to boil, I gaze out the window and through the pine trees to see the glow of sunlight gaining strength on the mountainside.

Tiptoeing to the library with my prepared cup of tea, I flip on the light, sink into my overstuffed chair, and bury myself in the warm, familiar blanket that remains faithfully draped over the couch during the cold winter months. Leaning over, I select several items from my book basket, including my Bible.

Everything is ready now. As I take that first nourishing sip of strong English tea, I prepare to enter into conversation, petition, and reflection with the Lord of the universe.

Spending focused time with God on a daily basis is not always easy. Some days it almost feels impossible. But I’ve learned that what I draw from the well of His goodness in those quiet, unseen moments will do more than just quench my need. It will also be available for me to provide for the spiritually thirsty I encounter along the way.

The river of God’s goodness will flow through me and nourish all who cross my path. My investment in our time together will pay off in my words, my actions, my faith, and my values.

One of my sons enjoyed reading Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers:

The Story of Success (2008), which examines how and why certain high achievers achieve greatness. One concept that was particularly invigorating for my son was the notion that it takes around ten thousand hours of practicing a skill for one to gain expertise. After explaining the concept to me, he pondered out loud, “Mom, I bet you have spent at least ten thousand hours in the Word of God. That makes you an expert in the Bible.”

“I’m not an expert by any means,” I protested. Yet when we added up my probable time spent in Scripture and prayer during all those morning quiet times, even allowing for significant time off each year, we came up with a number well beyond ten thousand hours.

It didn’t happen all at once, of course. I racked up those hours slowly, morning by morning. Even as a magnificent mansion is built one brick at a time, so ten thousand hours come one hour at a time.

Having a morning devotional time was a practice that I was taught as a young college student. And so by the time I got married and had children, it had already become a life habit.

I still don’t know if I’m a Bible expert. But I do know that those hours invested over the years have given me a constant stream of Scripture at my command. Certain verses surprise me all the time by occurring to me at needed moments throughout the day.

Choose today to begin or continue to build that heritage of faith in your children. Begin by having quiet times with them and then as they get older they can have their own, special time with the Lord.

Once Upon a Bedtime

After the podcast about being intentional about bedtime, this story once again came to mind and I wanted to share it so you could see how that ideal played out, once upon a time! Joy was 7 1/2 and as I read this story again, I wanted to take her into my lap, again. But now she is too big. So we just had a morning cup of tea before the day blew into place. Here is our story!

It seemed like such a good idea to let each of my children have a friend over to celebrate New Year's Eve in our home. We provided an abundance of delicious junk food, time-consuming board games, and favorite movies. It was an evening of fun and frenzy as our crowd of young people filled the house with their antics and energy.

The next day, however, with the last guest out the door, little Joy seemed out of sorts. A growing frown clouded her face. I tried to connect with her, but our conversations were short and stunted, interrupted by phone calls, children wanting to eat, a neighborhood dog attacking our own dog, who was in heat—the typical interesting and demanding minutes of life that occupy a family each day.

That evening after dinner the older children wanted to watch a video that would have been enjoyable to me as well. But as we began the show, I realized the subject matter would be of little interest to Joy, who had come up to crawl into my lap.

The Lord seemed to gently push my heart. Joy was growing up so quickly, and I realized I wanted to treasure such moments, which I knew from experience would pass in just a few years. So I suggested that she and I go down to her room, snuggle up on her bed, and watch a Shirley Temple movie called Curly Top.

"Oh, Mommy!" she responded. "Let's do it!"

I hooked up our small TV-VCR on the desk chair next to her bed. We squeezed in together among the pillows on her twin bed to talk, draw pictures, and watch this show, which never failed to delight her. But even before the video began, she began to fairly bubble over with things to say to me. And then I began to understand the reason for her daylong frown.

"Mommy, I feel bad about some things that happened with Ann last night. I've been worrying about it all day, but I didn't want the other kids to hear what I did. I haven't been able to think about anything else."

She proceeded to tell me that she and her friend had taken all the money out of her bank. They had hidden it in a backpack and gone out to the back of our three-acre yard to have an adventure. And somehow, as they counted the money and played with it, they had lost two of the collector coins that were precious to her.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Joy continued, her face very serious.

"I know you've told me not to take my bank down from my closet and not to play with money. But my friend wanted me to do it, and I just didn't want to tell her no!"

When I didn't answer, Joy added pensively, "It seems like when I'm with a friend, I'm always tempted to do what I know I'm not supposed to do."

"Why do you think you feel that way?"

"—Cause I want people to like me, and I'm afraid if Isay no, they won't like me. But then I feel terrible! I knew I couldn't feel okay until I was with you again."

I took a deep breath. This was one of those God-designed situations I always hoped would come my way. Now I prayed that the Lord would make me sensitive to use this teachable moment to guide my precious child on the path of truth.

I opened Joy's Bible and showed her the verse in 1 John 1:9: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." For the next few minutes I explained again what sin is and why Christ had to come to pay the penalty for our sin. I shared with her my own desire to please people and told about a similar incident in Sarah's life and what negative consequences had ensued. I reminded her that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23) but that God in his grace forgives us when we repent and turn back to him.

Though Joy had heard this explained to her many times, she was beginning to understand what this meant to her personally because of the awareness she had in her own heart of how easily she could be tempted to go against her conscience.

"Joy," I said, "I think we need to pray together to God. I would like you to tell him what you did that was wrong. That's what confession means. Then let's thank him that he loves you and will always forgive you for anything you ever do. Then I will pray and thank him too."

So we prayed. "Everything's okay now, right?" Joy said. "Right." "You're not mad at me?" "No, I'm happy you did the right thing." And Joy was happy too.  "I think that's what it meant when Pilgrim had to get that burden off his back by laying it at the cross," she pronounced. "Remember when we read that in our Dangerous Journey book?' I just wanted you to help me get this burden off my back, Mom!"

The rest of the evening, Joy unloaded all sorts of dreams, desires, and confessions that burden the heart of a young girl. We talked and talked. We prayed together for God's forgiveness, and I hugged her and kissed her and told her I would always love her, "no matter what!" Finally we snuggled down under her covers and turned on the VCR.

(She didn't even seem to notice that I dozed through most of the movie!)

This story was first told in The Ministry of Motherhood. You can find it here!

Bedtime Discipleship

I'm so grateful Kristen and I had time to record this podcast for you about bedtime discipleship before I made my way to Europe these past couple of weeks!  While we're both so busy, we always enjoy talking about these important topics and sharing our thoughts with you.  Thanks so much for your letters and comments letting us know what you're pondering and questioning as you listen along!

Bedtime discipleship is something that has been on my heart so much recently.  In our house, the bedtime hour has been a time of intentional reconnection with our children: a time to check in with each child to find our what's happening in their lives, to share positive words with them, and prayerfully send them to slumber with grace filling their hearts and minds.  Our desire has been to help our children lay down their burdens and have peace with us as their parents and also with God.

In the Psalms, David talks about meditating on God in the night watches.  And so we want to establish that same pattern in our children's lives.

Our first goal is to get them to open their heart to us, so we ask questions.  What emotions are on their hearts?  It's important to give them time to share secrets, what they’re thinking about, what's happening in their lives and with their friends.

When we end our days relationally and work to put to rest all the fears of the day, our children learn they can trust us in the dark when they’re older.  As adults we are always  run down at the end of the day, with so much on our minds; our children are that way, too. While it can be tempting to send them off to bed with a "goodnight" from another room, if we rush through this time we're afforded each night, we all lose.  Our children want to talk, get their thoughts out, and touch base with us.

This is the time to find out ... What’s your child’s heart condition?  Are they anxious, taking a long time to fall asleep?  Asking questions in the nighttime hours is really the best way of finding out what’s going on in the secret parts of their hearts.  As they tell us about what's happening in their lives, they can be led into more questions ... How does your conscience feel about that?  How can I help you?  Was there some other way you might have responded to that situation?

Let your children tell you their stories. Ask the leading types of questions ...  How are your classes going? What do you think about that thing we talked about yesterday? What’s new happening in your life?  What are you thinking? Who are you meeting? Is there anything you want to ask me?

Every night, children can learn to give God their issues, temptations, difficulties.  We can represent Christ’s forgiveness and understanding and his servant heart to our children when they bring up issues.

I am intentional during these moments to look into my children’s eyes so I can see what’s going on, having become a student of reading their souls through the lens of their eyes.  You can, too! It just takes practice.

It is so important that we put our children to bed with peace.  If you’ve been at odds or  had a difficult time of correction during the day, now's the time to discuss it and make sure the rough places are made smooth.

Make sure to pray with them after you’ve listened to the spilling out of hearts! Teach your children to lay their troubles down, to hand their worries to Jesus. This helps your children build a lifelong habit of laying down their troubles rather than ruminating on them or trying to manage them all themselves.

Finally, give your children a story or verse before you leave the room, so their mind can work over something positive while they’re falling asleep.  Remind them of something sweet they did that day, or when they were little, or perhaps paint a picture of something wonderful in their future, so there’s goodness and hope and fun as they’re falling asleep.

We've also loved leaving music playing in the room when we move on.  Scripture melody lullabies and Michael Card's Lullabies for Babies were popular bedtime choices.

The goal of bedtime traditions is to have a time of connection, resolution, and blessing with our children before they go to sleep. I hope you enjoy today's podcast where we talk more about this important time of day! Read more about traditions important to our family in The Lifegiving Home.

 

Find Beauty in Your Own Backyard

After the whirlwind of a busy conference season, which usually involves countless plane flights, hotels, and faraway cities, I find it such a relief to make that final trip back to our beautiful Colorado home, nestled in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and surrounded on all sides by snow-laden pine trees. Relaxing by candlelight, sipping coffee, and listening to gorgeous instrumental music while sharing a dessert souffle' with my family is just the kind of rest I need after those busy winter months.

Each of us has our own puzzle of life to figure out, and we assemble the pieces with the grace God provides us in our need. My puzzle of a speaking/writing/ministry life has meant that by March each year, my body is in need of restoration and the rhythms of home.

In Colorado, March still clings to the chill of winter even as signs of spring begin to emerge. The persistence of cold and gray makes it that much harder to persevere with my normal responsibilities.

That is why I almost always take a break in March. The journey of ministry and homemaking to which I have been called is a long one, and if I am to make it to the end with resilience, I have to plan for adequate rest along the way.

It also helps, I’ve learned, to seek out beauty, especially on those long, gray days of March. I remember once that a friend told Sarah, my oldest daughter, that her love for beauty seemed a bit frivolous.

Thankfully I was able to share with her that we are all responsible to keep a light burning in our souls and that beauty is one of the most profound fuels for that fire. Creating a beautiful environment and appreciating the joyful moments in the midst of a fallen, sad world not only nurtures the light in our souls but also helps give light to others.

None of us is immune to pain and ugliness in life. Allowing ourselves to admit that truth and to recognize that our difficulties may persist for years can actually free us to be intentional about staying alive and awake to God’s goodness in the midst of it all. We all have to take responsibility for replenishing our souls, and God has given beauty as a watering can to hydrate the dry and shriveled parts of our lives. Just as God incarnated Himself into the world in the person of Christ, He wants to incarnate His life into our lives every day. Beauty is one of His primary means of doing that.

How do we bring more of this incarnational beauty into our lives and find refreshment when we grow weary? I’ve found it helps to be with people who inspire beauty in my soul and help me become centered and feel understood. These relationships provide a kind of soul sanctuary where I can stop pretending and most fully be myself. Godly friendships can act as human “cathedrals,” and when we enter into the safety of their love and support, we are enabled to worship God more fully in the beauty of His holiness.

We Need God's Refreshment

Walking down aged cobbled streets with the chill of spring air trying to make a comeback, resting in the comfort of one of my very  best friends, Joel, has brought back a sweet memory of when he was a little boy.

As we meandered amongst tall apartments, with ornate facades speaking of artisans of days gone by, we soaked up the "Morgan!" and nods from passerbys. Last week, we rested and lived mindlessly with the desire to restore in Vienna, Austria, where he was born.

This week, meetings, gatherings, personal appointments have brought me back to reality once again in Oxford, England. But the sweet breath of freshness of 3 days hidden brought some life back to my soul. And once again, I have a sweet memory upon which to dwell when I think of Joel in the years to come. The memory below was one when he was 7 years old and is still sweet to me today.

Take time to refresh today, and to make a sweet memory with one of your precious ones, even in the midst of a cluttered day. It will, indeed, pass all too quickly. But today is the day you are building your future best friends.

*******

The house was cloaked in quiet and the fading shadows of night that signal the coming dawn. I gingerly tiptoed through the living room, aware that the slightest noise could awaken a sleeping child. I quickly slipped on my comfortable, broken-in tennis shoes, quietly anticipating the beauty I would find on my private morning walk. It was wildflower season in Texas and I had never seen it so beautiful—pools of deep-azure bluebonnets blanketing open fields and accented by scarlet splashes of Indian paintbrush. I coaxed open the storm door, managed to stifle its annoying squeak, and sneaked out the final few steps to freedom.

I had barely set foot on the front porch stairs when I heard the soft voice from behind me. "Do you mind if I go with you today, Mom?" It was my gentle-spirited, easy-going middle child, Joel.  I almost never had time alone with him, so I quickly adjusted my expectations for a solitary morning walk, happy to have these few moments together with my firstborn son. "Sure, honey! You go get dressed, and I'll wait right here for you." Soon he was back and we headed out into the cool morning.

The road in front of our house was totally deserted, and the brisk morning air raised goose bumps on our arms as the gravel crunched beneath our feet, accentuated by the crisp silence. As the last vestiges of night slowly retreated, Joel's excited voice broke through the morning silence. "Look at that star, Mommy. ..the bright one! What is it?"  Never in my whole life do I remember seeing the morning star, but it seemed that God had hung it there this morning, radiant against the still black sky, just for our pleasure. I took advantage of a teachable moment to remind Joel that Jesus was called the bright and morning star. Like the morning star, he is a beautiful light shining in the darkness, a promise of the light of day that is soon to come.

As we stood there enjoying our star, it was as if the Lord wanted us to celebrate that moment with him and his creation. Within minutes, the sky began to glow in shades of pink and soft purple, and soon the beautiful star faded away into a blue expanse as the most beautiful sunrise I can ever remember seeing ushered in the new day. As my sweet boy held my hand and walked with me on that special morning, we marveled together at the creative handiwork of our Creator, refreshed for the rest of the day. The moment was stamped indelibly on my heart.

I need regular moments in my life like that morning walk, times of refreshment and restoration that refill the spiritual well in my heart, which is too often left dry by the spirit-draining hustle and bustle of contemporary life. If I don't take care to keep it filled, I soon find I have no spiritual refreshment to give to those whom God has put into my life, especially my always-thirsty children. When I let my well run dry, I am no longer able to be a source of refreshing water to them, or to others in my life. To say it more simply, I cannot keep giving out without taking in.

King David prayed to the Lord, his Shepherd, who "leads me beside quiet waters" (Psalm 23:2). Literally, he said that the Lord would lead him to waters of resting places. Shepherds know that not all waters are "restful waters."

Some are shallow, warm, stagnant pools. The good ones, though, are deep pools fed by flowing spring waters that keep the surface water cool, refreshing, and restorative. Such waters provide the very best resting places for weary sheep. That is where God leads us to fill our souls.

Where will you take time today to experience the beauty God has placed all around you?  How can you draw deeply from His refreshment?

You can find Seasons of a Mother's Heart at Amazon!