Taking Charge of your Circumstances to Write a Great Life Story

Sitting outside on my front porch, facing the chill air of an autumn evening, dark thoughts whirling around my head, I seethed with anger and poured out my thoughts to God.

"I give so much. I love so much. I try so hard to do what is right. I also fail. But it feels like my life just keeps being so hard, so heavy, too much. I just don't feel like I can handle what you have given to me."

This particular memory came from the challenging years of one of my teenage children who was making poor choices. But it could have been during

my first year of marriage,

or when I had three children under five and was exhausted and hopeless that I would ever accomplish anything

or when we had money difficulties, again,

or when my son had all the letters I did not understand, (ocd, add, odd, slight autistic issues, a learning disability) and never gave me rest or peace in my days

or when family was just plain hard,

or when people hurt me, (especially fellow Christians)

and or I was lonely again amidst our 17 moves,

or or or.......

Though God created idealism in our hearts because he made us for a perfect world, and we can still imagine what our world should be like, all of us will be subject to the fallenness of this place, the challenges and difficulties of being alive amidst so many years separated from God's perfect will. And so often, our lives will be difficult because of our own unwise choices or because of the lack of wisdom or abuse of others. It is age old and historically true for all generations.

In these struggling places, it is natural to be sad, fearful, disappointed, disheartened, discouraged. And we need to give ourselves room, at times to grieve. Please know I feel so much for all of you who are in the midst of so much. I wish I had known someone to talk to through my difficulties. I do pray for you all.

Yet, it is in these very challenging places that our responses to our circumstances, to God and to others will determine the eternal fruit of our lives. It is when life is so very troubled that heroes are made. They may have the same feelings of fear, being overwhelmed, wanting to run. But they become heroes because they act courageously.

Even this past couple of weeks I have had about 5 amazing women verbalize defeat because of overwhelmingly serious circumstances--including a husband addicted pornography, a prodigal son going down a road of danger, issues with teens, a sweet one whose husband left her for another, and several just plain exhausted, burned out women who need a good rest and encouragement.

So often instead of learning to move beyond the chaos or threatening circumstances of our lives towards order or healing or productivity or Biblical solution, cultural voices give us every reason to compromise our ideals and values at these difficult junctures.

Often, we live in blame, (it's someone else's fault), or fear, (I don't think anything is going to turn out well--I feel so desperate and out of control), or bitterness, (this isn't fair) or defiance or depression (I will live in anger, I give up, I will be a victim of my circumstances, because I do not feel I am capable of getting out of this--I don't see any way forward.) or despair (I don't think things will ever changes.).

Courage and strength in a fallen world is one of the gifts Jesus came to give to us.  His heart was to bring healing in relationships, to provide hope when we are tempted to despair, to bring rest to our weariness, to give wisdom to our befuddlement and peace to our fearful hearts

One of my children was with a friend last week and they talked about how glad they had parents that were "Can do," parents. I asked her what they meant by this.

My child responded, "When we faced a challenge or difficulty or something we wanted to do, but couldn't afford, or had a dream that seemed impossible, you and my friend's parents all responded, "Let's see how we can accomplish your dreams, or make money to afford the costs of your activity. Or, I know that God loves you very much and this is a training grounds for you--let's trust Him to cause all of this difficulty to turn out for your good. Basically, you always gave us a way to live forward and to make progress or to find a solution."

We talked longer at the dinner table this week as a family about this concept and we came up with three basic responses to life we see in action as a grid for living life through many of our friends and colleagues.I can do it--we will find a way forward, we will trust God, we will take action, we will be obedient

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

I can do it grid of life.

--We will find a way forward, we will trust God, we will take action, we will be obedient.

I can't do it grid of life.

                     "There also we saw the Nephilim (the sons of Anak are part of the Nephilim); and                         we became like grasshoppers in our own sight, and so we were in their sight." Numbers 13:33

I give up, this is too much, I cannot overcome my past, I don't think there is a way forward, I just don't have the confidence of faith that I can overcome my circumstances or difficulties.

         (Becoming a grasshopper in our own eyes when facing giants happened to the leaders of Israel when             they faced the giants in the promised land.)

I won't do it grid of life. 

But Jonah got up and went in the opposite direction to get away from the LORD.  Jonah 1:3

I don't want to do it! I am not willing to pay the price of what obedience would cost me, I want to run my own life, I want God to do things my way, I am not willing to humble myself or to change

Of course these are simplistic descriptions of life and I cannot cover all the bases in one article. As you read this article, do you see yourself in one of these mindsets? Where are you in your faith-walk with God Midst your stressful journey of life?  Are you a "can do" or a "can't do" or a "won't do."

Jesus said, "In this world you have tribulation, (great stress). But, take courage, I have overcome the world." John 16:33

There is so much in scripture to address all of these attitudes--and perhaps we display all of these grids at different moments of our lives. But I believe that God wants us to learn, day by day, in all circumstances and relationships, to trust Him, to find courage in our hearts and to practice getting stronger in the power of His Holy Spirit, to live our stories faithfully, to move from chaos or fear to a place of order, productivity and peace of mind.

Because I have had so many letters, messages and emails lately about so many women's circumstances that seem overwhelming, I thought I would take the next few Monday's to go through Own Your Life on my podcasts. I will be taking one chapter a week and apply it to women's issues, marriage, motherhood, and a practical application for children.

Wherever you find yourself in life, whatever season, I will be including ideas about education, lots of scripture, applications to women in general and to moms alike.

My publishers even said they would put Own Your Life on sale on Kindle, and through all ebook stores so that those of you who do not have it could purchase it and study the book along with me--only one chapter a week. So I have connected this book below to a place where you can purchase Own Your Life on sale in all the places audio is sold. I have also included a connection to the physical book, as well  as the Bible study guide for each chapter with new stories, verses, questions and applications.

I hope this is of great encouragement to you. It has already been so very encouraging to me in the present circumstances of my own life as I have been preparing for this. Hope you also enjoy the podcast today where Kristen and I introduce this series which will begin next Monday. (We wanted to give you a chance to order the book if you do not already have it.)

Be inspired this summer to Own Your Life and to Own your life puzzle and circumstances in order to flourish right where you are. It is my hope that this series will refresh you as you take a break from the busy school year and breathe in God's grace right where you are.

The Book

The Study Guide and Planner

ON Kindle

http://amzn.to/1SX5vIC

Making Time for Delightful Play

The memory of camping out on our deck under an endless expanse of twinkling stars, aspen leaves shivering and whispering in the mountain breeze, staring into the vast canopy of space and squinting to see a fleeting shooting star, is still as vivid to me now as it was when our family experienced it so many years ago. Even in the midst of the overwhelming, nonstop craziness of our family life, those nights of sleeping out under the stars were transformative. The simple act of going outside and enjoying nature changed the entire tone of our life together.

In the bustle of a busy household, especially when people are overworked and tired, tempers tend to flare and unkind words are spoken. It happens to everyone, and it certainly happened to us— often.

In my urge to get things done, I would turn into a drill sergeant and the rest of the family, depending on their personalities, would rebel or turn sullen or simply disappear.

At such times, what we all needed was a vacation—time to rest, play, and escape the machine of busyness for a time. A vacation wasn’t always feasible, but we found that camping at home could be just the ticket to ease our stress and cool our irritations.

The night would invariably begin with pizza and root beer floats for the kids. We would take our meal outside and enjoy it in the cool, refreshing mountain air. Once done with dinner, the kids would take to our expansive yard, running wildly around playing flashlight tag as dusk descended. I would watch from the second- story deck with Clay, gazing out toward Colorado Springs. Our house at the time sat on a long ridge nestled up against the foothills of the Rockies, more than a thousand feet higher than most of the population in the city.

So when I looked out, I could see the whole metropolis spanning before me, the infinite lights sparkling below. Even after a few short minutes, I could feel myself relaxing, my spirit growing quieter.

(It was on one of these amazing evenings when four-year-old Joy said, “Mama, wif all dese lights in de sky sparkling, everybody can see Jesus is a good Artist.”)

My life in those days was hyper-focused on the mundane challenges in my immediate line of sight. But God wanted to show me that there was so much more of beauty, light, and life to be experienced just inches above the surface of my hectic life. I could not perceive it because the false lights of the world and the noisy voices of others had drowned out the beauty God meant for me. But He patiently waited for me with a world of beauty prepared to overwhelm my senses and transform my perspective.

Do you remember the story of Jesus’ friend Mary, who loved to hang out with her Lord, and of her hardworking sister Martha, who bitterly resented it? Martha complained, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone?” (Luke 10:40).

Jesus immediately understood what Martha needed most—and it wasn’t help with the housework! He answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her” (verses 41-42).

I have spent far too much of my life in Martha’s place of workaholic anxiety, lost in the maze of my worries. I always intend to enjoy each day, to enjoy time with my husband and children, to memorize the golden moments that make the love in our home so special to my heart.

But all too often I have just kept on trudging forward, obsessed with getting things done. By the time I begin to question whether I have truly captured the essence of God’s presence in a given day, I have already lost what could have been the joy of the Spirit moving in my life. How easy it is for me to focus on the to-do list and to miss what could be experienced and enjoyed.

The Ministry of Beauty in Your Home when Rest is Needed

Bumping through the clouds with the turbulence of a spring snow storm irritated my frazzled nerves as we neared the airport in Denver late Saturday night. With blowing snow, icy roads and streams of light flashing from hundreds of headlights, I prayed, "Please, Lord, let us get over the mountain pass without a wreck."

Though my spirit had soared through 3 speaking gatherings with precious, generous hearted women  in North Carolina, getting to bed after midnight each night had left me moving ahead slowly as we traveled to Philadelphia and two more ministry meetings. I had been home less than a week from England before this trip.

Watching my heart and mind from inside my spirit, I could see that I needed a rest and a couple of days to fall apart. We all have to step back some days in order to keep going forward.

Lighting several candles, the gas fireplace, (10 inches of new snow outside!), sipped warm coffee and had a tray light snacks to nibble, I settled into my couch covered in a warm blanket and snuggled up with a book, while my favorite music playlist wandered across my mental landscape. Somehow the beauty and rare quiet of the moment began to provide rest and an atmosphere of refueling I sorely needed.

Beauty and order in a home give a sense of stability and grace to a frazzled spirit. Home is my favorite place to be and ordering my life, and the lives of my family around familiar habits that give beauty and bring rest has served all of us for years amidst our busy ministry traveling schedule.

Pieces of family artifacts give familiar pleasure to our souls because they speak of family stability family comfort. All our little knick knacks have a story, a meaning to our family alone. Throughout our marriage, Clay and I have made it a habit to memorialize special events in our lives with something beautiful. On our honeymoon, we purchased a small pressed flower arrangement mounted between two pieces of glass that stood on attached legs. It has stayed with us all these years to remind us of God's love and care for us, as depicted in our marriage verse, "Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these" (Matthew 6:28-29, NASB).

Humanity's ability to appreciate beauty is a distinctive mark of God's image within us, much like our ability to use language. God made us to enjoy and benefit from beauty, whether in the things he created or in the things we create. In contrast to the common and crass things of this world, which have a negative effect on our spirits, we are naturally drawn to and find pleasure in expressions of beauty—majestic mountains, burning sunsets, starry heavens, captivating paintings, inspiring music, moving poetry. Beauty brings us closer to the Creator, whose very nature and presence is the ultimate expression of beauty.

I have filled my home with expressions of beauty because I need to stay in touch with that part of God's image within me. It is a reminder to me in the midst of so much that is common and dull that I live in a world created by a God of unadulterated beauty and unlimited creativity. Beautiful pictures on the walls, a creative centerpiece, a roaring fire, a bright spray of flowers, flickering candlelight at dinner, creative calligraphy, lovely books, classical music—all are ways that I can bring beauty into my home.

Even a small touch of beauty can minister to my spirit. Some years ago, a cranky washing machine died in the middle of the night. We were greeted the next morning by two inches of water covering the kitchen and living room floors. Every towel in the house was called into action to mop up the kitchen, and the living room soon became a disaster area with stuff and furniture piled in the center of the room. It was a mess.

At the end of that day, a friend brought me a small pot of beautiful petit roses. As I endured the mess in succeeding days, I drew pleasure from those lovely roses each time I passed them. In spite of the chaos surrounding them, I found myself refreshed by the flowers' beauty and loveliness.

I have found two keys that unlock the ministry of beauty in my home: to be creative in using beauty, and to take the time to admire it. To drink some tea is one thing; to savor a tea time with a creatively set table, candles, music, and a beautiful book is quite another.  A cup of tea may temporarily satisfy the palate, but a tea time can satisfy the soul if you take the time to unlock the beauty that is possible there, and to truly enjoy the person with whom you are sharing the moment. And to offer a friend or a child or husband, not only a cup of tea, but a tea time of close friendship will build deep threads of love between hearts.

Beauty keeps my spirit refreshed. Without it, my spirit becomes dull and lifeless; with it,I am invigorated and encouraged. God has certainly made beauty a priority in his universe, so I can imitate him by making room for beauty in my home.

What can you do today, this week, to make a memorable time with your child, your friend, your husband--all who may need refreshment to their souls. How about you? What anchors can you build into your life that will give you a mini-retreat along the way.

Be inspired with new ideas of how to do this in The Lifegiving Home.

You can find The Lifegiving Home on Amazon.re on Amazon!

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!