No Other Way

It’s likely the last six months of my life have been harder than anything I’ve encountered in the last 18 years. I wasn’t sure I would emotionally survive to ever make sense of it. And only now am I beginning to see the beauty in suffering.

Life is a Ski Hill

I am a wife, a mother, a speaker and a writer.  I am not a skier. 

This winter was my 14th time to suit up and brave the chair lift moving at approximately 88mph. On the eve of our adventure I never sleep well.  It’s not from the anticipated excitement, but because I am terribly nervous and tense. I get nauseous, restless and sometimes I give myself an upset stomach just thinking about it.  I’ve been to ski school at least twice and I could probably write a lengthy article about the techniques of proper ski control.  None of that translates into practical application for me. My leg, knees and ankles are uncooperative with the truth in my brain. My body is weak because it hasn’t been trained for this activity.

Parenting is Killing Me

I’ve said this countless times in the last 20 years. Some days I’m dying a slow death from frustration, embarrassment or all the other you-name-its that come with child rearing. It manifests either as a muttering under my breath because of irritation or discouragement, or an outburst when I simply can’t take the ridiculous chaos of life any longer and I forget to use my “inside voice”. Nagging about unmade beds, settling petty arguments among siblings, or the impossible task of reasoning with an immature teenager. It requires infinite effort on my part and it is draining the very life from my veins.  Parenting is killing me.

Keeping Up With Unrealistic

Lysa TerKeurst hurt my feelings. Oh yes she did.  And the Invisible Me actually slapped her. She didn't do it in a fifth-grade-mean-girl-way. But she stepped on every last nerve I had and now my heart is soft and I've cried most of the day. Thankyouverymuch, Lysa. I wasn't even wearing waterproof mascara. Way to go.

On a recent family vacation I took along her book, The Best Yes, to read in the car. (I'd highly recommend it for any woman who is breathing.) It was a message I knew I needed to hear.  Skipping across her words about the dangers of saying yes to everything that comes my way, I received her gentle warnings and instruction with ease.  Then she did something that made me consider throwing that adorable book cover out the window to its destructive death along Interstate-70.

Teach Them to Work

My teenagers do tough jobs around the house like cutting down dead trees, landscaping and moving heavy boxes to and from the attic.  My elementary school kids make their own bed and vacuum their room.  In teams of two, they rotate taking out the trash and unloading the dishwasher. They clean their bathroom, help with windows, and dust ceiling fans. Everyone in this house folds and puts away their laundry. Why? Because I am the mother. I am not the maid.

Kid Three Wants to Be Baptized

One of the greatest joys in this life is to see my children desire to follow Christ.  At nearly 8 years old, Kid Three has been asking to make this decision for quite a while.  We've held him off regarding baptism because we wanted to be sure he didn't just want to get into the 'big pool' and show off his mad water skills.

He persisted in his desire, stating over and over, "But my heart belongs to God and that is the next step."

I find myself wondering, is he old enough?