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Cherish the moment, they say…

February 21, 2011 by Kelli

I’m currently about 60 pages from completing Mary Beth Chapman’s book, Choosing to SEE. Have you read it? You really should. But I will give you a few warnings up front.

Have Kleenex at the ready because when she gets to the experience of losing her daughter Maria, unless you are a robot, you will likely cry and cry hard. I’m not sure I have ever sobbed quite so hard while reading a book before. Except maybe Jodi Picoult’s My Sister’s Keeper, which I read late at night while pregnant thereby setting myself up for disaster. Which leads me to my next point…
Do not, under any circumstances, read this book after 10:00 when you’re already tired and perhaps a bit emotional.

Consider yourselves warned.

Lee is currently out of town and I don’t know about you all, but when daddy is away in our home, the mice think they can play. That’s a metaphor, of course, the mice being our kids. Not real mice. If real mice were coming out to play, the kids and I would be at a hotel.

It’s tough when Lee’s not around. The kids need him. I need him. Every process becomes that much more difficult and without daddy’s firm voice, sometimes certain little ones forget how to behave. Particularly at bedtime.

I’ve heard so often that bedtime is a sweet time to enjoy your kids. “Lay down and talk with them,” the proverbial “they” say. “Enjoy those snuggle moments at bedtime while they’re young because when they’re grown those moments are gone.” Every time I hear that advice, I want someone to tell me how to enjoy bedtime and yet still get them to go to bed!

I’ll admit it. Bedtime is not my favorite time of the day. It’s hectic and stressful. The kids get wild and rambunctious. If I lay down and talk with one, all three have to pile in with us because “IT’S NOT FAIR” otherwise. I don’t get to lay and snuggle with just one.

On top of that, the older two share a room and to be quite honest, all I want is for them to go to sleep. If they had it their way, they’d have a wild party every night for a couple of hours before slipping into slumber. Which leaves me feeling like the Wicked Witch of the West in order to get them to be quiet and go to bed.

Last night was no exception. It had been the longest of long days and everyone was wiped. I knew they just needed to sleep and yet, once again, as soon as they got into their room the antics began. And I had to put a stop to it.

Then I read this from Mary Beth’s book

“How would I have lived differently if I knew that my time with Maria was going to be this short? Regretfully I would have lived much differently. I would have purposely hugged and kissed more. I would have tried to memorize and lock away in my heart certain smells and smiles. I would have colored more and worked less. I would have laughed more and fussed less.

Bedtime wouldn’t have become a chore to check off the list of things to get done. Instead it would have been more of an opportunity to listen about the day and offer whatever words were needed. The swimming pool wouldn’t have been too cold to swim in. The flowers in the garden would have all been pick, and definately more ice cream would have been consumed.” Mary Beth Chapman, Choosing to SEE.

I read this and I nod. This falls into line with the thought that we should live each day as if it’s going to be our last. And yet…

I can’t really live today like it’s going to be my last. If I knew for sure today would be my last day, I wouldn’t worry about mopping the floor or answering emails. (Okay, I actually just laughed out loud because I’m not worried in the slightest about mopping the floor. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I did that.) I wouldn’t be concerned with brushing the kid’s hair or what kind of food they ate. But the fact is, I have to cherish today as if it’s my last while still living like it’s not.

How do you cherish each fleeting moment with your kids knowing that you still have to keep routine? I want my kids to have fun with me and I want life to be full of laughter.

I also want to sleep.

I think it’s a balance. After being the heavy last night and then reading Mary Beth’s words, I felt a weight that I couldn’t shake. And so I went back to their room. They were finally calm and were close to slumber. I slipped my arms around each of them and squeezed tight reminding them that they were loved and cherished by me. With one last kiss, they both slipped into dreamland with the knowledge that their mom, even when she’s exhausted, loves them fiercely.

That’s the best we can do, right? “Cherish the moment,” they say. Well, sometimes the moment is tough to cherish, but the kids? It’s them that I cherish.

Filed Under: Family, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: cherishing our kids, Choosing to SEE, faith, live today as if it's your last, Mary Beth Chapman, Motherhood

The Waves

February 11, 2011 by Kelli

Have you ever watched the waves rolls in to shore and been mesmerized by the rhythmic swell and crash? Have you seen the way they slowly pull back from the shore, gathering in a mass, then tumbled in frothy praise to the sand?

I love that.

I love the sound of the water as it tumbles and rolls. It’s praise. And I feel like many times, my praises echo those of the sea. There is a welling up of my soul and it gathers with momentum, then peaks and crashes forward, spilling praise at the feet of the throne.

Sometimes the wave of praise is large – a culmination of fear, heartache, struggle or simply gratitude. It’s a tidal wave of praise that builds up slowly and spills over with force.

Sometimes the waves of praise are smaller, but they are consistent. An ever present gathering and rolling of white tipped praise that cannot be quelched or contained.

Sometimes, though, there is no praise. I am still. Like the ocean on a clear, calm morning, I sit stagnant. At times this stillness is a good thing. I am listening. I’m waiting for the whispers. And if I listen for long enough, I usually end up bursting forth with that tidal wave of praise again.

But, unfortunately, many times the stillness is a result of not listening. It’s a result of stepping away, checking out or simply being lazy. I might send forth a ripple here and there, but the waves of praise stall. This is how the ocean begins to dry up.

I don’t like this place.

Several years ago, as I was in a place of frustration, I penned a short phrase that has stayed with me since.

Used have brilliant words to sing

Now I drift like the wave

I crash to the shore

Then I quickly pull away

I miss sitting at Your Feet

Listening to your tender words so sweet

How I long to surrender

To Thee, Precious Lord

I long for Your presence in me.

I wrote those words in a journal late one night, while the rest of the world slept and my mind churned like the unsettled ocean. It was a time when I felt distant from the Lord. A time when I felt like the stagnant sea. In a burst of emotion I would offer up my praise, then, as quickly as the wave began, it pulled away and the ocean of my soul grew stagnant again.

Lately, these words have been spinning in me again – but in the right way this time. It’s a good place to be. I kind of like this contemplative state of mind. It helps me sit still and wait and, ultimately, the waves of praise will bubble forth yet again.

We’re in a blessed place as a family. But…Sometimes a good place gives way to complacency. I’m fighting it. Really, really fighting it. Because now I have the opportunity to spill forth with grateful praise. I don’t want to miss that opportunity! I don’t want to be content stagnant. And so I stop, and I think.

Shaun Groves wrote about this yesterday. It spoke right to my heart, confirming the emotions already stirring. I love the written word – especially when paired with a beautiful melody.

These are the things on my heart today.

And, obviously, I’ve got the beach on the brain…

Filed Under: faith Tagged With: faith, God, Praise

Mind the Gap

February 8, 2011 by Kelli

Summer '09 147

Praying for my kids is something I passionately believe in and often forget to do on a consistent basis. I pray for patience with them (six snow days later, that’s almost become a mantra) and I pray for grace to love them well, but I don’t always pray for them.

I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s because to do so would require me to slow down and really get still. I’m not good at that. I hate sitting still. Unless I’m on a beach.

Maybe that’s what we need! We need to move to the beach. My kids would be covered in prayer then. And I’d be tan…

Wait. That’s not right. Scratch that.

The point is, I’m not good at sitting down and really pleading on behalf of my children. I have great days followed by a plateau of mediocrity and on and on the cycle goes. But the desire of my heart remains unchanged. I long to see my kids grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man. I long to see them grow beyond a head knowledge of who Christ is and to develop a heart knowledge of Him.

I long to not screw them up.

I think my most consistent prayer for my kids is my pleading with the Lord to fill in the gaps where I am lacking as a parent. On the days when I’m impatient, crabby, tired or just not all there like they need me to be, I pray that the Lord steps in and makes whole any damage I may have unintentionally caused.

This is not an excuse for me to be lackadaisical in my parenting.

Lackadaisical…that’s a great word, isn’t it?

I wake up every morning desiring to be the mother my kids need me to be. I wake up every morning with a prayer on my heart to love my kids in a way that honors God and shows them they are blessed, cherished and loved. And, in the moments that I fail, I ask the God fill in the gaps where I am lacking.

And then I rest in the assurance and knowledge that He loves my kids more than I could ever possibly hope to.

How do you pray for your kids? Do you have specific verses that you pour over them? Do you have a specific place or way that you pray for your kids? If you feel comfortable sharing, I would love to hear how you are praying over your children in an attempt to encourage and spur one another on.

Happy Tuesday!

Filed Under: faith, Family, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: faith, Motherhood, praying for your children

The Journey

November 15, 2010 by Kelli

No, I’m not going to bust out in a radical version of Don’t Stop Believin’. Although if I still had make up on, it wasn’t 11:10 at night and my FlipCam was close by, I might have considered it.

Nope…I’m talking about a different kind of journey. On Friday I shared with you the struggles and insecurities I’m feeling as my career climbs ever so slightly and the inner battles that wage within. I received great, wonderful, supportive comments from many of you. I also received a couple of phone calls and a few emails filled with encouragement.

All of this encouragement began squeezing at my heart, which then overflowed in prayer. How am I to feel about all of this? How do I respond to the obvious passions and desires of my heart when opportunity presents itself? And how do I balance those with the obligations and love I have for my family?

A conversation I had on Sunday solidified in my heart my need for serious reflection on this matter. I found myself encouraging a new friend to pursue her own passions. I heard myself tell her that God doesn’t want us to live in fear. He has given this girl obvious talents and passions and she yearns to pursue them, but there is that nagging little thing called practicality. It is telling her that pursuing her passions, even to the glory of God, means giving up a tiny bit of security and safety. Not that I think I know what’s best for her life, by any means, but I do know that when I see someone who longs and desires to pursue a passion I’m going to do everything in my power to encourage her to do it without shame and or fear.

I need to have a talk with the girl who stares back at me from the mirror…

Practicality is a good thing. Practicality keeps food on the table and money in the bank. Practicality makes sure that should your two year old topple off his stool in the middle of dinner, you can walk into an ER and get his broken arm plastered up without fear of losing your home to medical bills.

Not that we know anything about that, of course…

As we drove home from church Sunday afternoon, I relayed the discussion to Lee and I could almost hear his brain explode inside his skull. Because he’s been telling me this for years.

I am trapped in practicality. But the problem with my practicality is that it isn’t the good kind. It’s not the kind that is really truly doing my family any good. It’s really just my excuse to not try too hard. If I don’t try too hard to succeed, I sure as heck don’t have to worry about failing.

Nice, huh?

Except it’s not.

The thing that baffles me about all this is the fact that I didn’t use to be this way. This fear based practicality was birthed the second I became a mother. Suddenly I found myself afraid to dream anymore for fear I might shove them all toward costly psychiatrist bills when they’re older. Because we all know that it’s always the mom’s fault, right?

Here’s the thing: this is not the place we were designed to live. This is not where I was designed to live. None of us were meant to hide behind practicality – to use it as a shield to hide us from the world. Sometimes practicality is entirely impractical. It’s not always wise to be practical. God didn’t design us to live in fear, insecurity and guilt. He designed us to walk freely, unashamed and with passion. And passion is rarely ever practical. Think of the greatest leaders and innovators in history – very few of them operated in passive practicality. Most of them threw caution to the wind and surrendered to their dreams.

Think of Christopher Columbus. Sailing around the world was not practical, especially when the prevailing thought was that the world was flat. But he tossed practicality over the side of his ship and sailed forth, driven by passion and a good deal of gumption. Or what about a group of five men who, in 1956, risked everything to minister to a group of people known as the Woadani deep in the Amazon only to end up being brutally murdered by the people they so desperately wanted to help? Was it practical to transplant their families to that region? It could even be argued that that was unwise…unless you know the end of the story when Jim Elliot’s son returned and forever altered the future of the people who slayed his father.

Of course, wisdom must play a role. But wisdom and practicality are different aren’t they? Practicality is a dross around the neck of passion. Wisdom is the wings which give passion flight. Wisdom allows us to pursue passions with the knowledge that even if we don’t succeed (as the world sees success), we certainly can’t call ourselves failures. Because how can we fail? Hasn’t the battle already been won on our behalf?

Sometimes, of course, wisdom and practicality must go hand in hand. It would be both unwise and impractical for me to pursue a career as a professional surfer. There are a number of reasons for this, one of the more prevalent ones being I live in Missouri…not a lot of ocean to be found. I also have to be sure that the things I pursue are supported by Lee. It is not wise or practical to chase a dream without my husband’s full support. I will never succeed that way.

If, however, I do have the full support of my husband and I step out in faith, wisely seeking direction along the way, then haven’t I already experienced success, even if I don’t accomplish that which I set out to accomplish? What about the journey I took? What about the things I learned on the path? If the journey leads to deeper faith, new experiences and greater wisdom, then tell me where exactly the failure lies?

The truth that has taken root inside my heart these last few days is so simple, yet also a bit complex: If I am willing to embrace my dreams, without guilt or fear, perhaps that alone is the success I am to find. And what a journey that would be…

Don’t stop. Believin’. Hold on to that feeeeeeelin’.

Huh…look at that – the song fits after all.

Righteous.

Filed Under: Family, Lee, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: chasing dreams, faith, living with passion, Practicality vs. Wisdom, The Journey

Dream a Little Dream

October 13, 2010 by Kelli

I am a dreamer. A day dreamer, night dreamer, all the time dreamer. A dreamer with an active imagination. With all this dreaminess there is often quite a bit of disappointment. Because dreams don’t always come true. Of course, the fulfillment of dreams all depends on how you view things.

When I was little I dreamed of being a famous actress. This is a common dream for most young girls, I suppose. At least most young girls who like to be on stage…and I did like to be onstage. I learned at a young age, though, that being famous would mean a lot of elbowing around, jockeying for position in a pool filled with talent. I may be a dreamer, but I’m not a big fighter. It only took a few experiences of rejection to scare me away. Maybe I should have tried harder, but the fact is this dream was just that – a dream. It wasn’t a passion. You have to have dreams combined with passion to power through that type of rejection.

As a young adult, I was made aware of a tiny little gift I had with words. That’s nicer than saying I am long winded and just happen to be able to spin my wordiness in a way that’s comprehesible, right? About this time I did my first Beth Moore Bible Study and I determined that I would one day write Bible studies like Beth Moore. I dreamed of holing myself up for hours at a time with nothing but my Bible and computer.

It didn’t take me long to realize that God created only one Beth Moore. That’s not to say I couldn’t write a Bible study or two someday, but trying to match the spunk and verve with which Beth Moore writes is like saying I’m going to go out and be a 7 time Tour de France winner like Lance Armstrong. Just because I can ride a bike doesn’t mean I can win the race, ya know?

As I’ve gotten more mature (notice I didn’t say older) my dreams have evolved a bit. I dream more realistically. I dream about what my children will think of me when they’re grown. I hope it’s good things as a result of happy memories. I dream of seeing my children grow and mature in wisdom and knowledge. I dream about what they will be like/look like/act like as teenagers and adults. (Sometimes I fear this to!) I dream of where life will lead us as a family. I dream about the experiences I want to give my kids – where I want to take them, what I want to expose them to, who I want them to see and meet.

I dream of living in a mansion and having two maids – one to clean my house and the other to do my laundry. I dream of handing my personal shopper a grocery list and having her return an hour later with bags in tow, then handing them to the cook who prepares all our meals for us. I dream of the private jet that will shuttle us to our private island in the Carribbean…

Um…not all of my grown up dreams are realistic.

I do dream of exposing my kids to a world outside their own. I dream of taking mission trips as a family. I dream about serving our local community together as a family. I dream about introducing my children to the concept of missions in a real and tangible way, passing along the heritage that is so rich in our family’s history.

I dream of sleeping through the night.

I dream of having a greater involvement in the Russian culture with my children beyond simply teaching them the language. I dream of having a greater impact through my writing beyond simply sharing the mundane moments of our days. Even when the mundane moments are pretty funny.

For example as we drove in the car yesterday Sloan asked me when our dog, Sadie, would have puppies. I told him she wouldn’t because she was fixed to not have puppies when she was a baby. “Oh,” he said. “Did you fix her because it’s so messy and gross for dogs to have puppies?” “Um…” I answered. “Yeah,” he continued. “When dogs have puppies they shoot ’em out all goopy and black…like a rocket.”

I dream of better monitoring what my children see on TV.

I dream of touring Europe with my husband…. I can check that one off the list! The only problem is now that I’ve done it once I dream of doing it again and again. Gonna have to reign that one in.

I like dreaming. Sometimes it’s all that gets me through the long days. Other times, however, it breeds discontentment so I have to keep the dreaming in check and be as realistic as I can, while still allowing the occasional hope to peek through (like the private maid and personal chef – I’m not letting go of that one too easily). The thing with dreams is that so often you can look back and see God’s hand in them and see how they came true. Sometimes they are realized in a way that’s a bit different than you imagined, but often they’re even better than what you imagined.

Dreams are good. Dreams are scary. Dreams sometimes require action. And that may be the scariest part of all. I can’t sit back and lay out my dreams before God and then wait for Him to make them happen. Sometimes I might have to chase a dream without knowing if I’m supposed to trusting full well that He will make that clear to me in time. This sometimes requires a rather frightening leap of faith.

The best part about trusting God with your dreams is looking back and realizing He gave you far more than you could have asked or imagined. Even in the heartaches of the past, I see how He carefully wove the fabric of my life to bring about the fruition of dreams I didn’t even dare to dream. Perhaps that’s easy for me to say as my life is abundantly blessed. I would be remiss if I didn’t confess that there are hidden heartaches and unrealized dreams that are hard to let go of. But if I’m willing to look beyond those circumstances and really stare into the face of what’s before me I could say this without a single doubt:

My life is a dream come true. And I never even tried to dream this up.