Mission

 "There is inherent magic at the intersection of God's calling for our lives and what makes us feel truly alive. If you travel the path toward what makes you feel most alive, and get to know God along the way, changes are you'll eventually find yourself at that magic intersection."

Peanut and I have not been back in church since Christmas of 2019.

She got sick over that holiday, we took some time off to recover from all the germs, and then well, pandemic.

Peanut and I have diligently had "church" every Sunday morning. We talk a walk in nature, we do a few virtual worshipping options, I do a lesson with her on character or emotional wellness, and we do some sort of application of all of that.

Honestly probably more in depth and devoted than in the days we went to a church building.

But ........there's always a but right? ...........

But I've been feeling tugged in the last few weeks, now fully vaccinated, to evaluate our worship approach and decide what to do moving forward.

Little "c" church is hard.

The building with the people.

I would attest that NO little "c" church ever fits the complete bill for what you need in your spiritual health.

And that EVERY little "c" church has at least one set of folks that has not treated you as you feel you deserve or need to be treated.

So sometimes I come to the conclusion that we just don't go to the little "c" church.

Peanut woke up Sunday morning crying.

"Mama, I'm very sad."

"Mama, I'm not good enough to be your daughter."

Once I caught my footing, I questioned "Where in the world would you get the idea that you are not enough?"

She didn't know.

Woke up with that idea in her heart and was unbearingly sad about it.

I stumbled a bit, reassured her that no she was not perfect, but neither was I.

That she was most definitely fearfully and wonderfully made. She was ENOUGH.

Always.

We ventured out on our morning walk to regroup and breathe fresh air and I firmly felt that tug.

Peanut needs community.

Peanut needs other people to tell her she is fearfully and wonderfully made. Peanut needs to see Jesus in action in other places.

I began to question - what little "c" church do I take Peanut to?

My main hesitation with taking Peanut to church honestly is that I don't want other people screwing up the Jesus I've painted for her.

The most important thing to me is that the Jesus in the Bible, the one I worship, is the one that the children's church folks tell her about.

I will find people who make mistakes in every building.

I will be one of those people.

I don't need the right programs or activities.

I simply need other people to care that Peanut knows she is enough.

So Peanut and I put on our summer church clothes and we headed out.

I settled Peanut into her class, I took my seat in the sanctuary. I took my shoes off and thanked Jesus for showing up for me.

Yet again.

Mama Warriors, I don't necessarily think a church building on Sunday is the only place you can gift your kids other people who will point them to Jesus and tell them they are enough.

I do think our kids need community.

I do think you will never find a perfect church.

So maybe, rather than waiting to find the right program, or to never be left out an activity, or love every sermon, maybe you find a church that has the same mission you do.

And you gift it some grace that like any relationship, there will be ups and downs.

But you remember that the mission is more important than the bumps.

Mission minded people can extend grace and navigate differences.

Glory Story

 "Be more concerned for God's glory than your relief."

Peanut has one of the most joyful spirits of anyone I know.

She's a glass half full. All the time.

Peanut however did inherit her mother's "Norman Rockwell complex."

You see we both picture how a scenario is going to play out and then end up disappointed when it doesn't go exactly picture perfect.

This summer we've been working our way through this book "What to Do When You Grumble Too Much."

We've been working on how we respond when Plan A doesn't go well.

Before we begin a craft, activity, game, we talk about - "What can do we if we have a hard time following the craft directions?" "What can we do if the tower falls down?" "What should you do if you are losing the game?"

We discuss our Plan B before we ever execute Plan A.

Like many of the emotional health activities I do with Peanut, this one has been soul filling for me as well.

I'm thinking through my Plan B (and let's be honest a few more letters down the alphabet) and reassuring myself that even if this falls apart, I'll be okay.

I read a story this week about a mother whose child has a terminal illness.

When asked if she prays for a cure, she responded

"Of course. I pray for a cure - or something greater."

She refers to this story of theirs as a "glory story" even though there is still no cure.

I think we get so focused on Plan A , a cure, a fix, an end, that we forget there could be something greater.

A glory story.

Mama Warriors, one of the most important things we can do for our own, and our kids, emotional health is to make room in life for Plan B, C, and even Z.

Not only does this teach our kids grit and resilience (two skills sorely lacking in many of today's youth), but it also teaches our kids that there is a glory story possible.

Even if the craft doesn't look like the picture on the box, I can be proud of my creativity and effort and how I made it my own.

Even if the tower collapses before I get Rapunzel in the top, I can learn from what didn't work and be a better builder next time.

Even if I lost the game, I can be thankful for the time my family had to gather to play.

Even if Plan A isn't the story, my story can be a glory story.

Through

 "You are not the sum of your doubts.

Struggle is where we are made strong."

Peanut and I started each day this week at swim lessons.

Eat the frog first right?

Yesterday after the last swim lesson, Peanut and I sat in Dunkin Donuts celebrating with chocolate donuts. We played one of her favorite games, Set. We laughed, we raced to find sets, we lingered in a sugar high.

We had this BIG talk there on the orange and pink stools of the Dunkin.

There will always be hard things.

Life gives us challenges to grow us, to change us, to teach us and to inspire us.

It's a given.

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;"

The darkest valley.

It's right there.

But I think we get fixated sometimes on the darkest valley part and miss the big thing before.

THROUGH

We are not intended to stay in the darkest valley.

We are intended to pass THROUGH.

I think to get out of the darkest valley is where the struggle is. The hard.

And sometimes, let's face it most of the times, it's easier just to set up camp in the valley.

It's easier to say "This is where I live. Change my address to 101 Valley Road."

Peanut is stuck in this BIG fear about water.

It would be easy to say "Peanut you can live in this valley with the fear about water. "

Because to get Peanut THROUGH the valley is hard.

It's stressful and challenging and relationship stretching.

But Peanut, nor you or I, are destined to live IN the valley.

We have to do the hard work and move THROUGH.

Many times I think we just don't know how. We are sitting in the valley praying and waiting.

Waiting for God to do ALL the work.

The verse doesn't say God will lift you up and set you on high ground.

It says "you are with me."

Getting out of your valley is going to take spiritual warfare. You are going to have to fight for YOU.

You have to decide that you are going THROUGH the valley. And take the first step.

Mama Warriors, if you are starting today in a deep valley, know you are not alone.

Much like getting Peanut through her valley, you need action, you need prayer, you need to seek wise counsel and support and you need to decide you are going THROUGH.

You need to accept that THROUGH is on His timing.

Which may be the hardest part.

But I think too often we say "Okay God, I'll just sit here in the valley until you get me out."

When we should say , "Okay God, I'll keep walking THROUGH the valley until it's time to rise above it."

THROUGH means growing, changing, challenging and loving.

THROUGH means finding time to celebrate the small steps.

THROUGH means embracing that THROUGH will happen.

Endurance

 "Enthusiasm is common. Endurance is rare." Angela Lee Duckworth

Peanut is tackling swim lessons this week.

Despite many summers of working with her ourselves, we have not been able to get Peanut to go UNDER the water. We have called in the professionals .

Peanut loves her teachers. She's super proud of her floating skills. She's tried lots of new things this week.

She will not however go under water.

Peanut and I have talked a lot this week about how we can do hard things.

How we can have BIG feelings about something new and different, but we can tell our brain to tell our body that we are safe, we are brave, and we can do hard things.

We can do the hard thing WITH the fear.

If we wait for the fear to subside, we will never do the hard thing.

Peanut is not convinced.

As I've wrestled this week with the balance between making swimming fun and positive, and the safety aspect of how I know she will freak out if she falls into the water and can't touch, I know this is one, of the many, aspects of parenting where I have to put her safety first.

Getting her comfortable in the water is an endurance game.

This short week of swim lessons models for me the activities and goals and introduces them to Peanut.

Getting her actually swimming is going to be the long game.

I was thinking this morning as I watched Peanut proudly show off her floating skills how many of us are enthusiastic Christians.

We show up for the swimming lessons.

But once the classes are over, we are done practicing.

Church on Sunday but by the Walmart parking lot on Sunday afternoon we are honking and yelling at the other drivers because they took "our" space.

Enthusiasm is showing up for the sermon.

Endurance is living in the Light.

Mama Warriors, parenting is full of moments where enthusiasm isn't enough. You need endurance.

Enthusiasm is buying the Peppa the pig panties or Spiderman underwear.

Endurance is potty training.

Enthusiasm is standing in line at the DDS while they take the driver's ed test.

Endurance is teaching them to drive the car.

Endurance is rarely pretty.

Endurance is exhausting and messy and where all the hard growing happens.

You were made to endure.

Pruning

 "This is where God meets me, in the hard stuff. And I am not defined by the hard thing, but by the ONE who walks me through it."

Last night we walked with Peanut down to the end of our street so she could see fireworks. For once, I'll be grateful to the random neighbors who shoot them off because crowds and parking nightmares aren't my thing.

As we stood there, next to this tree, I looked a Peanut's face as she saw her first firework.

A look of pure joy.

Her eyes got big, her mouth dropped off, and this smile spread ear to ear.

We stood there at this literal intersection of our street and the main drag and I realized that Sweet Daddy and I met the summer I turned 19.

The summer of 1994.

The year he graduated from high school and I had finished my first year of college. The year of the white bronco chase. The year we learned to say life is like a box of chocolates in a deep southern accent. The year we first met Ross and Rachel, Chandler and Monica, Joey and Phoebe.

We would be come best friends somewhere between 1994 and Christmas of 1997, the day we started dating.

As we walked back to the house, chasing Peanut with her glow stick necklaces swinging, I could see our home. I could see my two teenagers and a bonus child sprawled out on our sidewalk. I felt my hand securely in Sweet Daddy's.

I thought about this tree.

Every year my neighbor's children come and trim the trees down to the very base of the trunk.

It's always sad to me. They go from being full and colorful to bare, brown stumps in one afternoon.

For months they sit bare. No growth.

But then, they grow back. Fuller than before. Somehow prettier than before. They stand taller.

As I looked at my own beautiful mess yesterday I realized that life, for me, has also been this gardening circle.

Seasons of great pruning.

Seasons of hard, slow growth.

Seasons of beautiful blossoming.

Without the pruning, without the growth, there is no beautiful blossoming.

But I only want the blossoms.

That's normal right?

I stood there gazing at our own 19 year old, and remembering that when we were 19 is where this adventure began.

At 19, you can only see the pruning and the blossoms.

The hard times and the good times.

I've learned there is this great, green growing space between the hard and the good.

The growing.

It's in the growing we are forced to wrestle with the hard.

Mama Warriors, I pray that you learn to embrace the great, green growing season.

That you know that sometimes in order to live the FULL life He intends for us, that we need to be stripped back down to the bare basics.

So we find our footing.

So our roots grow stronger without so much to carry.

So that one day, we will blossom again.

Push and Hold

 "Jesus was often busy but never hurried. Moreover, he seemed to be quick to detect hurry-sickness in others. Once when he had sent his disciples out on a mission, they returned to him to report what they had done and taught. Imagine being one of Jesus' closest followers given the privilege of sharing his message of love and forgiveness. You just completed a big assignment successfully and are probably a little jazzed about what your next mission will be. It's not like there isn't a lot of work to be done. So many needy people came to Jesus that, according to the Bible, he didn't have a chance to eat. So what assignment does Jesus give his willing followers?

"Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest." "

Our home has builder grade toilets. The older I get the more often I think that they are too short among other things.

Frequently one of my children comes to me to tell me the toilet "won't flush."

Or, worse, I come upon a not flushed toilet and discover myself that the toilet "didn't flush."

On our toilets, you must push down the lever AND hold it down until the toilet begins to flush. Then you can let up.

You can't merely quickly push it and go - no, it will not flush then.

I've give countless tutorials on the "push and HOLD" method of flushing.

People still push and go.

The results of that never match the intention.

I've been struggling this summer with finding a rhythm that restores my soul. One that fills my well. I can't seem to find the right books to read, the right podcasts/sermons to listen to, the routines to find my grounding.

I keep shifting and changing the routine trying to find the "fix" to finding delight.

As I stood there this morning, pushing and holding this toilet lever, I realized that maybe God is waiting for me to push AND hold.

Maybe this rhythm I'm trying out is okay and I just haven't HELD on.

I'm desiring the quick fix. Push and go.

He's waiting for me to push AND hold.

So, I'm going to trust that the new rhythm is the right one and lean into the wait.

Mama Warriors, maybe you are in a season of push and go and expecting results. Change.

I challenge you to shift your mindset.

Push and HOLD.

Wait for Him to answer.

He will.