More. Not Less.

 "When we pray the prayer....your kingdom come, your will be done.

We are involving ourselves in the process but we are not required for the outcome

God is not limited by us."

It's no secret that I am not summer's biggest fan.

I hate the heat. Yes, hate is the right word.

I'm also not a fan of the endless days without the structure of our regular schedule.

Over the last few weeks, I've had a work contract and Peanut has had more time solo than she's used to.

She's slowly inched from my very firm screen limits into using her screen for things I don't typically consider screen usage.

Reading, listening to audiobooks, drawing.

But what I realized this weekend was that Peanut's default was becoming headphones and a kindle screen.

And I noticed that based on the behaviors I was observing.

Less eye contact. Shorter tone. Frustration when asked to put away a screen ("I'm almost done. I need a few more minutes." Endlessly). Struggles with non screen activities - less grit, less problem solving, less ability to be creative, less imaginative.

Less, less, less.

Here's the thing.

None of this is Peanut's fault.

I KNOW that we are better people when we live a mostly screen free life.

I KNOW that our family is kinder, more connected, and healthier when we have much less screen time.

I chose to ignore that because I got busy working and the summer days are long.

Not intentionally......but in little slips each day.

I'm the one that has to set the boundaries for Peanut until she learns to set them herself.

I'm the one that has to hold Peanut accountable.

So, this weekend we had a hard conversation and we've put all screens away for a while.

I've given no set time that I'm returning them.

And have shared that if/when they are returned, there will be accountability and limits.

I've reminded her that in our home screens are a tool.

Not a lifestyle.

Our lifestyle is to speak kindly to each other. Our lifestyle is to use our creativity. Our lifestyle is to move our bodies. Our lifestyle is be fully present.

In just 48 hours she's a different kid.

There's less of that tween angst (it's not all gone, I won't give you false hope). There's more paper and pencil and swinging and swimming and laughing and talking.

There's more.

Not less.

Mama Warriors, I think sometimes we lose sight of who we, or are our kids are, because we slide down this slippery slope.

We all start with good intentions and then we let convenience be our guide.

It's easier for me to text you than to call you.

But which provides a more meaningful interaction?

It's easier for me to scroll your social media than sit with over coffee to catch up on your life.

But which provides a more meaningful connection?

What will provide more?

Not less.

Consider a New Hero

 God Would Kneel Down

I think God might be a little prejudiced.

For once He asked me to join Him on a walk

through this world,

and we gazed into every heart on this earth,

and I noticed He lingered a bit longer

before any face that was

weeping,

and before any eyes that were

laughing.

And sometimes when we passed

a soul in worship

God too would kneel

down.

I have come to learn: God

adores His

creation. - Daniel Landinsky

This week I had the opportunity to work in a few different settings as I was out dropping off/picking up Peanut from her volunteer position.

Though the work was the same, the view was different each day as I tried out different spots in our community.

It's interesting how a change of scenery can change your perspective.

While at home, my view is my messy house, my barking dog, and my cluttered dining room table.

I often feel like my work is taking me from the other things that need to be done.

While working outside the home this week, I felt a new sense of thankfulness for work. For provision. For the ability to do good work remotely and on my own time schedule.

It was no longer an inconvenience but a gift.

I'm still slowly making my way through the Proverbs 31 bible study this summer. This week we read in Genesis 16 about Sarah and Hagar.

My bible study text asserts that Sarah was so "selfless" and shares of the times Sarah sacrifices for the "good" of her family. We are to glean from Sarah (they say) about how to be a good Proverbs 31 woman.

Selflessness apparently has its limits as Sarah ends up sending Hagar away after asking her to produce an heir for her husband.

(side note - if you haven't listened to the bible with your children - there's a lot of "Abraham went into Hagar" type stuff going on - which is a good moment to stop and consider consent and a wealth of other topics)

She's now threatened by this relationship. Jealous. The text asserts that Sarah's selflessness is something to be admired. That it's Sarah who is the role model here.

As is typical, the lesson the bible study is presenting isn't the one I gleaned.

What if we took this story and we looked at not from Sarah's point of view but from Hagar's? What if we changed the scenery? What if we "worked" the story through a different lense?

Abraham and Sarah can't have a child. So they come up with their own solution. Abraham talks. Sarah talks. Neither God nor Hagar talk.

When things become difficult, Sarah jumps ship. She's "all done" as my toddlers used to announce. If you don't like something, get rid of it. She sends Hagar away.

Here we see Hagar talk. And then we see God talk.

We see God recognize the immigrant. The refugee. The slave. We see God give them a voice. And honor it.

We see how things have always been done challenged. Questioned. Changed.

We see a God of radical love.

What if the hero isn't Sarah for being selfless (questionable at best) but what if it's Hagar for seeing God for who He really is and being the first biblical character to recognize a God who sees the lost and suffering?

Mama Warriors, I am most certainly not a biblical expert and won't ever tell you there is "one" way to read/understand a story.

I will challenge you as you read anything to think about the scenery? Would the story read differently if you considered someone else the hero? Would the lesson look different?

Is there space for the outsiders to be the hero in the version of the story that you write?

As we continue through a political election year, I ask that you do the same thing.

With each big issue, can you sit for a minute and view the story through a different lens?

Can you consider the view from those less fortunate, refugees, immigrants, single moms, etc. ?

Can you consider it through the lens of not just Sarah but Hagar?

Can you make space for a different hero?

Let's Be Better

 "The fear of being different is a terrible reason for a parent to avoid doing what her child needs her to do."

This morning Sweet Daddy took Peanut on a hike. She was super excited. Daddy daughter date to do one of her favorite things!

In Sweet Daddy's haste to caution her to watch for snakes, he instead concerned her. Peanut was very nervous about the hike and the possibility she may be injured by a snake.

Sweet Daddy tried to educate her about types of snakes, likelihood of her being injured by a snake, etc. She was still nervous.

While the reality of her being bitten by a snake was slim, it was still a very real worry for her.

Our first experience with anxiety therapy was by far the most helpful and educational for me. Our Xman was five years old and weekly we made the trek to Athens to meet with trained UGA psychologists and doctoral students.

On our first visit Marnie, our counselor, said to me "If he is worried or anxious about something,it is REAL to him. It doesn't matter if it is real to you or not."

That totally changed my approach to trying to help him.

You see we had spent a solid three years before that trying to reason with why he shouldn't be anxious.

We then switched gears and could say "This makes you nervous. That's okay. " And use our strategies to move forward.

I'm watching in my social media feed as we debate and argue and justify where we all stand on digital versus in person, masks versus no masks, the data, social justice, the everything.

Anytime I comment on any of these topics,within about 3 minutes I regret it. It always ends in a spiral of comments defending, justifying or arguing. Always.

I'm not going to debate the COVID crisis with anyone. My personal count is upwards of 20 now and my position will never be exactly the same as you.

Because my prayer list isn't the same as yours.

I am willing to have this conversation though - if the concern is real for someone else, it's real.

Whether you think it is or not.

Whether it's a real concern for you or not.

And when something is a real concern for someone else, the only right response is empathy.

If your child's teacher is concerned about returning to in person schooling, the worry is real for them.

If your neighbor is concerned about their mother shopping at Walmart, the worry is real for them.

If your friend is concerned about returning to church in person, the worry is real for them.

And when our people are worried, we don't say "You shouldn't worry about that."

Instead we say "I hear that you are concerned."

No but.

I think there's a blurry line between trying to "educate" each other into our viewpoint and making judgments about where others stand.

Mama Warriors, we don't have to share the same fears in order to have empathy for each other.

Tomorrow morning I have a dentist appointment. If you know me well, you know that I've already been anxious about this appointment for the entire six weeks it has been on the calendar.

I rationally understand that most of you go to the dentist for all these procedures without batting an eye. That for the majority of the population it is nothing that I should be worried or concerned about.

But I am.

For me, it exists.

In part because of my previous experiences, which are different than yours. But also just because it's who I am.

I don't tell people how anxious I get because I am often met with "oh,you'll be fine."

Let's be better with each other than "oh,you'll be fine."

Let's love our neighbors truly as ourselves.

Let's pour out empathy and kindness.

Compassion.

Let's rise above debating whether concerns are necessary and accept that for some, they exist. And therefore for those people they are real.

Let's love each other.

Not in Spite Of.

 "Surrender is not giving up. It's giving access." Father Mike

I glanced over during church this week and smiled as I saw the row of bracelets on Peanut's arm. They go from her wrist nearly to her elbow most days.

A few weeks ago the Princess surprised Peanut with an evening of snacks and bracelet making with some of her friends.

She, and her friends, stepped into Peanut's world for a few hours.

While those bracelets currently boast the names of her favorite characters and OC (for those not parenting an artsy kid "Original Creations"), they represent far more.

At a glance, they remind Peanut that she is fearfully and wonderfully loved for her uniqueness.

Not in spite of.

For.

They are tangible symbols of something that Peanut may forget some days as she navigates the waters of tweendom and middle school in the years to come.

I stopped wearing my wedding rings a long time ago. For a variety of reasons the rings no longer fit.

Peanut asked me about it one time. Didn't I want people to know I was married?

I know I'm married. I didn't need the ring to tell me that.

However, about a year ago I bought a set of silicone rings (highly recommend for those who want a durable but comfortable wedding band). I started wearing my new "wedding ring" like jewelry.

You know to church and special outings but not everyday.

I realized as I looked down at my own hand this past Sunday, sporting my silver band, that it serves as a tangible reminder to me.

I'm not in this amusement park riding all these scary roller coasters by myself.

I'm part of a team.

I'm loved for the fearfully wonderfully unique person I am.

Not in spite of.

For.

We've recently joined a church that has a lot of physical symbols and rituals.

I've taken some criticism for what some feel like is a "show."

Much like if you view Peanut's bracelets, or my wedding ring, you'll never understand the significance or need.

But if you were a part of the worship, the symbols/rituals would serve as reminders to you that you are fearfully wonderfully unique and loved.

Do you need the symbol to be those things?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Do we all need a reminder sometime of the reverence or authentic love of Jesus?

I'd wager yes.

Mama Warriors, I will confess that I cringe every time I remember it's an election year.

You won't find me spouting politics here but you will find me reminding you to make space for things you don't understand.

Consider the idea that people in your life may feel differently than you on what you consider big issues.

And consider how your judgement and ugliness will be received.

Consider for a moment that maybe it's okay for someone else to need bracelets up to their wrist even if you don't.

Are you building bridges or digging trenches with your words?

Does what you share make you a person others will feel comfortable having dialogue with?

Will people feel fearfully and wonderfully loved for who they are?

Not in spite of.

For.

Feeling 22

 “Mothers have martyred themselves in their children’s names since the beginning of time. We have lived as if she who disappears the most, loves the most. We have been conditioned to prove our love by slowly ceasing to exist." Glennon Doyle

22 years ago this morning I had been in active labor for days.

My doctor, a very patient woman who had been reading the newspaper leisurely at my feet for the majority of this experience, says "This is not working. Let's try something else."

This new baby was face up. My body and her head had spent hours butting against each other.

"Let's work with gravity not against it."

I delivered our Princess on hands and knees, letting nature do its thing. We threw the birth plan out the window and let the Princess be our guide.

That became an omen for my parenting journey.

"This is not working. Let's try something else."

"Let's work with gravity (nature) not against it."

Again and again.

I was thinking on my walk this morning....as the Princess wakes all "feeling 22" (not for hours of course)....

22 was 1997.

22 was the year I realized I was worthy of better.

22 was the year my best friend became my partner.

22 was the year I graduated from college and tried to find my "next step" footing.

Then just 5 years later, I became someone's mother.

There are so many things I wish I could go back and tell me that day.

I had read ALL the books. I had taken childbirth classes (do people still do that?). I did prenatal yoga. I wanted this baby to be born into a Zen environment.

We built a crib. Painted a nursery. Installed a car seat. Bought ALL the things.

And then I held my breath.

Every time I had to "try something else" I thought I was doing it wrong. Felt guilt for the mistakes I was making. Felt overwhelmed with the responsibility for who they would become.

Clenched my fists. Held on tight.

I tried to balance the incoming advice. All the things I was doing "wrong" which is why she cried all the time, she never slept, I cried all the time, I never slept.

I wish someone had said to me "This will be hard. You will make mistakes. She will do NONE Of the things in the books you read. And that's okay. It will not be okay sometimes. And that's okay. There will be moments of joy. Speak those out loud. Don't forget you are worthy of space."

But instead, all the mom groups and blogs told me how fabulous motherhood was. How I was supposed to "cherish every moment." How I was going to "miss this one day."

I planned our days. Filled our family calendar with "fun" (which if we're honest rarely felt fun).

I woke up too sick to mother one day in late 2013. And I opened my palms. I said aloud "God they are yours."

I reigned in those Pinterest mother goals. My new goals became keep them alive, keep me alive.

I created more margin and white space in our lives than had ever existed before.

I exhaled.

I became a witness and a traveler on their journey.

Not them on mine.

I made space for "let's try something different."

I let who they naturally are tell me what's best for them.

I made space for me.

Mama Warriors, as we wake this morning on Independence day, I'm reminded that the end game is to raise independent adults.

There's no prize for being a martyr in the meantime.

If we teach our kids that micro managing their whole world is our full time job, it sends two messages.

One we don't think they can make their own choices. We don't empower them to live fully into who they were made to be. Or to learn from their mistakes.

Two, it teaches them that love looks like an obligation at the expense of yourself.

Let's try something different.