My Heart and My Home

"What's your personal style?" A question that always brought me discomfort and dread. For years I had no idea. What were my favorite colors? In an ideal world how would I decorate? If money was no object how would I arrange, paint, purchase, and fill my home? Who in the heck actually knew? Certainly not me.  

Some people have a knack for knowing what they like and bringing it to fruition. I was not one of those people. Hand-me-downs and take-what-you-can-gets filled every room of my house. I didn't notice most of the time until someone asked me about my personal style, implying that surely the green carpet and dirty red sofas they saw couldn't be my heart's desire. 

My family has been situated on our little cul de sac for a little more than ten years now. We bought the biggest house we could get for our money so we could host large groups of people, but it also meant we chose to live in a fixer upper. I often tell my poor Chad that he knows how to do so much that he gets stuck doing too much. We've (he's) torn down walls, ripped up flooring, dealt with frustrating troubles, and now we are finally representing my (our) personal style. 

Through trial and error, age, and a fixed up house, here is what I've discovered: 

I like neutral walls so I can change decorations whenever I want. (I went through an orange accent wall phase. I liked it for approximately one minute. Ick.) 

I like bright decor to stand out on my neutral walls. 

I like texture on the walls. Wood, metal, fabric, anything interesting. 

I like to fill my shelves with memories, keepsakes, meaningful words, and lots and lots of books. 

I like bright open spaces with large, comfy furniture that whispers, "Come take a nap" and/or "Someone in this house is glad you're here." 

I like for people to feel like there is space for them when they enter a room... a chair, a clean floor, space at the table. 

Now that half my kids live in two places (home is still home), I really, really like for them to come home and know it will be full of peace, laughter, and deep comfort. 

We recently moved out our pingpong table and reoriented the entry room as seen below. The walls are covered with reminders of people we love. My artist and maker friends give me cool stuff and I love it! One print is a hand caligraphied piece we received as a wedding gift way back in 1995. Other prints are hand drawn or graphic designed. Each one makes me smile. Even Chad's childhood Donald Duck bank is displayed. Photos, Scripture, and important words fill the room. 

I change and rearrange these shelves regularly. I like the stable consistency of the wall color and shelves, but also like the reminder that change can be good in how I can rearrange the stuff on the shelves. I've caught everyone in my family grinning at me as I try to work the arrangement just so. 

Again, I can change the shelf in the middle (which is actually an old desk drawer. HOPE.. yes, I need the giant constant reminder that my hope is eternal and not temporal. And if you look at all the photos, you'll surely see a rhino or two or ten. Chad is a big fan of rhinos hence our whole family enjoys them prominently displayed everywhere. Sometimes the punks like them a little too prominent for me. They tease me often and I love every minute of it. 

Moving to our main living room in the photo below. Chad and our friends, Phil and Stuart, helped build this lovely fireplace and mantel. The mantel itself is reclaimed, hand-hewn wood. The piece above the fireplace is a reminder for Chad and me to be a place of refuge for our kids who will each be world-changers in their own ways. I pray we love, support, and continually launch them into the world so they can do the hard work of loving and helping others and that they continually return home for a refilling of love and support. A beautiful cycle. 

As Chad collects rhinos, I collect unique Nativities. Chad found this one on a recent trip to Las Cruces. I usually keep a few Nativities displayed year round. The framed Scripture is the passage that God used to hold me up during my stroke and recovery. 

Look at the cutest, tiniest Nativity you ever saw! My friend, Britt, gave it to me. I love it. And of course, my kiddos. 

I recently purchased this metal sign from Magnolia Market. If you've been around me lately, you've heard me say far too many times that I'm in a time of transition with my kids. For as long as I can remember, well-meaning people have spoken ill-meaning words over me as a mom. "Oh three daughters, just wait unit they are teenagers. It's going to be awful." Or, "Kyle is so smart and good-looking, he's going to be a heartbreaker and it's going to break your heart." Or, "You were so rebellious I bet your kids will be the same." And as they leave the nest, I've heard a few too many times words that sting deeply like, "How great it will be to have the house to yourselves" or "When they leave the house, they will leave relationship with you, too" or "Life gets harder and harder and lonelier and lonelier." 

On good days, I can understand that those words aren't about me or my kids, but about some pain in the person speaking them. On bad days, fear can grip me like a vice and I play out every dark scenario that comes to my dark mind. On days I choose to trust God who numbers my days rightly as I fix my eyes on him, I remember no one knows how the years will turn out except Him alone. The best is always yet to come because someday I will see him face to face. I'm going to keep opening the doors of my home as long as I physically, emotionally, and spiritually can to family and friends, therefore "The Good Ol' Days Are truly Yet to Come." This isn't a rose colored glasses sign for me. It's a reminder every time I come in my house and leave my house to look to the future with hope and expectation instead of fear and dread. 

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come." Proverbs 31:25 

Just as my heart is in constant remodeling, so is my house. Lest you think everything is how we want it, here are a couple of photos to the contrary. 

The remainder of the orange-ness and what will be my future office, reading, sitting, daydreaming room. We are building a pantry and making this little space cozy. I can't wait. Electrical work is first which means Chad needs a friend's help. Slowly but surely.

And, alas, our ugly, ugly bedroom. My kids tell me regularly it should be our next project, but I don't care too much about it. The walls still have patched holes from when we had to replumb our whole house and the carpet is still a 'delightful' shade of green. But whatcha gonna do? Eventually this will be remodeled, but I'd rather have a pretty back yard which is my current campaign. 

Hello to those of you who actually read all the way to the end of this post! It seems like just a few years ago we had people in our home nonstop. Life changed in that regards somewhat because my teenagers participate in many activities and I wasn't about to miss anything. But, I can feel a change coming where we will host more consistently again. We don't know what it will look like just yet, but I hope "my personal style" in building our home puts people at ease, beckons my kids to come home to replenish, and fills Chad and me with love, joy, and contentment for years and years to come. 

Now tell me, what is your style? Do you like to fix stuff up? Do you like to have people in your home? What do you look forward to in the future? One more question, do you look at the links I include in my blog posts? Just curious. 

The Good Gifts of Summer

Remember when I said I would draw a winner for the book and $30 Amazon gift card in a week and then almost a month passed? Oops. Time-shmime. Am I right? Anyone? Well, sorry 'bout that.

THE WINNER IS...

Congrats, friend. And it works out so well since it's your birthday month! Happy birthday and here's your prize!

Since you clicked over here to see who won, I thought I'd share some of my summer favorites. I like when my friends like things I like, so I'm happy to give you my not so secret secrets.

Floating in my back yard pool is a must for me during the summer. I've explained it before, but in case you haven't heard, my pool has an invisible force field around it that blocks out my ability to analyze, problem solve, and overthink about life, ministry, family, future, and all things overwhelming. It is glorious. Now, I am a responsible, hang-out in the sun floater so I wear sunscreen. My friend, Janice, gave me Sun Bum for my birthday a couple of years ago and I've never looked back. It's worth the extra bucks to not feel coated with glue. Do you know what I'm saying?

Cheap sunscreen = greasy glue = no thanks

Go get you some at any drugstore or just order it from Amazon.

Next, I drink too much cold brew coffee (otherwise known as toddy) during the summer. Chad makes it for me because he loves me. You can make your own cheaper than you can get it at coffee shops. Duh. I prefer when he uses lighter roasts because to me, dark roast coffee tastes like your licking a tire. Oh man. My bitter palate can only handle so much. Do you like lighter or darker roasts?

Order it or go to World Market and pick one up. Instructions are in the box. Also, why is the woman on the box of a cold brew system acting like she's drinking a cup of hot coffee. Design/marketing mess up if you ask me.

Next, the new Zach Brown Band album is playing on repeat for me this summer. The title hooked me instantaneously: Welcome Home. Gives me good vibes just typing it out. My family teases me by saying all their music sounds the same, but WHATEVER, because it all sounds awesome the same! The song, Family Table, put a giant lump in my throat and possibly even squeezed out a couple of tears. If you like good country music (not like that Florida Georgia Line crap. Gag.) then buy this album. Good, good, good. What band can you listen to on repeat?

Finally, I'm determined to make this a summer of reading. Good news for me, Carah's swim meets are on Tuesday and Thursday nights and last 3+ hours. She only swims a little more than 2 minutes of that time. I'm not great at math, but that's way more sitting than watching. To make use of all. that. time, I'm making my way through my reading list. What are you reading?

I'm reading top to bottom. My goal/hope is to get through five more before school starts. We shall see!

For me, summer is a time to grill out, watch movies, and slow down. When my kids were younger we played Skip-Bo, swam, read, watched shows, and played and played and played. This year, I'm being forced to learn a new summer rhythm because teenage activities amp up in summer more than they slow down. However, determination drives me to continue to use this season to think about being a finite human. I can't keep the sprint pace of most months even though sometimes I try. The Sonoran Desert swelter reminds me to slow down or suffocate. A break from school for my kids provides consistent opportunity to engage them in conversation so that the tiny screens in their pockets don't suck away their time, minds, and hearts. Later evenings create space for more laughter with friends, more time for books, and the familiarity of movies we've watched over and over. My family only has three more traditional school summers and then Chad and my arrows will all be launched. In the future I know I'll find new ways to revel in my favorite season, but for now I'm taking deep deliberate breaths, burning as many images in my mind as I can, and resting in the good gifts of family, friends, and summer.

Change Happens

Even though my friend, Alysa, lives in a different state, I think she sensed my current heart struggle, so she re-posted a guest post I wrote for her blog a couple of years ago. When I read it again this morning, as if right on cue, the tears leaked out once again. Tears easily fall from my eyes these days. My kids say that I cry all the time which I think is a slight exaggeration, but I will admit it happens more frequently than it used to.

One of my parenting goals from the beginning has been to embrace each stage as better than the last. Let me tell you, this goal is really being put to the test in this current season. The launching kids out into the world stage does not feel better than the everyone sitting around the table eating, talking, and laughing season. My heart and mind feel confused often. Because God allows us to feel multiple emotions at one time, I can be excited for the adventure and maturity awaiting my kids outside of my home and feel sad about them not being down the hall at night safe and sound in their beds. Life keeps on moving. Even though people told me the days were long and the years were short I didn't really know just how short the years would be. I hear the years just keep getting shorter, too, so I must continue to work to discipline myself to be present, engaged, joy-filled, and purposeful. But it is stinking hard.

So do not fear, do not be dismayed. I will strengthen and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ~Isaiah 41:10

For I am confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it out to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. ~Philippians 1:6

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. ~Hebrews 13:8

Change happens, indeed. There are only three years between these two photos. We are all smiling, but if you could read the story through each and every moment between the lines you would see joy, pain, laughter, doubts, success, failure, hurt, apologies, time spent well, time wasted, family together time moved into launching them out time. All of it combined is the change that continues to lead all six of us to become who God intends for us to be as individuals and as family. Chad and I seek to be good, good parents as an example to them of God as the good, good Father. He never freaks out in the midst of all our human changes, so I'm on my knees asking him to help me not to freak out, to be steadfast in him, and overflow with thankfulness and security when it all seems quite wobbly. 

I have two tattoos symbolizing my family. The one on my leg is a good representation of the family season. We are all stars surrounded by a swirl of community support and togetherness. The one on my arm represents Psalm 127, my quiver full of arrows. We spend intentional time to craft and hone each arrow to be unique, to love God, and to love people. When you shoot them off, you pray so hard they will fly straight. The permanent marks on my body represent the permanent prayers of my life. I pray my life demonstrates deep love for my family and the ability to launch them well. I long for them to continue to love God with all their hearts as he shows them how to love and serve people. May it be so, Jesus. 

From Transition to Peace

I've not often chosen a special word to mark a particular year. It's definitely a good practice and I enjoy hearing about people's words and how God uses it in their lives, but for whatever reason I have been unable to carry the discipline through for an entire year.

However, looking back at 2015 two words very clearly stand out to me.

Transition and Change.

In ministry, Second Mile gained our very own building which may be the biggest change our church has encountered thus far. Renovating the facility and moving into being the caretakers took grit, determination, stamina, strategy, and so much communication. After talking with key leaders in the moving process, many of us are still a little shell shocked. I believe we are just barely scratching the surface of experiencing "to whom much has been given much will be required" when it comes to this building. The good, good gift of our own home will continue to require transition and change in our hearts and ministry.

Relationships within ministry have also been laden with change. The longevity of ministry in Tucson provides my family with the opportunity to be the ones who are left when for the years before Tucson, we were always the ones leaving. The juxtaposition of leaving and being left created chaos in my heart. Shutting out new relationships in self-preservation became a burdensome temptation. Change and transition of relationships affected my whole family like never before. In terms of this specific opportunity for growth, I'm happy to see 2015 go and I hope to bring what I've learned about longevity and perseverance into 2016.

The change in my family of Esther launching from our home continues to challenge me. If you know me you know I desire to be a parent who claims, "Each stage is better than the last." Up to this point, I could confidently declare it; toddlers better than babies, elementary better than preschool, teenagers better than preteens in terms of not lamenting about the past, but being present in each chapter with my family. I've loved every single stage. The transition from all my arrows being safely tucked in my quiver to taking the oldest one and launching her out knocked me off balance. Learning a new normal of time and conversation with her and the family as a whole takes work. The good news is we move towards a beautiful new groove each day. I'm beginning to see ways I will be able to say this stage is better than the last.

So what about 2016?

Interestingly enough, two words swirl around in my heart and mind as I think and pray for the coming year. This is a first for me and I'm curious to see how it will play out in the coming months.

Peace and Focus.

Change and transition really struck a blow to my contentment. So many days in 2015 were taken up with tears and melancholy contemplation. To prayerfully shake it off, I've spent the month of December reading Psalm 77, specifically asking God to help me remember/meditate on his "mighty deeds and wonders of old." (If you are feeling tired, worn out, or in need, read it and pray through it. Do it every day until your soul finds release and relief.)

The fruit of meditating on this beautiful Psalm is growing peace. I'm asking God to put peace in my heart no matter what circumstances come my way. I'm sad to say this was often absent in my life during 2015.

Much to the annoyance of many of you, I've hinted about a big project I've felt God prompt me towards since last February. This year I'm asking God for the focus to make it happen.

The first verses I'm going to memorize in 2016 is 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12. It is so, so good and inspiring.

2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. (italics mine)

In this task I believe God has set before me (I will tell you about it soonish. I promise. Please forgive my vagueness. I just need a minute more to get my head on straight.) it is imperative I trust that only he will fulfill this resolve of faith I feel with his power so that he will be glorified. Yes please! It's the only way it will happen and it will take a tremendous amount of focus because I can tell you, I feel incredibly inadequate to complete this undertaking. Will you please pray for me? If you aren't sure what to pray ask God to help me to love him with everything I have and pray 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12 over me. I seriously need both.

I won't be continuing consistent Moxie Memorizers posts for 2016. Please continue to take in God's word. You and I desperately need it. As Beth Moore says, Jesus saved my soul, his word saved my mind.

Let's encourage each other with some comment responses. What stands out to you about 2015? Do you have a word or two you're praying for 2016? What is the first verse you are going to memorize this year?

As always, I'm continually thankful and continually prayerful for you, friends.

Leaking Pipes :: A House Renovation

Second Mile finished the Hebrews series with a bang. Several people shared with us what God spoke to their hearts through Chad's teaching and their own study. We worshipped as a body and lifted Jesus high. Chad and I sat on the couch when we got home that evening to rest in what God breathed into our community through 36 weeks of in-depth Hebrews study.

And then our sweet Morgan came into our living room to tell us there was water all over the floor. It was quite a jolt to the peace we were enjoying on the couch.

Therefore, we started out the week of Esther's high school graduation with a forced, major remodel. We were told our house needed a total re-plumb which meant we would have no water for awhile (two weeks.) We had floors ripped out, our guest bathroom gutted, and two feet of sheetrock cut out in much of the house. We had industrial dryers and dehumidifiers set up to prevent any funk from growing in our walls. Lovely.

In the beginning of the flood, my heart was so, so sad. You see, I'm a planner, and a celebrator, and a mom. I love tradition and ceremony. I enjoy stopping in moments to make memories. (I mean, I literally stop in moments to take mental pictures to create memories. My mind and heart have some awesome shots I've collected through the years.) Considering these "special" qualities I possess, the plan I've been concocting for Esther's high school graduation week was quite grandiose and impressive. From the breakfasts I would make to the balloons I would fill, from the family dinners around the table to the open house we would host for all our friends, I had some serious plans!

But when your house has no water or walls, plans have to be changed. Friends, it was a real struggle. Not the kind of "the struggle is real" stuff with which people hashtags their annoyances. The kind of struggle that I had to wrestle through to come a point of surrender. I would love to tell you my heart and mind are so sanctified that it was a quick, easy, painless process, but alas it would be a lie.

I cried.

I schemed.

I fumed.

I dismayed.

Then on Wednesday, Chad and I went to lunch and decided to take hold of our circumstances and celebrate Esther with our family and friends to the very best of our abilities. It was a turning point for me. I went home, cleaned as much as I could to create space for us and welcome our extended family, decorated for Esther, and wrote down the schedule and plan for the remaining week of graduation.

Our community rallied around us beautifully. Because my friends know how important hosting is to me, we were given gift cards to take our extended family out for dinner. So many people offered to open their home to host Esther's graduation party. Many people gave sacrificially to us to help begin to pay the bills for the renovations. The church family who learned good things through Hebrews about being the church fully stepped into love and care for my family. I could never express how much I love these people. Through seasons of great difficulty for us, from foster care to stroke to our current house discombobulation, we are deeply cared for.

**Thank you, Second Milers! You guys are the best!** 

Chad has been working so hard everyday, trying to finish the renovations before we leave for vacation. Did I mention he's doing most of the work himself so we can get the most bang for our buck? This "disaster" gave us the opportunity to make our house awesome. Yay, us?

This 

 Turned to this

 And then turned to this 

I'll share a photo of the completed bathroom soon. It's going look awesome! 

When it is all finished, maybe we will host an open house so you can see what we've been up to. For now, here's a little sneak peak at the new and improved laundry room. 

All in all, I know it's small potatoes compared to the suffering in the world. I asked God to increase thankfulness in my heart through this ordeal and he's been faithful to do so. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for it to be finished. But, I'm thankful for a house, for a husband who knows how to build and fix stuff, for resources to restore our home, for friends who provided and care for us, and for the coming days when this project will be complete.

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What about you? Do you struggle sometimes to be thankful in all circumstances? What have you been thankful for lately? Do you enjoy house projects? Are you working on anything major right now? 

Many blessings in the trials, my friends! 

On Being Present

I love that you can share ideas with a ton of people through the medium of blog posts. It's very cool and convenient. But at the same time, sometimes it leaves gaps in the story, advice, or overall picture of what is being typed out. To be honest, I enjoy the process of writing to share my heart, but I do not consider myself a writer per se. I'm a leader, an investor in people, a passionate prophet, and I use this blog to share my heart, however, my written words don't always flow naturally, and sometimes, a week or so later, I feel heavy at the thought of placing unintended burdens on people.

Last week I enjoyed the privilege of sharing a bit of parenting advice on my lovely friend Alysa's blog. I most certainly stand by the overall point that, for me, each stage of parenting has been better than the last. However, after more thought on this very subject I wanted to take the opportunity to add some clarification of what it has meant for me to be present through each season with my kids.

A definition of present that I'm quite fond of is "existing in the now." That's it. Pretty basic. It doesn't say loving every single minute, thriving always, knowing exactly what to do, or being overly positive or inauthentic about life's challenges. Being present is existing in the now. Shauna Niequist put it this way a few months ago: "Present over perfect." Yes, present as to not miss anything, but being present does not require rose colored glasses of fakeness or oblivion.

My overall hope of the post was to encourage parents to be present in the seasons of their kids' lives. However, a burden of day to day drudgery may have been hoisted onto the backs of moms who are currently struggling, and that is never ever my intention. Listen, I'm no perfect lady. Through the years there were late summer days that I just wanted/needed school to start, or night terrors or vomit explosions that led to sleepless nights that led to grouchy next day mom, or kids that wouldn't listen so I yelled my frustrations in their face to say "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME NOW?!"

Oh yes. So many sins I could list here, but that isn't the point. I've owned up to my mistakes with my kids and with my Jesus, so I'm able to move forward and trust that God is molding me through the process of parenting. Make no mistake. Parenting isn't only about you molding your kids. In fact, through parenting, my life is continually being molded by a gracious and direct God in unbelievably profound ways.

But here is what I really want to tell you about being present as a parent.

It's not about being in every moment of every day. Sometimes we get so caught up in keeping our heads down to do the work on the ground level that we forget to look up and see the trail, to gain our bearings from the sun and stars, and see the path ahead. Sometimes being present is about living in the day to day, taking it all in, caring for sickies or whiners, making memories, holding and cuddling. Sometimes being present is about keeping your parental vision of raising humans beings that love God and love others in focus so that you don't lose your way.

The times I struggle the most in parenting is when I've been neglecting taking care of my soul. Do you have the times that you are "so present" that you haven't showered, gotten out of the house and walked through an isle of breakable things without panicking, read a book, or talked to an adult? Those times for me shriveled my soul. Now, I've never been a proponent of "me time." Seriously. I cannot stand that phrase. Our culture is obsessed with self. But I am a very strong proponent of soul refreshing time.

Friends, one of the very best ways you can be present as a parent with your family is to care for your soul. What fills you? What breathes life into your weary bones? Do you even know? Are you willing to set time aside to just read for 10 minutes a day? Can you leave your child in their room so you can take a five minute shower? Do not just take care of your body through diet and exercise. Do not just take care of your mind through reading a good book or engaging in good conversation. Do not just take care of your heart through spending time in prayer or going out with friends.

Take care of your whole, entire person. Your soul.

Do not get bogged down in the external distractions of self, self, self. Look inward to see what you truly need, and then allow God to deal with your soul. Five to ten minutes a day of soul care will carry you through being present so that you can believe that each stage is better than the last.

For those of you that are in the trenches this is what soul care looks like for me then and now:

• exercise 4-5 days a week at a gym with childcare (glorious gym childcare. *sigh*)
• read 5-10 minutes a day, not to my kids, to myself
• meals at the table most nights when I had littles, 2-3 times a week currently
• showered when I wanted to, put my kids in their crib or room guilt free
• "Go play in your room without my direction or instruction. Just play."
• regular Bible study either by myself or with a group of friends -- so refreshing
• investment into others' lives so that I wasn't self-focused
• invited people over regularly and taught our kids that they weren't the center 
• adult music in my car -- the Wheels on the Bus can wait 
• deep breaths, eyes closed, whispered prayers of thankfulness and love

Oh this is such a short list. Soul care is deep, important work. I continue to learn about how important it is. (I'm currently reading a book on this topic. I'm only on chapter 3 and I love it so much, but feel the need to be responsible to read the whole thing before I recommend it. Stay tuned for more on this subject.) 

How do you care for your soul? Do you engage more in your external or internal life? What importance do you see in the balance of both internal and external when it comes to being present? Have you experienced that your current season with your kids is better than the last? Why or why not?  

Choosing to Believe :: Better Than the Last

As we walked out of the orphanage, tiny little arms clung to our necks like we were her only hope of survival in this strange outside world she just entered. Red taxis zoomed passed us blaring their horns as was the cultural expectation. The sultry air was thick, but mostly because of the weight of responsibility we took on that day. From this moment on, we vowed to be Mom and Dad, to care for, raise up, nurture, invest in, lay down our lives for this child and any other child God saw fit to put into our hearts and arms.

Today as we drove Kyle to his fourth day of ninth grade, he announced, "177 school days left in this year." My heart sank and all I could do was shush him.

In only 177 short days the sweet arms that so tightly gripped our necks will be walking across the high school graduation stage. Esther will wear her purple cap and gown over the lovely dress I'll probably have to beg her to wear. I imagine her guest list at the ceremony will be one of the largest of all the students because she so dearly loves the community of people that so dearly love her.

As all moms do, through the years I've received my fair share of advice, critiques, and future projections from friends and strangers about parenting. So many of the unnecessary and annoying comments pushed me to be a better mom, to be more present, to not fall into the ugliness that people projected onto me and my family. I wrote a guest post describing my philosophy concerning this for my lovely friend, Alysa. You can read it here if you would like more context for what I'm writing now.

In trying to be present, I honestly feel like I've done a great job not looking back, wishing for the old days or looking forward, longing for time to go faster or get easier. One of my parenting goals is to be present in my four kids' lives while raising them with vision and hope for their future. It has not always been easy, but like training muscles, I worked to train my heart and mind to be disciplined in each stage of parenting.

But currently I'm being challenged in this goal. You just read that there are only 177 days of school left! Esther will be graduating and forging her way in the world. I am so looking forward to watching it all unfold. She is determined, trustworthy, intelligent, loving, loyal, and dependable. God's plans for her probably do not include living at home forever so I can peek in her room at night to say a little prayer over her while she sleeps. It is for the best of everyone that our journey keeps moving forward.

I've never been afraid of any coming season for my kids. Sure, I've been completely ignorant of the next step, or nervous for kindergarten, or apprehensive about letting them gain more independence, but fear about the future has not been a plague to my heart.

But, friends, I'm struggling to remain present in this season knowing what is coming in the next season. It feels like as soon as Esther moves out, Kyle, Morgan, and Carah will move out a minute later. It freaks me out to the point of tears leaking out of my eyes in the most random times. Like now.

Confession: I'm afraid.

Redemption: God knows.

He is giving me scripture in each moment of heart-jarring future dread.  He is enabling me to choose to continue to be present and fully enjoy this stage, while choosing to believe each stage is better than the last. He is giving me moments with my family to savor all their "You're such a dork, Mom" grins while I make them stand in a circle and hold hands so I can look deeply into their faces and make a mental memory picture. He's filled my home with love, laughter, and hope for the future that overcomes my minutes of gasps as I realize Esther turns 18 in one month and I have gray hair and wrinkles.

They give me this look often. I have no idea why.

LKM Photography 

So do not fear, do not be dismayed. I will strengthen and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ~ Isaiah 41:10

It will be ok. It will be so difficult to transition through these coming months and years, but so far God has provided experiential truth to my declaration that each season with my kids has been better than the last.

Where are you in journey, parenting or otherwise? Does being present come natural for you or does it take work? Do you look to the future with dread or with a better than the last mentality? Please share your comment love. 


P.S. Here is an interesting observation: Most of the people in my life don't have kids, have kids that are significantly younger than mine, or already have grandkids. I don't know very many people in my current stage. Please know that I'm raw in this area before you type out your comment or send me a message. You may not want my feisty response. I mentioned in an earlier paragraph that moms often receive advice, critiques, and future projections. I'm a little or a lot more straight forward with that kind of stuff than I used to be. But don't let this disclaimer deter you from sharing. 

Rhythms of Rest

Rest -- freedom from activity or labor, a brief pause, peace of mind or spirit, free of anxieties.

Two weeks ago my family set out to rest. Over the past few summers vacation came to us in the form of big trips to exciting destinations. Because of schedules in the shortness of our two month summer, no one had the same weekend open for us to get away. To be honest, I cried about it. My soul so desperately wanted to escape with my family to recharge and refill. 

After deliberating several options, Chad and I had the bright idea to staycation in Tucson. We agreed to completely clear our schedules and engage with our family and our city for two whole weeks. The biggest kicker for me was that we also agreed not to talk about work at all. For the two of us to not talk about what we do through and in Second Mile would be a challenge. My fear was we wouldn't have much to talk about. Sad, but true.

Do you know what? The first two days of being at home with "nothing" to do irritated me like a mosquito bite. I was pouty that I wasn't on the beach. All of the things that I left on my to-do list scrolled through my mind. Fear the kids would think our staycation was lame infested my heart. It took intentional prayer and surrender to allow God to sift through my soul to prepare my heart for the great two weeks He had planned for the Haynes family.

Matthew 11:28-30 The Message

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burnt out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and rightly."

The beauty of this passage comes in our day to day life. It isn't a passage meant to be used as an excuse for vacation, but in the times of setting regular life aside we can be reminded that this is how he desires for us to live everyday, to learn and enjoy "the unforced rhythms of grace."

We forced nothing during our staycation, but we intentionally sought out several things.

• We played games including cards (Shanghai) and Ticket to Ride.
• We ate donuts from a 1935 Tucson landmark.
• We finally went to San Xavier Mission which was a long overdue expedition.
• We enjoyed the sunset at Kyle's track meet.
• We went to Mt. Lemmon and split two ginormous cookies from that little cookie house we've passed for ten years, but never made a point to stop. 
• We went to Guadalajara Grill mainly for the table side made salsa. That stuff is delicious. 
• We made some pretty fine meals ourselves, many of our family favorites. 
• We celebrated Father's Day with scones, Miss Saigon, and Ross. 
• We never set an alarm and slept in every day.
• We laughed so much, mostly at my expense because moms are pretty easy to make fun of. 

Personally, 

• I baked cobbler and scones. 
• I met my goal of getting in our pool every single day. 
• I read at least ten Psalms everyday and deeply inhaled God's steadfast, unfailing love. 
• I finished one of my books about prayer which means I was awake in the middle of many nights praying which was pretty fantastic. (I said I wouldn't talk to Chad about work. I had to get out all my crazy thoughts to Someone! Who better to talk to and listen to than Jesus?)

And you, my friends? You were wonderful. This staycation would never have worked if you hadn't respected my family's need for rest. My phone was eerily silent. A few times I wondered if we were missed because my quiet phone made me insecure because any normal given day it goes off 877 times. Your love for us demonstrated in your ability to encourage a time of rest bolsters our desire to serve and love you. Thank you for perpetuating the circle of loving one another. 

One more thing, this staycation came at the best season in the life of our family. I'm praying my kids learned that you don't have to spend money, be extravagant, go some place new to find rest, to enjoy the people you love, to recharge and refill. This season was right. Let me say that if we would have tried this when my kids were little I would have lost my ever lovin' mind! It would have felt like normal, trapped life with piles of laundry and messes and the millionth game of Candyland and another episode of Dora and bath time and waking up at 6:00am. Getting away was necessary when my kids were young, and we did! We went places that the whole family enjoyed. But now, in my opinion, the sweet season of witty, charming, self-caring teenagers was the perfect time for a staycation. Those of you that currently deal day in and day out with sweet tiny cuties that depend on you for everything don't try a staycation just yet, but keep this in a file in your mind for the future. Be intentional now, so that family, relational intentionality grows deeper and deeper through the years. You won't be sorry. 

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What are your favorite ways to rest? Are you going on vacation this summer? What is your favorite part of vacation? How does your time of rest include soaking in more of Jesus? 

Tears and Good Gifts

As I drove through the parking lot towards the exit, the lump in my throat turned into misty drops under my eyelids trying to sneak their way out. I chastised myself out loud.

"What in the world is wrong with you? You've been dropping kids off for their first day of school for 12 years now. They will be fine. Every year they are fine. And grow. And learn. And mature. And still love you through it all. Don't be a baby."

Of course, my straight forward pep talk to myself did not stop the tears. Within five minutes I was praying and daydreaming about each child in college trying to figure out how to buy groceries for themselves or not getting lost on the way to class because the university they attend will probably be humungous or wondering what their own unique way of expressing themselves in the world will look like or how many of their friends will I get to meet and cook for if they end up going to U of A?

All because school started again. Every year I have the same thoughts. Every year I pray the same prayers.

God, direct their hearts towards you.

Teach them to seek your glory and not their own. 

Help them to be path-makers and not path-takers. 

When difficulties come this year (and they always do), help them to look for you and what you want to teach them. Refine them. Give me grace and patience as you refine me by watching how you refine them. 

Make their faith in you their own, apart from Chad and me, but also because of what we've taught them. 

Teach them to ask questions and to know that you are not afraid or intimidated by any question they may have. 

During the summer my heart sometimes grows heavy with worry, over-active questions, concern for the hard worker I desire to be in my family and in my church. For years I've been somewhere between stay at home mom and working mom. My employment and ministry affords me the opportunity to be flexible and present in almost all of my kids' daily lives. Sometimes I feel exhausted, confused, and guilt-ridden.

Am I home enough with them? Did I leave them too long to meet with those women? Are they resentful of the work I do with the church? Are they able to be motivated when I'm not around to do something other than watch TV and bicker?

The same type of questions echo in my mind about my work. Do people understand that my family is my main priority? Am I giving enough time to meet and listen with women God has placed in my life? Why haven't I read more, written more, spoken more?

But then Jesus guides my heart to grow heavy with repentance, love, anticipation, thankfulness, and awe of the roles He has given me in this crazy life.

Whatever you do work at it with all your heart as if working for the Lord and not for men. 

Colossians 3:23

My motivation in all of this must be "working for the Lord." Did you notice how my worrisome questions are oh so self-centered? My worry, fret, and fear is often motivated from the not so pretty place of self.

The first day of school every year reminds me to surrender my selfish desires for my kids and to trust that he entrusted them to Chad and me to parent, to love, to guide, to teach. He asks me to believe that just as I claim Christ to be enough in my life, He is more than enough in theirs. He wants me to know His plans for each of their futures far exceeds my own limited ability to hope and dream for them. He knows how to give good gifts. 

And now I'm crying again.

Where I Come From

I grew up in a small west Texas town called Kermit. I have some amazing memories and some horrible memories of that little place. I suppose most people could say that about their hometowns. That's just life in general. 

When I was nine, my parents decided to sign my brothers and me up for a program called 4-H. We raised animals, did leather working, took sewing classes, gardening, and other programs to teach us responsibility and commitment. I raised hogs, sheep, and steers. My brothers also raised goats. I spent many hours at the 4-H animal pens caring for and cleaning up after my animals. I may also have been involved in the mischief of practical jokes and dirt clod fights on a few occasions. My brothers and I would ride our bikes over and take our time hurry to get every chore done to the "best" of our ability. 

When we were younger 4-Hers we stuck with our local county stock show. As we got older we went to bigger fairs and shows. One of the most hilarious parts of the local show was a little game we called Grab. My old friends Ricky Holcomb, Andy Fires, and the other older kids would gather all the newer 4-Hers and out of town kids around for the game. 

They would take a cowboy hat, sprinkle coins, count to three, lift the hat, and all the kids would quickly reach in and grab as many coins as they could. Each time the game runners would increase the pot which in turn increased the greed of the players. The key was having the players close their eyes while the game was reset each time. It built excitement and anticipation. 

On the final round, we would all talk up how much money was in the pot. The young players' eyes would grow with determination. We would all chant, "One. Two. Three!" Every kid surged toward the awaiting pot of gold ready to strike it rich! Only this time, a fresh green cow patty squished between their greedy little fingers. Oh the tears! Oh the laughter! The kids that won the favor of the older ones were the ones laughing. The kids who ran crying to their mommies usually didn't make it into the elite group. One of my favorite cryers was my cousin who absolutely drove me batty. My young justice driven self loved every one of his baby tears. By the way, these days this would probably be considered bullying. But in the 1980s, it was considered awesomeness.  And yes, I once grabbed a hand full of warm squishy poo. It was a rite of passage in the Winkler County 4-H Club.  

The following photos are a peek into my childhood. Keep in mind at this time I lived in west Texas and had a very thick accent. We moved to New Mexico my senior year of High School and I was teased about the accent so I worked hard to get rid of it. When I am mad, tired, or fired up while teaching, that Texas twang still sneaks out of my mouth. You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can't take Texas out of the girl. 

Oreo was my first hog. Every kid's first black and white hog was, and probably still is, named Oreo. This photo shows when I'm realizing that my beloved Oreo was about to be sold in the auction to become bacon in someone's freezer. 

Ah, the life lessons I learned in the ag world. 

My first little hereford steer. I have vivid memories of halter breaking this guy. In my memory he's much bigger than what the photo indicates. I remember being drug around the arena when I was first working to break him. My dad stood at the fence yelling, "DON'T LET GO, ANGEL! YOU HOLD ON!" while my mom stood at the same fence yelling, "LET GO, BABY! LET GO!" 

I broke that dang steer, and was tougher for it! 

Oh yes. I graduated to this bad boy. I also graduated to wearing pants pulled up to my chest. That zipper has to be at least 12 inches long. The award I'm holding is probably for my awesome outfit, not the well built steer. 

I always loved the toughness it took to raise steers. Halter breaking them and caring for the hugeness of it somehow made me feel significant. Steers seemed determined even though their ultimate greatness would be in the quality of t-bone steak they produced. Sheep on the other hand were not great in my book. They were stupid and smelly, but I loved showing them. When I would show steers they were big enough to hide behind, so I always felt like showing my sheep took more finesse and focus. I'm sure it didn't make a difference, but to a young self-centered teenager, I felt how I showed the animal made a world of difference...good eye contact, setting its legs in the right place, holding its head perfectly. I loved the showmanship aspect. I could never control whether or not my animal had the right muscle and structure to win, but I could control if I won the showmanship award. It was often my goal at the fair. 

After we moved to New Mexico, my 4-H days ended. However, I then entered the fanciness of the Future Farmers of America club (FFA.) My teacher recruited me for the American Quarter Horse judging team. In 1991, I could easily tell you which horse in a class of four was the "nicest balanced, heaviest muscled horse in the class." In fact, our team won the state competition and went to the world competition in Oklahoma City where I placed ninth overall. That's right, you are reading the blog of the 1991 9th place World Champion American Quarter Horse judger. No autographs please. 

The world of agriculture shaped me in many ways. I learned responsibility, caring for something that was dependent upon me, the life cycle, community living, money management, business, leadership, and had much fun. In the words of one of my favorite country artists, this is "where I come from." 

Where do you come from? Please share something quirky from your childhood with us. Give us a window into your upbringing. 

Fantastic Photos You Probably Want to See

Last year when I turned 39, I wrote a post titled Reflecting on the Nines. As I re-read it I got a little choked up. I wrote, "As I've thought about age and reflected through the years of my life, I realized the nines have each ushered in significant seasons of difficulty, change, and growth." Whoa. If you have read anything on this blog in the last year, you know that age 39 completely lived up to that prophetic sentence. 

Interestingly enough, the year began with me being healthier than I had been in my adult life. I was insanely strong from my Insanity workouts. I was eating healthier than I had ever eaten in my life. I had lost a significant amount of weight. Higher than a kite, I thought I would enter my 40s on the tallest parade float with a noisy brass band leading the way. 

But then you know what happened. I went from the healthiest time in my life to a major health change just moments before teaching my spin class. 

Well, guess what! I'm still going to kick 40 in the derriere! I've learned beautiful, profound, life changing, character refining lessons that I trust God will use to guide me along the parade route. I've always said I didn't want to coast through life on puffed up head knowledge, so I figure God is simply providing ways for me to put my money where my mouth is!  

Now for a little fun. Walk with me down memory lane... 

One year old. It doesn't look like I'm interested in getting myself all up in that cake. I've always been so proper. 

See! I told you! A proper little first grade beauty queen. I still have this sweet little dress hanging in my closet. My mom made it for me. I thought it was the most lovely twirly dress in the world.

Oh yeah. I know you are digging that hair! This is one thing I would change. No, not the hair. That is fabulous 1989 hair. I would ditch the cheerleader gig and do something less controversial and enemy causing like play volleyball or study for Algebra. But, no regrets. If I hadn't been a cheerleader how would I have ever learn to clap my hands and move my arms in sync with a group of girls? 

My red shorts outfit is almost as awesome as my mom's 70s hair! 

But my dad wins the award for best hair in this blog post. I seriously love that he is hunting while carrying me in a back pack. 

I love this photo so much. My parents were pretty hip. 

Doesn't my dad look happy to be awake? 

Most of you know it is an understatement to say I'm not an animal lover. The three monsters in this picture are a huge part of my disdain towards pets. Those dogs were obnoxious. I stepped in their poop more than any teenage girl should have ever had to bear. That cat? From Satan. (Sorry, Mom.) 

My cutie brother Joe. He would stand and yell, "JAN-GEL! COME PLAY WITH ME!" 

My cutie brother Tom. I'm rocking a very spectacular outfit. That is a gen-u-ine Guess t-shirt and my army green pants are tight rolled to perfection. My red Swatch is a nice little pop of color. You can tell I'm awesome because Tom looks so jealous that he isn't as cool as me! 

My dad took this picture. We were in our favorite town (San Angelo, Texas) at our favorite park. Happy, happy times. 

That's all for today, folks. I've got a few more embarrassing photos to post tomorrow. I do enjoy letting you have a glimpse into my back story. It helps give context and perspective, don't ya think?

Also, thanks for letting me get all sappy about turning 40. You guys really are making it a lot more fun for me.

So, what was your favorite picture? Which one made you laugh the most? Which one do you think I shouldn't have posted?