I love this time of year . . . the days starting with Thanksgiving week leading into Christmas . . . the flow of gratefulness into the celebration of the birth of our Savior.

For me there really is no delineation between Thanksgiving and Christmas . . . no real break or boundary between the two. For me it’s all the Holidays . . . the Holy Days . . . the days that are sacred and holy and beautiful and busy.

Not every moment will be spent in quiet contemplation. Most won’t. But there will be moments . . . moments when I stop to wonder and ponder what Mary must’ve held in her heart leading up to the days of the birth of Jesus. When I think of the young girl, hugely pregnant, riding on a donkey into Bethlehem only to find there was no place, other than a stable, to give birth to the Savior of the world. There will be moments in the midst of what is quite possibly our busiest time of year . . . running from basketball practices and games to field trips and parties . . . from baking to gift wrapping to church activities and office celebrations . . . that I pause and feel overwhelming praise and gratitude to God for the blessings in my life.

It’s not just during this season that all these things are true. Gratefulness and gratitude should be abundant year-round, but there’s something about these days that amplifies it for me. That reminds me to cherish these moments that are fleeting . . . to be fully present with those I love.

I haven’t written nearly as much these past few months as I would like. Life has kept me occupied to say the least. But from now until Christmas, I won’t be on here. I pray that God blesses you with quiet in the midst of chaos, with moments to reflect on all He has done for us, and that you remember that He loves you infinitely more than you can imagine . . .

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

Happy Holidays!

It is National Adoption Month. If you’ve been here for any length of time, you know that my husband and I are adoptive parents. November, in particular November 10th, holds a special place in our hearts not only because it’s National Adoption Month but because on this day eight years ago, a judge halfway around the world, ruled that our daughter could legally be a part of our family.

I’ve been thinking for a while about what I would like to say regarding this day and this month, and I came up with a few (plus some) thoughts:

• Adoption is beautiful, but adoption is hard. There is never a world where adoption doesn’t come from loss. To not acknowledge that is to do a huge disservice to our children, and regardless of why and how they came into our families, we need to respect the fact that separation from the birth mother is always a loss.
• My daughter isn’t lucky to have us. We are not her saviors. She isn’t lucky to not be wasting away in an orphanage. Children deserve to be loved, and nurtured, and cared for. Children deserve families. Period.
• Along the same lines, she wasn’t “created for us”. God didn’t create her just to be left as a very sick baby in an orphanage where she would never come close to being nurtured physically or emotionally just so we could have a daughter to adopt one day. I’ve always said, “She is our plan A, but we are her plan B.”
• Further, we don’t have a ton of info on her history, but we know where she is from. We know about the heritage of both her birth country and her ethnicity, and we want to teach her about and respect both.
• I can’t fix everything. Only God can truly heal, and I have to accept and understand that.
• I refuse to reduce adoption to nothing more than a “calling”. My child is not a project or the poster child for why you should adopt. She is a beautiful, blessed, and beloved daughter.
• Family preservation is always best. It’s, sadly not always possible, but it’s always best.

I am, shocking as it may be, not a perfect parent. Far from it actually, but I love my children deeply and equally. There is no distinction in our home between biological and adopted. There is however acknowledgement of how each child came into our family. We don’t deny it or ignore it. We respect it.

I pray that I never forget what a great honor and privilege it is to be able to parent my daughter. I pray that I never let my own needs, desires, or emotions take over her own. I pray that she knows and is confident in how deeply she is loved, valued, and desired.

“A child born to another woman calls me mom. The depth of the tragedy and the magnitude of the privilege are not lost on me.”

Jody Landers

I don’t stand out.

I’m not one of those people that walks into a room and others are naturally drawn to them. There’s certainly nothing wrong with being that person, but it’s most definitely not me.

Here’s the thing though, I also won’t put on a show or single out certain people to impress.

I don’t hide my feelings well. My face shows everything, and I’m not great at being a chameleon. I’ve never been great at wanting to be part of the popular crowd.

I tend to be pretty straightforward. Probably too straightforward (I’m working on it), but I’m not rude . . . I’m just not super outgoing and combined with sometimes being too honest, there are people that flat don’t like me because I’m not going to pretend or play games.

Some people think I’m quiet . . . I’m really not . . . those that know me well will confirm I love a good conversation, but I am introverted. I’m not shy, but I don’t like talking just to hear myself talk. I’m incredibly protective of my time and energy. I know my limits, and I know my priorities. I’m a hard worker. I’m loyal, and I’m dedicated.

The truth is, sometimes all of this means I fade easily into the background. Sometimes it means I’m invisible. Sometimes it means, I can pour myself into something, work my hardest, give my all and then watch as others are recognized, and I’m forgotten. It’s happened to me more than once, and if I sat here and told you that I don’t care, I’d be lying. It does hurt when people overlook you. It doesn’t feel great to feel invisible. That’s just human nature and reality.

We live in a world . . . we exist in a church in America . . . that applauds platforms. We celebrate celebrity. We think a platform means you’re automatically a world changer. We believe prominence equals relevance and righteousness. We want to be heard AND seen, and we believe if we’re not, we’re not doing big things for the Kingdom of God. We think that the only way to do it is with an audience, on a stage. Without recognition and applause, it’s not worth the cost.

I saw a post on Instagram today that said something to the effect of (I’m definitely paraphrasing here) . . . if no one ever sees me . . . sees me cleaning my house or singing to my kids or washing the dishes . . . do I still believe that I’m doing God’s work?

When I read that post, something shifted in me. I realized that God made me how I am and who I am. I don’t need the recognition or applause. Is it nice to be honored for what you do? Absolutely. But know this, as cliché as it sounds, if no one else ever sees you, if no one else ever recognizes what you’re doing for the Kingdom, God does.

He sees the mama singing to her baby at 2:00 a.m. He sees her wipe feverish brows, and pack another lunch, and pick up one more pair of socks. He sees the Sunday School teachers that work all week and show up on Sunday mornings to try to influence little minds for Christ all while refereeing sword fights and wiping snotty noses. He sees the exhausted youth leaders that are sitting with thousands of screaming teenagers wondering if they’re “too old” for this (it’s me . . . I’m the old, exhausted youth leader). He sees the teachers and the nurses that get none of the credit but all of the blame for way too little pay. He sees the parents praying for their kids . . . sometimes messing up and apologizing and trying again. He sees you, and He sees me, and make no mistake, none of us are invisible to our Savior.

We are not entitled to recognition. We don’t deserve accolades. While we’re here getting upset if our air conditioning doesn’t hit the perfect temperature and the music is “too loud” or “not loud enough”, on the other side of the world Christians are literally risking their lives to worship Christ. They lay it all on the line every time they speak His name. They don’t do it for the applause of this world which is fickle and fading. They do it for the glory of God which is everlasting. It’s not about us y’all. It’s not about me. It’s only about Jesus Christ and Him crucified. All of the rest is just noise. Full stop. That’s it.

“Take care not to practice your righteousness in the sight of people, to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven. So when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, so that they will be praised by people. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But when you give to the poor, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your charitable giving will be in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. And when you pray, you are not to be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners so that they will be seen by people. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But as for you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” Matthew 6:1-6

I have two children. One who is 16, a bit of a hot mess when it comes to organization, but also, an incredibly driven hard worker and high achiever. He’s academically gifted, and it seems, also athletically inclined especially in mid distance track. My youngest is 10. She has special needs, and she has a magnificent gift and ear for music. She’s active and smart and funny and a complete free spirit.

Some people would say I’m too hard on my kids.

Some would say I just have high expectations.

Here’s what I say . . . I’m not easy on my children, and I do have high expectations. The expectations I have for them are not identical. They are unique to their age, maturity, personalities, gifts, and talents, but they are there none-the-less.

AND in spite of needs, I refuse to enable my children. That doesn’t mean I don’t help and advocate if and when it’s necessary, but it’s rare (read: never) that I step in and save them from something they did or did not earn. Because at the end of the day, as I’ve said 1000 times before, my goal is to raise two people that are as responsible and as independent as they are capable of being.

So I put a lot back on them. And sometimes, I let them fail. I let them sit on the bench, both proverbially and literally even if it pains me. It teaches a lesson they will never learn if I’m constantly stepping in to rescue them and make sure they get their way.

You want to play more? You want more time on the court or the field? You want to advance in your sport of choice? Then it’s up to you. Put in the work. And then put in more work. Mom and Dad aren’t running to your rescue.

You want the reward the entire class is getting? You want recess and field trips and to participate in all the fun things? Listen to your teacher. Show self-control with your words and your actions.

You want to attend the college of your choice? Study. Turn in your assignments on time. And then study more.

You forgot your important paper? Your project? Your lunch? You’re going to have to take the hit, eat in the cafeteria (no one is starving here), and suffer the consequences.

You want devices? A car? More freedom? A driver’s license? Show yourself responsible enough to handle it . . . all of it.

The list goes on, but the point is, I see too many parents stepping in where they shouldn’t. Managing their teenagers’ and elementary children’s (to a somewhat lesser extent) lives as if they’re five. Running to teachers and coaches to try to save them. Not only does it not teach our kids to take responsibility for themselves, but in the end it is demoralizing.

Demoralizing – to deprive of courage or confidence ¹

When we constantly step in where we shouldn’t, we are literally stealing from our children the chance to become more courageous and confident.

We give our children the tools to succeed. We don’t rob them of that, but then we have to step back so they can decide to use those tools. Sometimes, we have to let them figure it out on their own. Let them learn the hard lessons. Let them fail. It builds confidence, courage, and character . . . and that is when, win or lose, play or sit the bench, we see true, lifelong success.

1. https://www.merriam-webster.com/thesaurus/demoralizing ↩︎

After over two weeks of silence, I was all set to sit down and write about my oldest turning 16 . . . about the fact that it hit me the other day that I’m no longer looking at a boy but up to a young man . . . about the tug of war that is parenting a child turning into an adult . . . about letting go again and again and again . . .

And I will write that . . . but not today . . . because today, like so much of the world, my heart is heavy. I sit and watch in complete horror the atrocities being enacted against the nation of Israel. I watch as parents no longer have the blessing of watching their little boys grow into young men and little girls grow into young women. I watch as pure evil robs innocent lives and seeks to utterly destroy the Jewish people. I watch. I’m heartbroken. I look at my children and realize what a privilege it is to see them grow up, and I can’t sit and pretend as if it’s simply just another day. I will not compartmentalize. I will not look away and carry on as usual.

There is a tradition in the Jewish culture when someone passes away called sitting Shiva. “For seven days, the family members of the deceased gather in one location – typically their own home or the home of the deceased – and mourns the loss in a variety of ways.” ¹ I could give you endless explanations as to why I support Israel. I could talk about the fact that I believe that they have been and always will be the chosen people of God. I could explain that unlike some, I don’t buy into replacement theology . . . the belief that the Christian church has replaced Israel. I could go on about prophecies and the end of times. And there is a time and place for all of that. Today is not that time. Here is not that place. Today, we sit with those who mourn, if not physically, in spirit. Today is the time to mourn with those who mourn and weep with those who weep. Today is the time to acknowledge the heartbreak and devastation . . . to hold a place for the deep grief and sorrow of the Jewish people. Today is the day to hold them in our hearts . . . to pray for peace and healing of Israel.

We will not look away.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15

1. https://www.shiva.com/learning-center/sitting-shiva ↩︎

Two things that are no secret if you’ve been around here for more than a minute:

1. We are in an insanely busy season of life.
2. I struggle with rest. A lot.

Regarding #1 . . . we’re busy . . . I’ve written about it, complained about it, vowed to fix it, and now I’ve reached the point of finally accepting it. We’re busy because that’s life with a 10 and almost 16-year-old. But with that, I’ve also come to the point of refusing to add more to our plates or fill a role just because someone else thinks we should. If it’s right, I’ll do it. If it’s not, I won’t. I have written, ad nauseam, about learning the value in saying “no”. So, I won’t continue to beat that drum . . . I’ll just say, there is so much freedom in being able to say “no” even when a wrong “yes” would be easier.

Regarding #2 . . . the need to perpetually keep going . . . which I’m well aware is in direct contradiction to me working on saying “no”. The issue is I have to learn to say “no” to myself and the never satisfied taskmaster and inner critic that constantly tell me, I’m not doing enough . . . I feel like there is always one more thing that needs to be done. One more task to be completed. Is the house clean? Yes. Then the windows should be washed. Are the windows washed? Yes. How about the porches? The dog needs a bath. The flowerbeds need to be weeded. The laundry needs to be done. The car needs to be vacuumed. I should bake bread . . . prep for meals . . . I struggle to stop. I struggle with rest.

I’ve tried, for quite some time, to figure out how to “remember the Sabbath and keep it holy”. Sundays are not restful days for me. They are holy days, but they are also kind of chaotic. Patrick and Andrew have to be at church early for worship practice. Two Sundays a month we teach youth. Sunday afternoons are full of prepping for the week ahead and getting everything ready to go. Beyond that, I’ve struggled to figure out what it really means to rest. For me, a day in my pjs on the couch often leaves me restless rather than rested, but I also feel a conviction to rest. To allow myself the margin to not constantly be working on something.

And He said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.” Mark 2:27

The reality is, God created the Sabbath for us, and how rest looks may be different for each of us. I am in no way discounting the importance of Sunday worship, but for many of us who serve, Sundays contain a good portion of work rather than rest. Further, His command to remember the Sabbath, the day of rest, was not meant to be restrictive but freeing. And in a busy season of life, I’m learning to incorporate Sabbath rhythms wherever I can. It may mean, choosing to do only what has to be done on a Saturday . . . a few loads of laundry (laundry doesn’t bother me at all) . . . possibly cooking a meal, but most definitely not scrubbing my shower. It could mean a long run with worship music or curling up on the sofa with coffee and a book. It looks different from week to week and month to month, as our schedules are continually changing, but ultimately, my goal is to be intentional in creating and allowing spaces and moments of rest for myself . . . to purposefully choose, in those times, to not do things that tax me, even if I don’t mind them . . . even if at times, I find them enjoyable.

Which leads me to this space. There are times when I find writing restful and freeing. Times when it comes easily and without a lot of work. Other times, it’s harder. Especially when I put undue pressure on myself to produce. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve been on here. It may be two or three more before I’m back again. The truth is, in the moments I do have to sit and write, I’ve found myself pulled more and more to take those moments to rest . . . to honor God and remember the Sabbath in those brief and fleeting moments when no thing or person is demanding my immediate attention.

I don’t want to look back one day and realize I lived my life as an unending list of tasks to be done and to-do lists to check off. Resting certainly isn’t all we should be doing, God gave us one day to rest and six to work, but it is an integral part of living my life to the fullest. Of living fully present in each moment. And in this crazy busy and beautiful season of life, I want to be sure that I’m allowing myself room to rest so I can be fully ready to take on whatever each day brings.

It’s no secret that I love NYC. I think it’s one of the most beautiful and vibrant places I’ve ever visited. I’ve had the immense honor of visiting Ground Zero and the 9/11 Memorial and Museum more than once. Yet, I only have a few photos. It’s not a place where you pull out your phone to snap dozens of fun touristy pics. It’s a place, that even on the most beautiful of days, carries a weight and solemnity that cannot adequately be described or conveyed in words. It’s a place of mourning and hope … of heartbreak and healing.

It would be easy to wake up on this Monday morning and get busy doing all the things on a very long to-do list. I would be easy to shove that day, 22 years ago, to the back of my mind … to not think about sitting on the sofa, in my tiny apartment living room, with my roommates and watching the towers fall. To not think about the grief and the heartache that came with that day. To not recall the fear and uncertainty that followed. But if I choose to ignore the memories … to shut them down and out, I also choose to ignore the beauty from the ashes of that day. The tears mingled with hope. The comfort found as we came together as one nation under God.

It’s a day and an experience I hope and pray we never have to relive in America. To this day, I pray and grieve for those who lost loved ones on what is one of the most tragic days in United States history. The passage of time cannot erase the losses of that day 22 years ago. And yet, we must remember. History forgotten is dangerous. History not acknowledged is history that will be repeated. May we never forget what happened that day, and may we also remember who we were in the aftermath … a country heartbroken but united … devastated but not decimated.

“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3‬:‭1‬-‭8‬

For some people you’re always going to be too much . . . you’re going to do too much, talk too much, love God too much, serve too much, worship too much, be too busy . . .

For other people you’re never going to be enough . . . you won’t do enough, you won’t be friendly enough, love God enough, serve enough, worship enough, be busy enough . . .

If you’re extrovert, you should be an introvert . . . if you’re an introvert, you should be an extrovert. If you’re loud, you should be quiet, and if you’re quiet, you should be loud. If you’re shy, you’re not outgoing enough, but if you’re outgoing, you should probably tone it down a bit.

It’s the reality of being human in a world where we’re all tempted to judge others based not on standards set up in God’s word, but instead, on standards created by our opinions, interests, and preferences. And if you’re a person that tends to find themselves caught in the trap of people pleasing, this can be an absolute nightmare. You’ll spend more time trying meet the expectations of everyone around you, rather than being who God created you to be. On the flip side, we all are guilty of making snap judgments based on what we see in front of us, rather than letting people be the person they were created to be.

What’s the solution? It’s the simplest and hardest thing ever . . . it’s not that we stop caring about treating others well, or that we never make compromises and meet others halfway. It is that we stop trying to contort ourselves into someone we’re not to fit the expectations of others. We have to be okay with the fact that some people aren’t going to like us. They’re going to judge us and based upon those judgments, there will always be people who feel like we should be doing more . . . or less . . . that we should be more or less . . . whatever the case may be. We have to learn to be fine with this . . . because I can promise you the blood of Jesus covers all the gaps and all the excesses, and He loves us without condition. We were created by a loving and gracious God, and we need to embrace the fact that He wants us to come to Him, not all cleaned up and pretty with a bow on top, but in all of our “too much/not enough” glory.

For the LORD does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart. From 1 Samuel 16:7

You know this, my beloved brothers and sisters. Now everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger. James 1:19

If I think I’m never wrong, I’m arrogant and full of pride.

If I think another person is never wrong, that’s idolatry and putting a man (or woman) in a place meant only for God.

I’ve learned I can’t live in an echo chamber. I can’t only listen to what I want to hear. I can’t cherry pick the Bible to make it work for me. Sometimes I have to step back, listen, and reflect. I need to pause and pray and study the Word to be sure that I’m not taking scriptures out of context … that what I’m saying and believing is true . . . I need to go back to the Bible, often back to the original text, and dive deeply into what I’m being taught to be sure that the people I’m following, that I’m both listening and looking to, are truly following and teaching the Word of God. I have to realize that something sounding or feeling good is not the measure by which truth is decided. We don’t force the truth to match our theology, but our theology to match the truth. Further, we don’t bend scripture to line up with our worldview, but instead, our worldview should be bent toward scripture.

I’ve thought a lot recently about criticism. When, if ever, is it appropriate? When is it not? I strongly dislike it when people create a career or a ministry solely for the purpose of criticizing others. But the reality is we all have blind spots. Blind spots in our own personal beliefs. Blind spots when it comes to those we see as leaders and mentors in our lives. I also know that, as a Christian, there are times when it my responsibility to not only stand up against sin, that one is obvious, but also, I must stand against false and erroneous teachings. On the flip side, I also have the responsibility to stop and listen when others are calling me out as well. Does that mean I’m always wrong? No, but it’s possible I am. Does it mean I’ll change my mind? Maybe . . . maybe not. But as the old adage goes, God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason. As a follower of Christ, I am commanded to test and examine that which I’m being taught and that which I’m believing, and I must be sure I’m not just listening to what gives me all the warm fuzzies.

We urge you, brothers and sisters, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek what is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit, do not utterly reject prophecies, but examine everything; hold firmly to that which is good, abstain from every form of evil. 1 Thessalonians 5:14-22

Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and exhort, with great patience and instruction. For the time will come when they will not tolerate sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires, and they will turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths. But as for you, use self-restraint in all things, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry. 2 Timothy 4:2-5