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Wednesday, June 4, 2014

When Doing Nothing is Actually Something


I’ve just finished reading Kathi Lipp’s new book I Need Some Help Here. I had the privilege of contributing a “Story from the Trenches” in the chapter entitled…gulp…"When My Child is Lacking Character.” (If you’d like a front row seat to what happens in our vehicle during our 15 minute commute to and from school, you can buy the book by clicking HERE).
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/i-need-some-help-here-kathi-lipp/1117107091?ean=9780800720780
Need Some Help?

She’s addressed many tough parenting topics, most of which she’s slogged through first-hand.

But one particular little nugget keeps resonating with me.

Doing nothing.

It’s really counter intuitive in a culture that produces infinite pins, tweets, blogs, and posts. They all tell us how to do things: throw a party, bake a radical birthday cake, eat clean, cook healthier, exercise efficiently, pray scripturally, volunteer, donate, not to mention that 2,961 other things we must do “daily.”

I’ve done or tried to do all of the above, and there is value in all of them. The truth is, I really like taking action. I like measurable results and crossing things off my list.

But when it comes to mothering there are some occasions where I’m realizing the best thing to do is…nothing.

·         When the boys forget the essentials for their activities--baseball glove, football pads, basketball shoes (for an out-of-town tournament!! Grrr!), I want to ask around and borrow a glove, drive home and get the pads, or go buy a new pair of basketball shoes.

·         When my wannabe-Buck-Commander needs $50 extra to buy the online-special-this-weekend-only bow that he’s been saving for, I want to put it on my card and Instagram his beaming smile.

·         When they try to draw me into an argument over rules and decisions, I want to take the bait, reason with them and think to myself, “Surely a tired child will understand if I just explain myself a little louder.”

“But when you rescue your kids, it’s like taking pain meds after you’ve broken your arm. You feel better for a while, but not only are you not fixing the problem, you’re probably making it worse.” (~ Kathi Lipp, pg. 84)

What makes it even harder to do nothing is that “No one is giving blue ribbons to the mom who is biting her tongue. But know that every time you “don’t,” you are doing the deep, hard, God-breathed stuff that is growing you and your kids.” (pg. 71)

And that is the secret to why I’ll keep doing nothing. Shhh…I’m actually doing something.

·         When I make my boys ask around to borrow a glove, when they sit sidelined without pads, when they play basketball in their very non-basketball sneakers, I do nothing. Still, they are learning. Learning to plan ahead, get organized and be responsible.

·         When I allow the $50 burden of debt to rest on him, I do nothing. He counts the days of chores until his debt will be paid. And it seems like he will “never get there.” He is learning that the borrower is a slave to the lender, and chores are even less fun when your pay goes directly to your creditor.

·         When I have explained myself once and, by some miracle of God, I actually refrain from arguing, I do nothing. Still, they learn that I mean what I say. “No,” means “no,” despite your elaborate monologue.

Beyond these lessons, I hope the boys are learning something more profound: moms can solve precious few of life’s problems. Kathi says it like this: “Understand that moms make lousy shelters. When it comes to shelters, we are like cardboard refrigerator boxes. Yes, we can provide some safety. Yes, we can make a good short-term hiding place, but we’re pretty flimsy and totally unresistant to the weather when storms come. We need to keep pointing our kids to our Strong Tower [God], the only True Shelter that any of us ever has. Yep—that means leaving them out in the cold sometimes so they will seek a more Permanent Shelter.” (pg. 85)

I pray my “do nothing” approach will eventually lead them to seek shelter in Jesus—the Only One who can truly rescue any of us.

Photo courtesy Kim de Blecourt

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Run Your Race


Photo by Bob Jagendorf
'Tis the season to be racing. State track meets, 5Ks, 10Ks, half-marathons, marathons and ultra-marathons (Lord, save me!)
There was a brief period of my life where I hesitantly referred to myself as a “runner.” “Shuffler” would have been a more accurate term, but for clarity’s sake I said “runner.”

Though I didn’t set any land-speed or distance records, I did learn a lot about tenacity. And my brief tenure as a “runner” has been an apt metaphor for almost every circumstance since.

Want to talk about dieting? Spiritual growth? Musical education? Foster care? Career changes? Writing? I can make all kinds of applications in light of my grueling days on the treadmill as I clipped off 3 miles in 35 minutes.

(in)courage.me
Oh yes I did.

Today, I have the honor of guest posting at (in)courage.me. I’ve written about just one of the many lessons I learned and you can click here to read about it.
I hope you’ll join me there. If you’re encouraged or at least slightly entertained, feel free to share as a way of helping me thank (in)courage for allowing me to contribute.

Monday, May 26, 2014

When You Reap What You Didn't Sow



About a year ago Kathi Lipp—author and speaker with MOPS International—asked her readers to submit stories of not-so-pretty mom moments for her next book. It was a great opportunity, and I had a big decision to make! Which one to submit? So many to choose from. *Sigh*
This week I received an advanced copy of Kathi’s new book entitled I Need Some Help Here! HOPE forWhen Your Kids Don’t Go According to Plan, and there on page 134 was my little “Story from the Trenches.”
The book releases tomorrow. If you’d like to pre-order a copy, Click HERE. Kathi’s book offers hope and help for moms in various stages of motherhood. I read it this week, and she’s been very honest and practical.
As one of the contributors I have the honor of posting at Kathi Lipp’s blog today for her "Bad Mom Mondays" link up.  
It is an honor and privilege, and you can click here to read my post, When You Reap What You Didn’t Sow. But consider yourself warned. I’ve written about a “Bad Mom Moment.” It’s not pretty. Kind of embarrassing actually. But if you’re brave enough to click over and read, I hope you’ll be reminded of the magnitude of Christ’s work for us.
If you find it helpful or encouraging, would you help me thank Kathi for her generosity and her ministry to moms by sharing it via facebook and twitter?
Thanks, Friends.
 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Happy Mother's Day!!


Perhaps you read my helpful indicator for teachers earlier this week. I am glad to report I’ve updated it with a few lines from Levi’s first grade teacher and her twin sister. They are the real deal. And they’re hilarious too.

Frankly, I have a more experience as a mom than a teacher. So, just in case you’re so sleep deprived and harried, that you can’t remember whether or not you’re a mom, I devised a simple indicator.
 
You Might be a Mom...

1.       If your purse doubles as a trash can, you might be a mom.

2.       If you carry baby wipes in your purse and vehicle long after your babies are grown, you might be a mom.

3.       If the sight of a potty chair evokes strong emotions of nostalgia, angst or the urge to yank down the pants of the nearest toddler, you might be a mom.

4.       If an extended hospitalization sounds like a vacation, you might be a mom.

5.       If you’ve ever been secretly relieved when a strep-test came back positive-knowing you’d be headed home with a precious bottle of antibiotics and all afflicted parties would be feeling better in 24 hours or less—you might be a mom.

6.       If you have mixed emotions about the sound of silence—alternately euphoria and dread—you might be a mom.

7.       If jumping on the trampoline is no longer a “care free” activity, you might be a mom.

8.       If you were a blubbering puddle of tears 15 minutes into Toy Story 3, you might be a mom.

9.       If you can leap from the front seat of your mini-van to the third row in a single bound and make a diving catch in order to rescue the upholstery from your carsick child, you might be a mom.

10.   If you’ve ever used your food processor in the garage during your child’s nap time to keep from waking him with the ear-splitting, vegetable-chopping noises, you might be a mom.

Your turn…

Happy Mother’s Day, Mamas!

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Are You a Teacher?

Maybe it's been a long day, or a long week, or a long 8 months. And you know you've been going to work every day, but you're not sure if you're a zookeeper, a prison warden or a teacher.

I understand how that can happen. I spent a few days in the classroom last year as a substitute teacher, and I have nothing but deference and respect for you. In fact, I have previously recommended we remove our hats to salute a teacher whenever she walks in the room.

So, for Teacher Appreciation Week, I've provided a few indicators based on my limited classroom experience to help you determine if you might be a teacher.

I suspect there are a few REAL teachers who could add to this helpful list. Please do so in the blog comments, or the facebook comments.

You Might be a Teacher


  1. If you’ve ever identified the graffiti artist by the way the words are misspelled, you might be a teacher. 

  1. If you can tell the content of a child’s complaint by the tone with which he says your name, you might be a teacher.

  1. If you have ever looked at a Hershey bar or large pizza and suddenly formulated a lesson plan about fractions, you might be a teacher.

  1. If you’ve ever accidentally used the terms “inappropriate response” or “expected behavior” with your spouse, you might be a teacher.
 
  1. If you’ve ever considered writing a letter of complaint to Dixon and Oriental Trading Company for making pencils that never sharpen, you might be a teacher. 

  1. If you’ve ever thought of creating a facebook fan page for Ticonderoga because they make pencils that actually DO sharpen, you might be a teacher.
 
     7.  If you've ever attended an "Indoor Recess Support Group," you might be a teacher.
 
Teachers, your turn :-)

Update: Levi's first grade teacher and her twin sister added these hilarious tidbits:

If you go to sit in your chair and find it's already taken by a kid "warming it up," you might be a teacher.

If you can sing songs about giant gas balls in space--particularly Uranus, without batting an eye, you might be a teacher.

If you can break into song and dance while teaching addition and subtraction or r-controlled vowels, you might be a teacher.

If you can tell the difference between "I need to go to the bathroom" and "I NEED to go to the bathroom," you might be a teacher.

If a magical drink of water cures a stomach ache, a headache, or even a sliver, you might be a teacher.

If you feel like a rock star every time you go to Wal-Mart because kids are hollering your name, you might be a teacher.

If you correct kids' behavior no matter where you are, you might be a teacher.

If you feel the need to do the "attention clap" at the dinner table, you might be a teacher.

If there are times in those public places you really wish you had your playground whistle, you might be a teacher.

If you have to go hug and talk to at least 4 kids when picking up your own kids, you might be a teacher.

If you've ever walked around sniffing kids for the cause of that "unusual smell," you might be a teacher.

Or if you just say, "does anyone need to go to the bathroom?" after smelling the unusual smell, you might be a teacher.

 If you get more excited about birthday treats than your kids, you might be a teacher!

If you sneak an extra of the really good birthday treats (or am I the only one?), you might be a teacher.