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30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Plans {Day 21}

The beginning is a great place to start! Click here for Day 1.

I know of a young woman who planned great things for her life. She was simple and came from humble surroundings, but like all girls her age, big dreams filled her heart. She thought about getting married and having a home of her own. She dreamed about rocking babies and raising a slew of children with the man she loved.

Then one day, all those plans seemed to fall apart. She was pregnant. She! The good girl, the one who always did everything right, she was going to have a baby. It wouldn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t do anything wrong—people would look at her differently. People would always wonder, maybe even her beloved.

All the plans in her heart came crashing down.

Yet somehow, she still trusted that God was directing her steps, and that God was leading her to the best possible place. When the circumstances of her life seemed most terrifying, she said, “I am the bondslave of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”

Her name was Mary, and the interruption of her plans involved the birth of our Savior. It was a plan that guaranteed her humiliation and removed her security. But she embraced it wholeheartedly.

Every time I read of Mary’s response to the Lord’s interruption to her life, I am astounded. She understood that her life was not her own, and she held her plans loosely in her hands.

I am not that way.

Many of my most frustrating parenting moments have come about because my plans have failed and I have not reacted by opening my hands to God’s new purposes. I do not always allow Him to direct my steps without a struggle, and I can’t seem to enjoy my children if the plan changes mid-morning or fails altogether.

Sometimes, the plans that fail are ordinary, like my plan to get to church on time that is derailed by children who do not eat fast enough or get dressed quickly enough. Sometimes, the plans I have are bigger, like the plan to buy a house, change jobs or balance a budget. What happens when the house falls through, the job doesn’t manifest, or an unexpected expense kills the budget? I usually fail to see God’s purposes in my failed plans.

Many, many, many are the plans in my heart. But it is God’s way to mess with the plans of men, to take us from a place of self-confidence and lead us to a place of faith. We see it Moses, who planned to fade into obscurity but was led instead to a burning bush in the middle of a desert and into a ministry he never wanted. We see it in Joseph, who planned to live a comfortable life under his father’s blessing, but ended up rotting in captivity in Egypt while his brothers got away with murder. We see it in Jacob, who planned to marry the pretty daughter. But he got the other one instead.

In every single one of these instances, God was found in the change of plans. God was leading His child to the place where He was.

It is important to understand that God does not lead us where He does not intend to meet us. He did not do it to our forefathers, and He does not do it to us. But we must hold His hand and walk by faith to get there.

Think of Abraham, who had to climb up the mountain with wood and a knife and the child of promise, the boy they had named Laughter for the remarkable way God had brought him about. Abraham had to be willing to let go of his own dreams and climb up the mountain in faith in order to see the hand of God in what seemed to be an unholy change of plan. If he had not gone, he would have missed it.

When your plans go awry, make it a practice to look for the presence of God. He has not led you into the wilderness to die; He has led you into the wilderness to show you a bush aflame with His glory. He has led you there to show you water from a rock and manna from heaven. He is there, waiting for you to take off your shoes, open your hands, and say, “Be it unto me according to your plan.”

If God is directing you steps, it means He is near enough to hold your hand. He is near enough to keep your steps from falling even though the path is uncharted. He stands next to you with the pot of burning oatmeal or the unexpected bill and He says to you, “Look for me here!”

Can you see God in the unexpected places today? Can you see Him in the change of plans or the interrupted schedule? If you can open your hands and walk in faith the place God has planned for you, you will find greater peace and contentment because that is where God is.

The mind of man plans his way. But the LORD directs his steps.
Proverbs 16:9

For further thought:

1) Think of an instance when God has allowed you to go through a change of plans in order to lead you to a better place. How did God protect or provide for you by allowing your plans to fail?

2) Read the birth story of Jesus in Luke 1. Would you have been able to respond the way Mary did? How can you be more open to God’s will today?

3) Memorize Proverbs 16:9. Encourage yourself with those words when it seems that all your plans are coming undone. Then, look for God in the place where He leads.

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Rest {Day 19}

Just joining us? You will find Day 1 of the series here.

When Daylight Saving Time ended about six weeks ago, I did not set my clocks back. I hate how it gets dark out at 4 pm, how my children are cranky for a week while they adjust to the new schedule, and how much more time my kids have to spend inside because night falls just as soon as they are finishing school. This year, I simply refused to participate.

We now operate by our own time.

This has worked out brilliantly for me. Using Glover Time, I never have to be out of the house before 10 am because that’s only 9 am to the rest of the Pacific Standard Time minions. My neighbors think I am an incredibly responsible person when my kitchen light turns on at 5:50 am. Yep, that’s me. Mrs. Morning Person with the five kids all dressed and memorizing Bible verses at 8 am.

The only hitch in my little rebellion against the Time Lords is Wednesday night. Wednesday night is when the kids and I go to our home group Bible study. Wednesday nights start at 7 pm in “real” time, which means we arrive at 8 pm Glover time. 8 pm Glover Time is bedtime, the only thing holy next to God. This is problematic.

But last week, I was relieve to find that the kids did not feel the least bit sleepy at the start of our home group. They did not feel the least bit sleepy when dessert was served or when the movie started. They did not feel the least bit sleepy as we drove home and counted Christmas lights.

But when we rolled in the driveway at 10:30 pm, Kya burst into tears. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know!” she wailed. “I just feel like crying!” She could not get out of the van. She was sobbing all over her new lilac colored puffy winter coat with matching accessories.

Micah had developed a sudden paralysis as well, which was unfortunate because his seat blocks the sliding door. Everyone waited.

“I can’t waaaaaaaaaalk,” he moaned.

“Micah! Ouch, stop pushing! I can’t get out! MOM! Micah won’t move!” My older two made their contributions to our Hallmark moment.

“Micah, come here,” I said, yanking him (it was a gentle yank) out of the car and tucking him under one arm.

“Mom! Don’t hurt me!” he wailed loudly enough to cause our neighbor to come to his window to see which of my children I was beating in the driveway.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, sweetie,” I said while fishing in the van with my free arm for the missing twin. “Paul, come here,” I said.

“I so TIRED, Mom!” Paul sighed, slumping down between his seat and mine where I could not reach him.

“I know you’re tired. But you need to get of the car first and I’ll get you all tucked into bed. Come here, Paul.” Paul obeyed but his lower lip stuck out and trembled. I scooped him up in my other arm and attempted to carry both boys up the front steps, even though I am painfully—I repeat, painfully—out of practice when it comes to carrying both boys up the front steps at the same time. Kya followed me, crying like I’d just told her she isn’t a real princess.

“Don’t worry, guys,” I gasped, wondering if my kids really would dial 911 if I passed out, or if they’d just jump on me. “I’ll have you cozy in a minute.”

But it took more than a minute to get everyone in bed. Kya wept over her toothbrush. Paul collapsed in the entryway and refused to take off his shoes. Micah face-planted onto the steps leading up to the bathroom where he moaned, “I tired…I tired…I tired…” to which Faith replied, “We heard you the first time!”

It was heartwarming, really. As I crashed into bed, I realized I had not even started my blog post for the next day. Not. Even. Started. It was supposed to be on enjoying my children, and specifically, weakness. That was funny, because the last half hour, I had absolutely cherished the socks off those little dumplings.

I should write on exhaustion, I thought. But I wasn’t quite ready to talk about it yet. I was secretly terrified that I had to get up in the morning and do this all over again. I had to teach school and parent alone and be alone and try to write what was on my heart in a way that wasn’t preachy or self-righteous or…fake. Also, I hadn’t shaved my legs in at least two weeks. Suddenly, that seemed important.

Vince Lomabrdi once said, “Exhaustion makes cowards of us all.” If by “coward” he meant “paranoid schizophrenic,” then yes. That quote is spot-on. Exhaustion was wreaking havoc in my home.

The opposite of exhaustion is rest. That’s something I used to get before I had children. In fact, before I had children, I didn’t have to think about rest much at all because it was usually available to me whenever I needed it. Now, it is something I have to find.

In the Bible, rest is equated with blessing, promise, and God’s favor. It is hope for the future. But it is also a command. I used to wonder why God commanded us to rest. Rest is one of our most basic needs as human beings, like food. We need deep, daily, restorative rest. God doesn’t need to tell us that.

Or does He?

The command to rest highlights the fact that there is something in our nature that fights it. We get squirrely about going to bed on time and resting in quiet devotion to God. In fact, we tend to do everything else first. We see it in Psalm 23, where God has to make us to lie down in green pastures.

We see it also in the church. We love the Ten Commandments, except that one about the Sabbath. That one no longer applies to us today, we say, and dispose of the beauty, grace, and gift of the Sabbath along with the Law. We want to fix people by plugging them into programs or doling out Scripture verses when often what they need is rest, true physical and spiritual rest.

We see it in our homes. We stay up too late working, pushing bedtime farther and farther back while we struggle to fit more into a day than a day can hold. When we have time, we tend to equate rest and relaxation, or worse, rest and entertainment. They are not the same things.

Rest is a discipline.

It is taking the time to restore our bodies and our souls. It means going to bed on time. It means humbling ourselves in quiet reflection before God. Those two things do not happen in front of the TV or at a BBQ with the neighbors. Rest takes work.

One of the greatest things we can do to foster our enjoyment of our children is to guard our times of rest. The very practical aspect of making sure your children go to bed on time and get enough rest (note to self) will work wonders on making them more enjoyable. Ensuring your own rest time will make you more enjoyable.

When I am tempted to overextend myself and fight against rest (which is often), I think of Jesus. Throughout the New Testament, we find him slipping away, even though the crowds of needy people pressed in around him and followed him wherever he went. Imagine that. There he is, the Savior of the World, the one who can fix all their hurts, heal their diseases, raise their dead—and he leaves them with their hands outstretched so he can go take a nap.

I think Jesus knew the intimacy between body and soul. He knew it is very difficult to have a restful soul without a rested body. Rest was essential to his ministry and to his health. He understood that he could not help any of those people if he was not restored in body and spirit. So he slept. And he prayed. He took the time to rest so he was equipped to do the work God had for him.

Surely, if the Son of God can leave blind men and beggars to rest, I can leave the dishes in the sink and go to bed on time. Surely, if the Son of God can find time to pray when all the world was waiting for him to do a work, I can find the time to settle my soul down with my Savior, even if it means saying no to entertainment or relaxation or leaving before the party has ended. Surely, if the Son of God needed to rest in order to do his best for those he loved, I do as well.

He restores my soul

Please join us tomorrow for Day 20: Food

For further thought:

1) Using a tool like www.biblegateway.com, search for the word “rest.” Notice how often the word is equated with a blessing. Do you view rest as a blessing or an obligation?

2) When was the last time you restored your soul by resting in God? Today, make it a point to get away with God for ten minutes. Pray. Rest in the promises of His Word. You will find yourself more equipped to love and enjoy your children for the rest of the day.

3) How is rest like an act of faith?

Bonus: Sometimes, we don’t get the rest we think we need and it can become an idol in our lives. If you have this struggle, you might want to read Counting the Hours, a story I wrote about that very thing.

30 Days to Enjoying Your Children More: Unplug {Day 18}

Welcome to our series! Find Day 1 here.

Last night, the kids and I lit the Christmas tree and turned off all the other lights in the house. We gathered candles and lit them too—a half a dozen or so scattered around the living room like fireflies. Faith and Jonathan brought two tall tapers to the table so we could have dinner in their hushed glow.

It was just the six of us, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, watching the flames and enjoying the comfort of sitting close and sharing a meal together. My children’s eyes twinkled, full of the wonder of Christmas, the enchantment of the evening, and the expectation of good things to come.

“I want to pray,” Kya said, unexpectedly. Micah’s warm little hand instinctively reached for mine and Paul put his hands over his eyes. Kya prayed right in the middle of the meal, just because she thought of something to say to God that couldn’t wait. “Thanks for making us,” she said.

It was a good prayer.

“I like this,” Jonathan said, nearly singeing his hair on the candle. All the other children smiled and nodded.

“I’m going to have a candle collection when I grow up,” Faith mused.

I watched her playing with the wax as it pooled up on the pewter candlestick like a glop of warm jam, and I was awed into silence. It takes so little to be happy. Sometimes, all it takes is a little quiet to let your ears hear what your heart is trying to speak.

But our world is far from silent. It has become ever louder with each passing generation until it seems that there is not a single place on this earth where the noise has not permeated. The average American spends nearly 5 hours a day watching television, two hours a day online, and at least an hour a day staring at a cell phone screen. Sixty-six percent of all American homes have three or more televisions, and seven out of ten homes keep the TV on during dinner. Most families have the TV on all the time, whether they are watching it or not.

There is no silence.

Our attentions are so divided, most of us multitask our media, watching TV and surfing the internet at the same time, listening to music while texting a friend and playing a Facebook game. It is no wonder we don’t enjoy our children. They are just another part of the noise.

Perhaps it’s time we unplug.

A few years ago, I made the decision to keep the TV off if my kids were awake. It was my habit to wake up and turn on the morning news shows. But I had become increasingly more aware of the fact that my children were watching what was on the screen. The programming, including scary news clips, was not meant for children. Neither were the commercials, which often sold products and services using very adult situations.

It was not an easy break. I missed it at first. But I reminded myself of this: no one ever got to the end of her life and said, “I wish I’d watched more TV.” I will not wish I’d sat on a couch more and stared at a box longer. No, I will wish I had lived my life more fully than that.

I am far from being free from the noise, however. My children will tell you that while I don’t watch TV, and I don’t own a cell phone, I do spend far too much of my day plunking away at my laptop. They know that if I am staring at the screen, they might have to ask a question two or three times before I hear them. Faith says, “Don’t you know Mommy’s in her computer trance?”

If I am not careful, I allow myself to engage more with my computer than I do with my children. I become frustrated because they are making noise and I can’t concentrate. I yell at them to stop arguing instead of getting up and going downstairs to see what’s wrong. I become annoyed when they need something from me because I am trying to work. I fill up my lap with a laptop instead of a child.

Have I really done anything better than what I was doing before? Of course not.

Enjoying my children means I must give them my full attention because I enjoy my children more when I am fully present, when they have both my ears, both my eyes, and my undivided delight. I enjoy them more when I am not attempting to multi-task my thoughts and my affections.

To do this, I must turn off the media. I have to keep the TV off, limit the times when I work or play on my computer, and let the phone go to voicemail.

Then, in the quiet, I can connect with my children. That means that when they are talking to me, I respond with my eyes. I watch their faces, not a screen. I listen with my ears to their voices, not to the TV or the music, and not texting someone at the same time. I answer with real words, not “Uh-huh.”

It is such a simple but profound difference. Your children know when you are not engaging with them. They can tell. That’s why they pat your arm and say your name over and over again when you’re busy doing something else. They want to know you are really there. They have learned that often, you are not.

Your children want all of you in their moment.

Unplug. Let the phone ring. Just because you have it with you does not mean it needs to control you. Let the texts go unanswered. Let Facebook update itself. Be unavailable today to the distractions of a noisy world and engage the people you really care about.

Today, make it a point to connect with your children in the quiet.

Unplug

Join us tomorrow for Day 19: Rest

For further thought:

1) Matthew 6:24 and Luke 16:13 talk about how we cannot serve two masters. We are unable to divide our affections. In the context, money is the second master, but anything can take God’s place in our hearts, including media. Does your media usage reflect the fact that you are trying to serve two masters? How is that working in your home?

2) Most people are familiar with the phrase, “A house divided cannot stand.” How is dividing your attention destructive to your family? How is it counterproductive to fill your home with sounds and images that do not reflect what you say you believe?

3) Today, keep track of how often you put your children second to media. Sometimes, it is appropriate to make them wait, but often it is not. Evaluate yourself. Are your affections divided? Are you too plugged in to a device and not as plugged in to your children as you need to be? What changes can you make to correct this problem?

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