Monthly Archives: July 2009
The Goal of Parenting
What should be the goal of parenting? To raise well-behaved kids? Talented, intelligent, well-rounded kids? Perfect kids? What is the standard for parental success? Sometimes I feel victorious simply for surviving the day. Parents seek to raise children who become functioning members of society who thrive as adults. Is that enough?
A friend and I have had several conversations about how training children ought to be heart-focused rather than behavior-focused. We want to mold their hearts and minds, not just their actions. This can be difficult to remember while enduring screaming tantrums and mortal humiliation in the grocery store.
Creative Correction has collected dust in my basement for about two years now. I’ve tried to read it several times, but each effort sought a quick fix. The author, Lisa Whelchel, wisely doesn’t provide quick fixes. Instead, she spends the first one hundred pages redirecting parents’ focus. This week I opened the book again, this time ready to read what was actually written. This is what I found in chapter two:
“It’s vital that we step away from the pandemonium of parenting from time to time and remind ourselves of the true goal — to have kids who are drawing an accurate picture of God in their hearts and learning how to relate to Him as their Creator each day … Though we should strive to be godly, we can never perfectly reflect God. Instead our goal should be to ensure that our reflection of God draws our children closer to Him — and that it makes them long to touch the real thing.”
For some reason, God has to keep reminding me that all of life has the same goal. I repeatedly try to compartmentalize my life. These are my writing goals; these are my ministry goals; these are my marriage goals; these are my parenting goals … But all areas of life fit neatly into one sphere of purpose: to honor God by becoming more like Him.
Do I want to strengthen my relationships? I should seek after and become more like God. Do I want to raise great kids? I should seek after and become more like God. Do I want to write something that’s relevant and points people to God? I should seek after and become more like God. Do I want to win my neighbors to Christ? Guess what I need to do.
I want my kids, my neighbors, my friends, my family, everyone I meet to long to touch God.
What’s your answer?
Last night I dreamed of a trip to the store. Exciting, I know, but wait. It was Wal-mart or Target or some likewise everything-you-want-you-can-get-here store. While browsing the aisles, two gorgeous women approached me. As I envied their red hair and olive skin, their green eyes pleaded with me. Thick Eastern European accents questioned: “Tell us about the day you met God.”
I smiled. “What do you mean?”
“The day you met God. We want to know about it.”
“How do you know I know God? Why are you asking me this?” I glanced around the store nervously, suspiciously.
“Please. Tell us about that day. We heard you talking and we want to know the story.”
As I stood there silent, wondering what I might have said to Rick and the kids (who were now two aisles away) that would have given these women initiative to approach me, the tall enquirers disappeared. In their place stood a shorter, plumper, average-mom looking woman.
“They’re gone,” she said.
“Where did they go? Why are they asking me this? What did I say?”
“Does it matter?” Then she faded away before me, and the two seeking women returned, this time with children of their own, just as beautiful as they.
I started my rehearsed testimony. “My mom believed in God and dragged me to church …”
The women weren’t listening. One child needed a new diaper while another pulled his mother’s hair. I tried to help them find the right light switch for the shelves which had by now transformed into a large wooden countertop and hutch. The women chatted, the children continued being children, and I, just before waking, realized my opportunity had passed.
“But set Christ apart as Lord in your hearts and always be ready to give an answer to anyone who asks about the hope you possess.” 1 Peter 3:15 (NET)
One of our assignments in college (remember I attended a Bible university) was to write three versions of our testimony, each a different length for a different time: 5 minutes, 2 minutes and 1 minute. You can always make your “answer” longer, but making it shorter on the spot can be difficult, to say the least. Somehow between that class (ten years ago) and now, I’ve forgotten the importance of brevity. I know it was just a dream, but what if it had been real? I never got to the point! Worse, I stalled and questioned and hesitated. How much clearer could the question have been? “Tell us about the day you met God.” Really? I didn’t know what they wanted? And who cares why they asked; I should have had an answer ready.
I think believers sometimes focus more on verse 16 than 15. The verse immediately after this one (the one quoted above) tells us how to give the answer: with respect and courtesy, gentleness and reverence. How do these civil instructions encourage silence? Somehow, I fear, we’ve translated respect into silence. We don’t want to offend, so we keep our answers to ourselves. We don’t want to scare them off, so we nod our head and say a silent prayer that one day they’ll encounter the truth.
Here’s the ticket, people: WE HAVE THE TRUTH. It’s our job to share it.
Are you ready? Do you know the answer? Do you share it when asked?
Mama Loves: my life!
It’s Tuesday and that means it’s time to review my blessings. Mama Loves is my (mostly) weekly exercise in positive thinking, a practice based on Philippians 4:8-9.
Life ebbs and flows. A couple weeks ago I was in a funk and couldn’t seem to get out of it. Now I can’t decide which thing to rave about. So, you’re getting a list.
1. Mama loves Zach’s passion. This summer he has been exceptionally hot and cold over seemingly everything. There is no middle ground. He either loves it or hates it and will loudly make known his preferences. He runs into the yard full force screaming: “PETER RABBIT, YOU BETTER STOP EATING MY MOMMY’S FLOWERS!!!” He chases my nemesis, the groundhog, the shovel and dances victoriously when the behemoth rodent retreats to his underground lair. My favorite episode of the summer, though, was Zach “singing” at the top of his lungs as we strolled through the mall. “In the name of Jesus, in the name of Jesus! I have strength to do good things in the name of Jesus!”
2. Mama loves Ellie’s love for God. Last week I read her a new-to-us children’s book that talked about Jesus coming again. I guess I had never mentioned this before. We talk a lot about Heaven and salvation and obedience and grace, but I must have omitted the second coming because she immediately jumped off the bed. “Jesus is coming? To earth? Are you sure, Mom? I’m SO EXCITED! I gotta go make Him a picture!” She spent the rest of the day drawing love notes for Jesus. Here’s one of them.
And here’s one of our family at the wedding a few weeks ago.
Notice she’s still a little upset about me cutting my hair last fall. At least now she’s drawing hair on me, but she makes sure I know that without a dress, I would look just like a boy.
3. Mama loves being spoiled with an amazing mother-in-law. I have many friends who struggle with their “outlaws,” so much that I hesitate to mention how blessed I am. Seriously, I’m completely spoiled. In fact, I think Rick’s mom favors me over all her biological children. I’m their favorite. She scrubs my kitchen floor and claims to enjoy it. She drives three hours roundtrip to take the kids for a third of that time and give me some solitary writing time. This past weekend we went shopping together. I needed underwear and felt a little awkward, until she reminded me she would see it all the next time she does my laundry anyway. Yup. I’m completely, utterly, undeniably spoiled. The only thing I lack is a good picture of the two of us together.
4. Mama loves this picture.
See that hottie on the far left with the smoldering eyes and chiseled face? That my Rick. I have no idea who the other guys are nor why the two in the middle are making goofy faces, but I do know my man is F-I-N-E. He kissed me before leaving for work this morning. His cologne lingered on my face for a good fifteen minutes afterward. My mother-in-law is amazing, but her son … wow. Yeah … wow.
5. Mama loves that after more than ten years of marriage, I still feel like Cinderella: the poor girl with a disfunctional family who marries a prince and lives happily ever after. God has been so good to me!! Yesterday, today and forever, I am blessed simply because He knows me and calls me His child.
Give me less
If you could only ask two things of God, what would you request? Any two things in all the world and imagination. And, no, you can’t ask for more wishes. What would you choose?
I’ve requested many things from God. A bigger house, so that I can exercise the gift of hospitality properly. A more organized mind, so that I can manage my household more efficiently. The perfect opportunities, so that I may bring glory to His name most profoundly. These requests may be fine and good, but they’re based on my finite understanding. Furthermore, they hint of pride.
Oh, yes, I already have the gift of hospitality and, yes, yes, I want what I deem efficient and proper. If only God would give me the right opportunities, then I could honor Him rightly. Why does He delay in provision, preventing me from using my magnificent abilities??
I read Proverbs 30 this morning. The first nine verses include a discussion between a skeptic and a believer. Check it out. (Normally, I don’t like quoting The Message, but I really like the way Peterson paraphrased this passage. For further study, be sure to check out actual translations of Scripture.)
The skeptic swore, “There is no God! No God!—I can do anything I want! I’m more animal than human; so-called human intelligence escapes me. I flunked ‘wisdom.’ I see no evidence of a holy God. Has anyone ever seen Anyone climb into Heaven and take charge? Grab the winds and control them? Gather the rains in his bucket? Stake out the ends of the earth?Just tell me his name, tell me the names of his sons. Come on now—tell me!”
The believer replied, “Every promise of God proves true; he protects everyone who runs to him for help. So don’t second-guess him; he might take you to task and show up your lies.”
And then he prayed, “God, I’m asking for two things before I die; don’t refuse me — Banish lies from my lips and liars from my presence. Give me enough food to live on, neither too much nor too little.
If I’m too full, I might get independent, saying, ‘God? Who needs him?’
If I’m poor, I might steal and dishonor the name of my God.”
What two things did the believer ask? (1) Set me in the center of truth and (2) give me just what I need for today, no more, no less.
As consumers, especially in America, we believe we always need more. We need more food, more comfort, more clothes, more technology, more coffee, more sex, more friends, more entertainment … more of everything. But in acquiring all of this, are we seeking to be free of God? Are we seeking independence from our Creator and Sustainer?
God likes reversing human logic. The last shall be first and the first shall be last. The servant shall be greatest of all. The weak shall be strong and the strong made weak. Love your enemies.
Here’s another one, my prayer for today: Give me less that I might need You more.
Blue Like Play Dough
Have you ever read a book that makes you want to be best friends with the author?
I have found the most valuable parenting resources are parents themselves. I can read all the books I want, take all the classes I can, and watch every last episode of TLC, but I learn the most from simply sitting with another mom and hashing about life. It’s over coffee and laughs that I find I’m not alone, I’m not insane and God’s not done with me yet.
Tricia Goyer’s newest book, Blue Like Play Dough, is like that. Reading it feels like a mom-date, a much needed dose of perspective wrapped in love and friendship. I loved it.
The author shares her unlikely journey from rebellious, pregnant teen to busy wife and mom with big dreams of her own. As her story unfolds, Tricia realizes that God has more in store for her than she has ever imagined possible.
Sure, life is messy and beset by doubts. But God keeps showing up in the most unlikely places–in a bowl of carrot soup, the umpteenth reading of Goodnight Moon, a woe-is me teen drama, or play dough in the hands of a child.
In this transparent account, you’ll find understanding, laughter, and strength for your own story. And in the daily push and pull, you’ll learn to recognize the loving hands of God at work in your life … and know He has something beautiful in mind.
Click here to read an excerpt from the book.
Click here to learn more about the author via her website. (She writes much more than parenting books. her historical fiction is fantastic!)
There’s more!
With the release of this book Tricia is also launching the Get One, Give One Campaign!
For every copy of Blue Like Play Dough purchased, she’ll donate a copy of My Life Unscripted or Generation NeXt Parenting to a pregnancy, teen or family support ministry (while supplies last).
All you have to do is buy a copy of Blue Like Play Dough on Christianbook, on Amazon, or at your local bookstore, and then go to Tricia’s Go-Go page and fill out the form. EASY! (FYI: This book is also available in Kindle format! 
)
Still more … An invitation from Tricia for YOU!
Are you a mommy who feels squeezed by Motherhood? Could God be shaping something beautiful in you?
I’m inviting YOU to come bring your stretched self and attend a fun Facebook Launch Party for Blue Like Play Dough! I know you’re busy (and tired) so I’m bringing the festivities to you! So grab your comfiest chair and slip away from that long To-Do list and join me for a two hour Play Dough Party. I’ll be sharing some of my mothering experiences (the good and the bad), hosting a fun trivia contest, giving away Mommy Play Dough Packs, answering questions, and getting to know YOU!
I’d be honored to have you as my guest – and to prove it I’ll be giving away 2 ginormous Mommy Play Dough Packs to two party attendees at random! The winners will be announced at the end of the party. Grab your friends and let’s party! oh, and don’t forget your camera! Snap pictures during the party and upload them during the festivities. I’ll be giving a prize away for the best photo!
So come join me on July 27th from 5-7 pm (PST)! Friend me on facebook and join the fun!
A Second Chance and Suprisingly Good Recipe
I’m not big on diets, but I do like healthy meals. I much prefer fresh ingredients over preserved, light fare over fried, and variety is definitely the spice of life. I delight in whole, natural foods. As a result, I own a number of diet cookbooks. It’s not that I’m trying lose weight (though I should); it’s just that these books cater to my likes.
Last summer I bought The South Beach Diet Taste of Summer Cookbook. I tried one recipe (which no one liked) and swiftly tucked this baby into the basement where I promptly forgot I owned it. Last week as I re-organized my Tupperware collection, I saw this beautiful cookbook collecting dust and decided to give it a second chance. I’m so glad I did! The recipe I tried last last night was so good, I can’t wait until Sunday to share it with you.
Seared Scallops with Summer Vegetables
- 4 t extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 1/2 lbs sea scallops (about 20 pieces), cleaned
- 1/4 t salt
- Freshly ground black pepper
- 1 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced into half moons
- 1/2 small onion, finely chopped
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 c cherry tomatoes, halved
- 3/4 c shelled edamame
- 1/2 c corn kernels
- 2 T fresh basil, chopped
In a large nonstick skillet heat 2 t of oil over medium-high heat. Add scallops, sprinkle with 1/8 t salt and lightly season with pepper. Cook until golden brown on the outside and opaque inside, about 2-3 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate and keep warm.
Reduce heat to medium and add remaining 2 t oil to the pan. Add zuddhini, onion and garlic; cool until veggies are softened, about 4 minutes. Add tomatoes, edamame and corn; cook until warmed through. Return scallops to pan, sprinkle again with salt and pepper. Reheat for 30 seconds. Stir in basil. Serve warm.
Makes 4 servings.
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Now, if you’re into the South Beach Diet (which I am not), this is a Phase 1 recipe, if you omit the corn. Otherwise, it’s a Phase 3 recipe. Either way, it’s delicious! I actually made the recipe smaller, using just 1 lb of scallops, but the full allotment of veggies. I then served this as a side dish.
Whenever I try new recipes that may be hit or miss, I serve them with steak. It satisfies my need for new recipes, while still assuring the Man will be happy. Very important. This was FABULOUS with steaks! A nice weeknight surf ‘n’ turf affair. Try it and let me know what you think!
Some cool stuff and a giveaway
I found a pretty cool site recently: Impress Your Kids. This blog features fun projects and tools to develop quality time with your kids, from crafts to books to just neat facts. Today’s post includes an interview with prolific children’s book author Sally Lloyd-Jones and a giveaway of one of her most popular titles: The Jesus Storybook Bible. Click HERE to read and enter.
In related news, have you seen the new look of CCBR? I’m so excited! Yvonne Parks, the extremely talented graphic designer who did my last website (before I moved to WordPress), gave us a great new design. I love it. We even have a new button you can add to your blog to help promote our site, new drop-down menus for easier searching AND we have two new reviewers who will focus on chapter books for older kids. We’ve got a lot going on over there. Check it out.
While you’re there, check out our review of The Jesus Storybook Bible. It’s listed in our “Top Picks” and “Family Favorites.”
Randomness
I have nothing interesting to say, but I feel pretty guilty for neglecting this blog lately. So, prepare yourselves for some randomness. Massive randomness.
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My pelvis feels better. Oh, you missed that? Yes, my lovely, adorable, active and rough-and-tumble boy attacked me yesterday. Zach has this “cute” thing that he does. He runs full and jumps at people. Usually it’s when we’re standing up and so we catch him and use his momentum to propel him around in the air like a super hero. He loves it. But he’s strong and he never warns us when it’s coming.
Yesterday, since it poured rain all day, I decided it was the perfect day to properly introduce the kids to Rodgers and Hammerstein. Knowing the boy’s lack of interest in romance and ballet, I chose “The Music Man.”
The kids loved it! Zach’s favorite part, of course, was “Sha-poopy.” He’ll continue singing that song the rest of the week.
After the show ended, Ellie wanted to reenact it. As she and I sat on my queen-sized bed singing all the songs and thoroughly discussing the plot and why it’s not nice to trick people for money, Zach flew at me and landed his full thirty-five pounds directly on my … well, let’s just say it’s a good thing I don’t plan to get pregnant again.
I screamed. Ellie gasped. Zach laughed.
I didn’t want to scare the kids by my obvious agony, so I walked into the living room where I collapsed into the fetal position over the couch and cried. Ellie promptly joined me and started rubbing my back. Zach followed and began playing “Peek-a-boo” with the pillow I clutched to my lady parts.
Ellie comforts with caresses. Zach comforts with laughter. She’s my nurturer and he’s my clown. Oh, I love them so much!
Anyway, my lady bone was hurting the rest of the day. I worried it might be cracked or something, but figured a doctor couldn’t do anything about it anyway. I mean, if it’s not broken, what are they going to do? I didn’t exactly want to sport a cast like Meredith on “The Office.” So I took a couple Advil around 10 PM and went to bed.
This morning I feel better.
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Facebook can be quite surreal. I “ran into” an old friend this week who now looks like George Clooney. I’m not kidding. Last night I told Rick about it. Our conversation went kind of like this:
Me: “So this guy, we’re the same age, but he’s totally grey now. Not that he looks bad, he actually looks really good.”
Rick: “Yeah, some guys at work –
Me: “I mean, like really good! He’s still got dark eyebrows, but his hair is all grey.”
Rick: “Yeah, I’ve seen –
Me: “He looks just like George Clooney. You know with those deep eyes? We were in theatre together. He looked good then, but not this good.”
Rick: “Did you date him?”
Me: “No. I would have, but he never asked me.” (Rick then started laughing.) “Yeah, he was on my brother’s baseball team and … (Rick’s laughter increased.) Well, he was just too cool for me.”
Rick: “Yeah, probably. You ready to watch TV?”
Me: “Yeah.”
A while back, I don’t know how long ago, during one of these just before bed conversations, Rick said to me: “So, you still wanna talk or what?” He’s gotten a little more tactful with his end-of-conversation segue.
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A well-stocked freezer is a beautiful thing. It’s like the loaves and the fishes that never run out. I have intended to go grocery shopping since last Friday. It’s Wednesday, and I still haven’t done it. That’s six days later! Surprisingly, we’ve only had take-out a couple times. The rest has come from my cave of frosty options. Today, though, I have no excuse. I shall brave the market with two energetic kids and one long list and hopefully emerge victorious in less than three hours.
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I promise to make my next post slightly more coherent and maybe even relevant. Until then, happy Wednesday, all!
Reality moves.
Have you missed me? I know, I’ve been silent lately. It’s not that I have nothing to say; it’s just that I don’t want to say the wrong things. I’ve been in a funk and the cathartic nature of blogging likely would have brought out all the negative things I’d rather not post for the world to read. What’s that proverb? “Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent.” (Proverbs 17:28) Call me the fool.
What do you do when you’re in a funk? There are the typical devices: chocolate, coffee, mashed potatoes … okay, so I’m an emotional eater. I admit it. But there are others: shopping, a favorite TV show, a lazy novel that doesn’t require any thinking, the “right” music, a drive to nowhere, a day at the beach, a date and a night of unscheduled intimacy. Sometimes if we just break the mundane routine of life, we can fill up our enthusiasm tanks.
But sometimes those fuels aren’t what we need at all. It’s like sea water, a cruel joke to a stranded man. He’s surrounded by water, but if he drinks it, he’ll actually be in a worse state than the parched, cracked-lip man he is now.
Yes, a grande white chocolate mocha would seem divine right about now. But it’s not the fuel I need.
A “good” Christian would say “You need God! You haven’t spent enough time in the Word or in prayer, and that’s why you’re in this funk.” So I turn to my Bible and my God, consuming them the same as my chocolate, expecting the same fix.
But God is not a drug. He’ll not be used at my whim like a genie. Joy is not found through a prescribed combination of piety. Yes, spiritual discipline is important and, yes, Jesus is always the answer, but faith is not attained through a formula. Just because you see your boss every day doesn’t mean you have a relationship. I don’t want a ritual, I want intimacy. I know what’s true, but I want to feel it too. I want reality — God’s truth — to be tangible.
This weekend as I bit my tongue trying not to groan as my children gleefully climbed all over me, I looked up and saw this.
It doesn’t look like much; it’s just a tree. Lying on the ground, I stared at something I’ve seen billions of times, but now from a different perspective. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. Thousands and thousands of leaves against a bright blue sky. All of a sudden I didn’t feel so alone. God knows exactly how many of those green fingers wiggle in the breeze. Even after my son’s daily baseball bat attacks on the tender branches, He knows. He knows how many hairs are on my head, even as I’m pulling them out. He knows how much I adore these children, even when I’m more frustrated than grateful. He knows how much I want to serve Him, even when I put it off or don’t do it right.
A new perspective, a jolt to my consciousness, and suddenly reality moves from my head to my heart.
It’s a dark store.
A few weeks ago Ellie and I attended a bridal shower. There my daughter encountered something from which I have tried to shield her for … well, forever. I had hoped to continue avoiding such influences for the next five years or so. By the time she’s ten, I’m guessing the result of such exposure would be quite different. But she’s not ten. She’s five and was absolutely enthralled by what we witnessed: a mother and daughter wearing matching dresses.
Our cousin Katie looked gorgeous, as always; this time wearing a red and white polka dotted sundress. It was 50s-inspired and beautiful. Her daughter, Lily, who is seven months old, wore an identical sundress. Ellie fell in love with the idea. While she loudly proclaimed that we need to do that, too, my mother-in-law’s eyes sparkled with hope (likely picturing the two of us in matching sailor dresses; she probably already has the patterns, just waiting for such an opportunity). I smiled through clenched teeth. “Would you like that? We’ll see, okay, honey?”
She hasn’t stopped talking about it since. She’s even planned for have her dolls and her brother dressed the same. I have successfully convinced her that Daddy will never partake in her scheming. (You’re welcome, Rick.) When we shopped for dresses for the wedding, she insisted that we match. Well, I found my dress first. They don’t make black lace dresses for preschoolers. Even if they did, I wouldn’t buy one for her. This truth devastated my daughter. After two days, several tears and many frustrating hours throughout at least twelve stores, I decided to shop without her. I bought her dress while she was sleeping, but that still left shoes. My girl LOVES shoes. I conceded to wear matching shoes.
This is what we found.
In the store, these looked the same: black satin, low-heels and ankle straps. Not until we got home did I realize they don’t really match at all. Ellie’s are not black, they’re brown. In the store I was convinced, as was Ellie, that they were black. Why did they look so different at home?
But that wasn’t the only mistake. I also purchase these shoes believing them to be navy.
They’re black.
And then I bought these believing them to be cute.
Okay, they are kinda cute. The little tails or stingers or whatever they are — the green things on the heels light up when Ellie runs, but best of all: I’m told these suckers prevent foot odor. (I may buy a pair for everyone in our family. Well, except me because my feet never stink. They don’t sweat. Actually, did you know that sweat doesn’t makes feet stink? The bacteria that feeds off the foot sweat create the odor. Kinda gross.)
As I vocalized my confusion over the shoes, what I thought I was buying and what I actually bought, Ellie simply patted my arm. “It was a dark store, Mom.”
