S-t-u-p-i-d

This past February, when I was realllly pregnant (I know they say you’re either pregnant or you’re not, but I think when you are 9 months pregnant, you are realllly pregnant), my sister came down from Michigan to visit us and to be here for my baby shower. I absolutely loved having her here. She is one of my best friends, and she’s lots of fun. We always have a blast when we’re together.

We have many similarities not only in our physical appearance but in our senses of humor, our beliefs about certain things, and so forth. Of course, we also have some differences, and one of these is that Kristen will occasionally use a curse word. However, when she’s in my home, she voluntarily makes an effort not to do so. This visit, she’d been doing great in avoiding what my kids and I call “bad words”. So as we sat chatting in the living room, she said, pleased, “I don’t think I’ve used any bad words at all.”

“Nope. You’ve been doing great,” I said.

And from her position next to me on the couch, Ellie piped up into the conversation, “Mommy said a bad word once.”

“Huh?” I said, and the look on my face must have shown that I didn’t know what Ellie was talking about.

“Oh, really?” Kristen said gleefully at the same time. “What did Mommy say?”

Ellie glanced at me. She knows you’re not supposed to repeat bad words.

“It’s okay,” I said to her. “You can say what I said.”

Ellie glanced from me to Kristen and back to me.

“Really,” I said, curious to find out what bad word I had supposedly said. “You can repeat it.”

Ellie looked at Kristen and said, as if she felt embarrassed on my behalf, “She said ‘s-t-u-p-i-d’.”

Yep, she spelled it. She was unwilling to say such a bad word out loud. So she spelled it, then looked at me, hoping I wasn’t mad.

Kristen and I burst into laughter. “That’s it?” Kristen asked, disappointed.

I must have called something “stupid”—I absolutely never use that word to refer to a person, because it’s insulting, demeaning, and totally unnecessary to use it in that way. I really don’t remember the incident Ellie was referring to and therefore don’t know what exactly I said.

What I do know is that my word choice stuck with Ellie. Even when it was no big deal to me, it mattered to her. I don’t know how long it had been since the time I used that word, but apparently Ellie still remembered it.

What this tells me is that I better be careful and intentional about the words I use on a daily basis.

I can’t afford to be careless or unintentional in my speech to my children. They will remember the words I’ve said—maybe not the “clean your room” words, but at least the words they considered bad. And when those words are directed at them, they may remember for a very long time.

That’s not to say that kids remember every mistake we’ve made. They don’t (thank God). Nor does every carelessly spoken word lead to their being scarred for life (thank God again). But knowing that our words can have an impact we don’t necessarily intend, we must do our best to make sure we are purposefully uplifting in our speech, especially to our children. We must.

Moms, if someone were to ask our children what bad words we had said lately, would our children have to work very hard to come up with a response?

Would they recall curse words? Would they recall insults directed at them or even at that driver in front of us? Would they remember that we shouted or rolled our eyes as we spoke? Would they remember a tone of disgust where there shouldn’t have been one? Would they be able to tell others about the times we used our words (even unintentionally) to discourage or belittle them or their efforts?

I pray the answer is no, both in your family and in mine. The old saying “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” simply isn’t true. Words, even those that aren’t specifically insults, have tremendous power to uplift or to tear down. Even when our words aren’t directed at them, our children’s consciences can be wounded by hearing us speak rudely to the clerk at the grocery store, talk about someone behind her back, or disrespect our husband.

I once heard it said that if you wouldn’t want to stand up in front of your church on Sunday morning and tell them you did something, you shouldn’t do it at all (the obvious exceptions being those things that are legitimately private). This is a great rule, and it applies to words too. If you wouldn’t want to tell others what you said and the tone with which you said it, you shouldn’t have said it to your children either

But I’m not perfect, you might be thinking. I make mistakes all the time.

We all do. Sometimes, we get things wrong. We wound our children when we don’t mean to. You’re not alone.

But because that’s true—that we’re imperfect and guaranteed to mess up sometimes—we owe it to our children to do everything within our power to make sure those times are as few and far between as possible. We should give our children the best we have, not just whatever words happen to come out of our mouths without much thought.

Most of us recently spent a lot of time trying to decide what to get our kids for Christmas, purchasing the chosen items, wrapping them, and placing them under the tree. Shouldn’t we spend just as much time—actually, far more—in purposefully speaking to our children pleasant words that will create a peaceful, secure, and loving atmosphere in our home?

After all, most of the Christmas presents will soon go by the wayside. But the gift of our consistently loving speech will never be forgotten.

Proverbs 15:4—Kind words bring life, but cruel words crush your spirit. (GNT)

Proverbs 16:24— Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. (NIV)

Colossians 4:6—Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out. (MSG)

What I Don’t Care About

A small pair of pink and red rain boots lies in our entryway. They’re right there where someone would need to walk in order to reach the door or to enter our home from our front porch. I’ve told the owner of those boots at least 17,000 times not to leave them where people could trip over them. She forgot. Again.

And I don’t care.

There are toys scattered in the front yard that should have been put in their proper places. Seeing them, I wonder, What would a person think who saw my yard like this?

And I don’t care.

We had sandwiches and chips for lunch today. One of my children took too many chips. When that child asked to be excused, several chips remained on the plate. It was wasteful.

I don’t care.

I don’t care, because two days ago, a man walked into an elementary school in Connecticut and started shooting. Six adults and 20—twenty!—children lost their lives. They died because they went to school that day like they were supposed to.

This, I do care about. I care deeply and profoundly, in a way words can’t adequately describe. Even the tears I’ve shed aren’t sufficient to express the grief in my soul, which I feel not just because I’m a mother but because I’m a human being. The impact of this horrific event can’t be fully expressed, in words, tears, or any other way.

Something like this makes everything else fade into insignificance.

I do want my children to grow up to be self-disciplined. I want them to be good stewards of what God has given them. So maybe “I don’t care” isn’t the way to put it. Suffice it to say that on Friday, I realized that many of their actions that I used to get annoyed about were never the big deals I made them out to be.

Getting upset because I might have to repeat instructions to a child who innocently forgot? It’s not worth the disruption in my peace of mind or in my relationship with that child. It’s so not worth it.

The parents of the precious children who were killed two days ago would give anything to have their children back in their home, sitting at the table and taking too many chips. They’d give anything to have to step over a pair of rain boots that in reality aren’t ever going to be in the way again. The things I’m complaining about—having to clean up after my children, having to make another trip to the store—would be precious opportunities to these parents to hold and love their children a little longer.

What I must remember is that the only reason my children’s actions sometimes annoy me is that they are here and not in heaven with Jesus. Teaching a child to pick up rain boots is a small price to pay for having that child with me day in and day out.

If my child were to die tomorrow, my first thought would not be, “Boy, I’m glad I got so irritated about those boots, especially since time was so short and I didn’t know it.” And if that’s true—that these things wouldn’t matter at all then—do they really matter now?

That’s why I don’t care any more. The boots? I don’t care. The toys? Don’t care. The chips? Don’t care.

Yes, I will continue to try to teach my children to put their things away and take an appropriate amount of food. But being annoyed when they don’t? Not anymore. At least I hope not. I pray not. Because I want to spend every second with my precious kids appreciating them and loving on them—not complaining that they’re being children. I want the things that would matter then to matter now—the love and the hugs and the time together. The bedtime stories. The times we danced like crazy in the kitchen while listening to a CD.

Those things. Not the rain boots.

Never the rain boots.

Matthew 2:18—”A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

1 Corinthians 13:4-5—Love is patient, love is kind…It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

A further word from Megan:

Sometimes, when we’re grieving, such as after the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary, it’s hard to find the words to pray. Hard to know how to express the groanings of our hearts. I’ve been asked to offer a prayer on behalf of all of us moms who are grieving over this tragedy. It is certainly no better than any prayer you would offer. But if you need help putting words to your prayers, or if you would just like to join moms everywhere in pouring out your heart to the Lord after the tragedy at Sandy Hook, I offer the following prayer for you. For me. For all of us.

Oh, God, our hearts cry out to You. In our grief and confusion, we have nowhere else to turn. We climb into Your lap weeping for those precious children and their families, those adults and their families. We wrap our arms around You and cling as tightly as we can, for the storms of rage and grief, pain and confusion and disbelief, are too strong for us, and if we don’t cling to You, we are destroyed. And as we cling, Father God, we feel Your tears, and we know that You grieve too. Not for the children, because they’re with You now, and You know that “in Your presence” is a far better place than down here. You grieve for those left behind–for those parents who must struggle to rebuild lives forever shattered by bullets, for the emergency workers who had to stuff their grief deep inside so as to appear strong, for all those who lost someone precious that day, and for those of us who simply grieve at how evil sprang into the world through the doors of an elementary school. You hate what sin in this world has done to us.

We don’t know where to go from here. We don’t know how to move on. We’re lost. So we beg Your Holy Spirit to intercede for us with groans words cannot express (Rom. 8:26). We beg for comfort, especially for those parents, brothers and sisters, and husbands or other family members of those killed at Sandy Hook. And yet, asking for comfort seems like nowhere near enough. So we ask You to do abundantly beyond all we ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20-21). You are Jehovah-Rapha, the God Who Heals. Pour Your healing into each heart and mind affected by this tragedy. Minister Your peace and comfort to those who so desperately need it. Whatever else we should be praying for, but don’t know it, please do that too. Father God, we weep with You. And we are humbled and consoled that You weep with us.

Amen.

Timmy’s Life of Crime

You would think age 9 months is too young to get arrested. Apparently, it’s not. Poor Timmy got arrested four times yesterday.

I’ll vouch for him that he has a really good excuse, though. You see, the four older kids had spread out their candy stashes (left over from Fall festivals, birthday parties, and who knows what else) on the dining room floor so they could trade candy. However, they failed to take into account that Timmy was awake and in the vicinity.

Timmy, upon seeing this wonderland of goodies spread out in front of him, headed straight for it and started grabbing things. “No, Timmy!” the other kids would say, snatching their candy out of his hand. Then, the minute they turned their back, he grabbed something else.

Finally, Kenny decided to put an end to the problem. “All right, Timmy,” he said—perfectly pleasantly—“I’m arresting you.” Kenny got up, lifted Timmy out of the midst of it all, and brought him to me.

This happened three more times, until finally the kids took my suggestion and decided to put their candy away until sometime when Timmy wasn’t around.

So ended Timmy’s brief life of crime. I don’t think he learned anything from the incident, and I’m sure he runs the risk of being re-arrested the first time he gets a chance to commit a similar crime. Can’t really blame Timmy, though. When temptation is spread out right there in front of him, what could a 9-month-old be expected to do besides wade right in?

We would do well to remember this principle in regards to what we as moms spread out right in front of our children.

What kinds of media do we allow into our home? Do we allow books or videos where the characters have a generally bad attitude, where sin goes uncorrected, and where that sin is made to look fun or funny? Do we allow music with questionable lyrics or values that don’t match up with our family’s values? When we do—when we spread these actions and attitudes out in front of our kids—how can we be surprised if they want to wade right in?

What about our own actions? Are we spreading hypocrisy in front of our children by telling them not to lie, then instructing the to tell an unwanted caller that we’re not home? Do we tell them to be kind to their siblings, then we scream at them? Or tell them to be hard workers, then spend all day on Facebook? When we spread out in front of our kids the idea that gratifying our own desires and pleasing ourselves is what’s most important, is it any wonder they want to wade right in?

Moms, we have a choice, and we need to make our choice very carefully, because the odds are that whatever we spread out in front of them is what they will choose to get involved in. We can spread out the stuff of this world, or we can spread out God, His character, and His ways. Of course, we can’t guarantee that our children will choose God, but we can make it a whole lot more likely when we show them God and live out a relationship with Him in front of them.

Which will it be, moms? What will we influence our children to become involved in?

Proverbs 13:20—Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.

Because You’re Here

A few nights ago, Jessica had a nightmare. She came into our room crying and needing reassurance that no, no one was going to come into her room and take her. I made her a “bed” of quilts on the floor next to my side of the bed, and we told her she could sleep right there next to Mommy.

Jessica lay down on her “bed”, but all was not yet well. She was still scared, and she wasn’t able to settle down and go to sleep. (I would have taken her into my bed, but she is wiggly when she sleeps and usually keeps me awake or wakes me up repeatedly.) We reassured her that she was okay and that everything would be just fine, but it wasn’t enough. Jessica needed more.

“Can you sleep down here with me?” she asked in a small voice.

I thought about it for a second and decided that I was willing to sacrifice my sleep if that was what she needed. “Sure I can,” I said. That way, I figured, at least my husband would still get a good night’s sleep.

As I sat down next to Jessica and began to straighten out the covers over us, she said, “I’ll be able to sleep now because you’re here.” Sure enough, we lay down together, and within a minute or two, she was fast asleep.

I lost some sleep that night, but I gained a precious memory. I also gained some neat insight into exactly what Jesus did for us.

Just as Jessica needed someone down on the floor with her, we human beings needed Someone down here on earth with us. So, knowing our need, Jesus took on human form and came “down here”. But as incredible as that is, that He would be willing to do that, there’s even more to it. You see, His coming makes a huge difference in our daily lives, not just in our eternal destiny.

Remember how once I was down on the floor with her, Jessica said she could sleep, and how she was able to immediately fall asleep and stay comfortably sleeping the rest of the night? It’s like that with us. Jesus’ presence down here with us (now in the form of His Holy Spirit) means that we can feel loved, protected, and secure.

How much of a difference would that make in our daily life if we truly grasped that? Probably more than you might think.

If we just realized how much Jesus loves us, we could stop demanding that others fulfill our need for love. If we understood how powerful Jesus is, we would know that nothing can touch us outside of what He permits and to the extent that He permits. Knowing that we’re completely loved and fully protected, we could then rest easier, not just at night, but all day long. Better yet, all life long. We wouldn’t have to worry about—well, anything. We wouldn’t have to try to use others to get our needs met. We could turn all our concerns over to Someone Who is infinitely more capable than we are of dealing with what needs to be dealt with, and we could be at peace.

So if all this is really available to us, why don’t we take advantage of it?

Because we don’t really understand what Jesus has done for us.

Most of us know that Jesus took the punishment we deserved for our sins, so that we didn’t have to. We understand that when we die, we’ll go to heaven instead of hell. What we don’t really comprehend is how much of a difference His presence with us makes in the meantime.

I didn’t really do anything big for Jessica that night. I was just there. That was all she needed.

Really, that’s all we need, too. To know that Jesus is here and that we can rest in Him. Precious mom, if you didn’t know this before, now you do.

“Jesus, we’re okay now. Because You’re here.”

Matthew 1:23—Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.

Stylish Accessories

I’m currently on the lookout for a semi-narrow black belt I can wear with a couple long tops I recently bought. In order to achieve the look I want, it must be neither too narrow nor too chunky. And in order to achieve the budget I want, it must be reasonably priced.

Yet the belt isn’t the point of either outfit. The point of the first one is a long, red sweater; the point of the second is a soft, black-and-white draped kind of top. In both cases, the belt is merely an accessory.

I’ve been thinking, as we head into this holiday season with Thanksgiving just around the corner and Christmas not too long after, that we often treat God as a sort-of accessory to our holidays rather than the main point. It’s like the main point of Thanksgiving is family, turkey, and football, with a little bit of God thrown in so we have someone to thank for all our stuff. Likewise, the point of Christmas seems to be the decorations and the presents, with a little bit of Jesus thrown in so we can feel good about having remembered the true “reason for the season” in the midst of the shopping frenzy or before we rip into the wrapping paper.

And this year, my heart is grieved. I’m grieved that we don’t care more about God all year round. I’m grieved we have to make it a point to remember Jesus at His birthday because we’re so distracted by all the stuff. I’m grieved that we act like He is the accessory to our celebrations rather than the focal point.

Although when I think about it, I’m not surprised. That’s because God isn’t the focal point of our life the rest of the year, so why would He the main focus during the holidays? Often, we live our lives with our focus on other people, including ourselves, with God as a benevolent genie in the sky we can invoke when we need some plan of ours blessed or some request granted. Or maybe we spend the rest of the year being mad at Him for something He’s done or failed to do, so we’re sure not going to let Him intrude on our holiday celebrations.

Precious mom, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. God is the point of everything, not the accessory to it. He is the One Who created all things and continuously upholds them by the word of His power (Hebrews 1:3), including you and me. He wants to be our life, not be part of our life, as if the main point of our life is something other than Him.

So yes, enjoy the time with family and friends this holiday season. Enjoy the food. Enjoy the gifts! Just make sure that you remember they’re not the point, and they never were. God is the point and always has been. Not just at the holiday season, but all year round.

Hebrews 1:3a—The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.

What Isn’t There

On one wall of my kitchen hangs a dry erase board. It’s terribly handy for keeping track of things or leaving notes for one another. My kids think it’s also great for drawing on.

This morning, Jessica was sitting on the counter drawing on my board. “Look, Mommy!” she said. “Look at the kitty I drew.”

I looked at the board and saw nothing but blue scribbles. I don’t mean that she had drawn poorly. I mean she had literally scribbled in wide swaths across the board.

“Uh…” I said.

“Look at the erased part,” Jessica said.

I tried again to see what she wanted me to see, and suddenly, I saw it. In the midst of the blue scribbles were some eraser marks, as if she had taken the corner of the eraser and used it like a marker to create (by erasing) a drawing in the midst of the scribbles. And sure enough, when I looked at the erased parts, the drawing of a kitty was clear.

“I see it!” I said excitedly, and Jessica smiled.

It’s understandable that I didn’t see the kitty right away. When you’re asked to look at something someone has drawn, you usually look at what is there rather than what isn’t.

The only problem is, sometimes what isn’t there is what you’re supposed to see.

We moms are experts at seeing what is there in front of us. The messy house, the misbehavior, the logistics of having to get all the kids ready to go somewhere—we see those, all right. But do we see what isn’t there?

Right now, as I write, my 8-month-old son Timmy is pulling up on my desk chair. That’s what is there. What isn’t there is his newborn cry, his blinking bewilderedly at a world he can barely see, or his wobbly attempts to push himself up when he’s lying flat on his stomach. Those things don’t happen anymore because he’s grown out of them.

But I haven’t. I still remember cuddling him against my chest when he was fresh and new, only seconds old. I miss some of the things that no longer happen, even though I rejoice that Timmy is growing as God meant him to.

Other things that are no longer here, I don’t miss. For example, I still need to discipline my children when they’ve done something wrong (obviously). But the discipline issues have changed. This morning, I was frustrated about a particular issue with my oldest daughter, Ellie. This issue does indeed need to be dealt with, because it’s here. But what’s not here anymore is her tattling. She’s grown past that, thank God. She’s learned how to handle things in a more mature way.

The point is simply this: sometimes we need to see what’s not there as well as what is. Even though enjoying present moments is important, it’s also valuable to remember pleasant memories that have gone before. We can give God thanks and praise not only for what’s happening now, but for what’s been happening all along.

We also need to remember the negative things that were once here but no longer. It’s easy to focus on all the things we’re dealing with in the present, but it’s also helpful and encouraging to remember all the things we no longer have to deal with that once seemed like they would be endless. Yes, we’re still working on plenty of areas, but we’ve conquered even more.

Ultimately, the purpose of remembering—whether lovely things that resulted in precious memories, or not-so-lovely things that have ceased to happen—is to turn our eyes to God. You see, He is always at work, sometimes behind the scenes, sometimes out in front. Nothing stays the same forever, and someday, some of those pleasant moments you now enjoy will have moved on, to be replaced by something else. Likewise, the things you struggle with now will be only memories.

So, yes, live in the moment. Enjoy what’s going on, or deal with it, as the case may be. But don’t forget to see what isn’t there. Sometimes it’s just as important as what is.

John 5:17—Jesus said to them, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.”

Badder and Badder

Last night, I took my four older children to a friend’s house for a playdate. Her 6-year-old daughter is my 6-year-old’s BFF, and her son is friends with my older son and daughter. All the kids get along together, and it’s always a fun and relaxing time for my friend and me to chat.

We were standing in the kitchen catching up on each other’s lives and finishing preparing supper when Lindsey limped in, dragging her right leg. Her pants were pulled up above a quarter-sized mildly pink spot on her knee. I could immediately tell that whatever had happened was not the grievous injury the limping would seem to indicate, but I was curious. “What happened?” I asked.

“I bonked my knee on that thing that’s next to the couch,” Lindsey said.

“The ottoman?” my friend asked.

“I guess that’s what it’s called,” Lindsey said.

I peered at her knee. “Looks like you’ll be okay,” I said.

I was eventually able to convince Lindsey to return to her play. For a few minutes, that is. A short time later, she returned to the kitchen, still limping. “My knee is hurting badder and badder,” she said.

“It’ll do that,” I said. “Your knee will start feeling worse when you walk funny on it and put stresses on it in a way it wasn’t meant to take.”

Hmm. Sounds like life, doesn’t it? When we put stresses on ourselves in ways we were never meant to, we make life much more difficult than it has to be.

It’s true that some stresses are unavoidable. For example, being a mom brings a certain amount of stress that you really can’t avoid and will have to cope with if you don’t want to go crazy or get burned out. But a lot of times, we moms put more stress on ourselves than what is strictly necessary.

One primary way we do this is by believing the lie that we have to be perfect. Oh, we say we don’t believe that, but our actions show that we do. When the cupcakes little Johnny was supposed to take to school don’t turn out right, or we forget to put the birthday party invitations in the mail, or little Suzy can’t find her favorite shirt because we haven’t done laundry in far too long, we can come down pretty hard on ourselves. What we would excuse as an understandable mistake in someone else seems totally inexcusable when we’re the person making the mistake.

Another way we make things too hard is by heaping unwarranted guilt on ourselves. Whether our misdeed is yelling at our children when they didn’t deserve it, taking the kids through a drive-through somewhere six nights in a single week, or forgetting to go to the school play, we heap guilt on ourselves, and that voice in our head that tells us we’re not a good enough mom cranks up the volume.

I haven’t met a mom yet who says she never struggles with this. It’s completely, totally normal.

It’s also completely, totally sinful.

Whoa, what? Say that again. Sinful?

Yep. Having standards different from God’s is sin.

But doesn’t God expect perfection?

Moral perfection, yes. But there are certain kinds of mistakes that are not sin because they are simply mistakes. Baking the cupcakes at the wrong temperature so that they turn crispy is not sin; it’s a simple mistake. God doesn’t expect us to be perfect in these non-moral kinds of ways. So when we act like anything less than perfection is unacceptable, we are holding to standards that are different from God’s. We are sinning.

When we make the kind of mistake that is an actual sin, such as speaking harshly to a child in anger, then yes, we do need to repent. We need to hold to the same standard God does, that any kind of sin is unacceptable. The problem comes when we act like we must continue to pay a penalty for our offense by beating ourselves up with our guilt even after we’ve repented and sought forgiveness. We must not repeatedly resurrect our offense and rub our emotions raw with it. When we do that, we’re saying that God’s grace only goes so far. It’ll get us into heaven, but until then, we have to live in misery. That’s completely opposite from God’s standard of full, complete, and immediate forgiveness.

Precious mom, do you hold standards that are different from God’s? Ask Him to show you where you are requiring something more or different from what He requires of you. Don’t put unnecessary pressure on yourself that God wouldn’t put on you. It’ll only cause you to limp longer than you have to.

Psalm 103:12—As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

I Bless You No Troubles

Usually I’m the one who takes Kenny to school in the mornings (he is temporarily enrolled in public school to work on some of his language issues). Each morning as he hops out of the car, I say something like, “I love you. Have a great day!” or, “I’m proud of you!”

The other day when Kenny got out, before I could say anything, he said, “I’ll make you proud today.”

“Aww, I know you will, Son,” I said.

Recently, however, Kenny has begun saying something different. Each day as he opens the door, gets out, and wrestles his backpack onto his shoulders, he says, “I bless you no troubles!”

After he’d said it a few times, we asked him where he got the idea of saying it. “Nowhere,” Kenny said, smiling. “I just thought it would be a nice thing to say, because I don’t want you to have any troubles after you go home.”

Indeed it is. It’s a beautiful thing for a barely-eight-year-old boy to come up with, all on his own, a blessing he can offer his parents each day. It’s beautiful that he even thought of doing something like this for us at this age.

You know what? I hadn’t thought of offering him a blessing. Sure, I always said something nice to leave him with that warm feeling in his heart right before he went into his school. But blessing him? Hadn’t thought about it.

Good thing God thinks about blessing me, His child, a lot more than I think about blessing my own children.

I’m not saying I don’t do kind, loving things for my children. I do plenty of those, and I’m sure you do too. But thinking of what I do and say in terms of blessing them? More than that, thinking specifically of speaking blessings into their lives? Haven’t really thought about it.

There are two things I want us both to make it a point to think about this week. The first is to speak words of blessing to our children on a regular basis. Before they go to bed would be a great time to bless them. So would before they go to school, when they return home, or when something significant happens in their day. Spontaneous blessings would be meaningful too.

How exactly do we bless our children? There aren’t any certain words we have to say. Blessings don’t have to sound a certain way. They can be something as simple as saying, “May you be blessed with a good friend to play with at recess,” or, “You know what? Today God wants me to bless you by buying you an ice cream cone. Let’s go!”

The second thing for us to think about is this: Let’s see how many of God’s blessings to us we can recognize. I’m not just talking about realizing that our house or apartment comes from Him, or that the clothes we wear come from Him (though they certainly do). I’m talking about realizing it’s a beautiful day outside and thanking God for blessing you with beautiful weather. Or having a conversation with a friend and thanking God for blessing you with a few adult minutes taken out of your chaotic, child-oriented day.

Not only that, but check out all the blessings found in your Bible from God to you, or from human beings to their families. Blessings are powerful things! God has given so many of them to us in His Word, and He continues to give us more each and every day. In fact, He says that He has given us every spiritual blessing—not just “a couple” of spiritual blessings, but every spiritual blessing.

In fact, God has had specific blessings in mind for us since before the foundation of the world. Let’s look for those blessings this week and see how many of them we can recognize. But let’s not forget to bless our children this week too—frequently, lovingly, and purposefully. Let’s do our best to bless their hearts the way God blesses ours.

Ephesians 1:3—Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.

Close Enough

I love the way little kids draw people when they are just learning how to draw. Usually they draw a head and two really long legs sticking out from the head all the way to the round-ish feet. Then, of course, they add two arms sticking straight out from the legs, each arm having a few (number varies) stick fingers protruding from the end of the arms (there’s never a hand). Not quite what people actually look like, but adorable nonetheless.

My 4-year-old, Jessica, went through this stage too. Then she got into drawing animals. I remember one early animal she drew for me (she regularly draws pictures and presents them to me as gifts). It was a giraffe. It had a head, a long neck, and a rectangle-ish body. So far, so good. It also had eight legs.

Close enough, right? Absolutely. I hugged Jessica and thanked her for her beautiful picture.

The thought occurred to me the other day that as far as Jessica knew, that picture looked just like a giraffe. It had a head, a neck, a body, and plenty of legs. It was even smiling. What more could a giraffe need? She didn’t recognize any differences between her picture and an actual giraffe.

That level of discernment is fine when you’re four. It’s developmentally normal and morally acceptable. The problem comes when we as moms apply that level of discernment to spiritual things.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength? Yep, I do that. I go to church regularly, I have a regular devotional time (or at least I try), and I listen to praise music. Got that one covered. Never mind the fact that your prayers consist of a whole lot of talking but very little listening, or that you can’t remember the last time your heart felt moved with passionate love for Jesus.

Love your neighbor as yourself? Got that one too. I volunteer at my child’s school, and I donate my used clothes to Goodwill. Never mind the fact that when your child wants to play with you, you are usually too busy.

When we can’t see the difference between what God intends by His commands and the level of our performance of those commands, we become spiritually blind. We’re like the Pharisees, who tithed a tenth of absolutely everything, even down to their spices, but neglected all the “heart” stuff that Jesus said was more important (Matt. 23:23).

Precious mom, are you deceiving yourself, or perhaps being deceived? If you’re absolutely certain that you see your heart and actions completely clearly, that’s a sure sign that you don’t. But whether you think you see completely clearly; whether you’re not certain whether you do; or whether you’re well aware that you’re being willfully defiant of God’s standards, you need to pray. Ask God to search your heart and reveal to you areas in which you are falling short. Of course, you have to be willing to hear what He has to say.

Don’t merely shrug and consider that eight legs is close enough.

Jessica's Eight-Legged Giraffe

Jeremiah 17:9—The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?

Grocery Shopping

In the hustle and bustle of finishing the additions to the manuscript for my second book, as well as throwing Kenny’s 8th birthday party, both of which happened on the same weekend, we got low on groceries. Having focused intently on other things, I hadn’t been paying much attention to the fact that if we wanted some nice meals to eat this week, somebody would have to go to the store.

Fortunately, I love grocery shopping. For me, the best thing about it is the freedom to buy things I want. When I’m in a generous mood, I let the kids help me pick out things to buy (they usually pick out various kinds of snacks as well as those little, white powdered-sugar donuts for breakfast).

I often ask the kids something like, “Can you find the kind of peanut butter we buy?” They love finding our peanut butter on the shelf and putting it into the cart. It’s kind of like a game.

So today, knowing I would have to go to the store, I was thinking about how we do this, and how they enjoy it. And I realized that while I’m pretty good at playing games with them in the grocery store (we even played “Treasure Hunt” once to look for the items on our list), I don’t really teach them why we buy certain brands instead of others, or why we do or don’t buy certain products.

I guess that’s not really a big deal, though at some point they will have to learn to make these decisions. But I sure hope I’m preparing them for life better than I’m preparing them to go grocery shopping.

See, in life, you have to make all kinds of decisions every day, and you usually better have some reason for it other than, “Well, that’s just what we do.” It’s fine to have traditions that your family keeps, as well as your own ways of doing things. But if you never teach your kids to think about why you do or don’t do certain things, they will get out into the world on their own and not know how to make decisions.

Why are we Christians? Why aren’t we Jews, or atheists?

Why do we treat each other kindly? Why can’t we hit someone who takes a toy away from us? (By the way, the answer to that is a lot deeper than “because it might hurt someone”.)

Why do we say no to a certain purchase because we can’t pay cash for it?

Why do we put money into the Salvation Army kettle at Christmastime?

Why do we work hard in school or in the workplace?

Why do we live in a certain neighborhood and not somewhere more or less expensive?

Why do we attend the church we attend? Or why don’t we attend church?

Why do we tip the waitress when we go out to eat?

I want to be teaching my children not only how to act, but why they should act that way. Otherwise, they will grow up, find themselves in a situation I haven’t covered, and they won’t know what to do. Or, equally bad, they might decide that if Mommy never told them why, maybe there really isn’t a good reason, so they can act any way they want the minute Mommy isn’t there to stop them.

In life, I want my children to know which products on the shelves to choose and which to avoid…and why. I want them to know which people to avoid and why—and which not to avoid. I want my children to be able to make wise decisions based on an understanding of the principles our family lives by, not just an understanding of what will make Mommy mad and get them in trouble.

This doesn’t mean that you try to reason with a toddler who doesn’t want to get into a car seat. That toddler doesn’t understand the concept of “car wreck”. You simply have to put him in the seat, whether he likes it or not. But you can still say, “You have to sit in your seat so you can be safe.” Then, later, you can begin to explain what safety is and why it’s important so that when the time comes, your child will understand how to make his own decisions.

Likewise, you also don’t have to explain your every decision. When a child demands, “Why?” and you know they’re not really asking for information but rather complaining, you don’t have to offer them some reason that’s good enough in order for them to obey you. But in most situations, and especially as your children get older, it will benefit them to know what you are thinking.

Precious mom, are you teaching your kids to make good decisions? Ultimately, the most important decision you want them to make is that you want them to choose Jesus, and then you want them to choose His ways for the rest of their lives. Are you helping build good decision-making and thinking skills into their repertoire so they can do that? Will what they’ve learned at home help them make the decisions that only get more complicated as they grow older?

Teaching your children how to act is more than just teaching them what to do. It also involves teaching them why they should do it.

Ezekiel 44:23—They are to teach my people the difference between the holy and the common and show them how to distinguish between the unclean and the clean.