For just one moment I wish you could stand here with me, my friend.

Because our God is so much bigger than grudges, anger, fear, doubt, discord and anxiety.

We could talk about where you’ve wandered and what you are holding.

We could talk about the lists we’ve made.

Then I’d say something silly to make you laugh.

At some point we probably would cry about how far we’ve wandered from

the God who says, “I’ve got this.”

And I’d remind you that there is a path beyond that box…. that only He created.

Be brave. Put down the box.

Abiding,

J.

Last day of school up in here, ya’ll! Can I get an “Amen”?

Most of the time I am a “closet homeschooler” which does not mean that we literally homeschool in a closet. What it does mean is that in this space I rarely write about homeschooling. Actually I rarely write about my husband and kids. There is a long story behind that reasoning somewhere, but let’s just say that some folks who we should have a real relationship with were using this space to fill in their gaps (aka information whores) instead of living for real with us. It was just another place to gather intel. So we (meaning my husband and I ) backed away from sharing too much here to protect our children’s/family’s story. When you are related to folks that spread your info all over creation – discretion in blogging is super important. So I put my finger in the dam of information so to speak.

Now fast forward and I’m tired of having my finger in that little hole – it stifles my creativity, leaves me less topics to actually discuss about my true heart, and makes ya’ll think that I am stuck in “we have been hurt by the church” mode instead of – we are loving where we are right now as a whole family mode. If any of that makes sense.

So here I am writing a post about our real everyday life because I love those who have supported our journey behind the scenes, I love those who continue to read and I feel like there is this whole other side of me that you never get to see. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I am not unforgiving. And despite popular opinion I believe reconciliation is essential, but trust the intervention and timing of God to make that a possibility (we are given the ministry of reconciliation as followers of Christ – 2 Corinthians 5:18).

Our Homeschooling Year
It started great. It got boring in the middle (OK someone may have said, “miserable” but who am I to point fingers?). Then we found renewal, set a date for this school year to end no matter how many books were finished and scheduled a trip out of town. Yes, we scheduled a beach vacation to celebrate! And wow has the anticipation made the spring rainy days more bearable (think four kids cooped up in a townhouse while daddy sleeps upstairs during the day). We are looking forward to some chill time together.

Speaking of curriculum: some of our choices were spot on – others fell to the wayside. I will write an update post in the future to let you know what we kept and what we kicked to the curb (here is the post of what we were using).

Family/sibling health: I think my kids like each other more. More than a year after starting this homeschooling journey and they like each other. They cooperate, lending a helping hand, practice patience, and “tutor” each other. Now that is not to say that they do not fight – come on they fight. But there is more apologizing, more gracious backing down before it escalates and a whole lot less of that ugly green monster (jealousy/envy). My husband and I adamantly combat the competitive yuck in our family. We believe this to be super unhealthy so we use every green monster moment as a moment to encourage: empathy, compassion, “first shall be last, last shall be first” mentality.

I am enjoying my children. This is not a chore.

So here we are finishing 3rd, 1st and preschool. Here we are packing bags and getting ready for a long trip to sun, surf and relaxing.

And here I am sharing the truth behind the scenes even though the gossip hounds are bound to smell blood and come a running.

This is me being brave and sharing a bit of us with you.

Abiding,

J.

yes - that ensemble includes: a pj top, shorts and a super hero cape. And we wore it Walmart!

He stands in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his hips saying, “Look mom I’m huger.” Which when pronounced sounds like, “huge…eR.” I laugh and look down at this little baby turned boy overnight. I put down the spatula and step back to survey him, “OK mister let me see you.” He places his hands down at his sides and I gasp loudly, “You really are getting huge.” He smiles big at my encouragement and then holds up his little hand searching for mine…

He wants to compare hands. He wants to see how big his hand is next to mine.

As his little fleshy palm touches mine I gasp deep inside my heart.

Oh wow when did this happen? When did my little baby turn into this little boy? When did this baby turn into the little boy who forms long sentences, is dramatic at the flip of a switch and steals my heart with his too long kisses? When did our baby turn into this buster who makes me laugh, has a flash of temper and laughs full and loud like his daddy?

I watch him comparing his growing hands to his dad’s and I think my heart is going to fall out of my chest. First we take down the crib. Then he up and races full steam ahead into being a child – no longer a baby. I can’t slow him down. And some days I feel like I am racing to keep up.

One day I know he will stand beside his dad and look him eye to eye. He’ll rest his head on top of mine and I’ll know he’s a man… with grown man hands and stubble on his face. I am growing little adults up in here. Somebody stop the insanity.

The truth is it is hard sometimes in the moment to remember that this is going to go too quickly. It is hard to remember when the milk cup tips and the contents drip between table cracks, making a mess on the floor. It is difficult to stay focused when the fits of temper seem to fill the day… some moments those fits are his and other times they are all mine.

And I remember when we are laughing loudly or enjoying each other way more than a family “should” – that there is a great big God who gave us one another for a reason. That He has placed our family together at this time and in just the right order for His glory not mine. There isn’t much in this moment or the ones to come that is about me – when I make it all about me I forget to serve and worship Him. And all I really want to do is worship Him – teach my children to worship Him.

So I carry this little one to bed – because he wants to cuddle on the couch way after bedtime and I let him because how much longer is he really going to want to snuggle like that? And I pray prayers over his sleepy head with each step I take up those stairs. I pray blessings. I pray for mercy. I pray for forgiveness. I pray for strength and a deep love for the things of Jesus. I lay him down in the dark of his room, brush his damp hair off his forehead, and I thank Jesus for giving me the chance to be this little man’s mom. 

Ok moms – someone is going to make a mess today. Someone is going to throw a fit and that someone might be you. Just remember in that moment or once you regain your composure that:

“This is the day the LORD has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. Please, LORD, please save us. Please, LORD, please give us success.” (Psalm 118:24-25 NLT)

Make a choice to Rejoice and Stand in Awe!

Abiding,

J.

There once was a girl who was handed a box. She took that box with her everywhere she went. She loved that box. It brought her comfort. Then one day she tripped and in an effort to catch herself, she dropped the box. The box broke. As she started to look at herself assessing the damage to her body from the tumble, she noticed that the box’s lid was shattered, but the contents seemed to still be intact. As she lifted the box into her lap she pressed her face in close to that cube – and was surprised to find that the box was empty. What had once been sealed so tight, her comfort and her burden since she was a small child – was found to be without substance. There wasn’t anything in that box.

The girl sat there on the path, her knees bloody with that empty box on her lap and she wept. She wept for all the things she thought she held in there and she wept for every belief that had come undone.

The box was empty.

This story is about me.

 Once upon a time I carried a neat little box. This box represented comfort for me. I kept God in that box. It was a box handed to me by the churched generations that went before me. Then one day I tripped – and I realized that the God of the universe is not contained in a neat little box. He is not a tame lion. (CS Lewis) So I sat there on that path and a great big God who speaks my name and calls me to Himself – He sat right there with me as long as I needed to be still. He spoke truth into my heart. He spoke His promises. Then one day He helped me stand up, He healed my skinned knees, He kicked the box to the curb and He took my hand, leading me on into a bigger world – a world where He is not tame.

There were moments when I thought I would come undone. There were moments when I thought He was moving too slowly. There were moments when I thought He allowed others to carry their boxes for too long. But He never left me, He does not forsake me. He walks with me just as I am.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8 NIV)

While we were still sinners He died. It does not say: and after they had confessed all that they were and all that they were not, He finally agreed to be their Savior. It says that while we were living as sinners, Christ died for us. Wow!

Who I Met on the Path Along the Way
Now along that path I’ve come across people who have tripped and found their boxes empty too… and they don’t know what to do. So I try to remind them of Jesus. I try to show them the face of the untamed lion. I try to point them to Jesus. I tell my story often to give others hope that God is bigger then we sometimes allow Him to be.

Unfortunately my stories about church and faith are messy… it doesn’t make me or others look too good. That brings me to the next group I often come face to face with: There are those who knew me when I still carried that box and they don’t like what I have become. They see me as a threat to the box they still carry and they would like me to shut up. They are afraid to lift the lid and look inside. In this same group are those who never knew me – but they don’t like how messy my story is and they don’t like how I tell it so they shout real loud to drown my story out.

Thankfully there is a whole other group who knew me when I held that box and they embrace the changing me. They have given me freedom to share my voice – they have loved, they have encouraged. They have listened as I kicked, flailed and fought the path. They have rejoiced with me and wept with me. They have not tried to bullet point my life into an appropriate plan of action. They allow the Holy Spirit to lead me – and they lovingly (not sanctimoniously) offer suggestions.

They don’t see that box kicked to the curb as a threat – they don’t see my story as wrong or sinful, but a part of the REDEEMED saying so. I pray you have people in your life like that… because the sanctimonious know it alls get old real fast.

So I’m asking you – are you still carrying that box? Are you ready to put it down? Or are you afraid? Are you sitting still on the path not knowing what to do? Did you figure out that there was nothing in that box a long time ago and you just need reminded? Do you need someone to listen and to pray?

“All of you set free by God, tell the world! Tell how he freed you from oppression, Then rounded you up from all over the place, from the four winds, from the seven seas. Some of you wandered for years in the desert, looking but not finding a good place to live, Half-starved and parched with thirst, staggering and stumbling, on the brink of exhaustion. Then, in your desperate condition, you called out to God. He got you out in the nick of time; He put your feet on a wonderful road that took you straight to a good place to live. So thank God for his marvelous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves.” (Psalm 107:2-8 The Message)

Let me know if I can pray for you…

Abiding,

J.

It’s the end of March. I’m packing for a conference. This daughter of mine who shoots it straight and makes me laugh out loud, she asks, “Why are you packing?” To which I reply, “I’m going to a conference for homeschooling moms where maybe I’ll learn some new things and help us to do schooling at home better.”

She stands there and I lift my eyes to watch her. I can tell she is thinking, processing what I have said. Then out of the blue she shoots words across the room straight at me…

I wrote a post for The Homeschool Village this week. Come visit.