Learning To Measure Differently

Obedience and Faithfulness.  It's how my husband and I have come to measure "success".

We live in a culture that loves to measure...highest score, most points, how many followers we have or "likes" we get.  We are constantly assessing whether something is a success or a failure, good or better.

But when it comes to church planting...when it comes to living missionally, I'm fairly certain these types of measurements may very well kill us.

From the beginning, Vaughn has always said that he is not so much interested in planting a church, but instead in planting a mission...living the way of Jesus, in community.  Establishing rhythms of life that reflect the heart of God, and hoping that our neighbors, coworkers and friends will be drawn to this way of life, along with this person of Jesus, as we grow in our relationships with them.

It feels right.  It's our response to the call to love God and love others.  It asks of us obedience and faithfulness.

Played out perfectly, it seems like we would see lives transformed, witness hope being restored, and participate in deep relationships. (And that is what we'd love to point to when we're "measuring" how successful we've been)

But nothing is ever perfect, and this way of living is proving to be far more messy than we would have thought, leaving us with more questions than when we began.  To be honest, there are days when it feels down right discouraging.  Because if we're measuring in any other terms other than obedience and faithfulness, some days it very well feels like we're failing.

Sitting on the couch together, Vaughn turns to me and says, "So, what is so good about the Good News?"  It's a question he asks our church community often.  It's a question that seems obvious and easy to answer if you've been raised in the church...Jesus loves us unconditionally, died for our sins, and offers us life in Him through a relationship with him...duh!

But that's not what my husband is talking about.  When he asks this question, he's coming off of a conversation we've been having a lot these days.  If this news that we're offering is so good, why aren't more people embracing it for themselves?  Why is it so easy for people to support us in what we're doing, but not really be interested in it for themselves?

For the last four years, we have poured our efforts into engaging our neighborhood, trying to find ways to connect, to build relationship, to establish "community" amongst the people we live near.  Our desire is to live and love in a way that draws people to Jesus.  But what if people aren't looking for Jesus?  What if people aren't interested in Jesus?

William Nicholson writes, “Self-sufficiency is the enemy of salvation. If you are self-sufficient, you have no need of God. If you have no need of God, you do not seek Him. If you do not seek Him, you will not find Him.”

We are experiencing the truth of this.  And it's hard.  It has me wondering.  It feels overwhelming.

If I'm honest, at times, it feels like we're wasting our time.  What do you do when a need isn't recognized...when we live in a time that has many of us deceived into believing that we will find hope, purpose, even joy in something that we can pull off on our own?

When I get to this place, I'm always forced to go back to our terms of measurement.  Obedience and faithfulness.  Are we walking obediently?  Are we being faithful to what God has called us to?  I believe we are.

But there are days when this doesn't feel like enough.  There are days when my heart desires to see something tangible as a result of this way of living, when I long to be encouraged and inspired by what is happening around me.  I want to see lives transformed, dang it!

Is this selfish? Maybe. But I know my Father desires the same thing...even more than I do.

And so where does that leave us?

Here is where I share with you some amazingly insightful and inspiring thought...

But I don't have one.

I seriously am asking, "What does this mean?"  I'm trying to walk obediently and faithfully, while still acknowledging my feelings.  And in all reality, right now it feels hopeless in a lot of ways.

I do know that often times the Lord is working behind the scenes, moving in ways we might never know of.  I get that, and I'm ok with that.

But I can't deny the fact that there seems to be little need for what we've got to offer, and this weighs heavy on my heart.

So, that's where I'm at today.  Walking that line between hoping and holding on loosely.  Working hard to believe, while choosing to simply walk faithfully and obediently.

To My Girls -- May your hearts be captured by those times when you see Jesus at work.  Tuck these experiences into your heart, never forget them...return to them as you remember who God is.  Because there will be days when you feel overwhelmed, when you wonder why we do what we do and live the way we live, when so many others choose differently.  There will be days when your hearts cry out to see change in those you've come to love, as you desire more for them through a relationship with Jesus, but wonder if they will ever choose this for themselves.  Remember that your call is simply to walk obediently and faithfully to that which the Father has called you to.  Do this well, do this passionately, do this with all your heart.

Time Away

7 years ago, my husband began his seminary studies.  We had just moved to Colorado, and he was enrolled in a hybrid course through George Fox out of Portland.  We lived in a small townhouse where all four of our girls shared a room.

During this time, the Lord provided for us in ways beyond what we could've ever imagined.  One year into his studies, Vaughn landed a part-time job with a bank consulting business.  This job required Vaughn to travel one week out of every six.  It paid well, and worked with Vaughn's school schedule.

Who knew that it would also be an investment in our marriage 6 years later? 

This last week, we were finally able to cash in on the flyer miles and hotel points that Vaughn had acquired during the several years he worked for this company.  A trip that has been almost 3 years in the making...

And it couldn't have come at a better time!  Have I mentioned before (like a hundred times) that this last year has been a rough one?  A life changing one, one that we would not trade, but a rough one nonetheless.

So a trip to the ocean with my man was just what this heart needed.

We began breathing deeply and relaxing our shoulders the minute we got in the car to drive to the airport.  We talked, we held hands, we bought coffee, we smiled.

One morning we rented a tandem bike.  Tell me this doesn't scream tourist!  My husband is such a good sport.  When I told him this was the one thing I wanted to do aside from parking myself on the sand, he said he was game.  I'm fairly certain we were the ONLY couple doing this.  During the the three days we were there, I never saw another tandem bike. Ha!

We road along the Bay, we tackled this spiraling path (both up and down), we took turns being the one in the front (my time lasted all of 5 minutes...let's just say a close encounter with a tree cut my time short). 

And we laughed...oh my gosh how we laughed.  I'm certain we looked ridiculous at times (for at least 5 minutes of that time, for sure).  But we didn't care.  We took video of us riding along the marina, and because it was such a great shot I had Vaughn turn around and ride that strip three times in a row so I could get a good picture.  This man should get some kind of award for humoring me.

Another morning we got up and went for a walk/jog along this path.  Just beautiful!  As we talked about the girls, and ministry, and life, we soaked in the sun and each other.

And in the afternoons, we spent a little time in heaven.

I don't know what it is about the ocean...it does something to me.  The sound, the feel, the smell.  To be able to look out forever and see nothing but water.  To feel the soft sand on my feet, and the sun on my face.  To hear the waves, and smell the salt. 

I cried when we walked away from it on our last day.  No lie, real tears.

Every once in awhile during our time there I found myself thinking about the girls.  They inherited a love for the water from their momma.  I knew how much they would've loved to have been there with us.

I told this to Vaughn.

I fully expected him to agree with me.  After all, he had communicated that he was missing them a bit. (maybe even more than me)  Instead, though, he told me that he thought it was important for our girls to keep experiencing us doing things like this.  Showing them the value of investing in a marriage relationship.  Continuing to teach them through example what it looks like to make time for each other, to find ways to grow in our friendship (even after almost 19 years), and to never stop carving out space to play.

He's right.  And I love him for this.

To My Girls -- When I'm away from you, you are still with me.  I hear your squeals of excitement in opening the door to a hotel room.  I see your little bodies testing out the water and getting braver as you venture into the waves, while you older ones can't get your tanning oil on fast enough!:)  I know how much you would love the sand and get a kick out of the palm trees.  Know that my heart longs to experience a place like this with you someday!
     However, I also want you to know how important it is for Daddy and I to have this time together.  In order to love someone well, you must make time for that person.  You must make that person a priority.  Life can and will be hard.  Having someone to do life with is a gift.  My prayer is that the Father will bless each of you with a husband who loves you deeply and runs hard after Jesus.  When the time comes, know that you will never regret investing in this relationship.  Remember that communication is worth the vulnerability it sometimes requires.  Never forget that laughter draws you together.  And always cherish seeking the Father together.   
     

To My Girls

This morning as I took a bath, my mind wandered to my girls.  It's not rare for this to happen.  Life seems to be passing at a frantic speed, and sometimes I just like to sit, and soak, and try to stop time even if just for a minute.

I try to remember what it was like when each of them was born.  I think about those years of sleepless nights...and by years I mean like 10.  My babies were not sleepers.

 I wonder how I survived that period of time when it felt as though I was never alone...not even when I was sleeping or peeing.  There always seemed to be a little one right there.

But these little ones grow.  It happens so fast.  And sometimes that's nice and sometimes that's sad.  But it happens nevertheless.

My girls are the reason I've started blogging.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I have been challenged by Donald Miller's book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  This idea of living a good story continues to inspire me.

Blogging is one of the ways I hope to share parts of my story and our family's story with our girls. Something they can return to.  Something to help them remember.

When I think about being a mom, I think of all the things I want my girls to know, words of advice and encouragement that I want to speak to them, truths that I want them to grasp...and then I become paralyzed by how overwhelming these thoughts can be.

Will I say enough?  Will I say too much?  Will I say the right thing...at the right time?  Will my actions result in their need for intense therapy in the coming future? (my own mother assures me that we must all accept that this will most likely happen)

This is when I have to stop myself and take a few deep breaths.  Here is where I remind myself that God knew what He was doing when he placed these four girls into our family...even if I don't always know what I'm doing.  I must continue to learn to walk that fine line between doing my best (knowing some days my best rocks and some days my best kind of sucks) and surrendering, giving my girls back to the Father.

So today I'm choosing to not give in to paralysis, today these are the words I want my girls to hear...

To My Girls -- 
My prayer is that your hearts will be captured by Jesus.  Know that He loves you deeply and created you uniquely for a specific purpose.  Be the best you, because no one else can be a better you.

Love well.  Be kind and generous.  Always look out for those on the fringe.  Living the Way of Jesus is not easy, it's messy and hard and confusing...but oddly enough it's where you will find true life!

Remember that as sisters you always have each others' backs.  Friends will come and go, sisters are for life!

Know your heart and have the courage to go after the things you're passionate about.  Be confident enough in who God created you to be, that you can be a cheerleader and an encourager to others around you.

Laugh.  Laugh at yourself, laugh with others, laugh out loud, laugh until you cry.  Laughter is a gift, treasure it!

And when you're not laughing, remember that tears can heal and refresh and bring you closer to the One who loves you most.

I love you girls!  When I look at you, I see God at work.  You are a part of an amazing story.  As you seek the Author in all you do, I have no doubt you will live your chapters well!

Love,
Mom

Getting Back In the Game

I love being a part of a team...I've always loved being a part of a team.  Playing ball through college, my teams were what shaped me and formed me outside of my family.

Seven years ago, when Vaughn and I left our families and moved to Colorado, we became our own kind of team.  For 6 years we worked together as we explored what it means to live missionally, to love our neighbors, to make loving Jesus a lifestyle.

This was the day we left Kansas

Together we led kids club out of our home every week.  Together we planted The Micah Project, our missional community that Vaughn pastors.  Together we grilled hotdogs in the park and set up neighborhood movies on the lawn.

Late mornings often found us in the kitchen, I cleaning up after the breakfast rush and Vaughn stopping in after having already spent time at the coffee shop studying and reading.  We would wrestle with what it means to live faithfully.  We would process what it looks like to measure differently.  And sometimes we would just kind of stare at each other, shake our heads and ask ourselves, "What are we doing?"

But our hearts had been captured by something and it wasn't going away.

This fall, Vaughn went bi-vocational and he took a teaching job at a public school in Denver.  The opportunity for him to minister to a demographic of people that we've had a heart for was presented and we believed it was the right next step for "us".

I use the term "us" loosely.  As much as I knew God's hand was at work in this, I did not realize what it would mean for this team.

Overnight, I found myself at home alone.  My teammate was gone each day carrying out a part of our vision that we had spent so much time talking about together.  He was being stretched beyond anything we could imagine.  He was processing a whole new set of issues.  He was participating in what felt like a whole other world.  And God was doing a new work in him through it all.

God was also doing a work in me.  As I faced hours and days alone, I was forced to work through some of my own "stuff".  It felt lonely and hard, but the work required our separation.

As I sat with the Lord on one occasion, I sensed Him calling me to re-engage in my neighborhood.  Due to Vaughn's schedule, we had taken a break with kids club and were essentially in a season of hanging on for dear life.  I started to daydream about what it might look like to join Vaughn in that new world of his.

As I did this, the Lord spoke two very clear things to me.  First, He assured me that He had a plan and that for the time being we would just have to trust Him in this.  I've heard these words before, and I've gotten better at accepting them.

The second thing He spoke to me was a little harder.  I heard the Lord say in an almost audible voice, "No matter what the future brings, you must live out this way of life in the present."

I knew it to be true.  I had no argument against it.  But this time around I found myself a bit more fearful than in the beginning.

Fearful, because I already knew what the next step was.  It was a step that had been laid on our hearts months ago.  It was a step that we felt was right.  But it was a step that required us to make an invite, and I found myself panicked that I would be responsible for doing this on my own.

Often times when we've invited our neighbors into something, we hand out invitations at the kids' bus stop.  Our neighborhood is full of kids and the bus comes each morning two houses down from ours.  It's the perfect place to "get the word out".

But for some reason, this time around, I began to feel some anxiety about doing this.  I knew parents would be out there in the morning.  I knew it would be a great time to interact with them.  So, where was this anxiousness coming from?

I quickly realized that it was coming from being out of practice.  My team had become a bit dismantled and instead of keeping up my own skills, I essentially walked away from the game for awhile.

It was time to "get my head in the game" (Ha! I use that phrase only because I have daughters who will break out into song when they read it:) ).  It was time to re-engage.

I should say here that I tend to be a bit of a "tell me what to do and I'll do it" person.  I'm slowly learning that this is not always the most healthiest of ways.  However, as I thought about handing these invitations out by myself, I was hearing the speech that went, "Really? What's wrong with you? Isn't this something you believe in?  Then you just need to do it! Since when have you let fear control you?"

Needless to say the steps I was being asked to take were no doubt from the Lord, the speech however was not.

I could dive into what I thought the source of my fear was.  I could debate whether or not I should have or should not have felt this way.  I could analyze what this says about me and even try to defend myself.  I'm not going to.  Just know that in the end I was dreading walking out to that bus stop by myself.

It's funny how often I forget that my Jesus knows me better than I know myself.  And it's sad how often I forget just how loving and gracious He is.  Last Friday my husband told me that his Tuesday meeting had been cancelled, and this meant he actually had the day off.  Tuesday was the day I was planning on handing out invitations.  I had not spoken a word to anyone about what I was feeling...but then I didn't have to say it for the Father to know it.

Sometimes we're asked to walk through things that scare us or stretch us.  Sometimes, though, we're given the opportunity to feel as though we're being romanced by the One who knows and loves us the most.  As I walked to the bus stop today with my most treasured teammate, I was still anxious.  But I was also reminded of how much more brave I feel when we're together.

I don't think this surprises God at all.  As a matter of fact, I think he wires us to be our best when we're being together.

So, the invites are out.  This momma is taking steps to re-engage.  God continues to challenge us and lead us.  If you think of it, say a prayer for us.  We've learned it's about being obedient and faithful, but our hearts always hope and pray for others to be drawn to Him in the process.  After Thursday, I'll let you know how it went.

I'd follow this guy to the ends of the earth!

To My Girls -- Oh girls, know that there will be seasons.  Seasons that are exciting, seasons that are scary and many seasons in between.  May you always remember that Jesus knows you and loves you. He knows your heart and He longs to walk alongside you no matter what season you are in.  Always keep your eyes open to the ways God is at work in you and around you!

A Day In The Snow (Ok, really only 45 minutes)

Monday was President's Day.  The girls did not have school.  The two youngest decided they wanted to go out and play in the snow.

15 years into parenting and I'm still learning to embrace these moments instead of listening to the voice in my head that is whining about the piles of wet clothes that come as a result of such activities.

Five minutes before they went out I heard another voice...one that said, "Go out with them, they would love it!" (I'm learning to listen to this voice more and more)

 (Do you see that camper in the background? It belongs to our neighbors, but I stare at it longingly on a regular basis)

As I started to get dressed, the girls were in shock. (This momma does not love the cold or the snow...give me a beach and I'll play with you ALL DAY LONG!)

It really was a beautiful day, though.  The snow was perfect for snowballs.

We had just gotten started when my 15 year old stuck her head out the door and asked if she could join us.  Be still oh my heart...

We were outside for only about 45 minutes.  Vaughn surprised us by joining us half way through (he's usually the one to do this, but I told him I would go out this time).  We were missing one.  Kyan was sledding with some friends.

I've blogged about it before...trying to be present, learning to embrace the moment, not forgetting that I still have littles, along with bigs.  Those 45 minutes were worth every piece of wet clothing currently laying in my garage. 

And now, I will continue my countdown to summer. (please do not leave a comment reminding me that summer is a number of snowfalls away...I'm well aware of this!)

To My Girls -- Thanks for always acting excited when mom joins in to play.  I cherish every one of these moments with each of you!

Dinner with Brien

Last night we had our friend Brien over for dinner.  And I use the term "friend" loosely.  I don't know that Brien would call me his friend.  I do know that there have been times that my feelings towards him have not been "friendly".  To be honest, I don't fully know what it looks like to really be a friend to this man.

Some things you should know about Brien: He is a health nut. He prefers organic if possible.  He will eat a big salad at anytime of day if offered to him (including breakfast).  Brien currently has an obsession with doing as many push ups in a day that he can.  He likes to cook when given the opportunity.  If you want to dive into conversation with Brien, ask him what the hottest pepper is.

Brien is also homeless.

Brien came into our lives about 4 years ago.  He is our most faithful attender on Sunday mornings as we gather in our home with our missional community.  He's admitted that he's not super interested in God or Jesus, but he loves a good meal, and is always looking for company.  Brien doesn't like to be alone.

The temptation is to make some kind of statement about loving and serving the poor and needy, and ending this blog post here.  It would definitely create a picture that supports our vision of living missionally.  To be honest, I could add a number of details and stories of how we've opened up our home to Brien, given him a place to sleep, a warm shower on a regular basis, a place to wash his clothes, and essentially present a pretty romantic picture of living the way of Jesus.

But today is not that day.  I've learned that what can be presented as romantic, is very often far more messy than we'd like to admit...like roll in a wet muddy pasture of cow manure, messy.  How could we have known that when our hearts became captured with all that Jesus was calling us to, it would not feel like what we thought? (ok, what I thought)

I'm just going to be honest with you, Brien drives me all sorts of crazy!  He has a real issue with boundaries.  He's ungrateful.  He is extremely difficult to get along with, and He is selfish.  None of this is new news to him, I've been very honest with him about my feelings. (notice the romance fading)  However, being in relationship with Brien has taught me more about myself and about loving Jesus than anything else in my life.

One Sunday morning, as I was looking across the room seeing Brien sitting there, the Lord whispered in my ear, "What if that is me, sitting here in your living room?"...

My heart sank.  I had not been a gracious host towards this man.  I talked at him and rarely listened, sometimes I even ignored him.  I made it my primary role/goal to "teach" him, instead of love him.  As I heard this voice in my ear, my response was remorse, frustration, and sadness.

Sitting there, I began to picture washing Brien's feet.

Let me tell you right now that I immediately knew this was not something that would ever happen.  I knew it would make Brien incredibly uncomfortable.  Not to mention that fact that it would just be plain weird to go over and ask him if I could wash his feet.  I'm fairly certain the symbolism would have gotten lost in the translation.

But I could not get this picture out of my mind.  For weeks I would have conversations with the Lord that sounded something like this, "Lord, I would do this as an act of obedience to you.  I want to do this.  I think it would be good for me to do this.  But it's NEVER going to happen!  So, know that I hear you and I would if I could, but maybe just knowing my heart is good enough here, yes?" (Ok, so when I said conversation I really meant I was doing the talking)

The Lord did not respond.

That is until one Sunday morning when Brien pulled me aside and said he had a question for me.  He had just been released from the hospital after battling a serious infection in his hand.  As he stood there with his hand still wrapped in gauze, he asked me, "Would you consider giving me a pedicure?"

I'm just going to cut to the chase right here and tell you that the minute the words came out of Brien's mouth, I knew what was happening.  I didn't even have time to be shocked.  The Lord was giving me access to Brien's feet.

Again, on paper this is such a beautiful story.  However as my friend Jaimie and I tackled this "pedicure" (picture the scene from Dumb and Dumber and you'll know what were dealing with) beauty was not at the forethought of my mind. As a matter of fact, once we began there was an intense battle raging between my brain and my gag reflex.

I'm going to be honest when I say that I had really anticipated this whole thing to feel like a deep spiritual experience.  I wanted it to feel like a deep spiritual experience.  Instead, it was all I could do to focus my brain on feeling nothing for fear of what the alternative might look like.

I walked away from that day confused.  Really? Was that it?  All those weeks were leading up to that?  Were you even there, Jesus?  I didn't feel you there. (Because this is all about me, right? Ugh!)

Needless to say, I was smack in the middle of a lesson in obedience and I was once again reacting like a selfish child.

Matthew 25:40 says, "The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'  

My first response to this is YES!  I will do it for the least of these, because I want nothing more than to do it for you, Jesus.  I will go out and serve and love in your name!  There is nothing I want more than to do this!

It sounds beautiful doesn't it?  We know it's right don't we?  Then why the heck doesn't it feel the way I thought it would?  No one has ever recommended a book to me that talks about what it's like to live missionally and feel like no one is really interested.  There are a lot of days that that's how I feel.  And I wanted it to feel different.


As I look back over the last four years of our lives, I realize that selfishly I wanted to feel needed.  I wanted to feel like I was really doing something amazing for the Kingdom.  I wanted to be that person that you read about in books, living radically and changing lives.

And I wanted it to feel good, to feel satisfying and rewarding.  I did not envision sliding around in the muck and messiness of living this way.  There is no manual that walks you through the tension between generosity and enabling, between graciousness and boundaries, between knowing the right thing to do and not wanting to do it.

Ultimately, I know it's not about feelings.  But I'm such a feeling kind of person, so this is hard for me.  I'm learning it's about obedience and faithfulness, despite what I may or may not be feeling.

Last night I felt ready to love and serve and bless but by the time Brien left I was feeling frustrated, angry and confused.  There's still work to be done in this heart of mine.

Ezra Taft Benson is quoted as saying, "The great test of life is obedience to God." If that's the case, I've got a lot of studying to do.

To My Girls -- Girls, you have walked this road with us.  You have seen us at our best and at our worst when it comes to situations like this.  My prayer is that you would ultimately remember that Daddy and my hearts' desire was and is to walk this Way of Jesus always as best we can.  May your hearts be captured with the same way of living.  You will make mistakes and it's rarely easy.  Do not be discouraged by the wrestling it brings about.  There is nothing worth pursuing more!

The No-Screen Challenge

Confession...I don't feel like a very creative mom.

It's just not one of my strengths.  Growing up, I remember my sister always getting out the craft supplies and "creating".  I never had the desire to join her.

I really just wanted to play pretend.  And some might say that is it's own creative, but really I just wanted to be in relationship in whatever way I could (even if it was a make believe relationship).

Once I became a mom, nothing changed really.  From day one I dreamt about my babies growing up and being old enough to interact with me, to have conversations and be in relationship with me.  I pictured us experiencing life together, but rarely did I picture us being creative together.

So, you can only imagine the tick I immediately developed when my 7 year old came home from school talking nonstop about a 4 day no-screen challenge.

Now, before you judge, let me reassure you that I am not the type of mom that gives my children limitless access to screens.  My children read daily.  We eat dinner together as a family with a no-screens policy.  My youngest two often disappear for long periods of time, getting caught up in creating their own stories through role play and pretend.

Just the other day the two of them created this little piece of something or other by finger knitting.  What is finger knitting you might say?  I have no idea!  It's something they learned at school.  You can see the end product below.  Looks pretty cool, right?

What do I do with this?  I have no doubt there are mothers out there that could take this and turn it into something quirky and whimsical...and if I saw it I would think "I love that, I want that in my home!"

Right now this is sitting in my trash can.  I could only take it laying around my house for so many days!

Ok, back to what I was saying...why the tick, you ask?  Why the sinking feeling in my stomach that these might be the longest 4 days of my life? (Oh I hadn't shared the sinking feeling part with you?)

To be honest, I don't really know.  Maybe it's because there are certain times of day when screens seem kind of helpful to me.  Those times when I just need everyone to be occupied while I have an uninterrupted conversation with Vaughn.   Those times when I'm making supper, fielding homework questions, and answering my phone all at the same time.  If during those times one of my little ones is quietly on a computer somewhere, I'm not complaining.

And as long as we're talking about this, I kind of like our morning routine which includes the littles waking up and coming downstairs as I finish up on the treadmill.  Is the TV on? Yes...but is it ok to feel like we kind of bond during this time as we catch up on The Biggest Loser, or Project Runway?

I'll admit my reaction was primarily selfish.  In and of itself the fact that my daughter wanted to take this no-screen challenge made me proud.  I loved the thought of her stimulating her brain in more creative ways.  I just dreaded the possibility of it meaning that I might be hearing the phrase, "What can I do?" every other minute for the next four days.

When I hear that question, something happens inside me.  I feel as though I should be able to make suggestions or provide the materials for my children to create, to craft, to find their inner artist.  But the only words that consistently come out of my mouth are, "You could color."  Due to this being my go to, I'm pretty sure I burnt my kids out on coloring by age 3!

But the day arrived and the challenge was accepted.  As the first afternoon was upon us, Aleah began thinking about things she could do.  At that moment something of the Holy Spirit nature came over me and out of my mouth came the words, "You could write a story."

I don't know why I said it...probably because the only materials it required was paper and pencil, and I knew we had those things.  Must I remind you that creativity is not my strong suit!

It doesn't really matter, though, because she agreed and immediately set herself up to start writing.

Half an hour later, she presented me with a story about our camping trip we took this summer.  A story that involved me wading into freezing cold water, doing everything I could to free up a lily pad that had the most beautiful flower on top of it.  A flower that had caught Aleah's eye.  A flower she felt she could not live without.  I had almost forgotten about this.

The next morning I was on my treadmill.  Like usual, Aleah came wondering down, sleepy eyed having just woken up.  The TV was on and she immediately went into the office to practice piano.  By the time she was done I still had 20 minutes to go and I really did not want to have to turn the TV off.  (It's all I can do to keep my mind off of what I'm doing on the treadmill)

I immediately got distracted by what I was watching (which is the whole point), but after 5 or so minutes I looked over and realized that Aleah was alphabetizing all of our DVDs by title.  She had them lined up across the floor and was working her way through the G's. 

By this time, the educator in me was being revived.  As we talked about what to do when the first two letters of two different titles were the same, I found myself smiling.  Few things compare to watching your child grasp a concept.

That's when the realization hit me.  I'm living in two different worlds.  I have two teenagers in the house.  In a previous blog I mentioned what this looks like, having to take a step back, having to simply be available when needed, learning to let them begin to step out on their own at times.  In this scenario, you can get lulled into thinking everyone is doing well because everyone can take care of themselves.

But I still have two kiddos in elementary school too.  And this is not the case for them.  They are at a very different stage, a stage that requires me to remember what it was like when my first two were this age.  A stage that involves, whether I like it or not, a bit more creative thinking.

I know it's not my strength, but I'm slowly remembering that there were days with my oldest two when I pressed in and channeled the spirits of all things creative.  I'm fairly certain we may even have some home video footage documenting such days, which may or may not include someone wearing a beak and someone wearing an eye patch holding a large knife. (I told you my creativity was questionable) I never regretted those days.

All that to say, my eye has recovered and the tick is gone.  We have one more day to go in the challenge, and I couldn't be more proud of myself, I mean Aleah.  Sometimes on this journey we need wake up calls, or reminders, or just a small kick in the tush to help make us our best.  The no-screen challenge did that for me and I'm eternally grateful!

My two youngest

To My Girls -- I am always in awe when I see you expressing yourselves creatively.  My prayer is that you will find ways to access this part of you, with and without my help!:)  Thank you for challenging me to be a better mom in this area.