Faith — We are THAT Family

Raising My Children to be Christians

7:00 am Bykristen

We had house guests recently, the kind that stay a few days, overnight even.

This always makes me nervous.

I worry about my cooking, if the bathrooms were clean enough…if there’s extra room around the table, you know how it is. It can be stressful for people like me (straightening the fringe of the rug at odd hours of the night-not really-but nearly).

This time (maybe because I was trying to impress?) I caught myself over-correcting my kids. Closely watching for bad attitudes, micro-managing their every move and expecting them to be perfect little Christian children.

By the end of the weekend, I was exhausted, not from the company or the extra work that goes with it, but from me. I was tired of me.

I was trying too hard to make my kids into what I thought they should be. They couldn’t let their hair down and just act as they normally do.

I want my kids to have Christ-like character traits. I want them to be Christians. But sometimes, I am conforming them to Christianity, rather than letting Christianity transform them.

I’ve seen kids raised in Christian homes, sent to Christian camps, schools, surrounded by “Christian” things, only to go wild and delve into sinful activity when those restraints are lifted.

I’m not against any of these settings. I think they all have their place. But in every child’s life, at some point, there will be testing. And if they’ve only conformed to Christian practices and standards without being transformed by Christ, they will fail.

My greatest desire is for Jesus to be real to my kids. I want them to turn to Him, even before they come to me. I want them to know Him, to fellowship with Him, to touch the scars in His hands and tremble at His holiness.

And this won’t happen because I demand behavior that I deem “Christian.” I honestly think that making them conform to Christianity at every turn is harmful.

It’s my job to lead them to Him. But then I have to step back and let Him move in their hearts.

I’m raising my kids to be Christians.

He will turn them into disciples.

“Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

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The Lost & The Found

7:00 am Bykristen

I stood on the crowded concrete walk looking for my oldest two in the throngs of children bursting through the school doors. Spotted, their eyes find mine and ask the same question that comes each day, “Can we stay and play?”

I nod my head, they drop backpacks at my feet, grab their baby sister’s hand and run to the swings. I find a spot to sit and visit with other mothers.

It doesn’t take long for my toddler to find a mud puddle from the rains that soaked the ground the day before. I collect her shoes and tug her resistant hand. It’s time for homework and time to stir dinner in the crock pot.

My oldest helps with the youngest and I search the playing field for my son. I don’t see him. I ask his sisters. They look too, calling and looking.

Searching. Looking. Pacing.

He is not there.

I try to slow the heart that beats faster with that very thought.

I ask around and pick up my pace, trying to remember if his shirt is yellow or orange. The crowd has thinned, but my voice is thick.

I call his name. I search and grab my phone. Others are hunting him too.

And then I look into the future of a life without my son. I pray that thought away….

Suddenly, he stumbles towards me from a forbidden wooded area that surrounds the elementary school. I can tell by his trembling lip and his older sister’s stern face, he knew my heart was in my throat.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he cried. This is my sensitive one. With just a look, he crumbles. I hugged him close, taking in the scent of this one-day man. Tears formed and I blinked them away.

He continued to apologize until we got home. I accept it over and over. “Let’s talk about this. What happened? You know that you aren’t supposed to go into the woods. I thought you were lost.”

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, “I didn’t know I was lost. Some friends asked me to come with them to help collect pine needles. I knew I shouldn’t. I gave into temptation,” he said as he hugged me tight, willing my forgiveness. I hid my smile and my tears in his hair.

“You are forgiven. But you disobeyed.” I doled out a consequence (a small one since he had already punished himself so severely).

Later as I recounted the event, I saw it differently. I was the lost. Searching for something unimportant in a place I shouldn’t be. Trying to do things on my own, pleasing the people around me, giving into temptation.

But He was searching for me. He was calling my name. Even now, when I stumble off the path, neglect the Word, seek fortune, and altogether, fail. He rallies a search party, shines His light into the darkness of my selfishness and draws me near.

He leaves the 99 for the one.

To find me.

Luke 15:4
“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?”

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The Unwritten Script

7:00 am Bykristen

I don’t talk a lot about our life in full time ministry, during our first decade of marriage.

Our last staff position was painful, it was filled with confusion and failure. Our dream job turned into a nightmare. We were isolated across the country from friends and family.

Anxiety became our companion and fear our partner.

It’s been several years since we made the decision to quit that job, sell our home and move close to family.

It was our greatest leap of faith.

We lived without a job in a borrowed home for six months.

It was a scary time, but is now one my most treasured seasons.

During those months, we struggled with our identity, but we healed. It was a slow process, but we realized God had not forgotten us.

I like to think I’m over it.

Over the unanswered questions, the why’s, the abuse.

And then when I least expect it, there it is.

During Family Camp, the camp speaker talked about when God doesn’t make sense. He shared his own painful journey and spoke to the unanswered and often unspoken questions that we all have.

He spoke of the unwritten script our lives.

And the pain resurfaced.

Life is about free choice. We all have the power of choice. And we love this! I love the freedom to decide for myself. I would never give it away.

But when I think of my children having free choice, to decide whatever they want, I’m not quite as confident in this great freedom. Because I like control. I like freedom for me, but not for everyone else.

I can’t control what others choose. I can’t stop the poor choices my kid’s might make, or worse, of an evil person.

I can’t have my free choice, but not allow it for others.

That’s why our life is unscripted. God knows what we will choose, but He lets us choose.

And sometimes those choices, ours or others, aren’t the best.

God allows pain into our lives because He is more concerned with our character than with our comfort or convenience. He can take man’s poor choices and rewrite the script of our lives.

It is God’s mystery.

And we have a choice: we can kick and scream our way through a difficult situation or we can say God is in this.

Because He is good.

We can see Him in the midst of our pain.

In the script of our lives.

What is your life saying today?

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Chasing What Matters

8:00 am Bykristen

It’s easy to be like everyone else.

I find the world I live in is constantly striving for more, More, MORE.

There is never enough. My house could be bigger. My car could be newer. My bank account could be fuller. My life could be better.

My blog could be bigger. I could have more readers, more offers, more, More, MORE.

I want more than what I have.

It’s hard to be like no one else.

I want to chase what matters (The theme of our Family Camp).

It is enough.

This goes against the very core of modern society. To stop and evaluate, to acknowledge, “I have enough. I don’t need more.”

When I focus on the blessings in my life, I can see what I need to chase more clearly.

What matters to me:

my soul. my hubby. my marriage. my kids. my family. my friends. my attitude. my effort. my effect on others. my home’s atmosphere. my…..

What matters to you?

Food for the Soul:

Matthew 6:19-21

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I Know How You Feel

7:00 am Bykristen

I said no.

And I watched her storm up the stairs and heard the slamming door.

Sigh.

Some days, nine is hard.

Some days, thirty-six is hard.

My daughter and I were both frustrated. With each other. With ourselves.

Before bed, she slipped a note, half scrawled in cursive, half in print, under my door.

Half a little girl. Half a preteen.

“Dear Mom, I’m sorry I said ugly things. Every time I do that it’s because I get mad really easily and get all steamed up and angry and say stuff I don’t mean to say. I don’t know why I get worked up like that, but I’ll try harder. Every time I get worked up like that, please remind me to try harder to not say ugly things. Please pray for me and forgive me. Also I want to stop getting worked up like that, but it’s hard for me not to. I don’t know why I do it. But I need your help not to get mad or worked up. I love you and I know you love me.”

I read her letter a dozen times. It reminded me so much of another letter.

A familiar one about a raging inner battle to control a quick temper, a bad mood, an imperfection, a battle against me.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. When I want to do good, evil is right there with me….Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Romans 7

I hugged my girl tight and told her she wasn’t alone.

“I know just how you feel.”

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When I Fail

7:00 am Bykristen

Last week was bad.

Not the kind of bad you can blame on a broken dishwasher or a stubbed toe or someone else.

It was a week filled with me, failing.

I wasn’t a great Mom or a good wife. I yelled too much and didn’t listen enough. I was short-tempered and impatient and just generally unhappy.

Sure, I can come up with excuses that might justify some of my behavior. But I had a choice how to handle my frustrating week.

And I failed.

It hurts to admit it.

We live in a world that doesn’t like failure. It’s ugly and messy. Our world wants perfection: Perfectly manicured people who never mess up.

And when you do fail, there are always a handful of people to point it out, especially in the church. Just think about the pastors and TV evangelists who’ve suffered a public fall. It makes us uncomfortable.

Failure makes us want to cover it up, to excuse it. Failure makes us want to run away.

But we were created to fail.

Through failure, I am drawn to the One who runs to me. He does not turn away from my shortcomings. He is not afraid of my humanity.

When I cut my hand chopping veggies in the kitchen, the blood in my body rushes to the wound. That’s what it was created to do. Our blood was designed to wash out the impurities and clot to protect us.

And when I fail as a parent or a wife or a person, His Blood goes to my injured heart. It rushes to the place I hurt. Because that’s what it was created to do.

He is there to wash away my regret and my sin.

When I fail.

Food for the Soul:

1 John 1:7 “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”

(thanks to my Pastor who inspired this post from his sermon)

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The Challenge

7:00 am Bykristen

My hubby and I shared a professor in Bible college. We took the class separately, but we were both impacted deeply by this wise man.

He was in his late 50′s and a new father, again. He and his wife adopted a young boy, after their children were grown. He wove his parenting challenges into his weekly lessons and while he taught us how to study the Bible, he also taught us how to be parents.

He spoke of how modern day parents put too much emphasis on non-eternal issues. And while I agree, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with rewarding our kids for good grades, clean rooms and baseball championships, as long as we also reward them for memorizing scripture, being kind to their siblings and respectful to their teachers.

I’ll never forget the professor coming in one day and saying, “I told my 9 year old son that if he could memorize The Sermon on the Mount, I would buy him any bike he wants!”

Y’all, The Sermon on the Mount is LONG. Chapters and chapters of tiny verses in red.

At the end of the semester, we celebrated with him when he said he was going bike shopping after class.

In the car a few weeks ago, our kids were chatting with us and we ended up talking about the story of Jonah and the whale from the Old Testament.

My son said, “I don’t know this story.”

I answered, “yes, you do…” and I tried to jog his memory.

“Mom, I’ve never heard that story. How could a man live inside a whale?”

My daughter piped in, “Haven’t you at least seen the movie?”

I looked at my hubby and he mentioned our college professor’s name and that’s when our idea was born.

The Challenge: We told our children if they read The Bible, they would be given a HUGE reward. My kids are two years apart, so we made the challenge within their capabilities. (My 9 year old is reading The New Testament in The Message Translation and my 7 year old is reading his entire Children’s Adventure Bible. Both kids have around 400 pages to read).

They have already read over 150 pages. Each.

Even though they both love reading, I know the big reward is not far from their minds.

After each page is completed, they initial the corner. After a couple of chapters, they tell us what they learned.

I have to admit, I’ve had to crack open my Bible and try to answer some tough questions like “Mom, why did Saul kill himself?”

I love that my kids are hiding God’s Word in their hearts. I know many parents might disagree with our approach of rewarding our kids for such a task, but we are trying to parent with a positive approach.

We don’t remind them, push them or coerce them to put their nose in The Book. We haven’t set a time limit either.

What do you think about it? Do you reward your kids? How?

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Living in the Mundane

1:00 pm Bykristen

Congratulations to the following CD winners: BeckyJoMama, Stonefox and reader (no blog) TallyMichelle!

*UPDATED* Here is Part 2 of the video.

My life is mundane.

It’s full of dirty laundry and stinky feet. Stains and spills. Unexpected bills and quarreling kids. (I’m asking about sibling rivalry here. Please, tell me how you handle it!)

There are no celebrity’s here. We’re just regular people with normal problems.

Average.

Except for the occasional lice check, family nasal experiment, or paranoid freak-out session in a an MRI machine.

(I’m still processing my doctor’s appointment today concerning my neck and back. I have some choices to make. I’ll tell you all about it soon).

I’ve always disliked the mundane. I still remember the girl who used to be me that was going to change the world. I grew up and now I only change the cat litter.

I want you to meet someone who has challenged me to invite the glorious into the mundane.

Because it’s those monotonous moments that make up a day, a week, a life.

And I want to capture them, rather than wish them away.

Christy Nockels is an up and coming Christian singer who’s album Light Life Up debuted on June 2. She accompanied Chris Tomlin in vocals in his recent tour.

She’s also a Mom. Just like us. And she struggles with the mundane too.

Would you listen to this and let it challenge you?

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5271209&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

Being A Mom {Part 1} from christy nockels on Vimeo.

After you listen, please let me know how you feel about being a Mom, mundane moments and all. Three commenters will win Christy’s new CD Light Life Up.

You can download her song here for free.

This giveaway will end on Friday.

*UPDATED* Here is Part 2.

http://farm.sproutbuilder.com/load/nwCWTmr_FlDBYnQd.swf

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Yes

7:00 am Bykristen

I say no more than I say yes.

I didn’t realize it until I became conscious of it. My real life friend Jennifer issued a personal challenge for herself: to say yes as often as she could this summer.

She encouraged me to do the same.

I learned something the first day I tried it: I say no all the time.

Naturally, I choose no more than yes.

I don’t like this about me.

Oh, I can offer dozens of excuses for why I say no. Safety is obviously a priority. Cleanliness is way up there too. But I like structure, organization. I like control. And I can maintain control if I say no.

Often times, saying yes requires more work for me. I say no because I’m selfish.

Yuck.

So, I’m baby-stepping, I’m trying to say yes more.

Yes, you can do sidewalk chalk in your pajamas. Yes, you can pull all the cushions off the couch for family movie night.

(Try not to look at what was under the couch cushions)

It’s not easy for me to say yes.

And I’m not good at it.

Lisa (the genius blogger behind the retired Domestic Accident) sent me this link.

I encourage you to watch the video or listen to the tract. It’s from a Mom, who is dying. She writes about how Death is Not Dying. She talks about saying yes and about capturing each moment and about finding true happiness at the Cross.

I was moved deeply by it.

Moved to say yes.

Yes, you can have a silly string fight on the trampoline.

Yes, you can build a fort on the landing and leave it up for two days. Yes, you can eat lunch in it. Yes, you can introduce your sister to Sleeping Beauty on my laptop in the fort….

Yes, yes, yes.

It’s getting easier.

Is it hard for you to say yes or are you a natural?

Food for the Soul:

You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. Psalm 16:11

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I’m Sorry

7:00 am Bykristen

My little boy is sensitive. He is sandwiched between two sisters. His heart is big, generous and he’s an encourager by nature.

But I’ve noticed he says two things all the time.

First (and totally not his fault), he says “Omygosh” every time he’s excited, shocked, surprised, happy, mad….

In other words, he says it a lot. So does his Momma. And I’m working on that, really, I am. Especially since my two year old picked it up the other day. It sounds horrible coming from her puckered lips.

Slap my hand when you hear me say it, m’kay?

But the other phrase he uses often is “I’m sorry.”

In his sweet way, whenever he’s corrected or asked something, he tucks his head, looks down and says, “I’m sorry” first.

I decided I really needed to help him understand that “I am sorry” is an apology. It’s not what you say when you think you might be in trouble, or when you’re slow to make your bed or when you ask if you can stay up a few minutes to read.

I talked with him and explained that he didn’t have to be sorry for everything. I encouraged him to use those words only when he needed to apologize.

A few nights later, we worked in the yard after dinner. We came in hot and tired. I was ready for a bath after my kids had theirs. I was also ready for them to get to bed.

My son entered the kitchen and said, “Can I have a snack?”

“I guess,” I exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I stopped him. “Why? Why are you sorry for asking for a snack? You’ve worked hard and you’re hungry?”

“I said I’m sorry because of the look on your face. You looked very sad when I asked you,” he confessed.

And that’s when it dawned on me. My little boy apologizes for me, not to me. My actions, the look on my face, my tone, made him feel like he had wronged me in some way.

Gulp.

I hugged his gangly body to mine and told him I was sorry. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you were doing something wrong. I’m tired, honey, and I’m ready to go to bed. It’s not you. It’s me.”

It’s in those little moments that I feel God’s finger pinpointing a place in my heart. An ugly spot that I need to work on.

My exasperation and moods affect my kids. My tone and impatient foot-tapping make them feel pressured and uncomfortable.

It was me all along.

And I’m sorry.

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Setting the Tone of Your Home

7:00 am Bykristen

Our home is a busy place.

It’s noisy and bustling, sometimes dirty, always lived-in.

It’s not cold, chaotic or controlled.

It’s warm and welcoming and imperfect.

My hubby and I work very hard to set the tone of our home. We have made conscious choices to create a healthy atmosphere for our family.

The other night before bed, we were reading Moments With You: Daily Connections for Couples together. In it, Donna Otto, founder of Homemakers by Choice, writes, “parents are not called to be the thermometers in the home, but the thermostats…Thermostats don’t just read the temperature, they guide. They determine how warm or cool the home environment will be.”

It’s so true! We’ve found when there is tension in our marriage or when we are grumpy and discontent, so are our children. They are taking their cues from us.

We want our home to have purpose and direction. It has been six months since we took back control of the time we spent in our home. I was stressed about our hectic after-school schedule and TV and video games ruled our home.

I cannot tell you how much the tone has changed! The temperature is just right (disclaimer: we do have a 2 year old, so please take that into account).

How we changed the tone of our home:

Minimized TV and video games-We cut off the Cable (in the Family Room. Hubby and I still have basic cable in our bedroom) and we limit ALL screen time (TV, Wii, DS, etc.) to 30 minutes a day during the week. This was tough for my kids at first. But they acclimatized to the temperature after awhile and we have seen a complete turn around in their attitudes and even desire to watch TV.
Significantly reduced extracurricular activities-My kids are involved in Boy/Girl Scouts monthly and that’s it! We don’t do any sports or lessons, at all! I’m not opposed to these, but for us, it was just too much. Not only was it very expensive, we were constantly rushing from one activity to another after school. We reserve sports for the summer, where my kids can ‘try out’ a sport for six weeks through the YMCA. Around here, we are definitely in the minority since my kids haven’t found their sport (with private lessons), but they are 9 and nearly 7. The have plenty of time to pursue sports they really love in junior high and high school.
Family meals-We eat approximately six nights a week around our table, together. We cook and clean and talk, together. I love this time. A couple of nights a week, we use some conversation starters to make sure we’re communicating with our kids about issues they may be having (Here’s a great Character Building book) .
Utilize our time-Without the distractions of TV and activities, we have a lot of time on our hands. We spend much of it in our backyard, in our new garden, riding bikes, and taking walks. Baking and crafting have become family affairs. We love family movie night with popcorn and blankets. Without the expense of extracurricular activities, we set money aside to have special family nights at my kid’s favorite spots, monthly.
Using a Family calendar-We have a family calendar displayed in a central location. We keep track of our schedule as a whole and we pencil in family nights. This has really helped to alleviate confusion and prevented cramming too much into our schedules. When I see the calendar begin to fill up, I know when we need to say yes or no. A crazy schedule leads to chaos for our family!
Encouraging reading-My kids love to read. I love seeing them read. I secretly love catching them reading after hours under their covers with a flashlight. During this time of limited TV, I have seen an amazing love of books come alive in my kids. I’m going to be sharing more about this one in the next few weeks.
Enforcing a bedtime routine-One or both of us pray with our kids at bedtime. We snuggle and talk and whisper. We are also consistent with bedtime on weeknights.
Flexibility- All of these guidelines just become rules if we don’t have flexibility. We don’t want our home to be controlled and we don’t want to stifle our children’s energy. Everything we do is coupled with a spirit of flexibility. My kids have brightened at unplanned spontaneity and blossomed when we gave them a chance to voice their opinions.

We are not perfect and sometimes even our best laid plans go array. In those moments of chaos, I take a deep breath, think through how we got to that place and try to adjust the temperature in our home.

Because sometimes it’s too hot, other times it’s too cold. And every once in awhile, it’s just right.

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Filthy Rags

7:00 am Bykristen

My baby has a special blanket.

(It’s hard to find a photo without her holding it. I am happy to report that in the last two weeks the pacifier has been successfully banished for bedtime use only. Hallelujah).

The blanket was a gift from her Grandma when she was born. (My Mom has since sewn it into a small blanket because she constantly tripped, carrying it around the house).

The little blanket is her security.

And her constant companion. She carries it everywhere. She reaches for it in new situations. When she’s afraid or being corrected, she asks for it. It accompanies her to Sunday School and it helped her through her uncertainty in potty training.

Well. She’s two years old. So is her blankie.

And there’s just so much Tide can do.

I’ve laid hands on my dryer and prayed it would dry hotter and faster because we both needed her to have her blanket back during brief washing spells!

(Yes, I realize we have issues, but that’s not what this post is about).

I washed it with color safe bleach the other day and was proud of the results. It was still a little tattered, but it was clean and white again.

My Mom delivered a gift a few days later. She found a brand new blanket on Ebay, the same discontinued one my toddler loved.

And suddenly, her beloved blanket looked old and dirty, like a filthy rag.

It amazed me how white the new one looked in comparison:

My little girl’s reaction to her new blanket was precious. She looked at it closely, rubbed it to her face, dropped the old one and asked to take a nap!

She recognized the difference and she wanted the pristine blanket.

And I recognized that sometimes my heart looks like the old blanket. I try on my own to clean it up and make it new again. But when I compare it to God, it is shabby.

My own efforts of good works and deeds are fine, but they cannot clean my heart. They make me feel secure and I cling to them, but they do not transform me.

Only the Creator can make me new again when the hardships of this life fray my soul and unravel my resolve.

Only God. And when I compare the two of us, I crave the pristine.

Create in me a clean heart O, God.

Psalm 51:7 Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean, scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don’t look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don’t throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails!

I believe in forgiveness. Do you?

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Easter

7:00 am Bykristen

A virgin.

A baby.

Savior.

A boy.

A temple.

Miracles.

Messiah.

A donkey.

A crowd. Waving Palm Branches.

A Triumphal Entry.

Jesus.

The Last Supper. A Cup.

A Garden. A Prayer.

A kiss. A Betrayal.

An Arrest.

Scourged. Beaten. Whipped.

A Cross.

A Hill. A Crowd. A Crown. Thorns. Nails. Hands. Feet.

A Spear.

A Cry.

A Die Cast.

Death.

An Ending.

Darkness.

Sorrow. Weeping.

Wait-

A Rumble.

An Angel.

A Stone. Rolling. A Witness. pan>

A Miracle.

Alive.

Jesus.

Forever.

Sin.

Forgiven.

For Me: A Hope.

For You: A Future.

For Us: A Beginning.

We will see Him again.

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Easter Story Eggs

9:00 pm Bykristen

One of my favorite celebrations is Easter.

I love Spring! And candy shaped like eggs!

But as a Christian, I enjoy sharing the Resurrection Story with my kids.

For the past 5 or 6 years, we have used Resurrection Eggs to tell the amazing story. Family Life created these incredible story-telling tools before I was a parent and they have been hugely successful. Wal Mart sells them for a fantastic price. If you can’t find them there, you can get them here (Resurrection Eggs).

The boxed set of plastic eggs come with a very good book that explains the story with Scriptures and ideas for celebrating. Each egg contains a symbol of The Resurrection story.

We gave our set away this year to our Russian Friends to take with them on their trip.

Instead of buying another one, we thought it would be powerful to make our own!

I saved an egg carton and gathered a dozen plastic eggs.

We made a list of 12 items that are in the Resurrection Story and if we couldn’t find the object around the house/yard, we just used our creativity.

Here’s ours:

1. A picture of a donkey (Jesus triumphal entry)

2. Palm leaf from our front yard

3. A cup (from the Last Supper) We used a small lid to a water bottle

4. A flower (representing the Garden where Jesus prayed)

5. Some coins (Judas’ betrayal)

6. A piece of leather (symbolizing the whip)

7. A thorn (crown of thorns)

8. A paper cross

9. A dice (represent the soldiers who gambled for his clothes)

10. A nail (crucifixion)

11. A rock (to cover the tomb)

12. An empty egg (to remember the empty tomb!)

I think this is such a fantastic way to teach Easter in a tangible way. You can open all the eggs at one time or do like our family and begin twelve days before Easter and open one egg each night. We’re on day three and it’s such a fun way to end our day. Our kids take turns opening the eggs and we read Scripture.

Tonight we Googled the place of Jesus’ death because they had so many questions and thoughts….

It’s more than a story!

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I Will Not Leave You

7:00 am Bykristen

“Son, I’m going to grab a quick bath, okay?”

“Uh, huh,” he mumbled from the middle of my bed, surrounded by big pillows and covered in thick blankets.

He was taking a sick day from school and the rest of the family was in the school drop-off line.

I decided to grab the few minutes of quiet because I knew they would be fleeting.

I shut the door with my son on the other side, ran a hot bath and slipped into the tub.

The warm water eased my hurried mind.

In the quiet, I closed my eyes. A few minutes passed….

And that’s when I heard an urgent guttural cry, a scream for help.

I jumped from the water, grabbed my towel and threw open the door. I found my feverish son standing in the middle of my room, shaking and crying in fear.

“What?? What happened? Are you okay?” I glanced around the room with a pounding heart.

Through sobs and snotty tears, “I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t find you, I couldn’t find you,” he repeated over and over.

“Son, I was in the bath! Why did you think I left?” I said with a trembling voice.

“I don’t know. I just forgot. Sometimes, I’m afraid I will be left alone and not have you and Daddy,” he sobbed uncontrollably.

I grabbed him by the arms and glared into his eyes and said with all the love and firmness I possessed, “I will not leave. I WILL NOT leave you. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU.”

And then I hugged him and we both cried.

Even after I’d comforted him, the words banged around in my heart, I will not leave you.

Settled back in bed, my hubby returned home with our toddler to grab a few items and head to work. I told him what happened.

Understandably, he thought it was ridiculous that my son knew I was taking a bath, only to forget and get hysterical, for no reason. He blamed it on him not feeling well.

I agreed.

But I couldn’t shake those words from my head.

So, I sat down and listened to my heart.

This is what I heard: “I will not leave you, Kristen. I will not leave you. Even though you know I am here, you doubt Me. Some days you feel alone, isolated, afraid. I will not leave you. I WILL NOT leave you. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU.”

It was as if God grabbed me by the arms, glared into my eyes and said it with all the love and firmness He possessed.

And I believed Him.

*Updated* Would you please pray with me for this family? I met them a few weeks ago, they are staying in Texas to receive medical care for their precious new son. Today, he underwent surgery and this promise is especially needed today. Thank you!

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I Believe

7:00 am Bykristen

I had something silly planned for today.

And maybe I’ll post it later.

Instead, I just wanted to talk. Is that okay?

For the last couple of days, I’ve followed links on Twitter.

And they led me to blogs dedicated to children. Very sick children.

I don’t know what it is about these kind of posts that make my world standstill. It’s as if nothing else matters in that moment. I am compelled to know. Sometimes I am afraid to read. Sometimes I can’t see because of the tears.

At the same time, I want to run away immediately. I want to distract myself from learning of an ill child. I don’t want to think of them missing their childhood and I don’t want to put myself in their place. I don’t want to imagine my child in their child’s place.

But I have to read and find out the how, the when and the where.

It’s the why I struggle with the most. Why do innocent babies and rosy cheeked toddlers and active children get cancer? Why do children suffer and babies struggle before they take their first breath? Why are some born with the heavy burden of a disease that cannot be cured? Why are my children healthy and theirs aren’t?

I don’t know.

I don’t understand.

But.

I believe God.

I believe He can heal.

Please read this post if you doubt it.

And although His healing may not always leave these sweet children in the arms of their parents, He does heal.

Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cora, a tiny baby with Stage IV cancer or of Tuesday, a darling twin daughter who is fighting for her life. I whispered a prayer for Abby, a precious girl and of Parker, who is a strong fighter. I thought of Kayleigh who is nearly 7 months old and hasn’t left the hospital and of Harper who is winning the battle to go home.

So many.

But.

I believe God.

This post isn’t for Christians. It’s not just for people who go to church, who are religious or spiritual.

It’s for you. You are supposed to read this.

If it was your child and you were desperate, wouldn’t you try praying?

I wrote down their names in a notebook. Will you join me in praying for them? Will you read their stories, touch the face of their children and ask God?

I can’t help but think of the Mother’s of these babies. I’m asking for them.

Do you believe?

It’s a beautiful thing to care about others.

*UPDATE* Thank you for praying with me today and every day that you think about one of these children. Please read this comment from Parker’s mom. I think it balances out the sadness that we feel:

“I can’t speak for every family who has a child who is ill, or has special needs, or both. I can only speak for me and my family.

Parker is a total joy. He is faith in action. Each day this kid wakes up, smiles and faces the day with a determination that is humbling.

Parker is a master teacher. He is here not because he needed us, but because we needed him. Because of Parker our family has learned eternal truths that I don’t think we ever could have learned in any other way.

I would hope that when reading Parker’s story, people wouldn’t feel sad. I would hope instead that they would feel uplifted, inspired and armed with the knowledge that all life is worth living.

Through the love, support and prayers of others we are uplifted more than you can imagine.

Parker is a living testimony to the power of prayer. I am so blessed to be his mother.

I wouldn’t trade this kid for anything.

My insurance company on the other hand is a totally different matter.”

(I know there are many other sick children who need our prayers, please leave their names/links in the comments and add them to Mr. Linky below. This is the one time I use Mr. Linky that I’d like to see empty.)

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The First Nativity

7:00 am Bykristen

I love nativity scenes.

Mine sits on my entry table as a welcome into my home and as a statement that I hope trumps all my other decor.

I love looking at Mary- looking at her baby. I love the protective stance Joseph holds over his son.

I love the warm colors and the simplicity.

The elegance.

But the more I stared and contemplated this pretty scene this season, I realized something is missing.

The reality.

Can you imagine being a young girl of 15 or 16, escaped from the comforts of home with a full belly and a child you didn’t expect? On a donkey.

Can you imagine giving birth in a foul, smelly barn and being thankful you found a food trough to place your newborn son in? The good man she married, but didn’t know yet, delivered her son to an audience of cows and sheep.

The hay is blood-stained. The air is musty. The dirty animals are noisy.

There are no knitted booties or helpful nurses. There isn’t a bath or even a bed.

And there certainly aren’t clean, pastel flowing garments….

But there is peace.

There is hope.

There is worship.

There is a Savior.

And that is enough.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Enjoy this beautiful time reveling in Him.

I will be hiding my bathroom scale in a dark corner of the house, feasting at The Farm and watching my kids discover the glory of Jesus and the thrill of Santa.

I’ll peek my head in here and resume around New Year’s, unless something really funny happens. Which is entirely possible. Thank you for being a part of my world. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Merry Christmas!

Food for the Soul:

“But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”- Matthew 1:20-21

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It Happened to Me

12:30 pm Bykristen

Something scary happened last week.

It left me shaken.

I didn’t plan on blogging about it. I didn’t know if I could.

But all week, I’ve wondered if my story could save a child’s life.

A child like mine.

My toddler nearly choked to death at a restaurant.

Now, I joked when I wrote a letter to Mr. Heimlich. And Lord knows, we’ve had our fair share of THAT family moments, but what I’m going to tell you is not funny and I cannot make light of it.

I joined my parents for an impromptu lunch with my toddler in tow. It was at my favorite Mexican food place, so I couldn’t exactly turn the offer down.

My parents and I were talking politics and my girl was next to me in a high chair. My Dad noticed she had something in her mouth and said, “What is that?”

I saw the empty candy wrapper on the edge of the table and I remembered seeing her tuck a peppermint into her pocket from the candy bowl at the entrance of the restaurant.

I meant to get it from her.

But I got busy.

Once I saw the candy in her mouth, I held out my hand, but before I could tell her to spit, she swallowed the hard mint.

And she choked.

I patted her back briskly.

The gagging and gasping continued. I picked her up.

I pounded harder and looked to my parents for help.

They jumped up and came around the table.

At this point, my toddler was still pink, but she struggled to breath.

I put my arms around her middle and did The Heimlich Maneuver.

The candy was still lodged and my daughter was losing the battle of her life.

I tried again.

And again.

My Dad grabbed her and we ran towards the bathroom. He picked her up and turned her upside down.

Still nothing.

My Mom stuck her hand down my baby’s throat. So, did I.

Again, nothing.

At this point, I am praying. Hard. “Jesus, please help my baby.”

She is still panting/breathing and we determined that the candy was lodged in her windpipe and although it wasn’t a total obstruction, if it shifted to cover her complete airway, we would have only seconds…..

Another minute passed and I was at a complete loss. We tried everything.

I will never forget the pleading look in my child’s eyes. She was asking for help. She clawed at me while she made pathetic noises. I felt so helpless.

I remembered there was a doctor’s office in the same shopping strip and I told my parents that’s where I was headed. I wanted them to call 911 (I still cannot believe the restaurant didn’t offer to do this).

But just before I ran out the door, my Dad gave her one more hard thrust on the back and she vomited on the floor.

I’ve never been so happy to see my child throw up in public! We took her into the bathroom checked her out and wiped her face.

Her demeanor, breathing, instantly changed and everything was completely normal. As a matter of fact, she was giddy with bright eyes.

I can’t help but think she was just so happy to be alive.

I learned some very important lessons from this ordeal (I talked with my friend Karen a nurse, and replayed my actions):

1. DO NOT let babies or toddlers have hard candy.

2. DO NOT assume someone will help you.

3. DO TRY The Heimlich Maneuver.

4. DO GIVE hard pats on the back.

5. DO CALL 911 immediately.

6. DO NOT wait. Ask if there is a medical person nearby. Make a scene.

7. DO NOT allow your kids to eat in the car. Choking is silent.

8. DO LOVE on your babies. Because life is precious.

Please visit, the following link for step-by-step guidelines for choking children. I’ve memorized it.

Once I got home, I tucked my exhausted baby in her bed and collapsed into a tearful pile. I twittered the story while my hands were still shaking. I think I just needed good thoughts and prayers sent my way.

9. DON’T THINK it can’t happen to you.

“He will give his angels charge over you to guard you in all His ways,” Psalm 91:11

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How I Met Jesus

7:00 am Bykristen

I can’t remember when I found Jesus.

There wasn’t a great clap of thunder. Or a Heavenly choir. Or even a memory.

I have known of Him since childhood.

Because I grew up with Him. He was like the unseen guest in our home.

Before I knew my own address, I could tell you all about Heaven. Before I was old enough to feed my pet, I could tell others about Him feeding 5,000.

I can’t tell you the day or the time, what I was wearing or how I felt about our meeting.

I do remember falling in love with Him as a child. And questioning Him as an adolescence and needing Him as a teen. I remember following Him as a young adult.

But remembering a time without Him?

I can’t.

And for years, that bothered me.

I remember thinking, I need a story. What’s my story? A testimony.

As I sat in a church service as a college-aged girl, I heard a young woman my age share her testimony. She shared in detail the abuse she’d endured, her promiscuity, the pain of her life.

It was then that it dawned on me that I had a great testimony. One that I pray my own children will share.

My parents were first generation Christians and they changed their family tree the day they met Jesus. They provided a place and an atmosphere where I avoided experiencing so many of life’s sorrows.

I wasn’t perfect (just ask my parents), but I never rebelled outwardly. I had a bad attitude and sulky personality. I went thru a boy crazy period and tested some rules. But I also grew strong in my faith as a young girl and walked with Jesus. It was His Saving Grace that allowed me to enter my marriage, as a pure, albeit, naive lady.

And I’ve faced tough times as an adult and mom. We struggled in the ministry the first 10 years of our marriage, I went thru infertility, a miscarriage and nearly lost my third child. We endured a painful year-long ordeal that nearly destroyed our marriage, a career change and several very bad decisions.

But thru it all, there has been One who has held my hand, walked and even carried me thru the hard times.

Jesus.

He remembers how He found me.

Food for the Soul:

Matthew 1:21

“She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

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Meaningless

7:01 am Bykristen

I have a nice house. It’s not too big or too small. It’s just right. Even though most days I can write my name in the dust.

I have a newish van to tote my children in around town. The sticky hand prints in the windows are just a bonus.

I have a closet full of clothes and even more I hope to wear again, 10 pounds from now.

I have two daughters and a son who captivate me and make my hair turn gray.

I have a strong marriage with my best friend, who still thinks I enjoy being tickled.

I don’t.

I have some dear relationships with friends and family.

I have enough money in the bank to be enough.

I have a blog that fulfills the voice within me. (And it doesn’t even matter that the voice sounds like screaming to those who live with me)

And it is all meaningless.

Without Him.

Give me a bigger house, a newer, cleaner van, designer clothes to fit my skinny body, better-behaved children, a perfect marriage, more than enough money, more friends, a popular income-pr
oducing blog . . . give me more than I have now! But if I don’t have God, it is still meaningless.

Our world has twisted the meaning of greatness into acquisitions .

But it’s not in the what-or the how much-

It’s in the knowing- of Him.

That is true success.

I heard Anthony Evans (son of Pastor Tony Evans) sing a song he wrote, called “Meaningless”.

It touched me to hear a successful young singer who ‘has it all’ share that his life is meaningless without God. And it was a gentile reminder, that mine is too.

Listen to the words:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pdN1i9OqCI]

Food for the Soul:

Galations 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

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Men’s Week- When My Marriage Fell Apart

7:00 am Bykristen

This post is For Women Only.

Just like the book titled, For Women Only by Shaunti Feldhahn. (I’m giving it away, today!)

I read this book the week after Thanksgiving in November of 2005.

I remember the date exactly because it was the week my marriage fell apart.

Yeah. It surprised me too.

There had been a crack in the wall of my marriage. I didn’t see it or want to see it and then one day, after 11 years, the whole thing crumbled.

It was horrible. It was the first time that love didn’t seem to be enough.

We had issues and problems and pain. There were tears and fights and disappointments.

(Because Google is forever, I won’t go into details, but just for the record, this was very serious, but did not involve a third party).

Our marriage hung precariously over the edge of a cliff and we had one choice to make: Give it a nudge or hang on for dear life.

But we dug in our heels, went to counseling for months and decided to rebuild the walls of our marriage. One stone at a time.

During those months, I lost weight and my appetite. I mourned the loss of something I never had: the perfect marriage.

We talked, cried, prayed. And we forgave.

We also read. A lot. One of the most helpful books for me was For Women Only: What you need to know about the inner lives of men.

I entered my marriage as a naive young girl. And I didn’t know very much about men. I think this book impacted me so much because it explained how men think. Even after more than a decade married to a good man, I didn’t truly understand the way God had created him.

The book is filled with facts, statistics, national surveys, and interviews with men. The entire thing was an eye-opening revelation for me.

I don’t usually endorse books, but this one is amazing for women (and not just naive ones with endangered marriages) I would recommend every woman read it!

But the most important part of our rebuilding, was prayer and divine help from God. He walked with us through the valleys.

But we had to invite Him.

I know that you may have ascertained an opinion of my marriage before reading this post. And I don’t blame you. Some readers have even commented about our ‘perfect marriage’ or ‘how much we love each other.’ And while it’s not perfect or even close, it is good.

But, mainly because for awhile, it was very bad.

And I love him more deeply and we share more intimacy because of the bad.

So if today finds you in a crumbling marriage, please be encouraged. It can be rebuilt, even if your surrounded by broken dreams.

If your marriage is strong and secure, be thankful and remember to seal the cracks as they occur.

Many people don’t know that we nearly lost it all. My hubby and I feel challenged to share our testimony as opportunities are presented. It helps fortify the walls, ya know?

As you might imagine, just typing this post has made me feel vulnerable. So, virtual ((hugs)) are accepted and appreciated.

And give your marriage a big boost by buying your hubby, For Men Only: A Straightforward Guide to the Lives of Woman.

He may be surprised to learn more about you.

Leave a comment by 10 pm (CST) tonight and you’ll be entered to win a free copy of For Women Only!

Food for the Soul:

John 16:33

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

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God Sees

7:00 am Bykristen

When I was in the 8th grade, I was nominated by a teacher to be in a peer program. As a pimply introverted teen with a headgear and a blaring label that screamed, ‘Christian,’ I was honored.

The peer program matched me with a high risk elementary student, only 3 years younger.

Her name was Tiffany.

And she changed my life.

Or at least the way I viewed my life.

I grew up in a sheltered home. I had loving parents and a great church. My biggest concerns were said headgear and pimples.

I’ll never forget the day I met Tiffany. The school counselor introduced us. I knew she came from a tough environment, but I don’t think I even knew what that meant.

My first impression of Tiffany was, “this is what poor looks like.” Her clothes were dirty and worn. She wore a headband in her tangled hair. She looked sad. And old.

She also was very big for her age, and appeared to be just a size under me.

Our first meeting was awkward.

The second time, we talked. I will never forget what she told me. “My mom ran off last year. She left me with her x-boyfriend. It’s just me and him and he’s mean to me.”

Oh, my.

I still remember the feeling I felt in that tiny room. I wanted to help Tiffany. I had never met a desperate child before. It was the first time my heart broke for someone other than myself.

Through tears, I told my mom and sister Tiffany’s story. They agreed that we had to do something. My sister and I filled 3 huge bags with clothes and shoes. I remember going through my costume jewelry and picking out some of my favorite things for her.

I had never given anyone something of mine before. And it felt good.

Handing my used things to a flabbergasted, grateful girl was a defining moment for me. We both cried and hugged. I saw her hope in her eyes.

I couldn’t wait to see her in new clothes.

But I never did. The next time we were supposed to meet, she was gone.

The counselor explained that her father withdrew her from school. No contact information. No forwarding address. I tried to explain what she told me. The counselor patted me on the shoulder and gave me the name of a new student to meet with.

I never heard another word about her, but I never forgot Tiffany.

My life went on much the same, but I was different. I also struggled to make sense why I couldn’t have helped Tiffany more. Every time I thought of her, I said a quick prayer.

Five years later, I was a freshman in college 200 miles from home. I had just landed a coveted job as a tutor for The Texas Baptist Home for Children. It paid $12.00 an hour, a fortune even now for a college student.

I got into the swing of tutoring these troubled kids after my classes. The State of Texas had removed them from their homes for various reasons. I mainly tutored elementary kids.

I came in one day, feeling down. I was dealing with the normal anxieties of young adult life. And I felt alone, away from home for the first time and questioning my purpose.

A new student had been assigned to me. Her name was Tiffany.

It took a few minutes of us staring across the table at each other. And then we jumped up and hugged.

A hundred questions tumbled out of my mouth. She filled in the years since we’d last seen each other. The State had removed her two years before. She was safe. Happy. And she still carried a piece of the jewelry I had given her. There was hope in her eyes.

Our reunion was brief because Tiffany was permanently placed into a home. A real home.

I have drawn from this experience my entire adult life. He knew I would meet Tiffany again one day. He has woven the tapestry of our lives. It looks messy and tangled at times, but when you turn it over, it forms a beautiful story.

I cannot tell you why I’m posting this today. Except that someone out there needs to know that He knows where you are and what you need.

God sees.

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What is Modest?

7:00 am Bykristen

My daughter is dramatic.

Very dramatic.

There’s lots of drama in our home.

So, I decided to enroll her in a week-long Drama Camp this summer.

Her excitement is palpable. That girl could win an Oscar.

The camp is hosted by this really great Christian drama program. I took my older kids to see their latest musical, Beauty in the Beast, three weeks ago. I was very impressed.

The summer camp will be held in a local church, in the Sanctuary.

I got an email confirming my daughter’s registration. The email also outlined the camp dress code.

Here is the drama camp dress code:

Absolutely NO stomachs showing.
You must be able to lift your arms up and stretch without showing skin.
No spaghetti straps or tank tops.
No girl gym shorts or other short shorts.
Longer shorts are okay.
No skirts above the knee
No underwear showing, even when you bend over.
No bra straps showing, or see through shirts.
Tank tops or camisoles are suggested for wearing under anything thin or see through.
No extremely low, tight, or gaping shirts
Swimwear must be modest (no two piece swimsuits, please) for the last day, which is Water Day.

Literally as I read this list, my bra strap slipped from under my tank top. Boy, did I suddenly feel trashy.

First of all, before any of you wonder where I stand on this, I was impressed that this Christian organization was so proactive and demanded high standards.

We live in Texas. And the dictionary defines Texas as HOT, like Africa. Oh, yeah, just check.

And so, dress code can be sketchy. Even for Christians.

My daughter is 8. Most of her shorts are short. She wears tanks. And, brace yourself, she’s sporting a bikini this summer.

But we don’t do half or strapless shirts. I don’t like for her belly to show and she’s very self-conscious about even the band of her underwear showing, so really short things are out.

If you were to ask me, I’d say modesty is important to me.

But after I read this, I knew I hadn’t really thought it through thoroughly or shopped accordingly.

I mean, will she want to wear a bikini 4 or 5 years from now because I let her now?

I know there will be differing opinions from both ends of the spectrum on this and I can’t wait to read what you’ve got to say.

Bottom line for me (and I don’t expect everyone to agree): I want to raise modest daughters who love their bodies and don’t feel the need to show it off.

And, I’m pretty sure I can do better (although I won’t be banning tank tops anytime soon)!

Oh, and I’ve got a little shopping to do.

Food for the Soul:

I Timothy 2:9, “I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety …”

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Dreams Do Come True

2:08 pm Bykristen

Cinderella. She’s a big deal at our house.

I’m serious.

She is the princess to love. Any why wouldn’t she be? Her story begins as a broken, unloved girl, dressed badly. She gets help from some talking mice, the supernatural, has a major transformation, gets the cute guy and lives happily ever after.

Very realistic.

I found this picture the other day.

It’s my firstborn, meeting Cinderella for the first time. She was two. At eight, she still remembers that moment when she flew into the princess’ arms. She felt safe, content and loved. It was her dream come true.

I’ll never forget it. We waited in line for hours. We were hot, sweaty and tired. But my eyes filled with tears as I watched my baby run into Cinderella’s waiting arms. My hubby looked at me and then at Cinderella and said, “Maybe she is real.”

And ya’ll, I think he meant it.

When I think of my life . . . the bad choices I’ve made, the grace I’ve been given, the miracle that I call my children, I can’t help but feel like my little girl did -when she met Cinderella for the first time.

That’s going to be me one day, running into my Father’s arms. Meeting the ONE who gave me life, let me be a mom, a wife. I will feel safe, content and loved. I will say thank you.

My dream come true.

VERY REALISTIC.

Food for the Soul:

Isaiah 6:1-3

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple.  Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying.  And they were calling to one another: ”
       “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty;
       the whole earth is full of his glory.”

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