Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 11

Turn, turn, turn


When I was a tiny girl, a group called The Byrds recorded a song written by folk artist Pete Seeger. It was called "Turn! Turn! Turn!" Maybe you've heard it:

To everything
Turn! Turn! Turn!
There is a season
Turn! Turn! Turn!
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven.


You may recognize those words from the third chapter of Ecclesiastes, one of the Bible's books of wisdom. The Byrds' popular song echoed the words of the King James Version:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

 a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

No one would argue with the wisdom of those words. The tricky part is remembering them, don't you think?


I've written before about how quickly time passes. In fact, I firmly believe that a better motto for parents than Carpe Diem is Tempus Fugit. Not every day is worth seizing; some we merely survive. But wow, does time fly.

Here's one of the first pictures ever taken of me and my oldest son, Will:



Just three weeks after this photo was taken, I took baby Will to visit my mother. Very vividly now does a scene come back to me. We took Will for a walk in his stroller, and as we walked, my mom told me that I should savor the moments of his babyhood. "Turn around," she said, "and he'll be leaving." Then she quoted one of those sweet Kingston Trio songs she always loved:

Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are going, my baby, my own?
Turn around, and you're two
Turn around, and you're four
Turn around, you're a young girl
Going out of the door.

At that point I still had the swollen tummy of a new mother, and I could hardly imagine fitting back into my skinny jeans, much less having that little baby big enough to leave. So I did a pirouette on the sidewalk and giggled at my mother. She just gave me one of those wise smiles and said, "Wait and see."

My mom left this earth nearly 20 years ago, but I've thought of her words often through the years. She was right.

I turned once, and he was 10 years old.



I turned again, and he graduated from college.



I turned once more, and he was commissioned as an officer in the U.S. Navy.



One more time, and he began training to be an aviator.


There will be more photos of Will made this week, but they won't feature my son with his mom. They'll be pictures of him with this beautiful woman:


On June 15, this boy of mine—no longer a boy now—will walk down the aisle in Pensacola, Florida, and vow to love, honor, and cherish Christiana as long as they both shall live.

Turn, turn, turn. Really and truly, tempus fugit: time flies.

Sometimes people ask me for parenting advice, and there's one piece I'll give. You know that phone you're holding? Don't hold it so much, except for one thing. Use it to take pictures. 

Capture the moments, for soon—very soon—they'll be memories.

Tuesday, April 24

A new book for you (and a giveaway!)


Many years ago, I attended a blogging conference. Before I attended, I believed that the conference would answer all my questions about blogging and that I would leave with everything I needed to become a highly successful blogger, blah, blah, blah.

Honestly, the conference was pretty good. I most certainly did not have all my questions answered, but I was glad I went—not because of the information I collected, but because of the people I met. And here's one of the best of those people:


This is Shelly Wildman, and today I'm especially proud to say that I know Shelly. Because today, Shelly's first book launches into the world. First Ask Why: Raising Kids to Love God Through Intentional Discipleship isn't a typical how-to-parent book (I'm not a fan of typical parenting books, actually). This book is different.


I met Shelly when were both in the thick of parenting teenagers. Shelly has three daughters who are almost the same ages of my three sons, so we had lots to talk about. And I quickly ascertained that Shelly was remarkably intentional about how she was raising her daughters. More than anything else, Shelly wanted her kids to be followers of Jesus, and it seemed that all her parenting decisions were made with that in mind. This is what Shelly shares in First Ask Why: the wisdom that she's gained through years of intentionally raising her kids to be disciples of Jesus.

I've known Shelly long enough to know that she's the real deal, and I'm so glad she's written a book to share her parenting wisdom with the world.

I was blessed to receive an advance copy of this book, and I can tell you that it would be an especially good read for parents of kids ages 2-12. But it would also be helpful for parents of kids of any age. It would be a great book for grandparents to read. I'm also thinking that it would make a great baby shower gift!

I don't have to purchase my own copy of the book, so I'm going to buy a copy for one of you. Just comment below or on Instagram or Facebook if you'd like to win a copy. I'll order it and have it sent straight to you. (Bonus: Shelly is donating all the proceeds from the sale of the book to a wonderful organization that is dedicated to helping kids who live in high-risk, inner-city neighborhoods have abundant life.)

You can order the book through Amazon.comBarnes and Noble, or Christian Book Distributors, or ask for it at your local bookseller. (These are NOT affiliate links; I just believe in this book and want to make it easy for you to order.)

Happy reading!

Wednesday, March 29

How to use your phone to be a better parent


In 1991, I had a baby boy. In 1993, I had another baby boy. And in 1997, I had still another baby boy.

Baby boys are my favorite.


Before 1997, I never had a cell phone. But not long after I had that third baby, I had to drive halfway across the country with only my six-year-old, my four-year-old, and my newborn sons for company. After carefully considering the monthly cost, my husband and I decided that I should have a phone with me, just in case of emergency.

I remember that the monthly fee included 30 minutes of talking time. I vowed never to exceed that limit.

Things have changed a bit, haven't they?

Today, I have a cell phone, my husband has a cell phone, and all three sons have cell phones. We do still have a "home phone," but we rarely use it. It's difficult to imagine how we'd get along in the 21st century world without our smart phones.

And yet.


Today is my baby boy's 20th birthday.

Yes, things have changed a bit.

I was proud and excited when my eldest son turned 20. My babies were growing up! Double double digits!

I was a bit more hesitant when my middle son turned 20. Wasn't it all happening a little too quickly?

But today? My BABY is 20 years old? What on earth just happened? And how did it happen so fast?

I know, I know–young mothers don't want to be told to treasure the time with their little ones.

I usually keep my mouth shut, but on this day, there's one thing I wish I could tell my young mom friends. Just one piece of advice: the best way to use your phone.

Use it to take pictures.

At every age, every stage, take pictures of your kids. Print some of them out. You don't have to make show-stopping scrapbooks with them, or even organize them into albums. Just take the pictures, because the years are going to fly by much faster than you think.

And then, after you take those pictures?

Put down your phone.

I'm serious. Put it down. Turn it off if you have to.

One of the best things about having a smartphone, one of these incredible little hand-held computers, is that we have the ability to keep up with the outside world even when we're stuck in one place. What an amazing gift! Yet it comes with a side effect: fear of missing out. "FoMO" even has a dictionary definition now: "anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on a social media website."

The horribly ironic thing about the fear of missing out, of course, is that while we're busy being afraid that we might miss something exciting elsewhere, we actually ARE missing something right in front of us.

No, each event might not be exciting. Some are downright boring. Some are actually best forgotten.

But the events of our real lives and the lives of our loved ones are worth paying attention to. And by the time you scroll through Instagram or check the Facebook status of your friends, they'll have passed.

I'll never claim to be an expert mom. But I have learned one thing in two and a half decades of being a mother:

The days are long, but the years are short.

Put down your phone and enjoy them.

Tuesday, May 17

The spiritual discipline of being a parent


This is a picture of me exactly 25 years ago:


That's me with my two babies: Freckles the Basset hound and the one I hadn't met yet, though I'd carried him for 40 weeks.

Freckles looks disconsolate because I was telling him good-bye before I left for the hospital. And because he's a Basset hound.

That day 25 years ago changed my life. On May 17, 1991, I became a mother.


I'd been a Christian for many years before I had a baby. I was reared in a Christian home, attended a Christian college, married a Christian man. I couldn't imagine a life that didn't revolve around church activities. I loved Jesus and tried very hard to be like Him.

But boy, did I fail.

Oh, I wasn't blatantly sinful. I lived a pretty upright life. I wanted to be more like Jesus. But the Jesus I read about in the Bible was so loving. He welcomed all kinds of people with open arms. Me? I was critical and short-tempered. I wanted to love people freely like that. I tried, I really did--but people drove me crazy! Mercy, Lord, how could I ever learn to put up with, much less love, such irritating people as I encountered every day?

I reckon that when I asked God that question, He said, "Don't worry; I'll show you."


Although I practiced several of them, I'd never heard the term "spiritual discipline" when I became a mom. I remember so well when I first encountered the work of Richard Foster and Dallas Willard. I learned from them that a discipline is an activity within our power--something we can do--which brings us to a point where we can do what at present we cannot do by direct effort.

That made sense to me. I knew people who had disciplined themselves to excellence in a particular pursuit: athletics, music, academics, etc. But I'd never thought about the place of discipline in the spiritual life. One of the biggest aha! moments of my life came when I learned that practices such as study, prayer, and worship are spiritual disciplines. "These disciplines are the main way we offer our bodies up to God as a living sacrifice," Richard writes. "We are doing what we can with our bodies, our minds, our hearts. God then takes this simple offering of ourselves and does with it what we cannot do, producing within us deeply ingrained habits of love and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit."

I'd always wanted to be a different kind of person, the kind of person who loved and appreciated people instead of being irritated by them. I tried. I wanted to change myself, and I was constantly frustrated. No wonder: I was trying to do God's job.

Then I became a parent, and no longer did I have time or energy for trying to change myself. Instead, I submitted to all the little things that a parent does. I fed my baby and changed his diapers and bathed him and read stories and played with toys and picked up toys and cooked meals and washed dishes and taught manners and prayed. Day after day after day.

For 25 years now, I've been doing what I can do, one little thing at a time. Nothing big, just being a parent, depending on God to help me.

But recently I was having a conversation with my kids--not just that one boy born 25 years ago, but now three boys who have become men. We were talking about a difficult person one of them had encountered. I offered a viewpoint to which one of my sons replied, "Your opinion doesn't count, Mom; you love everybody."

Wait--what? Is that true? Me?

I've just been here, plodding along, doing what needs to be done, doing what I can do.

And God's been doing what only God can do: changing my heart. Changing me into someone who is more like Jesus today than she used to be.

That first little baby of mine is now an officer in the U.S. Navy. Just as I'll never forget the day he was born, I'll always remember the day he was commissioned. My heart caught in my throat when I saw an enlisted man salute my son and call him "sir."


My boy has changed an awful lot in 25 years.

And by the grace of God, so has his mom.

Joining these lovely parties: 

Wednesday, November 11

The making of a veteran


Last week I attended one of the most beautiful graduation ceremonies I've ever seen.

Like all graduations, it was a time of great festivity, of grand celebration.

But in a very important way, it wasn't like all graduations.  It was more than a graduation.  It was also a commissioning service.

Last week my oldest son, already a graduate of Duke University, graduated from Officer Candidate School.

He is now an officer of the United States Navy.

My son.  The baby I carried and cared for, the boy I taught to read and write, is not a boy any longer. Along with his classmates, he took this oath of office:

I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

Here are some highlights from the week.

The night before graduation, the candidate officers hosted a reception for their families.


We were proud that our son was asked to read the toast to the POW's and MIA's.


There's always a table set for the POW's and MIA's, who are never forgotten.


Very early on the morning of graduation, families were allowed on base to watch their loved take a victory run.


The day was blustery and foggy and grey in Newport, but my husband and I were so grateful to be there.


One of our younger sons was able to be with us for graduation.  Can you tell he's proud of his brother?


Today is Veterans' Day, a special day that is set aside to honor all the men and women who have served in the armed forces of the United States.  Of course, today is also Armistice Day, the day that the armistice ending World War I was signed, so other countries are remembering their veterans today, as well.

My son is not a veteran yet.  So far he has served only 12 weeks in the United States Navy.  But those 12 weeks have been some of the toughest of his young life.  In the weeks to come, my son will learn to be a Naval Aviator.  After his training is complete, he could serve nearly anywhere in the world--wherever the U.S. Navy sends him.  

No matter the cost to himself or his family, he will fulfill the oath he took last week.

These days it seems to be rather popular to talk about all that's wrong with the United States.  I see many people, especially on social media, scoff at our country.  If those people are U.S. citizens, then our Constitution guarantees them the right to scoff.  

At least on this day, though, I would hope that even the most scornful could understand that the rights they take for granted must be defended.  And that defense doesn't come from clever Twitter posts or irate Facebook rants.

No, it's the men and women who have taken an oath to support and defend the Constitution who will continue to ensure those rights.  People like my son.  May God protect and bless them all.

Wednesday, September 9

Empty nest, full heart


Monday, August 25

The Last First


The first day of school was all about making sure his lunch was packed and that he had the right kind of safety scissors and taking his picture with his big brothers.


And then after loading up the minivan, the first day was all about the drive to school with an excited kindergartner and his 4th and 6th grade brothers.  It was all about letting the big boys go into school from the car pool line, but Mom will park and walk in with him.

The first day was all about Mom's telling him that everything would be okay, that he'd have fun and learn lots of wonderful things.

But that first was 12 years ago.

What?  Wasn't it just a little while ago?  I swear it couldn't have been more than five years ago.

But now the first day is about making sure he has all the forms filled out and his tie is properly tied and a last-minute I-don't-have-time-for-a-picture-where-are-my-keys?


And Mom doesn't even drive to school at all, let alone with a van full of boys.

The first first day was about Mom's comforting the boy.

Now, on the last first day, who comforts the mom?

Somebody hold me, please.

Wednesday, August 13

Pilgrimage to Normandy


Friends, I am so excited to share with you the details of my travels to France!  Many of you followed along as I posted photos on Instagram and Facebook.  I truly appreciate your prayers for our safety and blessing in travel.


To say that we were grateful to make this trip is an enormous understatement.  Visiting Normandy was a lifetime dream of my husband's, so it became my dream as well.  To be in the places where such momentous events of the 20th century took place was, for us, a pilgrimage.



As you know, beginning in 1939, Hitler's forces occupied much of Europe, including France.  The Nazis heartlessly visited their plans for domination of much of the free world upon all who would stand in their way.  Most notorious for their systemic extermination of millions of Jews, the Nazis also killed and enslaved hundreds of thousands of others, all of whom they deemed to be inferior to the "Master Race." Allied with Italy and Japan in a quest to rule the world, Nazi forces had to be stopped.

But stopping a war machine as effective as the Nazis would not come easily.  Allied leaders knew that defeating the Nazis would require an invasion of territory occupied by the Germans.  To be successful, the effort would require huge numbers of troops as well as massive quantities of ammunition and supplies.  Organizing an effort of such scale took many months of planning and the efforts of millions of people, both military and civilian.  Those efforts came to fruition on D-Day, June 6, 1944, when the Allied forces mounted a successful invasion of Nazi-occupied France.  From beachheads established in June 1944, Allied troops were able to push the Nazis back into Germany, liberating thousands of people who had suffered under Nazi rule and culminating with the eventual defeat of the Nazi forces and suicide of Adolf Hitler in the spring of 1945.

But what a cost.  On D-Day, the Allies landed around 156,000 troops in Normandy, including 73,000 Americans.  By June 11, over 325,000 troops had gone ashore in Normandy.  The evil of fascism was defeated at a huge price.  Over 209,000 Allied troops were killed, wounded, or went missing during the Battle of Normandy.

70 years later, we who live in relative peace and prosperity owe much to the generation of men and women who paid dearly for that freedom. For my family, visiting the sites where so many lives were given in the defeat of evil was a deeply spiritual experience. We have so much to be thankful for!

If you're not familiar with the historical events of 1944, I encourage to read about it.  There are many authors who have written about the Battle of Normandy, and many of them are so good.  I particularly recommend the works of Stephen Ambrose and Martin Gilbert.

And now a pictorial review of our time in Normandy!  We took over 700 photos, but I'll share just a few.

First of all, we were amazingly blessed with a wonderful place to stay.  I found the Chateau de Neuilly la Foret online, and after staying there I told my family I felt that I'd won the internets.  In the 11th century, William the Conqueror gave some of the land in the Elle and Aure valleys to his half-brother Odon, Bishop of Bayeux. Odon had a chateau built in the marsh, which became an important fortress during the Hundred Years' War.  Over the centuries, the chateau was used as a country residence for the bishops of the diocese, and it served as a place of refuge for the bishops during times of unrest. Gradually it was used less and less by the bishops until it was finally sold at auction.  Part of the chateau was destroyed at the beginning of the 19th century, but part of it survives to this day--and that was the house I found as a vacation rental.

Be still, my history-loving heart!

From what we'd read online, we knew the house would be special, but our hearts skipped a beat as we drove up the lane.


Oh, my.


Although much of the original chateau has not survived, the remaining house is amazing.



And the grounds?  Well, see for yourself.



Remnants of a stone chapel and barn grace the landscape, just outside a beautiful walled garden.



Above the kitchen sink was what I think of as a "Monet window."  See how thick the walls are?


The view out the window on a foggy morning looks like an impressionist painting:


Here's one of my favorite Instagrams from our trip: a little late-evening snack at the chateau.  We enjoyed flowers from the garden and camembert made right in Normandy.


Just beyond the chateau gardens were pastures of Norman cattle.  No wonder Normandy is known for its butter and cheese--there were dairy cows everywhere!


If you've never rented a vacation place, I suggest you try it!  Sites such as vrbo.com are easy to use; just be sure to read the reviews and ask questions of the owner.  We've had great luck finding wonderful places to stay both in the U.S. and abroad.  Staying in a house or apartment is so much nicer and more budget-friendly than staying in hotels, particularly if you're traveling with a family.
While we weren't relaxing at the chateau, we were driving all over Normandy (northwestern France).   Here are peeks at some of the most notable places we visited.
The American Cemetery at Omaha Beach.  Over 9000 Americans are buried here, laid to rest in the country they gave their lives to liberate.

I never realized this cemetery is right on the hill above the beach--see the English Channel in the background of the photo?

Particularly moving to me was this monument at the American cemetery, a tribute to the citizen soldiers of the U.S. armed forces.  It reads:  "For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace.  They fight not for the lust of conquest: they fight to end conquest.  They fight to liberate. . . . They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home."


Omaha Beach is huge; you can get an idea of the expanse of the beach by seeing me and my boys standing there.  Today it's a peaceful place for French people on holiday.  (Of course, this area is not really named "Omaha Beach"; Utah, Omaha, Juno, Gold, and Sword were the code names assigned to the five D-Day landing sites.  Utah and Omaha were taken by American forces; Juno, by Canadian troops; and Gold and Sword by British forces.  While the landing at Utah Beach went fairly well, Americans suffered terribly heavy casualties at Omaha Beach.)  

Utah Beach is beautiful and serene, but the German bunkers still stand intact today, 70 years after D-Day.
One of the most moving places we visited was Pointe du Hoc, the site of huge German gun emplacements that overlooked both Utah and Omaha Beach.  U.S. Rangers scaled these sheer cliffs with grappling hooks in order to the destroy the guns.  When they reached the top, the guns had been moved, so the Rangers moved inland, located the guns, and put them out of commission.  Their bravery saved countless lives.

Here I am walking around with my three sons, ages 23, 21, and 17.  Had we lived 70 years earlier, my boys might very well have been among those troops who landed on D-Day.  My heart breaks as I think of the agonizing sacrifice of young lives made on these battlefields!


Another of our favorite spots was the village of Sainte Mere Eglise, made famous when many members of the 82nd and 101st Airborne divisions landed here.  As you can see, St. Mary's Church is still standing.

 

The gun batteries of Longues sur Mer were amazing.  Here the gun emplacements stand in excellent shape, having withstood heavy bombardment and 70 years of time gone by.


This photo will give you an idea of the size of those guns:


As you can see, the fortifications of Hitler's Atlantic Wall were intended to withstand heavy assault.  Thank God the Allies were able to prevail against the Nazi forces.

We also really enjoyed the Pegasus Bridge museum, located between Caen and Ouistreham.  This bridge was vital to the invasion plan, and it was captured by a glider-borne unit of British airborne troops in the first few minutes of June 6, 1944.  The bravery of the glider pilots and troops is especially inspiring to me.


We loved the fact that the historical sites are a boon to the local economy.  These folks had to suffer through the devastation of having critical battles take place in their hometowns; how fitting that they would now benefit from having people visit!  All over Normandy we saw signs that read "Welcome to our liberators!" and we were thrilled to see British, Canadian, and U.S. flags flying alongside the French flag.

We enjoyed visiting some other wonderful places in France as well as the battle sites.  Here are a few of our favorites:

Mont St. Michel



(We snapped this photo from the car window, so delighted were we at the sight of the abbey rising from the sea just beyond the farmland.)

Bayeux Cathedral and the Bayeux Tapestry (remember, we were staying in the home of the Bishop of Bayeux)



Hon Fleur



and of course Paris sites such as the Eiffel Tower


the palace at Versailles



and the Arc de Triomphe.


Our trip was filled with fun and laughter, and we are grateful for a lovely vacation.  We are most thankful, though, for the chance to show these boys of ours--boys who have lived primarily with peace rather than war--what a high price has been paid for their freedom.  Having seen firsthand the vestiges of this awful war, I believe they're more deeply committed to peace.  And I think they're more grateful for all that's so easy to take for granted.  I know I am.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, harmony;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

(20th century French prayer, often attributed to St. Francis)

Have you ever made a pilgrimage?  How has the experience shaped you?

I'm joining these lovely parties:
Thought-Provoking Thursday at 3-D Lessons for Life 
Thoughtful Thursday at Eat Sleep Be
Weekend Bloggy Reading at Serenity Now