Passion

This post is kinda long, so please persevere with me.


Okay, here goes...  

I started running (and I use that word VERY loosely) about six or seven years ago.  I lose track, so I'm not positive.  I'd never run in my life, other than to get away from something I was afraid of, but I was feeling a need to make some changes to take care of myself and to be consistent with it.  For the price of a good pair of running shoes, I could be ready to go and running seemed like it could work around our crazy-life schedule.  


When I started, it looked like this:  run a block, walk a block, run a block, walk a block.  Then, run two, walk one...you get the picture.  It was ugly, but I persevered and after three or four months, I actually began to enjoy it.  It has helped me in a multitude of ways.  Among other things, I've lost weight, I feel much healthier, it deals with the stress in my life better than any meds I could be taking,  I've met some great people that also enjoy this love of running, and I've learned that I'm capable of WAY more than I ever thought I was.

Last Fall I completed my first Half Marathon (details here).  Something I never thought I would be able to do, but with much work, support from friends and family, and more taking care of myself, it was done. :)  


Since this love of running began, I have looked with amazement at people that accomplished Triathlons, or Marathons and could not imagine even attempting it...


But now I have to imagine it.  Beginning July 1, I'm going to begin training for my first Marathon.  26.2 miles. Freakish.  I have a few friends in The Valley that are also going to work toward the same goal and I think I'm getting really excited about it.  I'm trying to be realistic, train slowly and wisely, listen to my nearly 49- year-old body, but I really want to do this thing, if God will hold all these old parts together for it.


Okay - little bit of gapping now... (hang in there, we're almost done!)


I started this blog a little over a year ago and my first post (here) was, among other things, about my desire to contribute to making a difference in the lives of those enslaved around the world, in our country, in our state. I have struggled with how that looks living in a rural area, somewhat removed from where most of the volunteer activity takes place, working part time, homeschooling, parenting, very involved in our local faith community, being a support to my pastor/firefighter husband, etc.  I still don't have very clear answers in this regard, but I do feel like God is beginning to bring at least a little clarity - a first step, maybe.


I'd like to combine these two passions, and drag you along with me. :)  


A couple of nights ago, I added up how many miles I will run throughout the course of this 20-week training, culminating with the marathon in November.  If I do everything they suggest, I will run between 420 and 430 miles over the course of those 20 weeks.  Figuring that up may have been a mistake.  I lost the ability to breath for just a few minutes afterward.  Here's where you come in...


I'd like to ask you to join me, prayerfully and financially, in combining these two passions.  I've spoken with the director of OATH (Read about 'em here) about how this idea can work.  He is developing a webpage where you can donate toward my training miles.  So, for example, you could donate $.10, (or $10.00!) for every mile that I fulfill during this 20-week training.  If you donated $.10, then at the completion of my marathon, you would donate approximately $42.00 to OATH.  The mornings I don't drag my butt out of bed and train, you would donate nothing.  The mornings I do, you would.  

While the training and marathon mean a great deal to me personally, I would like the time I spend training and running to mean something for others.  This would make it mean so much more!  The mornings I don’t want to get up and train, I can think about the girls that will be helped at the end of this through the money donated – that will get me out of bed when nothing else will. 

So be watching - in the next week or so, I'll post a link where you can join me in this journey.

Pouring Jesus

A few things I don't like about some churches and their youth groups (brace yourself, I'm likely to offend some with this) -

I don't like that parents are excluded - made to feel like they need to just drop their kids off and leave them alone to do their job.  Or that parents drop their kids off and expect the youth workers to fix what was already broken when they dropped them off there.  Or that parents drop them off because they are tired of how hard teenagers are and want someone else to do the hard work of raising their kids.  Or that it is all about fun and games and not much about ministry and service.  Or that the kids are isolated from the rest of the Body and once they're grown, they have no idea how to be a part of the Body and so they end up leaving the Church.

A few things I love about some churches and their youth groups -

Parents are encouraged to be involved in every aspect of their kids' lives.  Everyone jumps in to invest in the lives of the broken and show them the way to God's healing.  Parents allow others to step in and invest in the lives of their kids where they are unable to do so.  The Church teaches kids that fun and service often go hand-in-hand (and when it's not fun, it's still good and it's even better when we do it together),  kids and adults work side-by-side in every aspect of Body life, so when the kids are grown, they just keep doing what they've always done.

When I was younger, and knew everything, my view of youth groups was almost exclusively of the first description I gave.  It was unfair, filled with pride (on my part), but honestly, sometimes true.  I've seen those groups and I never wanted my kids to be part of that.  I came very close to "throwing the baby out with the bath water" and writing off all youth groups.

Then I had teenagers.  And  realized I knew nothing.  I saw they had needs that I was unable to meet.  Either out a lack of the right gifts, or they were unwilling to listen to me at the time, or I was too close to the situation, or ignorance on my part, or God just had someone else in mind for that particular issue.  And God brought people that could meet me where I was - could meet my kids where they were.  I am so grateful.

Luke and I went to visit at Super Summer last night.  Super Summer is a youth leadership camp that my kids have gone to through their junior high and high school years, and Brian and Dylan are there this week.  It brought lots of memories back for me as they've come back over the years and shared what they learned - as I've watched them incorporate it into their lives.

Last week Brian and Dylan worked at Summit Camp.  A camp my kids have gone to every year of their teenage lives, and now Dylan staffs a week as well as attending.  My kids are better for this.  They love Jesus more.  They know how to work harder, serve better, love deeper.

(Dylan - pouring out Jesus)

Every year, we go on mission trips with families we've known for 20+ years and we work harder than we've ever worked, have more fun than we've ever had, and pour Jesus into people - because of the faithfulness of a couple we met over 20 years ago to keep teaching with their lives, and pouring into the lives of countless teenagers, that faith without works is dead.

Every week for the last nine years, people have come alongside Brian and I, and have invested in the lives of my teenagers and I will be forever grateful.

As I was running this morning, names kept running  through my head  - names of people that have poured Jesus into my kids - and I thanked God for each of them.  Some of them entered my kids' lives early on and have never left, some have been for a season, but left impressions that will last forever.  In ways we could not have done alone.

I think this is why God left us all the "one another"s in scripture.  He knew we were going to need each other.  He knew we'd be tempted to think we could do it alone and we'd need to be reminded that we can't.

So to each of you that have poured Jesus into our kids ---

Their lives are better for having you in it.

Thank you.

Still Trying To Get It Right

"Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom."

James - half brother of Jesus - said that.  


I'm studying James right now with a small group of women.  It's always a killer for me - James is, but God just keeps bringing me back to it.  Apparently He has some things for me to learn - and it's taking me a while to get it down.


In our study this week, I read a quote that was a little (and by "a little", I mean "a lot") convicting.  And not wanting you to feel left out, I'm gonna share it.


The Greek word, in the original language of the book of James, for humility means "the quality of not being overly impressed by a sense of one's self-importance".  


Ouch.


Here's the quote:


"In my woundedness and in my flesh, I delude myself into thinking that harshness and severity are worth it if another person is fortunate enough to gain my superior perspective.  


Wrong.  


The gentleness that is linked to wisdom in this context means living out of the knowledge that I am not the priority here."


This is a particularly hard word for me.  My personality is prone to telling you a couple of times, with kindness and gentleness, how things should be.  And then if you're not smart enough to see it my way after that, I lose patience.  I lose mercy.  I lose humility.


And God gently, with mercy, keeps reminding me - it's not about me.  


And even more than that - I am not always right.  I always think I'm right.  We all do.  If we knew we were wrong, we'd change, right?


I'm learning - slowly, and sometimes with much faltering, that I need to be quiet more often.  And when I do feel prompted to speak, to speak gently, with humility, with love.  And if they don't change, if they won't see things my way, I can still speak gently, with humility, with love.  Because it's not about me.  


It's about God.  Change in any of us is between Him and the individual in need of change.  


So, I can let it go.


I'm not God - and aren't we all very, very, happy about that?  

Remember to Not Forget

I have a friend that chides me for telling my kids, "Don't forget...such-and-so."  She says I should use the positive statement - "Remember...such-and-so."  That speaking in the positive will encourage them and make them more likely to actually remember.  I see her point, and I do try to do that often, but as I read Deuteronomy, I see God using both with great frequency.  


"Remember" and "Do not forget".  


God says this over, and over, and over again throughout the book.  Remember - do not forget. 


Why do you think that is?


I think it's because we are prone to forgetting - prone to not remember.  And because God values remembering.  Not forgetting what He's done for us - what He's brought us through - where He's taking us - the blessings He's given - the disasters He has either saved us from, or helped us through.  He wants us to remember.

The engagement and wedding of our daughter to the only man she's ever loved has been an emotional roller coaster ride for me.  I think because, in part, it has caused me to remember.  To not forget...


When they are babies and we aren't sleeping, we are prone to forget that we are called to this ministry of parenting.


When they are in their terrible twos and only-precious-when-they-sleep threes, we do not remember that what we pour into them matters.


When they are 8 and 9 and the weirdest little creatures to grace the planet, we forget that they have a calling and we are helping to shape that calling.


When they are 11 and 12 and independence is beginning to assert itself, we do not remember that God loves us (while still disciplining) through our own tantrums and we need to model that for them.


When they are 15 and 16, we forget everything -- just everything.


But every once in a while, God blesses us with milestones.  Birthdays, father-daughter dances, graduations, recitals, simple graces (like watching a 3-year-old sleep), great successes, (or sometimes, colossal failures), celebrations.  He slows us down and reminds us of what matters.  This engagement and wedding has been that for me.  


Going through the process of engagement and wedding planning with Erin and Jeff has had a profound impact on me, bringing so many things into perspective.  Watching the two of them beginning to make grown up decisions:  planning their future, marriage counseling, financial planning, work choices, finding a home, and the list goes on and on.  I've been so proud of them.  

Obviously we've know Erin her whole life, and we've known Jeff since he was 13 years old.  We've watched them together from goofy teenagers, to young adults, to now, married.  The journey has been at times trying and frustrating, we've all had joy and tears along the way  There were times that we forgot - we did not remember God's purposes in this journey.  Other times, He would remind us, and we would continue on.  It's been a good journey.

The thing I've thought on over and over, as we've been planning, is how many people are truly a part of who they are today - so many people that God placed in our lives to shape us - to shape them.  


There were a lot of people at the wedding celebration.  I was just in awe as I walked through the groups of people - stopping to hug, love, and visit with people that came to celebrate with us.  People that influenced their childhood - babysitting, loving, playing.  People that influenced their adolescence - teaching, praying, friendships.  People that influenced their teen years - mentors, friends, teachers.  People that influenced them indirectly by investing in the lives of Brian and I, of Jim and Mindy, to help us in being better parents, better teachers, better people.  So many memories, so much impact, so much love.  We are not in this game alone. 

It was truly humbling to me.  As I looked into so many faces and thought about the impact they had in the lives of our children - their part in the journey to where they stand today - I was humbled at how big our God is and how many He uses to work out His plan.  

The friends that stepped up to help us make this a fairy tale wedding for our princess and her prince have been amazing.  They planned, created, held accountable, glued, cut, hung, stitched, loaned, gave,  prayed, laughed, cried, cooked, served, sang, spoke, took pictures, fixed hair, ironed table cloths, carried chairs and tables, they stood up with Erin and kept her laughing through the stressful moments, stood up with Jeff (and did whatever boys do - I'm not exactly sure what that is...), got up early, stayed up late.  They gave their talents, their skills, their time, their love.  We weren't changing the world - we weren't changing history, exactly.  But we were stopping to celebrate - to remember.


 It appears to me that celebrations were important in scripture - God called His people to times of great celebration - and these people, these friends, wanted to help create a day to celebrate what God had done and it was beautiful.  They went far and above the call of duty - the call of friendship.  They were - they are - family.  

And I am grateful.  I am blessed.  

.

I'm a Little Teapot

"I'm a little teapot, 

short and stout,
here is my handle,
here is my spout.


When I get all steamed up,
here me shout.
Just tip me over,
and pour me out."

Here's just some of what's pouring out right now:

All my kids are home.

1. Content.  I love that we are all sleeping under the same roof again for at least this one week.  Luke is home for the summer.  Erin has moved out of her Ada house and is staying here until the wedding.  So for one glorious week, I have all my little chicks home again.

2.  Exhausted.  In #1, I mentioned "sleeping under the same roof".  I have to use this term loosely.  Teenagers and young adults, especially when all together for the first time in a while, do not sleep much.  The noise level is much higher; the boys pick on their sister as if it is their last day alive and their last chance to do so; and they tend to throw themselves over the foot of my bed just about the time I'm fading from consciousness and want to talk about their days.  This is not a complaint - I love all of this - but I'm old - and exhausted. :)

My daughter is getting married Saturday.

3.  Thrilled.  We love our daughter.  We love this young man.    We are excited to celebrate with them and create a day they will hopefully remember with joy for the rest of their lives.

4.  Overwhelmed.  I'm not a planner.  I'm not creative.  I'm not a people-person.  All of these things are helpful when planning a party for 200+ people.  So -- I'm overwhelmed.

5.  Melancholy.  Everything changes after Saturday.  I know it's a good change.  I'm watching my baby girl morph into a wife and it's a little freaky.   I know I'll adapt and love all of it.  But change brings out the melancholy in this girl.

6.  Grateful.  So many have come alongside me to help me through this season.  I cannot say enough and will likely devote a post to them at some point when I have more time to process.  But for now, I am forever grateful for good friends.  Friends that are planners, creative, energy-filled, encouraging.  -- Everything that I am not, and all that I need right now.

I'm sure there's more, but the little steam-whistle on my "to-do-list teapot" is screaming at me, so I'm off.

One Month From Today

Look at them...

Aren't they the cutest couple you've ever seen?

One month from today,  this young lady - my daughter - my baby - my first born - will change her name and become Mrs. Erin Cawthon.  One month from today, this young man will become our newest son.  I am thrilled for this day to come.  We have all waited a long time for it and can't wait to celebrate with them.  But...

Wow.  It's so weird.  They're grown!  We knew it was coming, but it's HERE!  

There's lots to do in preparation for this day of celebration and I could not feel  more inadequate to the task.  

Thankfully, I have amazing friends that surround me and keep me on task.  But that is not stopping the mini-panic attacks...  I think of all the tiny details:  food, chairs, music, decorations, clothes, flowers, table cloths, candles,...  Maybe I need to assign one of them to just making sure I don't completely lose focus on what's important here. 

                           A celebration of this beautiful thing God has done!  

A Dangerous Game

I may never hit publish on this one, but I'm needing to process some thoughts - so here goes... (and obviously, I did hit publish, so really, here goes...)

If you've read many of my blogs at all, you know that I've struggled greatly with letting go of my illusions of control over my children as they are growing up.  Well, I still am, so I won't go into that much - you can read previous posts to refresh yourself in that regard.

I'm not even sure how to express what I'm thinking right now, so it will likely sound pretty jumbled and will likely offend some of you.

I love my kids - I even like my kids most of the time and that makes me really happy.  I haven't always liked them.  We have definitely gone through seasons of raging hormones, teenage I-know-everything syndrome, blah, blah, blah, where, even though I've always, always loved them,  it was a chore to like them.  But now?  Right now, I really like them.

Our family lives in kind of a weird vortex of conflicting opinions - I'm sure everyone does, and I'd love to hear yours, but here's ours:

We have always homeschooled our children.  From day one, all the way through high school.  We come from a VERY conservative background, in all respects.  In our children's younger years, we pretty well surrounded ourselves with people just like us, so it was easy to be very judgmental of anyone that did/ believed differently that we did.  God has made our world a little bigger in the last ten or so years, and I've had to reflect on, and regret, a lot of that judgment and criticism.  I've also gotten the pleasure of being on the receiving end of some of it too. :)

What I've found most interesting is, after you've moved to center, you catch it from both sides. -- You're too strict; you're too permissive.  You're too sheltering; you're letting too much of the world in.  You're letting them read that?!;  You're not letting them read that?!  You're letting them date?!; You're not letting them date?!  It's maddening.  I've learned to let much of it roll right off, but there have been times that I really just wanted to punch somebody.

But, I think the most frustrating part of getting to the age where I, and my peers, have grown and semi-grown children, is the comparison game we begin to play at this stage of  "how they turned out".  I get caught up in this myself - have caught myself playing, with the best of intentions, this misguided game.  If they make all the right decisions, do exactly what we wanted them to do when we were writing their futures at six and seven years old, then we've been great parents.  If they make some poor decisions (or even decisions that we just don't particularly prefer), some down-right stupid choices, or God forbid, walk away from our faith for a season, then we were awful parents.  This is maddening.

At this point in time, I'm not freaked about most of my kids choices.  I'm sure some people are freaked about some of them, because they measure differently than I do, but I'm not.  So obviously, we're great parents, right?

I have friends who are struggling, really struggling right now.  They have kids making some poor decisions, down-right stupid choices.  So obviously they're bad parents, right?

Wrong.

I've walked right next to some of these people as they've raised their children.  I know their hearts.  I know what they've poured in.  Some, I haven't.  Some I've only known a short time.  But I know they love their kids more than life itself.  I know their hearts are broken.  I know they love and follow Jesus.  I know they did and are doing the best job they know to do.

We all make mistakes, so if our kids turn out reasonably well adjusted, praise God that He was bigger than our stupid mistakes.  And if they make some stupid choices along the way, praise God that He is big enough to redeem it - just as He did for us and our stupid choices along the way.

This in no way excuses us from doing our best as parents - from pursuing God with all our hearts and teaching our children to do the same.  But it should release us from the never-ending, craze-inducing burden of feeling like we are in control of everything - that all the answers and good outcomes are up to us.

My kids were born in the image and likeness of our great God, just as I was.  They were born with a wretched, sinful nature, just like I was.  They have a God-given free will, just as I do.  They will make some great choices - they will make some really bad choices, just as I did, and still do.

God is big enough to handle this.

I'd love for us to stop judging one another's performance as parents, and love one another.  Rejoice with each other when great things are happening.  Surround with love and support when not-so-great things are happening (instead of judgment, and secret, "well, I knew that was coming" discussions around our dinner tables).  Let's stop judging every decision others make along the way.  It may not be the decision we would make, but we're not walking in their shoes, so we don't really know what we'd do in their situation.

Judge a little less.  Love a little more.  Lighten up.