Category Archives: Reflection

The Things We Leave Behind

Have you ever felt stuck? I have. Last winter was one of those times when I found myself searching for a catalyst. I knew I wanted to make some changes in my life, but I needed a push. The idea of Newton’s first law of motion kept coming to my mind: An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. I felt like I was “at rest” but not in a peaceful way: I felt like I was stuck in a rut and needed a “force” to get me moving again in the right direction.

“I should be eating better, but it is so much more simple to stick with my routines and the meals that I know…”

“I want to get more sleep, but then I get the boys to bed each night and fall right back into the temptations of watching tv or trying to get more done than I can possibly accomplish in one night…”

“I think I’d like to downsize our ‘stuff’ but I don’t know where to begin…”

Sound familiar to you? I hope I’m not alone.

Well, last winter, as I was once again contemplating the appeal and mystery of minimalism; I was reminded of an old song by Michael Card (and yes, I’m sufficiently embarrassed by the confession that I was ‘just thinking’ about a Michael Card song from 1994…) that my sisters and I once sang at a Good Friday service. The song, titled “Things We Leave Behind,” told the story of the original disciples walking away from the lives they had always known to follow Jesus in a radically new life. And it challenged us, as Christians today, to give up the things in our lives that weigh us down us with a simple, repeated chorus challenging us to find freedom in Christ–in the things we leave behind.

“It’s hard to imagine the freedom we find from the things we leave behind.”

The chorus of the song,” It’s hard to imagine the freedom we find from the things we leave behind.” ran through my head over and over. It was the calling card of minimalism: but more. As I reflected on the lyrics to this song, I realized that there is freedom from downsizing and change. But even more importantly, there is freedom in the catalyst behind those changes: in the direction that you are moving and the one you are following.

And as I remembered that Good Friday service from years ago, I found the impetus I had been looking for. Although I grew up in the church, I had never before “given up” anything for lent. But this year would be different: I would embrace lent as a time to “give up” my stagnant holding pattern. I desired a lenten journey that would prepare my heart for Easter and prepare me to experience change and motion in the right direction.

And because the idea was more about “giving up” habits and holding patterns than one specific thing, I decided to hold myself accountable in a simple lenten journal. My journey was simple and, in fact, freeing.

My daily lenten goals were uncomplicated and three-fold: first, I needed to make God a priority in this journey through prayer, Bible reading, reflection. Second, I would strive to do one thing to de-clutter my house each day (clean a kitchen drawer, fill a box of clothes to donate, etc.)–my task did not need to be large, but it did need to be something that went beyond the “normal” daily tasks of housekeeping such as doing the dishes or folding the laundry. And third, I needed to do something to, in essence, de-clutter myself each day. The first week, I drank 8 or more cups of water each day. The second week, I kept that up and managed to get 7 hours of sleep each night (and, yes: sleeping more than 6 hours a night was a MAJOR accomplishment).

As a form of accountability, I made a simple journal to keep track of those things I was changing in our home and in my overall lifestyle each day. And that’s the real reason for this post.

This week, we enter the season of lent again. And, once again, I find myself longing for a time to refocus my direction and to be moved to…move. I desire to find freedom from things left behind. And I’m inviting you to join me. I’m attaching the simple Lenten Journal I created to guide my journey, and I am encouraging you to use it if this idea speaks to you and your heart as well. Make it your own and I pray that you might also find freedom and joy in your journey and in the things you leave behind.

 

EDIT March 17, 2019 to Include:

Lent Calendar 2019

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All the life in between…

The beginning of the school year always feels like a whirlwind. For at least six weeks; beginning in mid-August, there is no way to catch your breath until the first week of October. And then that breath is usually more of a gasp for air than a steady intake of the life-giving stuff. And I LOVE my students and I love what I do and this is not about all the time I don’t have—rather, it is about all the time I don’t want to miss.

As summer comes to an end, I am always filled with a sense that all the fun is coming to an end. And, in a sense, many of the things I love about summer simply can’t continue year-long. Leisurely breakfasts with my boys, spontaneous mid-day trips to the zoo, luxuriously quiet mid-morning trips to the grocery store, and spur of the moment trips to visit a friend need to make way for structures and schedules and school. In our house, two teachers and two little scholars (preschool and first grade) mean school nights are serious and school mornings are no joke! Our summers are luxurious and afford us endless times together as a family—the school year cuts that down to about two hours a day in which we need to eat, do homework, and accomplish  all the other chores and joys of life. I am grateful for our summers and aware of how blessed we are to have them—but I still mourn the loss of my family time each fall.

And every year, I try to remind myself that school starting doesn’t mean our family time needs to end: that following my life’s calling by day doesn’t mean I need to abandon my life’s calling by night.

I am always looking to document the joy in my journey: I am constantly photographing this adventure called life. And last Monday I took a pic of my boys mid a hectic post-school grocery run and thought: “There it is! These are the moments that make our life together ours. We might only have a few hours together as a family today, but these are the hours we’ll remember.” So this past week, I decided to intentionally document proof of my life outside of the school day.  I kept taking a picture a day for perspective—and I found that I had a lot of living and loving to do outside of my work days.


I recognize that I have the luxury of spending my summers and weekends with my family, but I also get to live the exhausted realities of every day life with them as well.

Tuesday’s image, enjoying a popsicle while wrapped in a blanket, made me smile and is not unlike the daily work-life balancing act. It can be a balancing act and a challenge to find enjoyment in the little things (like a popsicle on the porch); especially if the moment comes with logistical challenges (such as wrapping a blanket around you to make the night a bit less autumnal and a bit more reminiscent of summer). But it is worth the work to find that balance. And, often, the challenge isn’t in the work of manipulating logistics but rather it is in the art of perception: in simply acknowledging the joys that are already there and in the moments waiting to be found good.

Small Moments and Big Rocks

Tonight, my boys were wound up and bouncing a bit more than usual. And after I made the, “We need to start getting ready for bed,” announcement, my 4.5 year old wound up even tighter. But then he looked at me with sincere eyes and said, “Mom, I know what will calm me down: The BIG Rock.”

The BIG Rock, as it is formally known at our house; is a sizable rock that sits in the last yard, at the end of our block. It is the agreed upon turn-around-point for boys who are adventuring down the sidewalk on their Big Wheels and scooters, and it has been a favorite stop on family walks since the boys were old enough to ride along in a stroller.

“I think we need to walk to The Big Rock, Mom. That will help me calm down for bed.”

I started to say, “Maybe tomorrow;” but then I caught myself before the words came out. I chose, instead, to embrace this small moment with my little man: to find joy in the not-always-joyous struggle of bedtime.

Me and My Kai Walking

As we began to walk, Kai held my hand and snuggled up to my side. He rambled off a play-by-play of each crack in the sidewalk, each bump he likes to ride over, and nearly infinite knowledge of each spot along the way. As we neared the end of the block, Kai announced proudly: “It’s coming, Mom!”

And when we arrived at The BIG Rock, he jumped up onto the rock with fanfare. He gave me a grin, declaring: “And now I will sit on The BIG Rock. And YOU will take my picture!”

I laughed as I fumbled to pull out my phone and snap a few pics: happy for this moment together. And then, as quickly as he jumped up on the rock, he jumped back down and we walked home hand-in-hand.  And though the moment was brief, it was special.

Kai on Rock Color

The walk home was a little quieter as Kai tried to catch his shadow among the numerous looooooong shadows of the late, summer evening.

And even though he wanted to race me up the sidewalk to our door, he remained amazingly calm once we walked through it. He greeted Patrick with a smile and a snuggle, and he gave us NO arguments as I escorted him up to bed. After a hug and a kiss, he snuggled into his bed, and he was asleep within moments of laying down.

I found myself still grinning about our trip to The BIG Rock for sometime after Kai went to bed, and it made me ponder our small moment with that BIG Rock…

Maybe The BIG Rock has calming powers after all! Or maybe we’d all sleep better if we could stop and find joy in those tiny moments of connection that are often so easy to pass up because we are busy, or because they don’t follow our set schedule for the day.

And so, once again, I find myself challenged to find joy in my journey. I find myself thanking God for these sweet boys who challenge me and inspire me. And as the sweet, quiet moments of tonight give way to the frustrations and challenges that will inevitably find their way back into my day, I challenge myself to find joy in a BIG Rock or a short walk tomorrow. And, just as Kai leaned into me, may I lean into my Heavenly Father’s embrace as I try to find my way there.

Kai on Rock B&W

May we all find joy in a BIG Rock or a short walk; in a chosen moment of joy today!

 

Pancakes and Snuggles

Last night Patrick and I made a list of things we needed to do today. It was a list full of talking to insurance, maintaining bank accounts, making appointments, and running other duty-filled errands. While we started writing out our list, Kai got his own piece of paper and carefully began “listing” all of the things he wanted to do this summer: his “summer plan.”

Kai’s Summer Plan 😍

He carefully listed items out loud before meticulously adding each “idea” to his “plan.” Unlike our list of “have-to’s,” his list was thoughtfully simple and spoke of a three-year-old’s desire for the sweetness of life. He started with seeing dinosaurs at the MN Zoo (an activity he enjoyed a few weeks ago and is anxious to repeat again). Then after some quiet consideration, he excitedly added, “Pancakes at the pancake restaurant!”He carefully set to work adding pancakes to his list while chattering away; describing just how good they would be. I smiled while I listened; smiled at his wildest dreams being fulfilled with a trip to Perkins. If only we could all find so much joy in such simple things!

His list continued for a while, and then he stood up; as though hit with his best inspiration yet, and declared the single word: “Snuggling!”  He even ran over for a quick snuggle before adding it to his list. It was a quality list. And when he got ready for bed, both of our lists were set aside for the adventuring of the following day.

Today we were very productive. Patrick and I managed to cross many items off of our necessary/house-keeping list. And then this evening, Kai reminded us of his list. So we decided to leave the house mid-chores, grabbed a couple of friends, and went out to “the pancake restaurant for pancakes.” The delight was visible on Kai’s face when they brought him his plate, and he ate two or three times what he normally eats at mealtime. We all enjoyed our meals; seasoned with the joy on the small one’s face. 💕

Excited for pancakes! 😋


Today we were productive. Today we took time to enjoy the simple things; like pancakes with sprinkles.

Tomorrow we’ll continue through life’s lists: through the “have-to’s” and the fun stuff too. And I encourage you to do the same. Be productive. Cross things off your list. And remember to enjoy the pancakes and snuggles along the way 💕

April Showers

This morning, I was thoroughly dismayed to see snowflakes floating down from a winter-grey sky. Spring in Minnesota can be trying at best: warm and hopeful one day, cold and unrelenting the next. This week has felt like winter.

This week was my Gramie’s funeral.

This week has been long.

This week has been hard.

This week has felt bleak.

Today, as they do so many times, my boys helped me see past my dismay: to remember the joy that is in the journey. The joy that is in transition; even this looooong transition from winter to summer.

As I scrambled to get our things ready for school/daycare/work, my boys ran out into the yard. My impatience with their disregard for coats or reminders to “wait for me,” vanished as I heard them giggle and squeal in delight.

“Momma! I did it! I did it!” Kai screamed as I caught up to them; “We caught snow on our tongues!!!” 

His grin was both gleeful and lopsided, as his tongue was still sticking out; and he waved frantically at his brother who was also spinning around the front yard with his face to the sky. Their delight made me stop.

And laugh.

And pull out my camera.

Because these are the moments I want to embrace and to remember. 

This morning I thought it was the snow that was to blame for my feelings of dismay, but that isn’t true. The dismay was my own. The snow was easily asking for laughter and delight; it didn’t taunt me, it was not willing me towards angst. On Christmas morning I would have found it beautiful, even magical; so why not today?

Why not every day? There are times in life that aren’t easy. There are weeks like this one when there is time to mourn. Ecclesiastes chapter three tells that there is a time for mourning and a time for laughing. Both have a place. But today the laughter of my boys challenged me to resist getting stuck. To remember that even though I might be anxious to move past winter, I shouldn’t miss the joy that it could still hold for me while it remains here.

To embrace the heart of a child.

And to find the ability, when April brings snow showers, to catch them gleefully on my tongue.

  

Each Day is an Adventure

14 years ago, on the weekend after Thanksgiving,  Patrick took me on a romantic stroll through downtown St. Paul, “To see the Christmas lights.” We had a wonderful time walking through the wintery wonderland that is Rice Park in November, we sat and admired the towering Christmas tree and marveled at the gorgeous Landmark Center, and we ended our evening under the twinkling lights of the Riverfront Park.

And then he proposed.

And I said, “Yes.”

Last night, after a particularly hectic outing to Target with two toddlers in tow, the boys warmed our frazzled hearts with their very audible admiration of each set of Christmas lights that we passed along the way. The lights that adorned homes, yards, and businesses brought cheers and applause from the backseat as we journeyed home.

And then, rather than head home, we drove downtown as a family.  We admired those same lights that Patrick and I had admired 14 years ago this weekend, and the boys marveled at the, “Biggest Christmas tree in the entire world.”

Photo Nov 27, 8 24 44 PM

The “Biggest Christmas Tree in the Entire World.” ❤

We all enjoyed the beauty of the drive, and a “tricky” family outing turned into a sweet memory.

And, just as I am every day, I was so grateful and glad that 14 years ago, Patrick proposed; and I said, “Yes.”

Not everyday feels like a romantic stroll through a wintery wonderland, but each day is an adventure.

And I’m grateful to have someone by my side who helps me look for joy in this journey of ours; even in “ordinary” times. Someone who reminds me, when I become overwhelmed by the anxieties of life, to trust God with all my heart and to not rely on my own understandings (Proverbs 3:5,6). Someone who has learned alongside me that our best-laid plans are often usurped by God’s plans–and that His plans are better than our own. Someone who views our home as a place that we have been blessed with; a place that we should in turn use to bless others whenever we can. And someone who extends grace to me time and time again; inspiring me to extend grace to others as well.

Thanksgiving is a time to remember all you have to be thankful for. Today I’m grateful for a husband who journeys with me, looking for joy, “In good times and the bad.”

May this season also inspire you to be thankful, to extend grace, and to find joy in your journey. ❤

But the greatest of these…

Kai is my snuggle bug. He is quick with a hug, a squeeze, a kiss on the cheek. So when I put him to bed tonight, I offered to snuggle next to him for a few minutes. He has a number of blankets and “fluffy toys” that he gets “cozy” with each night. But tonight, after a few minutes with his cozy friends, he emerged from him nest and climbed up on top of me: enveloping me in a 2-year-old sized bear hug, a snuggle, and a mumbled, “Love you so much.”

My heart. ❤️

He laid there for a few minutes with his head on my chest; his arms and legs wrapped around me. And just as I was about to transfer him back to his nest, he picked up his head and whispered, “Momma, you’re the best girl ever,” before nuzzling back in and kissing my neck.

As he burrowed back into his cozy little nest of blankets and “fluffy” friends, I thought my heart might burst. And I found myself trying to mentally “capture” the moment. I thought about all the ways my boys bring joy to my journey: to our everyday adventures. And then I was reminded of 1 Corinthians 13:13 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” And, please don’t fault me for over simplifying the significance of this passage, but in that moment I felt the greatness of love.

Love

One of my little man’s go-to phrases these days has been, “But, Momma, I just need…YOU!”

And love brings joy to the journey. I know this because a few months ago, my littlest man WOULDN’T GO TO SLEEP. I was nearly ready to cry from exhaustion and frustration, and so I determined I would put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, and stick him in bed next to me. However, Kai, had no intentions of letting me out of his sight. As he followed me into the bathroom, I felt my frustration rise. But then my frustration melted away as I heard his plea: “Momma, I watch you brush your teeth?” and saw those sweet little eyes looking up at me. How can frustration win in the face of such adoration: such love? So instead of going to bed cranky, I went to bed feeling love; finding joy in my journey again.

Being a parent is exhausting. Most of the time, I’m pretty sure being a human is exhausting. 😉 But I believe that holding on to love, and leaning on the One who gives us the gift of perfect love, helps us to find joy in our journey again: even if we are searching through blurry, sleep-deprived eyes.

Laundry Mountains and Joy in the Journey

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Mount Laundry

Somedays I feel like I am engaged in a never-ending battle with laundry. As I looked at my kitchen table this morning, covered with piles upon piles of clothing; I may or may not have silently compared it to an insurmountable mountain.

Don’t misunderstand: I was grateful that my family has ample clothing to wear and that I was looking at clean laundry instead of piles of dirty. And folding laundry always makes my heart swell with gratitude, pride, and love for the little people and loving husband that fill the very clothes I am engaged in battle with. However, most days I have a hard time appreciating those seemingly-infinite piles.

My guys have been sick this week and sleep has been rare, but this morning I found myself up early enjoying the quiet; stacking mound upon mound of laundry.  Once the boys were up, I abandoned the piles and got busy with cuddles, juice cups, and breakfast.  I shooed them away from the table once or twice in fear that my piles might come tumbling down, but toddlers are persistent to a fault and they found their way back there when I was was not looking.  And then, just as they so often do, they challenged my perspective. They might not appreciate the fact that I do laundry so that they have clean clothes to wear, but today they appreciated my insurmountable mountain.  Except where I saw a battle, they saw adventure: an opportunity to explore.

“Look, Kai!  Look at the city…” I heard Keilan whisper in an awe-filled voice.

“Wow.” Kai murmured in response.

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Looked like a pile of pajamas to me, but my guys saw it as a breathtaking skyscraper. ❤

And then they stood for a number of mesmerized moments admiring those beautiful towers and the “roads” between them.

“Kai! Whoa! Look at THAT tower!”

“Keilan! Look!  Look at that path!”

I still shooed them away before any of those towers came tumbling down, but I did it with a smile and with a newfound joy in today’s journey.

Love those boys.

Love how they challenge my perspective.

Love how they help me appreciate the journey even when I get caught up in the challenges and doldrums.  And I love how they help me find joy in this journey of life and love that we’re on.

 

"LOOK! Kai, look at the city!"

Confession: these laundry piles lasted on the table for more than just an hour or two. But we didn’t let our laundry mountain get in the way of our lunch. These boys LOVED their picnic amidst the laundry city 😉

A Change in Perspective: a Discovery of Joy

When I first began this blog, I wrote about how speed bumps make me smile: and they still do. Finding joy in the everyday adventures of life often requires trying on a new perspective. Just as my brother taught me to see the joy that can be found in life’s speed bumps, my little boys challenge my perceptions of the world each day.

A few days ago, we were just blocks from home when we were forced to stop at a railroad crossing as a train slowly approached the crossing. Patrick muttered a groan of disapproval, I silently bemoaned the inconvenience, and then we heard stirring in the backseat of the van. The boys were just waking up, and I smiled at the sound as I anticipated what their reactions might be. Although my nearly-four-year-old is often slow to wake up, he became alert quickly as he realized why we had stopped.

“Dad, why did we stop?”

“Because there is a train coming, Kei.”

“Oh. Dad, there is a train?”

“Yes, Keilan.”

“Oh, thanks, Dad!”

I saw the irritation melt from Patrick’s face and felt mine lift as well; as we fell deep into a family discussion regarding the color of the engines, what each freight car might possibly be transporting, and even the parade of graffiti that consequently marched before our eyes. One of the freight cars had a picture of a Smurf spray-painted across its side, and Keilan cried out, “Dad! Look a SNURF!!!” knowing that the Smurfs had been a childhood favorite of Patrick’s. His sweet mispronunciation added to the joy of the moment as his brother eagerly pointed out, “A bird!” on the following car.

I treasured the joy of that moment as a reminder that even though sitting at a railroad crossing generally feels inconvenient at best and infuriating at worst, a simple shift in perspective can change all of that. In that moment, our perspective changed. We were no longer just counting the minutes until the train would be past; we were enjoying every minute of the show.

As the final freight car disappeared out of sight, and the crossing arms began to rise, I committed that moment to memory. That moment was a challenge to face life’s delays with a new perspective. That moment was joy.

These two bring such great perspective: and so much joy <3

These two bring such great perspective…and so much joy ❤

Joy in Exhaustion

I have two toddlers. I teach kindergarten. Being a mother and a teacher represent things about myself that I am immensely proud to call mine.  They represent challenges and accomplishments. They represent stress, sleep loss, and joy.

Just this morning, I was thinking about how I had not posted anything here in a long time. I had also briefly reflected on why: was I unable to find joy in my journey or just unable to find the time or energy to document it?  I think the honest answer is that both might be true.  My life is not without joy; however, there is also worry, dirty laundry, frustration, potty training, and exhaustion that sometimes derail me from finding (and documenting) joy in my everyday adventures.

So, that was what I was thinking about this morning. And along with those reflections, I may have said a quick prayer, silently vowing to “find” some joy today.  Then the day got rolling: the living room needed vacuuming, arguing brothers needed mediating, lunch needed making, and pretty soon the boys needed to wind down for nap-time.  Though Keilan is out-growing naps, his almost-four-year-old self still benefits from a little quiet rest-time each day.  I brought the boys upstairs, but they were not in the mood for rest–and I was not in the mood for convincing them to be. So I went downstairs, hoping that they would magically fall asleep.  Instead, Patrick volunteered to go upstairs and rest with them while I ate my lunch.  I enjoyed a few peaceful moments by myself, and then I decided that I should go check on the boys.

Caught!

Caught!

When I cracked open the bedroom door, I saw Kai asleep in his crib and Patrick sound asleep in Keilan’s bed; while Keilan played with his toys beside him.  Though I might have been just a little bit irritated at Patrick’s “help,” I had to stifle a smile.  After all, he is just as exhausted as I am, and Keilan’s “I just got caught face” was too adorable.  So I decided that rather than fight about nap-time or tell Patrick to wake up, I whispered for Keilan to join me downstairs.  I told him that he didn’t need to worry about nap-time but that he still needed to rest. I told him that I wanted to rest too so I was going to put on a movie and we were going to rest together.  Much to my surprise, my little man who is growing bigger and more independent each day, curled up next to me on the couch, and pretty soon he was sound asleep laying on my chest.  And there it was: joy.  Joy in precious snuggly moments: joy in being his mom. Joy that I would have missed if I had been cranky about nap-time not going the way I had planned.  And the best part? I was totally and completely trapped under my sleeping toddler. I couldn’t move without waking him up: I was unable to change loads of laundry, work on lesson plans for school, pick up the toy room, or do the lunch dishes.  There was my answer to prayer: I had “found” the joy I was looking for and the exhaustion that so easily derails it had been addressed too. I was “forced” to take a nap; under the weight of a sweet, sleepy toddler.

I can’t promise that my posts will be more frequent because of this incident; but there was reason to celebrate joy in my journey today.  And today joy was found in a moment that might not have happened if everything had gone according to my schedule; so it was also a reminder to enjoy the journey: to find joy, even in the unplanned adventures of each day.

Joyful Snuggles