10 years ago today, we said “I do.” We had no idea what we were committing to, or where that promise would take us. We had already faced our share of struggle, but felt that we had come out on top. We thought we knew what it meant to forgive. We thought we knew what it meant to fight for each other. We thought we were prepared to confront whatever challenges we would face…together.

10 years ago today, we promised to love, honor, and cherish. We vowed to prefer each other; to care for each other; to respect each other. We declared before God and everyone present that we were committed to seeing it through. For better, for worse…we chose each other.

10 years ago today, we were full of dreams and ideas for the future. We had plans of travel and a beautiful home. Country living, and a couple of kids. We had good jobs, great friends, loving family. Life was good to us.

But we were not always good to each other….

10 years ago today, we were two individuals. We were separate entities, promising togetherness but fighting only for our own selves. We quickly forgot the vows that we made to love, honor, and cherish. We forgot how to prefer, care for, and respect one another. When better became worse, we each chose ourselves.

10 years ago today, we had no real idea what it meant to commit. To lay down our own lives for another. We didn’t know how to face a struggle together; and too often chose fighting over forgiveness. We didn’t know how to see past our own selfishness.  It almost destroyed us.

But thank God, that wasn’t the end of our story….

These past 10 years have brought so much to our lives. I barely recognize the kids we were, when we said “I do”. We have experienced great highs, and devastating lows. We know too well the heart break of loss. We have equally cherished the joys of new beginnings. We have uncovered secrets. We have battled many demons. We have threatened to walk away. In the end…by the grace of God, we have chosen each other all over again.

These past 10 years have taught us how to love. As importantly, they have taught us how to receive love. We have learned to walk in honesty with one another. We have learned to forgive when we hurt each other. We have learned to root for one another.  We have learned to speak respectfully to each other, even when we don’t feel those words are deserved.

These past 10 years have a brought a fulfillment of our dreams, and the birth of new dreams we never knew we had. Today, we dream of facing each day as one…no longer individuals battling for our own way. We dream of raising children who know how to live with integrity and love without fear. We dream of making a difference in the lives of those around us; by loving each other well, putting God first in everything, and praying those choices spill over into all that we do.  

Thank you, for the past 10 years. I love you more everyday. 

 

Recently, my husband and I made the decision to drastically reduce the amount of “screen time” that was occurring in our home.  Amongst other reasons, we didn’t like the patterns of behavior that we were seeing in our kids.  On a typical day, the kids would wake up, and each watch videos on their own tablet while they ate breakfast.  I would yell at them to eat, and they would barely respond as they were absorbed in whatever they were viewing.  On the way to school, they would sometimes watch a preloaded Netflix episode on my phone. After school, they would come home and play while I made dinner. After dinner and baths they were allowed videos again until bed. When we went to restaurants, they would play games on our phones.  If we attended an event at church, they would be allowed videos…etc., etc.

One day, about 3 weeks ago I took the tablets, and put them on the shelves where they have sat, untouched.  Simultaneously, I deleted a few Social Media apps from my phone, so I didn’t have instant access to the ways that I liked to zone out and disconnect from personal relationships as well.  I expected this to be a hard process, but I have to tell you…so far, I love what I am seeing.

My son has not once asked me for his tablet.  He is reading more, playing games with his sister, asking to go outside.  My daughter has rediscovered her love for coloring, drawing, and all things play-doh.  This morning, I walked out of the kitchen to see them both drawing and laughing with one another.  My son was teaching my daughter how to write some words. 

When we go to a restaurant, they draw pictures or – miracle of miracles, we have a family conversation!  The other night, we went out to eat, and I couldn’t help but notice the family seated near us.  Every person at that table spent much of their time looking at their own phones and shared little conversation, or even glances at one another.  I watched them; not judgmentally but, rather with sadness.  Three weeks ago, that was us at a restaurant.  I told myself that I would never be a parent who uses electronics to appease my kids in order to make my life easier…but that is exactly who I have become.  

I told myself that my husband and I were justified in allowing some relaxed screen time because, we both work full-time jobs.  Although, not physically demanding work, I come home each day tired, and I still have to make dinner and clean-up, etc.  It doesn’t hurt to let them watch a few more videos, so that I can have a quiet evening and not have to entertain them. The truth is, being a parent is my first and most important full-time job.  If anything needs to take a backseat, it shouldn’t be the quality time that I spend with my kids. My children need me…all of me. They don’t need the things that I can buy them, or the mostly distracted responses that I give them because I’m too busy expending myself elsewhere.  They need my attention.  They need to see me prioritize my time with them and their father.  They need to know that they are what’s important.

Over the course of the past few weeks, we have rediscovered what it means to be a family. I have realized that; as frustrated as I was with my kids constantly wanting their face in a screen; they were just as frustrated with me and my obsession with it. Let’s be real; they still watch t.v. But more often than not these days, I am playing catch with son in the backyard. I am watching my daughter ride her scooter and chase frogs. We are laughing together and playing family games on the living room floor. We are looking into each other’s eyes, having conversations, listening to each other….and loving every minute of it.

One of the hardest parts of parenting that I have encountered, is properly conveying the love of God in the midst of a fallen world.  All, while trying to describe the complexity of it in 4 year old language.  

Sometimes, on our daily commute, my kids like to look over the photos in my phone.  They reminisce about trips that we have taken.  They laugh at each other’s potty training photos.  They ask about the details surrounding pictures they have forgotten.  Sometimes…these light-hearted conversations take a more serious turn.  On this occasion, my daughter was looking through photos, and came across a picture of a sweet girl who now lives in heaven.  In the course of our conversation and how I came to have this picture, my daughter asked me “Mom, why didn’t God fix her, if she was born sick?” 

Oh, my Girl. I wanted to say- “I wish we didn’t have to have conversations like this.  I wish that death were not a part of your experience, and that disease and defect were not terms you needed to understand.  I wish that life would always be good to you.  I wish that you didn’t have to question death, and that we didn’t have to pray for friends and family who were ill. I wish I didn’t have to remind you about what happened to those we have lost, when you ask me again why we can no longer visit them. I wish that we could always look back on pictures and only laugh and smile.  I wish that some pictures didn’t arouse sadness and difficult conversations. I wish I could shield you from so much.”

But, I can’t.

So, God…please give me the words to tell her how much You love her.

“The thing is, Bean…God is very good, and He loves us so much.  But we live in a world where people have made bad choices. Remember how we talked about Adam and Eve?  Because of those bad choices we have to deal with things like our friends and family getting sick.  We have to deal with things like having to say goodbye to people before we are ready.  We have to deal with things like, being sad and sometimes lonely, and often wishing things were different.  But, God loves us sooo much, that He takes all that pain away if we let Him.  Sometimes, He heals our friends who are very sick; but sometimes, He lets them go home to live with Him, so they don’t have to hurt anymore. The best thing is…someday, we get to see them again.”

“Because, someday we get to go to heaven too!”

“That’s right.  Someday we get to go to heaven too.”

The truth is…I don’t know, Sweet Girl.  I don’t know why some people get better, and others don’t.  I don’t know why God allows the things that He does.  I don’t know why He doesn’t always heal.  I don’t know why some days hurt. This life rarely makes sense.  But I know one thing without a doubt.  God loves you sooooooo much.  I want you to know it too. I want you to believe it with everything inside of you.  Because, the truth is; hard days will come.  Hard days that cause you to question everything. In those moments, when nothing else makes sense…I want you to know without a shadow of a doubt that God’s love will keep you together. Yes, I want you to know it to your core. So, I guess I’ll just keep saying it-God loves you, soooo much. 

‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse.  ‘It’s a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become real.’ – The Velveteen Rabbit

I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about authenticity.  I would consider myself an authentic person.  A – what you see is what you get, kind of person. I try to be true to myself and others about what I’m thinking and feeling.  But, sometimes things happen in this life that cause you to question.  To question your choices.  To questions your goals.  To question your own motives and priorities. 

When I began this process, I came with the desire to be authentic. To share insight into my life; the way I process my day to day interactions, and the intentionality I strive to bring to my relationship with others. Yes, I love to share the funny things that my kids do, and the good times that we have together- but I don’t want to just entertain. I want to share. I want to be real. I want those who read this to also know, that it’s ok for you to be real too.

That being said…In thinking about this topic of authenticity; I have come to a conclusion: Authenticity begins with being honest with your own self.  I sit behind this keyboard a few days a week, and I replay the cute, catchy, and profound things that have happened in my family’s life…but I choose to forget the hard days that we have.  I choose to skim over the nights that I go to bed wondering if I’m screwing my kids up.  I dare not talk about the fact that, after 7 years of college and thousands of invested dollars, I still have so many questions about who I’m meant to be in this life.  

I had a friend say something to me several years ago, that has stuck with me.  They said that “Selflessness looks good on [me].”  Until that point, I had never thought of myself as a selfish person.  But the truth, is…I was.  I am.  And nothing highlights the selfish tendencies in your life like parenthood.  It’s a strange dichotomy; parenthood.  I often find myself caught between a strong need to spend every moment with these little humans, while at the same time yearning for a even a few minutes of solitude.  I desire more than most anything for my kids to succeed in life, yet when they come to me lately, more often than not I tell them I don’t have the time. First and foremost I want them to grow in love and the knowledge of their Heavenly Father. Yet, I let them down daily in the way that I speak to, and interact with them.

You’re probably wondering when I’m going to get to the point.  I’m not really sure what the point is…Talk about authenticity!  I think the point is, that going forward, I want the record to show that; I am growing.  I am learning.  I am being humbled.  I am looking to make a course correction.  I have seen in my children’s eyes, and heard from their mouths – in not so many words- that I have let them down.  I have prioritized my own agenda, while failing to take into account their needs.  Let me make this clear. I’m not talking about giving my kids everything that they want.  I’m not talking about spoiling them rotten and tailoring my life around their pleasure.  I’m talking about being present.  I talking about valuing time.  I’m talking about looking them in the eyes when I have a conversation with them. I’m talking about saying “no” to good things, and recognizing that the best thing I can be is a good wife to their Dad, good mother to them, and most importantly a good reflection of their Heavenly Father (and mine).  My life is truly a gift.  My family is an even greater gift.  If I’m being authentic with myself I would say that I have been squandering that gift. It ends today. 

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

I love being a mom. It is challenging, fun, frightening, always changing, and never boring. I learn something new everyday. Some days, I feel like a failure. I go to bed wishing for a do-over, but I always wake up the next morning to happy smiles that let me know the let-downs of yesterday have already been forgotten.

I’m pretty sure that my kids love me too. I know this, because I am NEVER alone. If I walk into the breezeway to get something out of the freezer, I hear my name being SCREAMED, because I have dared to leave the room. If I go to the bathroom, I know that I have approximately 90 seconds of privacy before someone figures out where I am and comes to find me. Walking to the mailbox I have “friends.” Making dinner, I have “helpers”…I think you get the point.

Let me say it again…I LOVE being a mom; and I truly love spending time with my children. I joke about their smothering love at times, but I am blessed that they want to be around me. This week, my eyes were opened to how truly important our time together is; and the influence my seemingly mundane actions have on them.

I enjoy exercising. Like every other part of my day, when I head downstairs to workout, I’m often follow by one or two shadows. On this day, my daughter wanted to join me. I ran a mile or so on the treadmill; after I was finished, she asked to get on- in her sparkly dress boots, I should add. Next, I decided to do some abdominal exercises, and she was right there with me. Every part of my workout, she was there. Right. THERE. After a while, it became a bit of a frustration, because I felt that she was slowing me down. Then she said something that stopped me in my tracks. As I was finishing a set, Lydia picked up the resistance bands I just laid down and said to me, “Mom, I’ll do the same thing you do”, and began to mimic the exercise she just watched me perform. I felt, simultaneous guilt and determination. I was trying to focus on my workout, praying that she would get bored and go find something else to do. I was getting irritated with her persistence to stay with me. She was watching me. She was wanting to be like me. She was patterning her performance after me.

As parents, how often do we take for granted the influence we have over our children? I was reminded this week that they are always watching, and their heart’s desire is to be like us. A desire, matched only by their want to please us with their efforts. My desire, is that everything I do, matches the words that I say to them. That my actions reinforce the character traits that I strive to instill in them. That I begin to see, even the mundane activities as an opportunity to teach them.

God, help me to be ever mindful of the fact, that when my children see what I am doing their response will often be, “Mom, I’ll do the same thing you do.”

I saw the movie “Unplanned” recently.  Although, it has taken me time to process, I feel compelled to say something about this film.  First let me say,  it is hard to describe a movie like this as good,but it was absolutely well-made.  It was thought-provoking, eye-opening, heartbreaking, and motivating.  Given these initial thoughts, let me tell you a quick story….

My life began as an unplanned pregnancy.  My mother was young, single, in the military, and far from home.  In the early 80’s, single-unwed mothers were not well thought of, at least not in the small town that she came from.  I expect that mixed-race babies of unwed mothers were even more scandalous at the time. Afraid, alone, and pregnant…my mom found herself in an abortion clinic…wanting to be a mom, but afraid to walk the road ahead.  At the time, I imagine she felt an abortion would be her best solution.  She was unprepared to raise a baby in this manner and unsure of what support; if any, she would have waiting for her.  In her words, my mom went to the clinic that day, and requested an abortion.  When she was told no; she was too far along, she argued with the doctor for the “procedure” to be done. She was refused.  In the end…she walked out of the clinic, and the rest was history.  Except it wasn’t history. The rest was her future, and mine.

Obviously, she did have me; as a young single mom.  She went home, and found the support she was afraid would not be waiting for her.  Times were not always easy…but we made it.  She married a few years later, and I was adopted by the most amazing man.  A few years after that, I got to be a big sister.  I had many great friends and loving family members.  I got to play sports growing up, my greatest passion at the time.  I took piano lessons. I went on mission trips. I went to college with a partial athletic scholarship and studied psychology and biology. I got my Master’s degree and worked as a mentor and case manager for troubled-kids. Soon after, I began working in public education.  I got married.  I had my own precious babies…the joy of my life.  I lost a couple of babies to miscarriage; and have questioned often over the years…“How old would they be right now?” “What would their personality be like?”  “Who would they become?” 

The point is…I get to live.  I get to experience life.  I get to follow my dreams.  I get to make plans and watch my own family grow.

When I watched Unplanned, the thought that kept going through my mind was, “Why”?  Why did I get to live?  Why was I able to leave that abortion clinic still growing and thriving…with a lifetime of experiences ahead of me? Why was I not a part of the roughly 1.5 million abortions that were reported the year I was born?  There is a scene in the movie…sorry to be graphic…when a blue barrel of aborted babies is wheeled out to a garbage truck (2, actually).  In that moment, I almost felt guilty for not a having a similar outcome.  I am not special.  I am not unique.  There is nothing about me that would indicate that I am more deserving of life than anyone else.  So, why me?   

I don’t have an answer to those questions.  But here are some things I do know…my life was not spared so that I could sit in silence.  My life was not spared so that I could care nothing of the fact that 60 million+ babies have been aborted since 1973.  My life was not spared so that I could let the lie continue that, unplanned pregnancies are destined for heartbreaking outcomes.  I don’t believe that my mom has ever regretted walking out of the clinic that day, with me still growing inside of her. I don’t think she has ever regretted not having to ask the questions: “How old would she be right now?”, “What would her personality be like?”, “Who would she become?” I know that I have NEVER been made to feel like a regret.

Experiencing the movie Unplanned has impacted my life, in a way that I cannot describe to you.  It has confirmed my heart of love and compassion for women who have had abortions, or find themselves in an abortion clinic; fearful, pressured, uncertain, and hopeless. It has strengthen my resolve to be a voice for the voiceless; which now span several generations. It has strengthened my desire for anyone who reads this to know that; if you find yourself in these circumstances at this very moment, this is not the end of your story. You are not destined to be a statistic and neither is your baby. There are other options. There is hope.  There is redemption.  Believe it or not right now…there are many happy memories to come.      

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