To the Christian Mommas on Christmas...

I'm working on a new site but I wanted to get this post out there so I'm using my old reliable site. No fancy pictures or art- just some thoughts. Thanks for stopping by!

I know Thanksgiving hasn't even come yet but I have some thoughts on Christmas to share. Really just one thought with many words.

Last year a few weeks before Christmas my family and I were out to eat. I was sitting at the table very pregnant with our toddler while the other two kids were going through the buffet line with Reuben and my mom. To the left of me a young mother and her son, probably 8 years old, were sitting silently. They were both visibly upset. Finally she said, "If you get in trouble at school again, you aren't getting any presents for Christmas. Santa won't come and I'm not getting you anything. You have to be good or you won't get anything!" The boy started crying and she told him to stop.

I was heartbroken for him. I hear this sort of thing a lot this time of year.

Can I share some thoughts on this? One mom to another?

The thought of making my kids "earn Christmas" makes my heart hurt. Christmas is when we celebrate God's FREE gift to the world. A Savior born to us in the town of David. The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The gift of God FREELY lavished on us. We did nothing to earn Him. We do nothing to keep Him. He is the greatest gift we will ever receive and He is free. No strings attached. No behavior clauses to fulfill.

How does God feel that we celebrate the day He gave us the FREE gift of His Son by making it about earning love and earning stuff? We've turned Christmas into Santa's Behavior program with requirements not one of us can meet. "You better be good, Santa can see you!" And now instead of eager expectation our kids are filled with guilt and worry. They know that they can not be "good". They know that they fail. They know that sometimes it's just too hard to always do the right thing. And I wonder if they begin to doubt they are enough for God or are enough for us? If all they hear is that they aren't measuring up for us how will they ever believe that someone greater than us loves them just as they are?

And here is a great opportunity, moms, parents, teachers, childcare workers- humans. Acknowledge your child's failure and use it to point them to Christ.

If you're going to talk about right and wrong and behavior and earning gifts at Christmas, then talk to your child about sin and the struggle to do what we should do. Tell her God knew we couldn't do anything right on our own and that's why He gave us Christmas. That's why He gave us Christ and we didn't have to earn Him at all. Tell her Christmas is free even if she yells at her sister for the 9th time today and even if she didn't pass that spelling test and even if she slammed that door shut in anger. Christmas isn't about our imperfection, it's about God's perfect love. So no matter what, there will be a present under the tree. We will celebrate that God never gives up on us. We will rejoice because we will never have to earn His faithfulness.

I know it's hard sometimes not to use everything you've got to try to get our children to behave. But can I ask you to take Christmas out of the arsenal pile? It's not a threat or a punishment- it's a gift. It's free. And it's the best gift your child will ever receive so let her have it- no strings attached.

And watch how your child blossoms under this new found freedom. Watch how she grows under the blanket of love and hope instead of punishment and fear. Watch how she learns to talk to God and to you about the things she struggles with and how she genuinely wants to try to do better.

And if you still really want to withhold a holiday, take away President's Day. No one cares about that anyway. :)

10 Years!

I have been married today for 10 years. 10.Years.

That's a long time. That's a lot of life with one man by my side. 

I met Reuben 12 years ago when I was just a 20 year-old kid still figuring myself out. I knew I loved Jesus,  but I didn't know anything that I was really passionate about beyond that. I was still coming into my own. When I was trying to decide what I wanted to do and where I belonged, I met this man who had this way of telling me I belonged wherever he was. I fit into him like my favorite fall sweater and he filled in all the spaces I never knew were empty.  I grew up with that man. Am still growing up with him.

We were just kids! Kids I say!

Reuben has always made me laugh. Not just that polite little laugh when something is slightly humorous, but that belly laugh where your stomach hurts and tears fall from your eyes and you wonder what life was like before you laughed that way. He always says that if we can keep laughing with each other we'll always be okay. The thing is though, he also holds me when I cry. And after 10 years as husband and wife- I've cried a lot of tears. We've been through two of the hardest seasons of my life together: I lost my sister to lupus just 3 years into our marriage and just a few months ago I was drowning so deep in postpartum depression I wasn't sure I'd ever touch dry land again.  And God was constant. And Reuben was constant. He holds me when I cry which is just as important to me as making me laugh. 

That man, he sacrifices a lot for me, too. He gets up every week day and goes to a 9-5 that puts food on our table and a roof over our heads so I can live my dream of a simple life at home with our children homemaking, homeschooling, resting and writing. He's got dreams, too and a 9-5 isn't one of them but he gladly pursues his own dreams late hours into the night so I can have mine all day every day. He wears sacrifice like a cloak and isn't that what Jesus asked? That Reuben would love me the way Jesus loved His people? Laying down a life so that others can live? He's not perfect and sometimes that sacrifice comes with complaint but He's willing and if that doesn't say love I don't know what does. I've learned more about sacrifice and gratitude from marriage than from any other venue in life.

There have been hard times. There have been clench your fist and your teeth and bare it times. There have been, "We were too young", "We weren't ready", "We had no idea", "Is this really what we signed up for?" times. And there has been so much grace we had to learn how to breathe all over again. Breathe God's grace instead of anger. Breathe God's grace instead of blame, disappointment, shame, fear, doubt. You know what? We're still learning.  But when my husband extends grace instead of blame? I know that he's coming closer to understanding the grace God extends to him, too. When I can forgive instead of harbor anger? Well...if you know you're loved, you can love. And if you know you're forgiven, you can forgive. Thanks be to God He keeps reminding us we're loved and forgiven and filled with grace.

I'm not sure why Lincoln is so upset, but Reuben and I are having a great time!

And to me this day is only a little about going back and revisiting the memories from 10 years ago- the dress, the music, the look in his eyes when he said he would forever and forever. But it's a lot about where we are right now and where we are heading. It's about the lessons we've learned that have built a solid foundation under these 10 years. It's about the "I'm sorrys" and those belly laughs that came after we said "I do". I won't look back too long because there's this theme that's been echoing in my heart and it's "the best is yet to come".  My best body? (After 4 kids probably not.) Our best years? Absolutely. Because even though my hair has changed, and my stomach has changed, and our free time looks different and our finances are different, I will take all those changes because they mean we have been doing this marriage thing together for 10 whole years and we have moved forward in really big ways. Because the way we disagree is also different and our expectations of each other and the house and date night and our day to day are different, too. Our picture of true love has changed and our understanding of what it takes to make marriage work has been altered...by marriage. :)  

And I am still so very much in love with the man who shows me every day that where I belong is still wherever he is.

The best is yet to come.

I love you, Reuben. Happy Anniversary.

The Lost Art of Pondering

"So they (the shepherds) hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." Luke 2:16-19

Mary treasured and pondered.

Something has been nagging at me for a while. Each time I log into social media, or read some blog posts, or even overhear a public conversation that should be private, I start to wonder and worry that we've lost the art of pondering.

According to Merriam-Webster.com, Ponder is a verb (an action!) and means: 

1:  to weigh in the mind :  appraise <pondered their chances of success>

2

:  to think about :  reflect on <pondered the events of the day>

intransitive verb

3:  to think or consider especially quietly, soberly, and deeply 

In these days, we feel so much freedom to share with

EVERYONE

EVERY THOUGHT we have,

EXACTLY when we have it. 

"I feel like Chinese tonight!"

"Ugh- I'm so sick of this weather!"

"My kids are driving me nuts!"

I understand these posts. I've posted these posts. But I've been thinking lately, should every thought be shared? Is everything going on in your life really for all the public to know? Have we lost the ability to think through our emotions, process them constructively and then wait and see what venues may arise for us to share our knowledge? Is getting immediate feedback on a poorly thought out, knee-jerk post more gratifying than a delayed response to a well thought out idea you choose to share with a carefully selected audience?

True, many people recently have met serious consequences due to their lack of discretion in what they share publicly. I just read this article about a young woman who cost her family a sizable settlement for sharing her thoughts about a situation publicly. Others have lost their jobs or relationships for similar mishaps, or honestly, for just saying inappropriate things publicly.

I don't have a smart phone. When I take a picture I use my good ole' digital camera, plug 'er into the desktop and upload photos into iphoto. If I want to share a picture I have to go through this lengthy process which ultimately saves me, I'm sure, from posting a thousand pictures a day. I don't have immediate access to everyone's tweets and twitters :) or their Instagram accounts or FB posts. If I felt the need to share every thought I had, it would be a lot harder than for some. I'm okay with that. And you know what? When my children get older, I don't want them to have smart phones or whatever else will be available, either.

I don't want my kids growing up thinking they are more important than they are. Actually every thought they have, every meal they eat, every outfit they wear and every vacation they go on is not everyone's business and not everyone actually cares. I want to raise them to invest deeply and meaningfully in a few core relationships, not interact in shallow ways with the masses. I want them to ponder how their words may make people feel before they throw them out for all to see. I want them to ponder what is worthy of their time- uploading selfies and pictures of their meals, venting about the interaction with a person who upset them- or learning to lean into God for all their self worth and validation? I want them to think about their world, their lives, what role they play in it all and let the things they hear in the quiet guide the words they say and the things they do in the light. I want them to know how to sit and wait, how to pray, how to write down their thoughts and ideas, how to go to God first when something overwhelms or confuses them, and how to honor God with this process. I want these things for myself, too. 

In the opening verses of Psalm 73, the Psalmist describes a situation that was confusing and oppressive to him. Then, in verses 16-17 he describes how he found clarity: 

"When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me til I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny."

Til I entered the sanctuary of God...

The psalmist knew how to ponder, how to think and pray and let God speak. He knew how to bring his concerns and fears to God and let God give him understanding. He didn't need to hear from anyone else- just God. I want this same knowledge and pursuit in my own life. I want to look forward more to getting into God's presence than logging into Facebook. I want to get in the habit of first bringing my thoughts or concerns to God, learning to wait on Him, and then asking Him if I need to follow up with someone else on what I learned in that process. I also don't want to be so consumed with sharing the little, less meaningful things each day that it takes time away from the process of pondering. I could spend 20 less minutes on social media each day giving me more time to ponder and be in God's presence.  

When we take time to think and truly reflect on the life that God has given us to live, I imagine we'll see blessing and grace and love like never before. I imagine this will enable us to live with purpose and meaning that far outweighs any instant feedback we get on a post we considered for a second before we typed it up and let it fly. I imagine God will guide and direct us as we ponder, and wait, and lean and pray. This is a pursuit worthy of my time. And yours. 

With love,

Latrice

A Life Well Lived

After getting home from a morning playdate, I tucked the kids into bed for their afternoon naps and headed to our computer. I wanted to watch some home videos of when Bubby was Chipmunk’s age because I was having a hard time remembering my now 3 year old being that little. I scrolled through the short videos, this one of Peanut’s 3rd birthday, this one of the trip to the pumpkin patch when Chipmunk was just born. Suddenly, without warning, tears filled my eyes. 

Oftentimes, when I think about mothering and all the changes being a mom has brought to my life, I tend to focus on what is hard. Being a stay at home mom, feeling isolated, missing the workforce (not so much any more but initially), feeling unsuccessful at parenting, living in a constantly messy house, going to bed often wondering if I am doing a good job, straining to remember when the last date night was, feeling some days like I yell, beg and plead more than whisper, sing and pray. Some days fleeing to Target just for a moment’s peace and jeeze, the list could go on.

But you know what? As I watched those videos, none of that was evident (except the messy house because you can’t miss that). But I couldn’t see any of those other things or feel any of those emotions in those videos. All I could see was a life well lived. 

A Life. Well Lived. 

I saw these tiny people doing adorable things: clapping for the first time, taking their first steps, splashing in the bath tub, opening birthday presents, meeting a new sibling for the first time, playing hide and seek standing out in the open and giggling, digging in the sand, splashing in the baby pool. And all I could think was, what a way to live a life. What a way to make a life:

• Pressing in each day and taking the time to fully realize motherhood. Embracing my new curves and the deep belly laughs only my kids can bring out of me. 
• Feeling my heart swell when I witness these little people do something that brings me joy. 
• Hugging and kissing and teaching and training. 
• Fighting to keep my eyes open on date night and cherishing those moments when Reuben and I get to be alone. Remembering again and again that only he can make me laugh like that. 
• Pouring sprinkles on ice cream and reading that book they love for the millionth time.
• Singing Jesus Loves Me till she falls asleep and tearing the house apart looking for that dang train he can’t sleep without.
• Pillow fights. Leaf pile jumps. Play dates. Pedaling bikes. Memorizing scripture. Bedtime prayers. Late night cries. Early morning pleas. Dress up tea parties. Pirate battles. Tickle tag. Paw Patrol. Dieting and exercising. Again. And again. Cake and candy. Themed birthdays. Day trips and pumpkin carvings. Trimming the tree. More “I love you’s” than I can count. 

What a way to live a life. 

I’m sure in the moments those videos were shot, if you’d asked me, I’d have had a list a mile long of all the things I would have changed to make those days better. But now I don’t even know what that list would contain. All I know is that when I watch those videos, I see the people I love most doing what we love best: living life together. 

What a way to live a life. 

I’m grateful, God. So grateful. 

Through the fears...

She was excited to get to bed tonight. She and her brother had been sharing a room for a few months, but tonight was the first night she had her room back to herself with her brother next door in his new quarters. She oohed and ahhed over his new room and made some requests for hers. "Can I have my chair back please?" "May I have a pretend cake to bake in my princess oven?" Nervous of how the younger one would do on his own, we reminded each of them several times of the new change that would take place. They laughed and nodded and seemed okay with the switch.

We followed bedtime routine normally, read books, our Bible, sang songs and held hands in a circle and prayed. Then, as I began to usher Peanut to her now brother-less room, she burst into wild and sudden tears.

"What's wrong?" I questioned. She climbed her small, almost four-year old frame onto my lap as I sat on her bed. I held her a long while and finally she looked in the direction of where her brother's crib used to sit and whispered, "I don't like sleeping alone."

All the excitement and courage she had displayed only moments ago melted away into frailness and vulnerability. She was lonely. She was afraid.

My heart sank. Deep. In that moment I confronted my own frailties and fears. My own loneliness. I still sleep better with a light on. Still can't quite relax until my hubby's warm body is snuggled against me when I sleep. My own fears.  Still can choke some days on the anxiety that rises so easily in me. Still feel so afraid so unexpectedly. But if I could just keep these things from rising in her. If I could just love her enough and train her enough so that she never felt afraid, never felt worried, never felt alone...

Then all the books and articles on children's sleep habits I'd read raced through my mind. "Don't stay with your child until she falls asleep...don't let children sleep in your bed...bad habits...no going back...teach them to cope..."  But this was not a moment to train her to cope. This was not a moment to abandon her to research best practices or push her off the diving board and hope she swam. This was a moment to demonstrate that as long as Momma is here I will help her fight her fears- on my knees, yes always- every day before God asking and petitioning; but sometimes, too, squished next to her and 15 stuffed animals in her twin sized bed, snuggled up close, singing the fears away. And I felt...grace.

Maybe sometimes we aren't supposed to fix the problem. Maybe sometimes we aren't supposed to take every teachable moment and try to instill some deep value that will create growth. Just maybe sometimes we can meet someone in our frail imperfection, tell them we understand, hold their hand, and cry right along with them.

Or maybe sing a song till the fears are gone.

And the harsh reality of this world, especially as it relates to the ones we hold most dear, is that our love could never be enough. I will never be able to love her enough to protect her from all the loneliness and fears she will face, but thanks be to God that His love is enough to hold us both when she does face them. His love gives me songs to sing in the dark and lonely places. I can hold her tight because He holds us both tighter. Thanks be to God.

And so we end the night with me holding on tight, whisper singing "Jesus Loves Me" and "You are my sunshine". And she smiles. Through the fears.

"Casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you..." 1 Peter 5:7

I'm Taking Christmas Back!

We received a toy catalog in the mail last week filled to the brim with all the things my children need this Christmas. I keep getting emails from certain stores with alluring pictures of shiny girls with new dolls and rough and tumble boys with bikes and trains and video games...and of course, I perused the catalog and viewed the emails. What good mother wouldn't? Of course if there are amazing toys out there that my children must have I must begin executing a plan now to ensure they have it all. Layaway? Credit cards? Overspending? Doesn't matter how we do it! Our children MUST have an epic Christmas and toys and gifts will make it so.

But then, as I was driving yesterday contemplating why Santa is such a big deal (that's another controversy for another post), I realized this: Christmas is already epic. The God of the universe sent Himself in human form to the earth so that He could have a relationship with the people He created and ultimately ensure we could have a relationship with Him forever. It is...mind boggling, insane, crazy and yes, EPIC. So what on earth do these toy catalogs have to do with that? Why all the commercialism and stress and abundance of so much crap we don't need? (Wow, thanks for the pen that is also a paper weight and alarm clock! It's what I've always wanted!) I suddenly, in this moment of clarity, saw a great need for simplicity.

I called my husband who I had just recently gone over a Christmas budget with and said, "I know how we can and why we should reduce our Christmas budget by 80%." (He was very excited by the way I began this conversation!) I went on to explain the idea of a traditional, home made Christmas and all the reasons I wanted out of the Christmas Crazies. I suggested we make gifts for our children using simple and affordable materials, make our own Christmas decor and focus this season on family and faith instead of gifts and spending. In short, I asked his permission to simply bow out of all the crazy spending, plotting, scheming and stress that comes with what should be the most stressless and thankful holiday we celebrate. He loved the idea! So when I arrived home, I began some online research on a homemade Christmas only to realize I didn't need any help. I know my children and the things they like. Besides, I wasn't trying to recreate some one else's homemade Christmas, I wanted to create ours!

We decided on some truly unique, truly fabulous gifts for our children that are low cost and high appeal and partially or completely homemade! I won't buy one new ornament or decoration this year. Instead, Peanut, Bubby and I are going to make everything we decide we'd like out of around the house supplies! We're going to read a lot of books about Christmas and the reason we celebrate, have a simple birthday party for Jesus, and spend time together as a family. We'll eat food we love, make snowballs (please? A white Christmas pretty please?), drink hot chocolate and maybe even sing some carols.  Our budget is still going to be in tact on December 26th and maybe my children won't feel like Christmas is over after opening their gifts. Because isn't the "spirit" of Christmas about more than running to the tree and opening presents? As exciting as that is, it's a momentary fix that quickly fades. Do you even remember what you got for Christmas last year or what you got your children? My greatest Christmas memories from childhood mostly don't include gifts (except- I do remember the year I got Michael Jackson's History album! I heart him!). What they do include is my Grandma's lap and her sweet potato pie and how she always smelled of sweet perfume. They include Meah and I finding our Christmas shoeboxes (another post on a Christmas tradition I will share with you later!) and the delicious cookies Grandma made rolled in powdered sugar. They include snowball fights with mom and dad and spending the whole day with the family with no other agenda. I'm taking Christmas back for my family this year. I'm bowing out of the stress and the spending and the worry if it is enough and the all the craziness.

I have never been more excited about Christmas.

Now, is it too early for Christmas music?

Our "We"

Things are still pretty slow moving around here just 3 weeks into welcoming home Little Baby Diva (LBD). *Appropriately named as she won't sleep at night unless being held. But she's cute, huh?

I just got around to putting away laundry I washed a week and a half ago. I finally vacuumed and dusted the living room. And my lounge pants are still my favorite article of clothing. I still have had no desire to go out on a family outing save to church and Target. And we are eating such simple, borderline junk food meals (except that they are homemade so that's better right?), that I am afraid my kids have forgotten what fresh veggies taste like. Such is the life of a mom with a newborn. We are mostly in hermit/survival mode. Except that, a couple weeks ago, when LBD was just less than a week old, we got an invitation to a birthday party for this past Friday that I RSPVed to right away. Even though I was tired, even though we had a newborn, even though I knew there was a high likelihood that the day of the party would come and I would be almost too exhausted to find something decent to wear and to get the kids dressed, I knew we were going. Because the invite was from a family in our community of friends that is more like family than friends to us.


We go to a church that we love. We've attended there for years, were engaged there (literally there because that's where Reuben proposed!), married there, and have raised our kids there as well. We adore it. But it is large. And growing. Each weekend we see different people and sometimes never our close friends who attend different service times. We are so thankful for our church, but also for what I feel is our "mini-church", which consists of a few families we have grown so close with, they are our family.

Friday night, we joined most of these families to celebrate the birthday of one of the boys in our group. I had been looking forward to it for some time and when we arrived I remember feeling joy and relief to be with people I loved so much. We ate great food and had great conversation. At one point, one of the two year-old boys in our group felt it important to demonstrate how he could spin around in a circle, (after his older brother demonstrated it first), and I felt strangely emotional when all of the adults in the room stopped what they were doing to watch this demonstration and then cheer wildly as if it was the most amazing thing we had ever seen. A smile covered the little guy's entire face and the adults were all smiling, too.

Why does that matter? Why feel emotional about that? (Yes, the post-pregnancy hormones could have played a role.) But truthfully, I felt overwhelmed to be part of a community of friends who will celebrate our children and lift them up. I know that they will walk with us and celebrate with us through every milestone my kids hit, and pray with us through every setback. I know I can trust them with my children's hearts and not be disappointed with how they treat them. That's the kind of community we've built together.

When Peanut had to meet with a specialist to determine the likelihood of her having the same disease that ended my sister's life, these are the people I called instantly to ask for prayer and to share my worries. These are ones who called on the day of the test to offer kind encouragement, who sent encouraging texts and left voicemails saying they were praying and who anxiously awaited the results and then rejoiced with us when we received good news. And these would have been the same people who would have carried us and prayed with us if we had received bad. These are the ones who have prayed with us in our home for our children or any other difficulty we've faced. The ones who bring meals when we need them or kind words or open arms.  They are family. Our kids have known each other for their entire lives and I foresee lifelong friendships. We share the same values and interests, but also bring our own cultures and life experiences to the group. We can laugh and joke but also be serious and truthful.

We're family and I love them.

And it didn't happen overnight. We went through that awkward get to know you stage, and then the, "I want to be friends, but how do we do that stage?", followed by the "Are we at the point where we can call just to say hi?" stage and then a number of building stages after that, landing us finally at the, "I'm so glad we are doing life together" stage. Wish I had a group picture to post but we're all usually running around at different times or someone is never happy with their hair (usually me). But, you know who you are. I love you.

And if you don't have a "we" yet. Please keep seeking. We all need a "we". Go through the awkward stages. Invite people over. Join a connect group at your church or find a place to get involved. Find your "we". Life is just sweeter with a "We".

Peanut in the center with a couple of her "We".