Christmas Giving

I have not blogged in quite awhile. Life has been really messy. I have decided that having four children has escorted me to the very edge of myself. Grace is not just a cliché familiarity, but something I need to survive. I feel like my brain and body is the epitome of exhaustion. Yet, here I am. There isn't enough time for a nap, and muffins are in the oven for snack time. Full-time job is not inclusive enough for stay at home parenting! Love though, it makes you do crazy things, and I really love my children.

I am here to offer up my opinion on Christmas. I am not by personality a controversial person, and so writing about Christmas is scary for me. SCARY. Why are nativity scenes and Christmas trees and pretty gift-wrapped boxes scary? Well, those are not exactly the frightening elements I am referring to, though they certainly play a part. Instead, I have found myself reflecting more and more on the position a large percentage of the church has taken towards gift giving. In an attempt to shield and separate ourselves from “the world” there is a growing movement to not at all celebrate the commercialism of Christmas. A clever “something you want, something you need, something to wear, and something to read” has plastered itself in an aesthetically pleasing meme on Pinterest, and even I let the words sink deep inside my soul to see how it felt, and I have to say, I didn't like it.

Now, if you love this method of giving gifts to your children, I want you to continue. This is not an attack on you. This is my opinion, remember? It's okay if we're different.

I personally believe that Christmas is a time to give extravagantly. I believe Christmas is a time to truly portray God the Father's heart towards us, His favorite children. I believe children should go wild making lists and harboring expectancy, and that Christmas morning should exceed their expectations.

I didn't realize my stance was even controversial until recently. I realize of course that so many in the church (and maybe outside of it) are desperate to separate their children from entitlement. I absolutely believe that in a first world nation like America, this is indeed a lifestyle that I do not want attaching itself to my children. Listen though, entitlement does not come from expectancy. Entitlement does not come from receiving gifts freely. Entitlement comes when we believe we deserve what we have been given. That is literally the opposite of the gospel. The recipe for warding off entitlement is not to withhold gifts from children, but to explain to them they did absolutely nothing to earn these presents, and as little people, they couldn't do chores an entire year and buy these presents for themselves. Instead, they receive presents because they are precious and loved, the same reason God gives to us. Not out of worthiness, but because of the inherent worth He has put on our lives. Also, I enjoy the look on their faces. When our children receive gifts out of this place of humility, then years of plenty and years of lack make no difference at all.

Facebook memories invited me to reflect on a post I made several years back. I had discovered the toy Jake really, really wanted was out of stock because we didn't have the money to order it sooner than mid-December. It was a seriously cool toy. I told Jake that so many boys had asked for this toy, that Santa wouldn't be able to bring it to him [I know, a little white lie]. His face sunk and he ran to his room. I followed him, thinking he was heartbroken. No, he was gathering bags and boxes (whatever he could find) and stuffing Lego's into them. He tells me that he didn't realize Santa could run out of toys and he wanted to create Lego sets to give to other children who wouldn't receive the sets that they asked for. He then tells me, “I don't care if you give me anything. I already have Jesus.”

This is the heart of Christmas-- not the gifts. But, the gifts flow from this place! The greatest gift we all have is Jesus. Everything else, the extravagant generosity of Christmas, flows out of this celebration. I want to reiterate that some years have been more plentiful than others. We are also blessed with family that gives generously to our children. My point is though, that we have never felt compelled to hold back. My children are not entitled, they are expectant and grateful. Now, we don't give just to cover our living room floor. We thoughtfully and prayerfully consider requests, set a reasonable budget for the season we are in, and then, by all means, go wild!! 

I also never use Christmas to bribe my children into “good behavior.” If they are naughty, discipline will ensue, but not on Christmas morning. I was just reading Psalm 78 last night, about the Israelite's. Here is a small excerpt with some emphasis added in parentheses:

“He performed miracles in plain sight of their parents...He split the sea and they walked right through it...He led them by day with a cloud, led them all night long with a fiery torch. He split rocks in the wilderness, gave them all the could drink from underground springs....All they did was sin even more....They whined like spoiled children [and asked for more]....When God heard that, he was furious...But God helped them anyway and gave orders to open up the gates of heaven. He rained down showers of manna to eat, he gave them the bread of heaven....This time it was birds that rained down- succulent birds. An abundance of birds. He aimed them right into the center of their camp [they didn't have to work for it]...But their greed knew no bounds; they stuffed their mouths with more and more. Finally God was fed up....they kept right on sinning....they turned and plead for mercy. They gave witness that God was their rock....but they didn't mean a word of it; they lied through their teeth the whole time. They could not have cared less about him...And, God? Compassionate! Forgave the sin! Didn't destroy! Over and over he reigned in his anger....How often in the desert they had spurned him, tried his patience in those wilderness years.....How quickly they forgot what he had done...”

Basically you are reading about entitlement. Yet God did not say, “That's it. You're just getting manna!” No, when they asked for water, he supernaturally supplied water. When they asked for food, he gave them the bread of heaven. When they asked for meat, he rained down “succulent quail” right into their camp, as if on a platter. He scattered their enemies so they had nothing to fear. Still, they forgot all he had done to deliver them from Egypt. He continued to give until he was utterly fed up, at which point they still didn't care! Okay, this would be a reasonable time to neglect gift-giving, I think. God allowed his children to push him to the breaking point-- a place where they literally lied to him as they worshiped, before he withdrew his generosity. Still, in his heart there was already a plan brewing, the greatest gift of all time was waiting to be unleashed into the world, a gift that would draw his children back into his heart for eternity. God is not afraid of entitlement. The Bible tells us he did not spare his own son. It's not like he was thinking, “If I give them Jesus, they're going to want me too. We can't have that!” He was after relationship! And, giving out of relationship does not induce entitlement, unless the receiver doesn't want relationship. In the case of children, you have a relationship, so heap on the goodness. That's what God does! While we are on the topic of relationship, let me add that entitlement doesn't come as a result of Christmas, but how one parents the other 364 days of the years. 

“He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all--how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:32

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” James 1:17

“ God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” Ephesians 3:20-21

I included some scriptures that I believe reference this issue. I also want to mention the Prodigal Son parable here-- The father, symbolic of God, gave the naughty son his inheritance early! Then, he squandered it on prostitutes and parties. He humbled himself and came home, and the father did not say, "Well, I'm not giving anything more to you." No, he continued to give to his son. God uses giving-- even material things, to invite us into his love.This is symbolic of a spiritual truth, that God loves to give to his children. 

In closing, I just want to say that if your children are saved, and the gospel is growing in their healthy little hearts, I personally do not believe that extravagant giving on Christmas day is going to ruin their lives. I believe Christmas is a time to celebrate generosity to your children, and to others. That being said, generosity is not something to contain in your living room. We sponsor a child or two every year, something we invite our children into. You know, gift-giving is just fun! There are ways to do it richly. There are ways to do it cheaply. I can still remember one year we couldn't afford a Christmas tree, so Jake made one out of Lego's. A friend heard we didn't have one, and offered us hers 5 day before Christmas because she was traveling out of town to see family. Jake shrieked, “Now we have TWO Christmas trees!!” I still remember that Christmas, when we didn't expect to have a Christmas tree, that we had two-- a colorful Lego one in the window, and a perfectly green, heavenly-scented one with lights in the living room. God is so extravagant! TWO TREES! Entitlement is not bred as a result of being given something, it comes when we can't celebrate the plastic Lego tree. Entitlement is faithless. Entitlement is self-focused. The very nature of GIVING is to take the focus off yourself. So, let's empty our pockets and our hearts this Christmas. Yeah, I said it! Not just on ourselves, either. Anyone outside of the church should recognize Christians as the most extravagant givers on earth. After all, we learned it from our Father, right? 

Magic in the Mess

What if there is magic in the mess?

This is a question I have been pondering deep down in my spirit. What if all the details that cause me distress are just sprinkles on the sweetness of life.

I know it's strange to consider, but hear me out.

Yesterday I was telling my husband about this trend in which certain stores will refuse to open on Black Friday. Paul was not impressed, arguing that most of these stores probably don't turn a profit on Black Friday, but they'll use 'holiday spirit' to generate some positive attention. He says, “Tell me when Target closes on Black Friday, then I will be impressed.” This lead to the topic of grocery stores opening partially on Thanksgiving and how it's not ideal, but I added, “What in the heck would your parents have done if grocery stores closed on Thanksgiving?” Our evening meal would have been severely lacking considering the ingredients his busy parents seemed to overlook until the morning of Thanksgiving!

My in-laws were two busy ministers. They loved and served the poor through their little church, and Thanksgiving was not even a day my father-in-law had off, as he would drive to the home of a certain home bound man, and bring him over for a holiday dinner.

All of this used to be really frustrating for me. All the things they would forget. All the time they would take. All the people they would invite (or not invite).

All the while commotion and laughter would erupt in the kitchen, “No, Honey! I told you to buy juice, not cocktail. Oh dear. I can't make this with cocktail. I have to go get the juice!”

I would catch the clock out of the corner of my eye, taking note we were already AN HOUR behind schedule, and this would throw us off another hour.

Paul's mom would run to the convenient store to pay a 25% mark up for cranberry juice, and Paul's father would peek around the corner and wave us into his bedroom. He would tell us, “Come here! Look where I hid the rum!” He was always hiding alcohol underneath his bed, in the corner of his closet, masked by a paper bag on top of the fridge. It wasn't because he was a priest, as he allowed himself an occasional capful over ice cream or in a glass of milk! No, he would hide it because their son was a recovering addict and was known for “killing off” any alcohol left around the house. Paul's father would snicker as he revealed the hiding place of choice between the holidays. I always felt strange, like, families shouldn't have to hide alcohol.

Don't forget, the lonely invalids of the community (one in particular attended every holiday) were sitting in the living room. I always tried to talk to them, to be courteous and kind, but nothing seemed to surface in my mind to say past “Happy Thanksgiving,” or “Merry Christmas,” depending on the holiday. Small talk....such fun.

I was most annoyed by Paul's brother. I didn't want my kids to know and understand words like “probation” or “jail” or “urine sample.” But, they did. One year Uncle Stephen forgot the charger for his ankle band for probation. Then it started dying, and he was panicking beyond panic. Paul offered to run him home to grab it. My kids asked where Daddy was going. Well, he's going to help Uncle Stephen grab a charger he forgot that he needs so he can charge his probation band so he doesn't go back to jail. Uncle Stephen had to hang out by an outlet for an hour and the kids sat at his feet while he gave them the run down on how probation bands work. He said the word “stupid” in his presentation, and little Jake snapped, “Uncle Stephen, if you talk like that, the police are GOING to put you BACK IN JAIL!” Uncle Stephen thought that was hilarious. I smiled only with the belief that sometimes you have to smile, or you cry.

Then, there were the holiday occasions where Uncle Stephen would detox on the couch, sweating and snoring away. I was offended. Sometimes I would cry in the bathroom, wishing I could be with my family, not in the middle of such of a mess.

If you are new to my blog, I regret to tell you my in-laws were killed in a car accident 3 years ago this month. Paul's brother Stephen died of an asthma attack at the age of 30.

Last night, Paul and I were cracking ourselves up with these stories.

“Remember how your parents were ALWAYS running late?”

“Remember how your dad hid his alcohol from Stephen?”

“Remember how they always got that last minute trip to the store in?”

“Remember how Thanksgiving was always an open invitation to anyone without a friend or family?”

“Remember when Stephen was plugged up to the wall for an hour to charge his probation band...oh yeah, you took him to get that charger. That was a nice thing you did for him. No one wanted to do it. Then, Jake told him if he said “stupid” the police would take him to jail!”

REMEMBER? We just laughed. Then Paul said, “Remember how magical my parents always made the Holidays?”

They were magical. Messy and magical. The magic was in the mess, how they could just laugh at a half-thawed turkey, or a dry turkey, or a Cranberry Wassail made with cocktail because someone dropped the ball with the grocery shopping. They would laugh at the clock as the hours gone by betrayed their pace. They would put anything on hold to play with the grand-kids. They always invited their son to a holiday dinner, even if it meant he would detox on the couch or have to “charge himself” by an outlet. They loved people. Given the choice between having their mess, and not having them at all, I would choose their mess in a heartbeat. I look back on their mess with swelling joy in my heart.

I have wondered now how much more I would have enjoyed the holidays then if I would have just let myself laugh. I wonder if I would have enjoyed myself more if I would have served Stephen in his brokenness instead of allowing myself be offended by him. Even though I can't go back and do those things, I realized I have a choice to make. I can allow my current messes to become magical. I can choose to laugh at my mistakes, and let interruptions segue into new plans. I can tickle a disobedient toddler, toss out a dish I oversalted and order pizza. I can choose to add magic to all the messes I make on a daily basis. I hope my children can look back at those {many} times that I failed at something, burned something, got frustrated with a project -whatever- and hear my laughter echoing in their remembrance, and think to themselves, Man, Mom was always laughing. Mom was joyful despite the circumstances.

That's exactly how I remember Paul's parents. The holidays were magical. Their laughter filled the home. I am grateful for the legacy they left me, unashamedly enjoying moments, every bit of them. That is how you truly bring magic to the mess.

I miss you Wolf and Doni, and all the magical holidays you created for my family. There were not enough of them.

Bring Back the Sun

I have navigated different sorts of grief quite a bit for 28 years old, certainly more times than I would choose for myself. I can’t think of any other way to describe grief, except when you head to the pool on a sunny day only to find a cluster of clouds have danced their way just over the sun. Suddenly, the sky is gray and the water is too cold to enjoy. The best laid plans are foiled, and you’re left only wanting what you had before-- not new plans. But, grief is indeed the great re-arranger of life. My grief now is a thousand times different than it was when my great-grandmother died, or when Paul’s parents died, or when my first dog died, or when I moved across the country away from my family. It’s just different, in the same way the situation and emotions surrounding it are a thousand times different. Somehow I have found myself clouded, nonetheless.

I used to think that people in tragedy knew God most. Like Mother Theresa, enough hardship and grief would make one saintly, living fully in the glory of God. I have, however, found in my experience the opposite to be true. I cling to the verse, “God is near to the broken-hearted,” because time after time in my grief I find that God disappears. He is the sun lost behind the clouds. I tell myself my experience isn’t true, that the Word is true and the faithfulness of God is true and the presence of God is close to me. I remind myself that faith has nothing to do with feelings, and while that is true, it would be nice to feel something.

When Paul’s parents died, as I would lie in bed at night, I felt like my soul was being served to Satan on a platter. I wrote that in my journal. It was ugly, and messy, and instead of the comfort of the Comforter Himself, I felt that Satan was having His way with me. Why does grief do that? Even last night as I read a book about the goodness of God, an evil laughter resonated in my ear, “This is stupid.” Nothing hurts more in my heart than the notion that God actually doesn’t care, and so the enemy makes that his mission. I have had nightmares, some of the worst nights of sleep [or lack of sleep] as the ‘what if’s’ shift and shuffle in my mind.

I say all of this because it’s my experience, but it is not the truth. I woke up this morning dazed by the glow of my phone, desperate for only God Himself. I tried- focused, waited, listened for a word and everything felt forced. I clicked my phone off. I waited.

Nothing.

But, it isn’t the truth. My cloudy experience isn’t the truth. If there is one thing I know to be true, it’s that the sun is always burning bright, and something is going to break through-- whether the clouds have to move, or the entire earth itself, I will see the sun again.

In the beginning I usually drug myself-- with media, or facebook, or bad food. However, the more times I experience grief, ever changing as it is, nothing surprises me about it and that helps me navigate. Maybe I’m in no place to write a blog on connecting with God, but as I sat in my bed this morning I just took a little time to tell myself the truth. Then I thought to myself, “I’m going to be okay.” Now, I know that, and I thought to myself that maybe some reader-of-my-blog doesn’t know that. Maybe you are in grief, feeling suddenly like God has scorned you or left you because of that heavy cloud. You will be yourself, maybe a different version of yourself, but you will begin to feel normal again.

In the meantime,

1) Keep worship going. I listen to worship every day. But in grief, sometimes hooking that speaker up to my phone and putting one song on feels impossible. Not only that, but it occupies my phone so I can’t drown the world out. Still, once I push through and have the melodies pouring into the atmosphere, I feel better.

2) Read truth. I know that reading the Bible feels like an advanced Sudoku puzzle right now. Just open up the Psalms and pick one verse- just one, anything that comforts you. I know that whatever you read will feel like a giant lie. Just take a deep breath and entertain the idea that you are loved by God. You don’t have to write a sermon on it, but reach deep inside of you for that gift of faith and put it to work. You don’t have to understand or feel truth, but you can still believe it.

3) Read/ watch testimonies. This is something I love to do. If you know me, you have probably received videos of testimonies in a message on facebook. I watch them and get excited, and feel like anyone I know should watch them, too. I love hearing what God is doing in other’s lives because it reminds me of His nature, and brings peace to my heart. I get on youtube, and search Heidi Baker, Todd White, Daniel Kolenda, and of course, Bethel.

4) Share someone else’s faith. Yesterday on facebook, someone wrote in a status, “God loves you. Even if you don’t feel it, you are so loved.” It was written by a woman who I know has a deep well with God, and her simple little word touched me. I have been reading encouraging prophetic words about America, and about the end times, and the presidency, and it fills me with hope. I read about people who have been to Heaven and back. Right now, I am reading an incredible book my Shawn Bolz that is reawakening my heart. Faith and hope are intricately connected (Faith is the substance of things hoped for!), so if you want your faith back, you have to hope again.

5) Be vulnerable. When Paul’s parents died, I was still new to Redding. A friend from our hometown called me about 4 weeks later and said she had waited to call until the “dust settled.” Except I was home every day, alone, dying slowly. I really thought I was dying. I burst into tears and told her how I was really doing. She immediately called an older lady she had known in Redding, who called me that same day. I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me. She asked if she could pray over me. I kept on with my daily chores with the children, and she prayed over me for 15 minutes. Then she came over and folded my laundry. She sat with my kids when Paul was working one night, and I came down with an awful virus. When we had to move two months after Paul’s parents died, I called this lady in desperation. I don’t even know her anymore, but I will never forget her impact on my life in that season. Here in Kerrville, I have a wonderful community of close friends I have called multiple times and processed. It feels so good to process. Just get it out, the good, bad, and ugly. Depression is a stage in grief, but let it be a stage, not an ongoing life experience. Been there, done that.

I hope this helps someone in a cloudy season. Partly I am writing to myself so I can transition out of this funk. There is truly a light at the end of the tunnel, and forgive the cliche, but, it’s the Son. It’s Jesus. He will come through.

Building Strong Siblings Takes Sobriety

Recently, my sister watched all three of my children. She is a police officer, and has no children of her own. She kept voicing, “I can’t do this," and I was surprised she felt unprepared. I told her, “The hardest part of your day with them will be the uttered words, ‘I had it first’ because you’re gonna have to administrate justice. The good news is, you are a police officer! This is what you get paid to do!” She said, “I only know how to handle drunk people!” I assured her, “You will be great at working with children, then!” Children at odds with one another are highly emotional, irrational, and selfish beings. Often times, the rest of the world melts away as they battle for justice on their own behalf.....they may or may not be guilty. They are little drunk people. And, the best thing anyone can offer a drunk person is sobriety. That’s you, the parent-- you’re cool, and calm, and dispelling their drama is not near to death as they have imagined.

I have young children and they argue from time to time, but they have become relatively independent in how they dispel their disagreements. The “MOOOOM!!!” cry has nearly diminished. Even now, all three of them are busy playing kitchen in the living room. Anyone who spends time with my children knows they not only love one another, but they actually prefer one another as playmates. I know many parents who complain their household is at war with one another, and maybe we just birthed a good batch? I don't know. I do know we have intentionally helped them to build relationships with one another, and the fruit is oh-so-sweet. Here are a couple tools in our toolbox:

1) Speak into their identities as siblings.

Since the day my kids began sharing toys, I told them, “You two are the best of friends. You guys play great together.” Over dinner I would ask Sonora, “Who is your best friend?” and she would answer, “Jake!” Then we’d switch, and I’d ask Jake the same question. My children absolutely adore one another. Whenever they are at odds, I appeal to their friendship, “Jake, you know Sonora loves you. Do you really think she meant to hurt you?” Or I may open with, “You guys play so well together. What happened?” Most of the time, I am responding to a dog fight, and after I leave, they are back to being a pack.

Adding a third child to the mix has been challenging. Here’s what I say to them when she’s driving them bonkers, “She’s just 2 years old.” She’s not mean, she’s not annoying, she’s not wrong, SHE’S TWO. When I hear the “MOOOM!” call from Jake, usually it’s followed by, “Cori’s being a 2 year old!” That’s code for naughty. It eliminates the bad association because Cori will not be 2 forever! Hooray for that!!

2) Set boundaries with younger children. 

While Jake and Sonora are the best of friends, we are still teaching Cori to interact with them. She is 2 1/2 after all. There are many times she camps outside their door, weeping because she wishes she were playing with them. Sometimes I tell them they need to make room for her, but only when I am available to watch and wait. When I let her in, I know it will not end well. That is also how she learns, though. She goes in, plays nice, decides to do something naughty, and she gets escorted off. This is training. This is good.

I do allow Jake and Sonora to lock their door, usually no more than 15 minutes at a time, to keep Cori out. I don’t make them get along with her when she’s feisty, because well, little drunk people don’t make good playmates.

3) Mommy is just another name for ‘referee’

When Jake and Sonora began playing together, I taught them phrases like, “Are you okay?” Or, “What happened that hurt you?” I want them to sort out their own stuff. If they can’t figure it out, COME GET MOMMY. Some parents allow their children to work it out on their own, but I would rather take the time to help guide their dialogue before it escalates (or spirals, rather) into absolutely broken-hearted chaos. Almost always I am solving a “I had it first” battle, in which case, if no one backs down and tells the truth, I set a timer for 5-10 minutes. Whoever is holding it in that moment gets 5 minutes, and when my phone buzzes, the toy gets passed off. If a toy is a repeat offender, it gets put in time out-- on top of the fridge.

If it’s a “She took that from me” issue, my first question is “Who does that belong to?” I ask a lot of questions,  because drunk people are consumed with emotion and often times they just need words, darn it. Just some common sense. Some other good starter questions are: “Do you think it’s okay to take someone else’s toy?" “How would would you feel if someone took your toy?" Usually someone will began stuttering (See? Drunk!) “B-b-b-b-ut, it’s Jake’s, b-b-b-but he said I could play with it.” Then I will ask Jake, “Did you tell her she could play with it?” Then Jake responds, “W-w-w-well, I said she could, but then she added a piece to my truck and I told her I didn’t want a red piece on the truck.” Then, I step back and let them take over the conversation. I interject when necessary. My goal for them is healthy communication, therefore re-connection. The funny thing about these little disagreements is most of the time, both of them are right. Questions directed at them help shed some ego-- I don’t want to know what the other person did, what did THEY do?

When the 2 year old is stealing toys or wrecking Lego creations, my children are instructed to ask her to stop ONE TIME. If she refuses to listen, COME GET MOMMY. There is just no reasoning with a 2 year old. I don’t expect them to engage in battle with her. One day, she will be a contributing member of society, we all assure ourselves of this golden age. When I come to retrieve her, I find out what happened (usually a sea of stuttering, practically another language) and then I get down on Cori’s level and tell her, “We don’t throw Lego’s.” Then I pick her up, and remove her from the room.

4) Allow your children special treasures.

Sharing is another learned skill. When I am enforcing a rule of sharing, I make sure my children know that all of their gifts/toys come from God, and if it’s producing bad fruit in their life, it can disappear while they are sleeping. OR, they can be kind and let their sibling borrow it for awhile. It’s a great skill- it teaches them to put others above themselves, and it teaches them to trust one another. If you want your children to be friends, trust is a great foundation to that.

That being said, everyone in this house is allowed “untouchables.” Personally, I don’t like my children to touch my makeup. That is mine, not theirs. It can get broken easily (ask me how I know). Each of our children are entitled to 2-3 toys that they do not, under any circumstance, have to share. These are usually toys we pre-establish, so no one gets to pull that card when we are re-hashing the “I had that first, argument!” For Jake, he builds special Lego creations and no one is allowed to touch those. Everyone in this house knows those are off limits. When we have friends over, we put them away, or put a blanket over them.

On one hand, you have sharing-- teaching children to value others. But then, stewarding-- teaching children to value themselves. Both are important skills.


5) Respect is a requirement. 

Sometimes our sister wakes us up before we’re ready, and bed time just does not come soon enough. It makes for hard days. Sometimes, we hope to have cereal, and wake up to a milkless refrigerator. There is so much grace for the grouch in this house...especially since there are 6 of us, and there is almost always a grouch among us. Lashing out of grouchiness does not always mean a spanking. Sometimes it means getting put in time out (in Cori’s case, ‘no fun time’ is the crib). Sometimes it means getting our toy put in time out. Sometimes it means talking to God and having Him help us sort out our trauma. There are about a million tools in the toolbox for diffusing grouchiness, and they should be used accordingly. But, blatant disrespect (cruel name calling, hitting, pinching, biting-- you name it), intending to cause harm, will result in a spanking.
For you to understand how often we deal with these situations, let me say the last time Jake was spanked was probably 6 months ago. Sonora, probably a year ago. Cori, probably in the last month. With early consistency, spankings drop off to once or twice a year.

That being said, you don’t have to spank-- just make sure you notice disrespect, and deal with it right away. Make it a “no negotiation” deal in your house.

6) Advice for the little ones: Practice makes progress. 

If your children are too young to have these little conversations, your job is consistency. If they are engaging with their sibling, leave the dishes behind. Sit with them. Tell them how wonderfully they are playing together. Commend them if they share. Don’t be above bribery- if they hold out their favorite fluffy elephant to brother, tell them how sweet sharing is, and give them a sweet chocolate chip. They don’t know what “I’m sorry” means, but don’t let it keep you from teaching it to them anyway. I love when my friend and I hang out and our two year olds say “Sowwy....f’give me?” to one another. They don’t know what they’re saying, but they are still associating it with a correction from mommy.



Please know, that if you gave your once only child a sibling or two or three, you did them an enormous favor. If they are yelling at one another, they are doing you an enormous favor. I know that is hard to believe, but any time you are playing the “he said, she said” game, you are all learning how to be respectful human beings. Next time that blood-curling scream echoes from the upstairs, take a deep breath. This is Communication 101, and let’s face it, half of America opted out of this class. In this class, we learn to value others, and value ourselves. Plant yourself onto your knees and smile, calmly say, “You guys were playing so great! What happened?”

My parting tip does not just apply to sibling rivalry, but a range of situations. I did not come up with this, but since putting it into practice, it has revolutionized how I parent my children.

Know the difference between childhood foolishness, and rebellion.

Childhood foolishness receives a correction.
Rebellion receives discipline.

Most rivalries appear as a match to the death. Mostly, it is just childhood foolishness. It doesn’t need spankings. It doesn’t need a time out. It just really needs a sober person to help children process.

If sobriety is out of the question, and rebellion ensues (hitting, or throwing) then start thinking about timers and time- outs.

And, here’s another freebie. If someone refuses to relinquish their grouch, and willingly sits in the room, don’t be afraid to have a lot of fun. Turn up some music, and get your groove on! Grouch will guaranteed poke their head out, “What’s all this?” Just tell them, “This is what people get to do when they’re having fun with one another! Wanna try?” BIG SMILE, now. Unity is just so much fun.

The Burden of Perfection

One of my greatest complications in Christianity is religion. Most Christians believe sin to be the greatest complication in the Christian life, but actually, it's abdicating your position in grace and taking on religion. Paul scolds the Galatians on this double-minded act, saying that returning to religion cuts us off from Christ Himself (Galatians 5:4). We are a people who need grace.

I have written before on my fear of raising children who do not know God, and there confessed my intention to brainwash them into belief. Even though I know it will not succeed, I still have this idea in my head, time and time again, of what stewarding my children in a relationship with the Lord looks like. Many times it is dictated by what I see others doing: family prayer time, daily devotionals, Bible curriculums, and all the quirky ways we find to make God fun and real, and not just everything, like He should be. Still, recently I was asking the Lord to forgive me for not “keeping up” with reading my children the Bible. I asked the Lord to forgive me for not being present with my kids every moment that He called me to, due to distraction and duty. I asked Him to forgive me for giving up on family worship after several failed attempts. I lay my heart broken before Him, like a shattered clay pot. I believe God appreciates our brokenness, and if we don't do it sometimes, He'll orchestrate it for us. Christians should be a really needy group of people--and well, we tend to be, but neglect to go to the One who will raise us above our crisis!

I heard Him speak so clearly to me in this moment, “Your perfection was never going to reveal me to your kids.”

There I was, right back in my mess, saturated in His grace, held by His hands, perfected by His sacrifice. There are no excuses sufficient here, just Him.

Truthfully, I have continued to forget consistent Bible time and set aside worship, though I do intend to put them into place. Still, I take comfort that the conversations never stop in this house, the stories we tell, the laughs we share, and even our failures are an ongoing anthem to His goodness, faithfulness, love, and grace. None of these things exist outside of my desperate humanity. Day in and day out, that becomes my ministry to my children.  

I guess its no surprise that my heart is breaking today for the Duggar family. If you know me, you know I love them. I own their books and DVD's, and know their children by name and in order. I've read all the hateful mess about their religiosity but it's never deterred me from their influence because I knew what I believed and what I didn't. In this sex scandal involving Josh, I just see the painful repercussions of religion. Pride in the law, an incompetence to comply, and a desperate desire to not be found out. Sin always gets found out. What a mess. Furthermore, I feel for his wife, who I am assuming is held by the throngs of religion. How painful to embrace a man-made salvation, and yet, be expected to offer up forgiveness, a selfless, supernatural act.

I do not want to judge their position in Christ, as I've watched them long enough to know their faith is of great value to them. I still want to say to Josh, to anyone living in secret sin,

The blood of Christ is enough:

To cleanse you from all impurity.

To deliver you from addiction.

To empower you to live beyond temptation.

To seat you in Heavenly Places, with your righteous Father. None of us have righteousness apart from Him.

Unless of course, we cut ourselves off.

Your perfection will not reveal the Lord to anyone. But, in your imperfection, surrender your life to Christ. Let Him gaze upon the mess you have got yourself in-- He already sees it, and He's already dealt with it. Confess.

Now, the test: Receive His love apart from your performance. I know religion has told you that punishment must ensue, but Jesus did not come to condemn. He came to love. If you remember the most rehearsed scripture next to John 3:16 (For God so loved...), 1 Corinthians 13 tells us, “Love keeps no record of wrongs.”

There is also the topic of forgiveness which we must be willing to ask for. We will never understand forgiveness if we are working to secure our own salvation. It will feel like that too must be earned. Forefront of the message of grace is forgiveness!

The thing about perfection is we can almost taste it! It feels so close. In our best laid plans, our imagination, a committed realtionship to God, and our volunteer hours added up, it can feel like we've almost made it. We've almost earned His love.

But, if any of this was done in our own strength, we wouldn't need Him. God is not needy, by the way. However, His heart is moved by our dependence on Him. After all, He gave everything to to bring us back into His presence, it would be a tragedy if we turned away and vowed to get there on our own.

Well, I have given up on that. I need God so badly. Especially today, and even more tomorrow. When we submit to this process, we began the true journey of being perfected in Him. Not living a lie of religious perfection, but simply submission, a broken pot in His hands. He gazes upon us, not as a broken vessel, but as a finished product, holy, redeemed by grace, and dearly loved. It is only in our humanity do we find a need for grace. We shouldn't fear it. We shouldn't allow it to shame us. We definitely shouldn't dwell on it. When any of us find ourselves drowning in desire or stirred in anger, we have a blessed invitation to a great exchange. Sometimes it happens every day, I hold up my mess to Him. It can be painful to have nothing more to give this good Father- just humanity, just mess. Let me tell you though, it doesn't surprise Him. He is Love, and Love keeps no record of wrongs. He is patient and Kind. He believes and hopes always. He doesn't give up. He designed us to need Him. He designed us to need love. Religion and performance will cheat you of receiving genuine love.

You'll never understand that Love never fails until you fail. You'll never understand that love never gives up until you keep failing, and it's still there. You'll never understand that the greatest of all things is love until it becomes a literal life force, and suddenly your new life in Christ becomes a realistic realization, and it wasn't that you kept trying harder to be good, but that His goodness came to your rescue every single day and it is always enough.

In Regards to my Facebook Fast

Recently I took the plunge and accepted a 40 day Facebook fast.

I was spending way too much time social networking, and it would be an embarrassment to even divulge the details. My phone could have been an additional appendage, though.

My husband would tell me. My kids would tell me. I would see it in other people and think, "It is so annoying that they won't put their phone down." I was fully aware of the log in my own eye, lemme tell you! The reality stung.

I justified my facebook use by confessing my love for people. If I had my way, I would be out with living, breathing [adult] people every day. But, at least half of the week, I'm doing the mom-thing in my dirty house in dirty pajamas, doing the dirty work of teaching little people to be respectful, honoring, decent human beings. It's not CEO work, and certainly not profitable in the natural, but I believe in my life's work and that's why I'm not complaining, but just being honest. Giving up facebook for 40 days was something I thought would be impossible for me, but I began to see how it was hindering my relationship with God. A message to a friend and quick response would comfort my soul and supersede my need for God. I began to loathe this tendency. I would tell my husband, "Just hide my phone! Please!" But he would respond in wisdom, "Why don't you just get victory over this instead of running from it?" Truly, this facebook fast has become a "false comfort fast"

There have been themes in my life confronting issues: running, avoiding, and distracting myself. Surrendering facebook for a season was no different, and I put it off for a long time. Sometimes pursuing freedom hurts at first. Before we have freedom in an area, we have to take authority over it, and before we have authority over it, we have to face it. Often times, it's bigger than us; it's a Goliath and we are called to stand before it in our own wimpy strength and by FAITH, that means have confidence that, God is working in us and through us to defeat what we are facing. It looks like a giant, feels like the impossible, and is literally just submission. That's why David is the MAN! No worries, though. God calls people who instinctively run away to do His work too, like Elijah, and Peter, and Jonah.

Many have come to me and asked, "How's it been off Facebook?" As if I've been traveling overseas, or doing something marvelous and beneficial! How's it been?

Well, it's been easy. Giving up Facebook has been easy because I really love Jesus and I was wanting to give him anything and anywhere I sought comfort outside of His presence. His grace for this season has been sweet and all sufficient, just as He promises. However, intentionally holding up a mirror to my life and allowing every flaw to show, without my favorite anesthetic (*ahem* facebook!) has been most difficult. I am exposing and attempting to rid myself of false comforts every day: nit-picky food planning, spending money, saving money, obsessive cleaning, needing people to validate me, and sugar (I also gave up sugar for 40 days). I have kept a way cleaner house, been diligent about dishes being done, and purged at least two bedrooms of clutter and reordered them completely- and yet, perfectionism is just another false comfort in my life that I am submitting to God.

I discovered something about myself on this fast: I eat standing up. I hide out in a little corner in my kitchen on my phone, standing up. I try to sit down with the baby, and she cries, so I stand up some more. I never sit down. I never rest. God is showing me this great and magnificent Spirit realm where I can enter in to His throne room, and I'm all like "YES, TAKE ME THERE!" Then He tells me, "Okay, just rest." Then, I'm instinctively thinking, "Where's my phone? Where's my false comfort IV? Where's my instant gratification?" It doesn't exist and that hurts. The reality though, what He offers is what I was created for. It's the real deal. I MUST HAVE IT AT ANY COST. I am starting to see, to feel, to tap into something real and tangible that is not simply an IV pouring false comfort into my body, but life in the Spirit that actually renews me day by day. I am yet to attain it fully, but I am learning to rest. I am learning that resting is not counter-productive, but a lifestyle of communion with God.

That is all I can explain right now because my pea brain is still absorbing, while my Spirit is bursting and waiting for brain to catch up. Meanwhile, soul is saying, "Hurry! Get this! I need rest!"

Process is so good. I don't want to be addicted to facebook or any other false comfort, I want to be addicted to having my life renewed.

"For your new creation life is continually being renewed into the likeness of the One who created you; giving you the full revelation of God." Colossians 3:10 (TPT)

"In the same way you received Jesus our Lord and Messiah by faith, continue your journey of faith, progressing further into your union with him! Your spiritual roots go deeply into his life as you are continually infused with strength, encouraged in every way. For you are established in the faith you have absorbed and enriched by your devotion to him!" Colossians 2:6-7 (TPT)


With that being said, in 15 days or so I will be back on Facebook. I am sorry to all of my friends that I have missed your birthdays. To my friends that I have missed your anniversaries. To my friends who have had victories and sorrows, and I wasn't there to share. There is truly so much to celebrate about facebook. There is so much good, so much love and fellowship, iron sharpening in debate, and a camaraderie that spans many miles and seas. Facebook was never the issue in itself, but my own heart. I hope to be back and appreciate all the goodness that Facebook is without using it as an IV in my life to avoid resting or for means of false comfort. I also hope to be a better friend to others, not reaching out for my own validation, but in genuine care and concern. I realize I cannot give what I don't have, and since I desperately want to see all enter into wholeness and freedom in Christ, I cannot afford to attack with intensity any area in my life that is not submitted to God. Attack with intensity, it truly is this, but the application in my own life has been resting. THE IRONY, it brings a big smile to my face.

I will sum this up with a Todd White quote that I cannot stop thinking on, "All God is asking you to give up is who you were never meant to be in the first place." It really is easier than you think.

An Addendum to Discipline: Kindness

My previous blog was about discipline, and a need for sternness. This is is a continuation to that subject, but written on kindness. At first, the two topics seem unalike. However, the terms kindness and sternness might well be like tandem oars on a row boat, one pulling, one pushing, with a shared and desired destination. So while I wholeheartedly encourage any parent to pull your ‘no’ card from time to time, you will row in but a circle without your second oar of kindness.

I have often heard the verse quoted, “His kindness leads us to repentance.” [Romans 2:4] I love this scripture and saw its truth play out wonderfully yesterday.

My five year old was playing a personal defense attorney like only a five year old can, advocating she deserved a gummie treat before dinner. I pulled my ‘no’ card. She preceded to scream and inform me that life is unfair, specifically that dessert following a meal is a ludicrous idea, and we should all be free in life to enjoy dessert whenever we darn well wish- in other louder, shriller, tear-filled words.

I empathized with her, and to appease her suffering, I offered ONE gummie if she ate dinner. She agreed, until I served dinner. Apparently this was “not her favorite.”

She was sitting across from me picking apart life’s injustices related to dessert, expressing distaste towards dinner, reminding me that she had reminded me not to make this food again, and continuing to ask for a gummie just in case I had changed my mind. I finally told her, “That’s enough” and she thundered down the hallway in a huff. I followed her there once I had finished eating, condemned her attitude, but sympathized with her overall dilemma of not enjoying the food I had made. I offered to fix her a bowl of rice, without the topping. She thanked me and hugged my neck.

Off we went to the kitchen, and I slid the bowl of salted rice across the table. I went back to my motherly duties while she ate alone- unfortunately that is a natural consequence of storming off in a tantrum while the family eats dinner. She sought me out several minutes later and asked jubilantly, “HEY MOM! Now can I have my gummie?”

I sighed, “Of course you can.” I grabbed out the container of homemade strawberry gummies and though our agreement was for one, I scooped out two and placed them in her palm. She beamed, “TWO? Thanks, Mom!” I grabbed her in my arms and kissed her forehead, thankful the tantrum in its entirety seemed to be through with.

Until, I went to clear off the table, and her bowl was still mostly full of rice! I audibly gasped, and covered my mouth, “You lied to me.” I stared at her as she stuffed the second gummie into her mouth.

She froze. “Mommy- I just, I just-”

“We had a deal,” I told her.

Tears began streaming down her face, “I’m so sorry, Mommy. I’m so sorry, Mommy. You have to forgive me! I will never do that to you again.”

I was hurt, but stunned by the words coming out of her mouth. None of them were orchestrated or coerced by me. It was pure repentance- which is a golden currency in children, one we should store up in their little hearts. Except gold has great value, and a pure repentant heart is absolutely priceless. It is a most worthy goal. Not for the pain it produces- because tears streaming down my little girl’s face are not moments I enjoy, but for the humility that is cultivated in an honest apology. Once humility is present, it removes the self-defensive nature and you have two raw, vulnerable individuals with their hearts exposed. This is a good time to embrace, and rub noses, and forgive quickly.

I heard the Lord whisper in that moment, You were kind to her, and I re-envisioned the 2 gummie hand off. Kindness produces repentance.

I gave her more than our deal. More than she had imagined for herself, or even sought to barter for. She didn’t deserve it. In fact, I went out of my way to appease her selfish, haughty attitude. Yes, ME. The same mother who wrote a blog on necessary discipline. If we want to see fruit in our children, we cannot discipline apart from kindness. Recently I read a passage in the Bible that touched my heart.

 It is part of Exodus 34. Moses is asking the Lord, “Please show me your greatness!” Oh, I love that. He wants to see God. He has already had the pleasure of talking to God as a friend, but he wants to SEE God. Of course, God tells him ‘no’ because it will kill him (God pulled a ‘no’ card!). God speaks His own name, and says, “I am the Lord. The Lord is a God who shows mercy and is kind. The Lord doesn’t become angry quickly. The Lord has great love and faithfulness. The Lord is kind to thousands of people. The Lord forgives people for wrong and sin and turning against Him. But the Lord does not forget to punish guilty people...” [Exodus 34:6-7]

I want to hear the Lord speak this to me audibly. In the meantime, I just close my eyes and imagine His great and majestic voice singing this declaration of His character: “THE LORD IS A GOD WHO IS KIND.” Again (also referencing Romans 11:22), we have this human perceived dichotomy of extravagant mercy and kindness from a God who will also discipline guilty people.

I do not want to do kind things for my children. I want kindness to consume my character towards them. I want kindness to be the backdrop to every lunch I make, room I demand get cleaned, and even when I discipline. In one of my favorite parenting books, “Loving the Little Years,” Lizzie [the author] tells the story of divers who search for gold underneath the ocean. They are looking for tiny particles of gold dust, of which they collect and later sell by the weight. She draws a brilliant analogy from this, saying that parenting is like dusting your children with this gold. I don’t remember her wording exactly, but she contrasts it to one giant hunk of gold. Our job as parents is to sprinkle our children with “gold dust,” little bits of sacrifice for them, praise, kindness, and simply our presence. There are parents not present at all, or ones that refuse to tame their tempers - only to drop a hunk of gold in a child’s lap when the guilt sets in, like a new toy, or a trip to Disneyland. While none of these gifts are necessarily wrong, apart from kindness, it is all simply fool’s gold. A child not sprinkled with gold will grow old enough one day to call the bluff of extravagance not anchored by the daily grind of love in action, or kindness.

Unfortunately, kindness does not guarantee good kids any more than discipline does. I have read enough of the Bible to know this. I have looked in the mirror, too. God is the portrait of perfect kindness, and humanity, in its flawed nature, does not always respond to kindness. Ah, but in humility, when we see ourselves for what we really are, and then what God has made us through Christ and grace, His kindness is a balm for all the wrong we have ever done, or will ever do. It is indeed, an anchor, that pulls us back into God’s heart.

With our children, a lifestyle of kindness is what allows us to discipline well, play hard, love
much, and yes, mess up and still maintain relationship. Ultimately, kindness removes performance from our children, encouraging humility and inviting repentance. It promotes trust, seals our affections, and displays the heart of God alongside discipline. If we need inspiration, we need only look up, to the One who is endlessly kind to His children!

The Problem with America is Bad Parenting

I love my country. I am one who sings about America on non-celebratory holidays. This last National Prayer Day I took time to intercede periodically, and read prophecies for America. If you know prophets, they have a tendency to be black or white. Basically, “The people are going to repent and we’ll see an outpouring of the Spirit of God or God will remove His hand of favor and we’re in big trouble.” I, too, believe we are at an enormous crossroads, and I want to forge a path towards victory by prayer and good parenting!

Allow me to explain. On National Prayer Day, I was feeling a little judgmental.  While standing in the gap for this country, it takes a lot of intentional focusing on God to not feel a little slimy. The church and secular culture alike has given way to the slime. I am embarrassed to ask for God’s mercy, and yet, when I’m focusing on Him that’s what I hear Him calling me to do- mercy for us all.

During the day, my 2 year old asked for a glass of water. To cut down on dishes, we typically have a communal glass I refill multiple times a day. When you don’t own a dishwasher, communal cups and meals served on coffee filters are not uncommon. Anyway, my 2 year old said, “all gone,” and just as she held the glass out to me, it slipped through her sticky fingers and shattered on our tile floor. I really shouldn’t be allowed a tile floor. In either case, there went our 14th glass. I commanded my 2 year old to STAY on the bench while I slipped on shoes and returned to clean up the mess. My kitchen floor is horribly abandoned, and broken glasses are great excuses to sweep. As I went about it, my 2 year old noticed a cardboard tile from the dismantled Game of Life being swept into the dust pan and she began to fight for it with great toddler zeal, “MINE!”
I told her “No. It is mixed with glass and I will not get it. You have lots of tiles. Can I find another for you when I finish this?”

She leapt off the bench to throw her half naked body into the pile of glass, “MINE!” I lifted her from the pile without a scratch. In that moment, I heard the Lord, “This is the problem in America.”

What?

Bad parenting. 

I hauled my 2 year old to “no fun time,” aka her crib, and came back to finish my job. The scene replayed in my head, my 2 year old tossing herself into a pile of glass for a LIFE tile, of which we have 30 hiding around our house. I could clearly see the danger, and yet, she had focused her narrow eyes on something minuscule. I thought about our slimy culture, the one I was praying for mercy upon, and what the Lord was trying to show me clicked: no one wants to hear the word NO.

But if you want your children to know God for all of their days, that word is going to come up. And they are going to have to decide how they feel about it.

How does our ego feel about that word?

Well, it’s a Bible word, and it’s packed with power and fire. It burns. When the word is spoken it is either ignored- with a heap of excuses. Or received- and it produces refinement.

I love giving my kids choices, and letting them operate in freedom. I love allowing consequences to give lessons. Still, I say ‘no’ sometimes, because that’s what God does. Standards are part of God’s nature, and it’s our place as parents to reflect that in a healthy manner to our children so they will receive the refinement, and not reject its purpose.

Here are some thoughts I have on when to use that word, and how to use it to draw your kids closer to God, and not away from Him.

1) Using “no” establishes your authority as a parent. Feel free to throw that back on God like so, “God told me that as your parent, I’m in charge of teaching you to be a kind and loving human being. Right now, what you’re doing is not appropriate because...” Keep in mind, God is the perfect authoritarian. I love the verse in Romans that says, “Notice God is both kind and severe.” You’re not a perfect parent, but you can capture the concept by speaking the truth in love. Sometimes the truth is, “No, you can’t do that,” and it’s because you love them. Don’t forget to explain that part, not just in words, but by spending time with your kids doing the things they love to do.

2) Get out of way. This is one of my core beliefs, and it just worked like a charm. My daughter has been getting into a Disney show that began showing witchcraft themes. We expose our kids to Disney movies and are pro-princess culture, right? But, I have gone through deliverance as a result of the spirit of witchcraft in my past, and I never want that for my kids. I am wary of themes in media that make witchcraft look healthy and normal. This show began teetering on that and my discernment was swirling. Whenever I see witchcraft in a movie, let’s say the movie Brave for example, we will sit down multiple times and I will tell my children, “Witchcraft is bad. It does not honor God. There is no such thing as a good witch.” My kids probably recite this in their sleep because we allow them freedom while laying a foundation of truth. Still, we have a discernment lead standard.

     In this last situation, I really did not want to take the show from my daughter because I could see her heart was completely innocent. Still, the devil did not deserve a foothold. I took my own advice and decided to pull out my ‘no’ card.

      Right away, she put up a fight, “BUT WHY???”

      Remember, this is not a “because I said so,” deal. I explained this show had crossed the line.

      Still, “But Moooom!!” I decided to make a deal with her. I said, “Get into the secret place and ask God if you can watch it. If He says you can, I’ll let you.”

     [With my oldest son in the background hollering, "I already asked God and he said NO." I'm not condoning his holier than thou approach!]

     She sighed, “I don’t think I’m going to watch it anymore...it's just too much magic for me.”

    The atmosphere changed and she gladly chose another show. Later she was playing a Disney game on the I-pad and she came to tell me, "I tried playing a game from that show, buuuuut I turned it off because I saw the same magic in it that was in the show."

     Oh my heart. I gave her the biggest hug and reassured her, "You are going to change the world, girlfriend."

3) Save your ‘no’s’ for life or death situations. God doesn’t say ‘no' for the sake of being harsh, but because He sees the glass. And that 100% includes moral dilemmas. Immorality leads to death, and unlike your child falling off a cliff and resting in the arms of Jesus, the kind of death sin leads to is separation from God. Always take the time to say ‘no’ to unkindness, violent sibling rivalry, lying, stealing, cursing and the likes. There are so many opportunities for positive parenting and redirecting. In fact, many parenting approaches now discourage the word ‘no’ and instead tell you to say, “How about this instead?” That’s all fine and good, but when there sin is involved, I take the time to tell my kids ‘no'.

4) Show them the glass. Explain to them unkindness (or whatever the offense was) leads to a lonely life with no friends. Remind them how stepping on glass feels, in other words, how it felt when someone was unkind to them. Help pull them up, guide their eyes away from the chaos to two people, them and their sibling, or friend, or even YOU. Pull them up, and pull them out. By this, I mean, what’s in their heart? Were they offended? Angry? Hurt? Scared? Most naughty behavior stems from these places. Bad fruit has a root. Have them make appropriate amends for the fruit, but you and them and God need to deal with the root.


Now speaking of roots, the lack of the word 'no' in our culture is not the only cause for corruption.

But roots are.

Roots are deep and broad and can rarely be seen above the surface. Yet, they produce a variety of fruit, both sweet and sour. Let’s speak on the sour though: lying, cheating, addiction, perversion, money-worship, fame-worship, all of this and more, traced back to a root. Roots are typically unmet needs. They flourish when we believe lies that help us to cope with the shame and fear that follow a lifestyle of coddling our unmet needs, as opposed to healing them through Godly identity.

Some parents are really good at saying ‘no’. In fact, I heard a mother at the park several days ago who was especially good at it, with a couple curse words thrown in, and a slap. Certainly when I promote telling our children 'no,' this is a non-existent item on my agenda. America has a problem because her people are lacking their Godly identity, which is meant to be reflected by loving, firm, kind, severe, patient, persistent, consistent parenting.

The reason kids, including God’s grown up kids, do not appreciate hearing 'no' is because they learned from their parents that it wasn’t a good thing. 'No' meant punishment and discipline and being wrong. 'No' meant you don’t get your way.

There are higher and better ways to use the word 'no' in our children’s lives. Ways that will burn away human nature {yes, sometimes that isn’t pleasant} but will produce sweet fruit, exceptional character, and above all else, a yieldedness towards Godly authority. I pray this fruit for all of your children, and declare that as our children choose to willingly submit to a loving authority, they will be unstoppable as they age. They will become an underground resistance that will rise up in a short amount of time and change the destiny of this country, to forever rest in the favor God gives to all who are faithful, obedient, and desire His righteousness.

Also, here is a sequel to this blog post: Kindness

The Lies the Enemy tells your Children

Once upon a time, we were living in Redding, California. We were regularly attending Bethel Church, my husband in full-time school while I attended conferences and training seminars. We knew who God was and who we were in God, and we knew who the enemy was and where he belonged (beneath our heels).

I have to say, we were a bit bewildered when our children started seeing and hearing demons.

Even more so [bewildered] when we anointed our home, prayed with our children every night, and declared breakthrough with little results. As they sat down for breakfast, I’d ask with a tinge of doubt in my voice,“Did anything talk to you last night?”

It started with our daughter. She frequently met with an old man she called Grandpa. Trust me, I wondered in horror if there was some sort of trauma in her life, but she was homeschooled and rarely with a sitter or family. As time went on, details emerged about this man, about his life, and even how he died! Who was she talking to? Was it a ghost? Did I even believe in ghosts? One morning she ran down the hall in tears, “Mommy! He called me a bad girl, and hit me!”

What? 

“Grandpa told me to stop praying to make him go away because a mean beast will put him in jail!"

As we were piecing through the "Grandpa Occurrence", our normally well behaved son started acting up, hiding in his room and not listening right away. Sometimes you just know when what’s happening “isn’t your kid.” So I asked him what was going on and he cried in my arms, “A demon comes in my room every night and tells me nobody loves you.”

He was seeing demons every night, and began describing their features in ways that made my hair stand on end. Like, where on earth would he make this up from? Sometimes the unseen world is not as unseen as we’d like it to be!

I'm happy to say that we weathered this season alongside a gracious community, and peace has come to our household again! A friend wrote me several days ago, asking for prayers for her son who was being disobedient. She felt like it went beyond normal disobedience and the devil was at work. Her go-to tool was deliverance. It triggered me, and I  remembered Jake’s disobedience. I remember him telling me what he had been hearing, and then I took him in my arms and reassured him, “NOTHING CAN EVER MAKE ME STOP LOVING YOU." The disobedience stopped. Not only that, but I gave him permission to always bring the devil’s dirty lies into the light. From then on, he would tell me when devils were visiting him and I had enough experience to 1) believe him, 2) empower him, and 3) get rid of the demons for good.

First, let me share some of the lies my kids would hear. I have already uncovered a very common one,

1) “You’re Bad.” The devil loves to whisper this in their tiny, vulnerable ears. An overwhelmed parent will confirm it in a heartbeat. Remember, behavior is bad, but a child never is. Make sure they know this about themselves.

Another common lie is this one,

2) “Nobody loves you.” Jake heard this every night for weeks. Slowly, he began to pull away from us. I fought to get him back, on my knees with God, and in my arms with him. We fixed it, and now when I see either of my kids pulling away I drench them with tangible love. Oh, that every child would recognize this lie!

3) “God’s not real.” That’s kind of a funny one, because if God isn’t real, how are demons real? But a pair of red eyes and dark lips appeared in his room every night to tell him this. It’s a good thing Jake was already well versed in what to do at this point. He came to me, and we invited the presence of God to come and cover us. That was easy.

4) “Leave God, and work for me.” My son heard this! Straight from the lips of a monster he said looked like Jabba the hutt. Gross, I know.  I have told my son to not talk with demons, so I’m not sure anything more was said. To counter this, I rolled my eyes.What a cheap shot. I re-told stories of the walls of Jericho coming down, the Red Sea splitting open, Lazarus being raised from the dead, JESUS being raised from the dead, and on and on.

5) "Be afraid." Often times, this is more of a sense than a spoken phrase, but many children are afraid. In fact, I'm an adult, and sometimes things lurking in my house make me feel terrified! My children are rarely scared anymore. Sonora will even proclaim, "Last night I had a bad dream, but I didn't wake you up!" She's welcome to our bedside, and she knows that, but we've taught her what to do with bad dreams: take it up with God.


When it comes to dealing with these real life monsters, it’s true that you can do all the right things, and they still show up. I don’t know why, other than they are liars and they do "illegal" things sometimes. I also think our children can walk in authority on their own, just like God could stomp out every enemy in our path, but instead He hands us the boxing gloves- or, well, the Bible and our will, and says we can take care of it. We tell our kids the truth about good and evil, and equip them to deal with it. Here are some of the ways we have done that in the past:

1) Teach them the truth about who God is. God is very powerful. I love this Bill Johnson quote, “it’s not God versus the devil, or God on one side and the devil on the other. No, God is God, and the devil is a created being.” Enough said.

2) Teach them the truth about who they are. When our kids belong to God, they have the same Spirit living in them as we do. The same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. The same authority that Jesus walked in, our children have access to.

3) Bring darkness into the light. Tell mommy when you “see.” Even when they see angels, we talk about it. It's not shameful, or weird.

4) Do not talk to the demons. They are liars. Tell your kids this: demons LIE. Even if they look like fluffy angels with porcelain faces, if they say something that contradicts God, they are DEMONS and they are LIARS. Make sure your kids know demons can look like angels.

It’s tricky, because angels and demons are both a little scary. Sometimes demons tell you exactly what you want to hear, and angels tell you weird things, like “Holy Spirit is going to overshadow you and you’ll get pregnant.” But, in my experience, most of the angels that have visited my children don’t say much, they’re just guarding windows and doors and sometimes just floating around their room. We need Holy Spirit to navigate this realm. There are experiences I want my children to discern, but I don’t expect them to do it on their own and just right every time. This is why they tell me, because I want to guide them as God guides me.

5) If your kids see into the spiritual realm, this tip has helped the most. I read it on a website that another parent of a “seer" created. The father wrote that he laid hands on his daughter and asked God to “reduce her spiritual antennae.” He admitted he didn’t know how or why it worked, but when you have kids seeing like my son was, it’s an option worth pursuing. So we did. I prayed that God would dial down his gift for a little while, and it helped immensely. In the meantime, I am equipping him to know and understand truth so when we ask God to re-apply the gift, he’ll be ready. For now, no more slime, or long black fingernails, or shark teeth covered legs and arms, or red glowing eyes, or sharp facial hair. I’m so glad!


Seeing is not a special gift limited to my children. Many children can see into the spiritual realm. It's that childlike faith at work, faith believes in what is unseen. I can remember when Jake had a dream "a man was walking down our street with a blanket that smelled like poop." Weird, I know. I mentioned it to several mom friends, and two others reported their kids had come to them and said the same thing! Kids know what's up in the spiritual realm!

In summation, the enemy is going to lie to your children. If they know the truth, it’ll bounce off their ears like a ping pong ball! Hopefully I’ve enlightened you to some of the lies the enemy likes to use. Now, go and do greater things than Jesus! I didn’t say it first, He did!

Don't Brainwash Your Children

I used to hope to GOD I could successfully brainwash my children.

I've seen other cultures do it, and in my opinion, those lead straight to hell. I would use the same training tactics and achieve an opposite, more fruitful success. I was going to brainwash my children to be Christians.

Maybe I didn't use that term then, but I knew what I was doing. Their first words were usually faith centered. I used to light a candle and when one of my toddlers would fumble around their words and make it sound something like a scripture we had rehearsed a billion times, I would let them pretend it was their birthday and blow the candle out. Yippee! Perhaps what fueled my attempts even more was that my husband's parents were devout lovers of Christ, the kind that get down and dirty with the impoverished and drug addicts alike. And yet, they somehow ended up with a couple of rebellious children.

They weren't the only ones. Time and time again I found myself in relationship with mentors who had taught their children scripture (like me), drug them to church every Wednesday and Sunday of the year (like me), hosted family worship (like me), and prayed morning and bedtime prayers like the salvation of those tiny souls depended upon it (like me). These well versed {literally} children are still no where to be found in the church. Their praying parents clinging faithfully to the promises of God their prodigal will return. I am praying with them, with all of my heart.

Somewhere along the way, as I accepted that my children's salvation was not my responsibility, I was able to change the way I parented. Am I ever glad I did.

Just minutes ago two teenage boys stood at my door like statues. "Good evening, Ma'am. It is our pleasure to be here today. To tell you a life giving, encouraging message."

I cut him off, "I'm a Christian. I love Jesus."

He continued in a monotone delivery, "That is great. I am encouraged that your family loves Christ. Our culture is turning away from Christ. I am encouraged. Can I share with you a lifestyle-"

"Seriously. We're really Christians." [Whatever that means.]

"Thank you for your time. Do you know of anyone nearby who could use an encouraging, uplifting message?"

"Those guys." *Points to people down the street* [Don't judge me. You've done it!]

I was homeschooling when they stopped by, and as I shut the door on them I thought, Dear Jesus, don't let me brainwash my children. 

I sat at the table and dropped my head into my hands. My kids caught on.

"What's wrong?"

"Guys," I said, "Mommy needs to pray for those guys." I explained the works-based theology of the kids who came to our door. To which my son asked, "Why didn't we tell them what we believe?"

Good question.

Anyway, we proceeded to pray. We talked to God. We pushed our papers to the side and had a chat with Father.

I do not want to brainwash my kids. I want to lay a foundation for them to walk in, and experience a living faith in our living God. Here are some tips I've figured out along the way:

1) We don't memorize scripture. Why? Because it takes too much time and my kids don't know what they are saying. Don't get me wrong, the Bible has a place in our house. While my kids are young, my goal is that they understand the principle of what is being said. I still read from the Bible while they color or eat a snack, but I don't rehearse the word puzzle with them. Instead of "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." I will tell them, "Just thank God when you pray, you guys. He will give you peace."  I wrote a blog on this, here. We also love Seeds Family Worship on Youtube. Check it out, here.

2) Leave some questions unanswered. Basically, God wants to speak to your children. Give them a chance to go to Him. When my kids lose their socks, I tell them, "Why don't you ask God?" I just don't think it is beyond God to help them find lost crap I don't have time to look for. This is the same God who cleaned feet. One of my kid's asked today, "Where is Heaven?" I told him, "I don't know, ask God." He came back to me with this answer, "God took me to a place that was outside of the universe." That sounds pretty close to how I would have answered the question, had I tried. The children's pastor at Bethel tells the story of how God taught him to tie his shoes as a little boy. Make "Ask God" something you say every day.

3) We cannot put God in a Box. This was one of the most difficult lessons I've had to learn, and am still learning. One of my children is very "spiritual." He sees God and hears God speak-- sometimes audibly. He has come into my room and asked, "You call me?" Uh, no. Then a light bulb goes on, and he says matter-of-fact, "Oh, it must be Jesus."

Yet, I have another child that doesn't experience God like this. She is my artist. She is an intense feeler. I thought I was doing a good thing by teaching my kids to soak, except child #1 is spouting off visions of the third realm and child #2 is crying, "I just can't hear God."

Oh, yes you can, baby. She, like me, is a talker and God is just a built-in listener for her. I think He gets out of the way a lot, and she waits for Him to say something. I tell her to get it all out. He hears her. I draw out the God in her by encouraging her not to just listen, but look. I'll say to child #1, "Ask God to tell you how He protects our family." I'll tell child #2, "Ask God to show you how He protects our family." We all can experience God, and we all should.

4) We confess our mess. I have never pretended for a day that I'm perfect. The good news for aspiring good parents is that I have good kids, and I am not a perfect parent. Yeah! However, God is a perfect God, and we'll only raise good kids if we're pointing them to Him. The number of times I get on my knees and apologize to God and my children is whenever I can. There is a lesson in your mess: it's GRACE. It's His goodness. His mercy. His strength. Your mess is where all the goodest God stuff exists. The message of grace is not an excuse to sin, it's the tool you need to overcome your sin. In your process, let them see that grace culturing fruit in your heart. It's beautiful, and they learn to do it too.

5) Teach them to discern good and evil. I know who you are, and I know how you feel. You want to wrap your children up in a giant bubble and let nothing unclean touch them. You want to scare the crap out of them that sin leads to death. THAT GOD HIMSELF WILL SEND THEM TO HELL. That's in the Bible, true. I prefer to teach my children that evil sends people to Hell. Evil is the absence of God. I try, with the help of Holy Spirit, to prick that bubble on their lives, layer by layer, and let them know that while darkness exists, there is a light inside of them SO BRIGHT- NO JOKE- and it's inside of them. Their light drives out darkness. Their love drives out hate. Hell and Heaven are opposite spectrum, and a good Father with good plans and good gifts is on one side, and a thief is on the other. That is not a scary gospel. That is a good gospel. We have a responsibility to teach our kids about the goodness of the gospel. How can you do that without presenting the truth about the mess that sin creates?

The other day I was telling my kids about my birth father, someone I've hardly known because of addiction. I straight up told my 4 and 7 year old, "Drugs suck. God made a way out of addiction, but its a painful process. There's no way around digging up our brokenness and giving it to God if we want our broken pieces fixed!"

Deep stuff. Real life good versus evil. One time, pro-lifers were picketing. My kids asked what they were doing, and I told them the truth.

"Some mommies get babies in their tummy and they don't think they can take care of them. They pay a doctor to take the baby out before baby is old enough to live on its own. What do you think about that?"

"Is the baby alive?"

"Yup. How does that make you feel?"

"That's so sad."

A friend challenged me once, "Why burden a child with the reality of abortion?"

Because, I want discernment to burn in the heart of a 4 year old. I want her to learn that all of the world's problems have a simple answer: the love of Jesus.

My 7 year old knows what sex trafficking is. We pray expectantly for a solution to this problem. He had a dream of police putting hundreds of orphans in the back of a truck, and finding these kids families. He said they were slaves being rescued. Within a week, the news headlined several hundred trafficked children being rescued, their captors in police custody. God wants to use the prayers of our children to change the world. Like scripture, you don't have to be literal to translate honest principal.

The great commission starts "Go into the world." That's a scary, broken place if you've grown up in a bubble.



Can you believe that the pharisees, the very people TRAINED in the law, which predicted the savior, did not recognize Him. They knew EVERYTHING there was to know about God, and they didn't recognize Him.

I figured it out though. They were brainwashed. Religion is good at that. God created the law to measure our need for Him, and yet, so many saw the law and missed what it pointed to, God Himself. All of the well-meaning checklists we follow to aid in our children's salvation are not bad. We need discipline in the Lord. We need worship. We need the foundation of scripture. But we have to remember {here comes my favorite faith saying} to keep the main thing the main thing.

That's Jesus. 


In that way, if our children don't choose God, they are rejecting Him and He will be in an endless pursuit of their heart. If they reject religion, they're actually just searching for identity. The good news is, God pursues them in that place, too.

This is not a formula. Religious people always want a formula.....now, how would I know that? My kids will still have to make their own decision about God. I just want them to recognize Him. In all of this, that's my goal.

My Testimony

Poet Muriel Rukeyser once wrote, “What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life?

The world would split open." So this is my feeble attempt at shaking the foundation. A glimpse, at least. And above all, an invitation to hope. 

 I was an unplanned baby to a very young, and hopelessly human pair. My father had grown up for part of his life in abusive foster care, and the other part with an adopted family that loved him well. It is my understanding that he was far beyond saving. Even as a young father, he was wrought with bondage and addiction, and had very little contact with me as I grew older. My mother was young, and following a soon-after-marriage divorce, she faced rebuilding her life as a single mother. My sister was the product of an abusive relationship which marks some of my earliest childhood memories, my mother with a bloody nose. Though a rocky beginning, there is a vein of faithfulness that runs through my life and it is my loving, devoted grandparents who kept me most weekends and took me to church. I adore them.

When my sister and I were in the middle of our elementary school years, my mom met a man who is a true to life superhero, AKA our step-dad. He stepped into a sea of uncertainty, really, and decided he could bring us all some peace. Despite his exceptional character, neither him nor my mom practiced a living faith. They had both been wounded by the church, and neither were impressed with the institution's fallibility. Though they were giving, they were not forgiving. Nor do I remember much affection in our home, but chaos. Shortly after my parents married, my mom was diagnosed with a painful, chronic condition known as Fibromyalgia, and I remember her battle with this well. Back then, I didn't know how to love my parents, if only because I desired their love in a tangible way. The problem? We needed Jesus! As the bitterness welled up within, another storm brewed: fear. Darkness became my enemy, and I lay in bed at night petrified to turn my lights out. I was soon medicated for what we learned were panic attacks. Anti-depressants granted me a degree of relief, but fear followed me into much of my adult life.

The good news is, well, the gospel. I came into contact with it while in high school, a friend invited me to youth group. While this gave me a new foundation to build upon, I certainly never dealt with the former (and had no idea that I should). While I was saved, I allowed myself to be consumed by religion. It was in itself an addiction. Grace was not a concept I knew existed, allowing shame to invade at every mishap. Although I was unstable, I was grateful to know God in the facade sort of way I had found to relate to Him. I figured if I were good enough, He would keep loving me, and that was enough.

I have found that facades successfully exist in bubbles, or controlled environments. College demolished mine and introduced me to a variety of moral-less vices that seemed to coat my shame, and increase it all the more. This lead me far from God, who I thought was eager to smite me. While in a toxic, non-committed relationship, a positive pregnancy test at the age of 20 was my rock bottom. Now I know this is the most glorious place to be when one is searching for Jesus!

Glorious is how I would describe this time in my life. In a MOMENT of consecrating my life to Jesus, I was INSTANTLY delivered from entrenched, habitual addictions I had participated in for years. I love instant breakthroughs. In this season, I found myself getting to know and beginning to love my parents, really for the first time in my life. While on the verge of what would have been a violent divorce, they had recently begun to attend church, and Jesus restored their marriage and lives. The timing could not have been better. As I was searching, they had already found, and ushered me right in. I was baptized at 6 months pregnant, along with my entire family! When my son arrived, it felt like he belonged to all of us. At 17 days old, a viscous respiratory virus turned pneumonia threatened to take him. In this, doctors discovered an underlying symptom of acid building in his blood and attributed it to a less common metabolic disorder. The testimony that we have in Jake, our now healthy, WILD with life 8 year old, is that God totally healed him. When he boasts of super heroes that "save the day" I remind him that he is pretty special because he saved my life.

As a single mom, a loving husband was a great desire of my heart. When Jake was 3 months old, I was watching the Lakeland Revival on God.tv and I heard God tell me that I was going to meet a good man who would care for me, and raise my son as his own. Well, I met Paul the very next month! We were married within the year. He found a job selling cars, while I returned to school for youth ministry. Life changed though, as it often does. My husband had a dream about revival coming to California, and he mentioned it once, "You wanna move, maybe?" I was wholeheartedly on board for a great God adventure! In 2009 we made the move. Oh, how I fell in love with this state! However, my heart remained torn as I missed my family. For many years I have navigated the sting of homesickness.

Though my husband has repeatedly given me the most accurate portrait of a Father's heart I have ever seen as I watched him father Jake as his own, we exited the honeymoon stage fast. My fear (remember that mess?) was raging as we took hold of our destinies. I was petrified of the dark. I also warred with frigidity, no doubt related to my lack of fathering in early childhood and memories of sexual abuse. With no hope, so I believed, I explored counseling through our church. With inner-healing, I found freedom like I had never known! I have not been medicated for panic disorder in over 8 years, and have also found total freedom to enjoy intimacy and embrace trust. I share these two victories as I enjoy seeing others set free from these strongholds. The blood of Jesus is indeed mighty to save, and nothing is impossible with our God!

I began volunteering at our local crisis pregnancy center, and visited a community high schools with a team of other volunteers to teach about abstinence, and also what to do in cases of unplanned pregnancy. In all situations, we wanted to inspire hope and offer love to those in pain or confusion. I witnessed hundreds of ultrasounds, and my heart was ruined for justice for the unborn. I was given the opportunity as an Options Counselor to meet with some of the most vulnerable young ladies, and encourage them to choose life for their babies, as I had only several years prior. Though I had certainly found my niche, my husband was feeling the call to attend ministry school. In 2012, we moved our family to Redding, California for my husband to attend Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry. He attended the first and second year program, and it was the experience of a lifetime. While we were attending, we received the devastating news that my husband's parents had been killed in a car accident. Navigating grief in faith is a significant part of our journey, an ongoing journey. I am glad we were in Redding during this process.

As my husband's graduation date approached we both felt the stirring of the Lord to leave Redding. It was a whirlwind, really. God highlighted Texas. If I had time to tell the story, you would see there was no way around it. God brought us to Texas. I drove 5 in-a-row, 8 hour days, with 3 young children in the backseat while I was 7 months pregnant. If that doesn't stamp me as a person of faith, I don't know what will!

So now we are becoming involved in a new church, partnering with a small group to see Heaven manifest right here on Earth, raising four children, and piecing our life back together one day at a time. I homeschool, and my honey waits tables at a prominent country club in this little retirement town we ended up in. I love it here. For the millionth time in my life I can say that God knew EXACTLY what He was doing. Our family has seen God move in extraordinary ways and we expect no less than His goodness, as He cannot help but be a good Father. Hallelujah! I may look like a frumpy housewife (no getting around that) but I believe I am raising up my 4 blessings to CHANGE THE WORLD. Yeah, I have an important calling. We worship and war in the spirit on a daily basis, and stand on a legacy of continued breakthroughs. If you are curious what my parents are up to, they currently rehabilitate minors rescued from sex trafficking. I love them so much. My mom still struggles with her chronic pain, but she is truly victorious in her mindset and her faithfulness to God. I pray she will be healed!

Somewhere in the midst of it, in the "brutiful" life, I am also picking up the pieces of my own humanity and consistently submitting them to Him, who works all things together for my good. I am His fragile clay jar, but the cry of my heart is that He would shape me and use me for his purposes. My daily prayer is, "Empty me God, and fill me with you."

I love to write. I love to drink coffee. I love healthy food. And in my spare time (haha), I love to get my hands dirty, plant seeds, wait on God to do His part, and gather a harvest in due time. It's beautiful, and pretty much the story of my life. Praise be to God!