Most of the people that I hang out with these days are moms of young children. I probably need to work harder at connecting with people in other life stages, but that’s a topic for another post.

 I used to spend a good bit of time with college freshmen. I taught composition and grammar for seven years, and for the most part, I loved it. Freshmen are a crazy bunch, but they are fun incarnate. And as part of their first giant step into adulthood, it was an incredible opportunity and responsibility.

My teaching style was kind of crazy (I talk fast, think fast, move fast, teach fast). I worked hard to be “fun” and still cover my intended topics. We played games and watched movie clips. I let them write papers on almost any topic. I admitted freely that my class was boring, but I tried equally as hard to prove that it was valuable to their future success.

And I did that through what I called my “soapboxes” – the big ideas I wanted them to get, even if they still couldn’t write a paper at the end of the semester. These were my soapboxes: 

Turn your brain on. I challenged them to THINK. God calls us to love Him with our minds, and that means our minds are valuable and necessary tools for interacting with Him and with the world around us. We will always be surrounded by conversations and debates and “pick a side” discussions, and rather than avoid them, we need to bring the Spirit with us into those arenas. We are also constantly inundated with messages, very few of them biblical, and we need Him to give us clarity and wisdom about what we listen to or read or watch. As believers, our faith needs to make our minds stronger, not weaker – should make us better thinkers, not worse.

Be humbly certain of what you believe. I told my student that there are absolutes, things like the deity of Christ that are truths worth dying for. But outside of those handful of absolutes, there are thousands and thousands of ideas and arguments and beliefs to which we don’t know the complete “right” answer. And in those cases, I wanted them to be “humbly certain.” Certain enough that you are willing to argue about it, but humble enough to allow for the possibility that you might be wrong. In other words, think through what you believe, research it, know it, be able to defend it and then share those beliefs but with humility. We have to honestly consider the possibility that we might not have all the information, that there might be more to the issue than we’ve considered. Being “humbly certain” is an attitude that says “I know what I believe, but I will give you a chance to prove me wrong.” And while our opponents will rarely offer a true challenge, we, as finite beings, have to leave open the possibility that we are not always totally right.

Learn to make a good argument. Most people do not argue well. They throw a bunch of ideas together and act like that should convince even the worst sceptic. They have zero logic (or very bad logic) holding together their ideas, and they wonder why people won’t take them seriously. Christians wonder why non-Christians just roll their eyes when they stand up to “make a case” for the topic of the hour. It’s because they can’t argue. And it is not acceptable. We must learn to present what we think well, with good logic and excellent support. And if we can learn to do this, we will quickly move to a position of influence wherever we are. We can actually become the ones whom other people follow because we think and express ourselves well.

Learn to Research Well. Your positions are only as good as the information you use to defend and support them. But most people research as poorly as they argue. We have to know where to get information and then, having found it, how to analyze it. A valuable principle to keep in mind: people are always innocent until proved guilty, but information has to be suspect until proven trustworthy.

And here’s the thing…I’ve been thinking recently how much those soapboxes still apply, even to my current life and the people I know.

I always told my freshmen that they needed to know what they believed and learn how to defend those ideas well. But as moms, we have an even greater responsibility because our ideas and choices and ways of living will have direct influence on our kids and the generation of which they are a part. We have to make our decisions with even greater care, and I wonder how many women are lacking the necessary tools to do this well.  

So I’m going to do my very first blog “series” on this topic. I’ve never done anything like this before, but it’s been brewing in my mind for weeks, and I can’t stop myself now. So here’s the plan – I’m going to go through my soapboxes, one at a time, applying them to moms. How can we use these ideas to figure out what we think and make wise decisions for ourselves and our families? How should we go about getting information for the decisions we are trying to make? And how do we discuss our conclusions without every conversation dissolving into “the mommy wars” again? This is not about the conclusions we come to, it’s about how we get to our conclusions (and how to get there better than we do now).

I hope someone other than me finds these ideas interesting and useful. But if this stuff doesn’t mean anything to you, that’s okay…I’ll write updates about my kids (and my dishwasher) again soon. This area is just very dear to my heart, and I consider it one of the few things I have to offer that very few other can.

So…here comes Soapbox #1!

It started at breakfast.

After consuming two bowls of cereal (and working on a bowl of yogurt), Alex announces randomly that he “will throw up again.” Yes, dear boy. It will most likely happen again. “No, I will throw up soon,” he says. Well, I say, I doubt soon is an accurate assessment. “No,” he assures me, “I will throw up tomorrow.” At which point, Erin pipes up, “And I will throw up on Sunday…and Megan can on Monday.” Yes…I see…well, thanks for the heads-up everybody.

And I think to myself…this could be an interesting day. I had no idea.

Megan, Alex and I all have the same cold. It’s not a pleasant one. I haven’t tasted my food in days from the stuffy nose, and the coughing is no fun either. Oh…and it’s making my voice sound funny. Which Erin pointed out during breakfast. Yes, I say, I have what they call a frog in my throat. I should have known better because she spent the rest of the morning wanting to randomly look in my throat for my frog. Even after I explained that it’s not a real frog, I just meant Mommy sounds like a frog…no, she’s still certain that a small green thing will be popping out of my mouth at any moment. Oh, and now she’s got one, too. 

So anyway, we make it to Meijer to buy a few sickness related things (a second vaporizer, for instance, since the two kids who need one sleep in separate rooms, and more tissues). They did great. I even pick up some donuts for our snack as a treat (and because I don’t have much else for snack to give them right now). 

We get home, eat our snack, and I sent them out back to play while I did some cleaning in the kitchen (windows open so I could hear them/keep an eye on them). Oh wait! I have a brilliant idea. I need to clean the boosters and high chair, so I take them all out back, run some soapy water, grab four sponges/cloths (one for each of us, of course), and invite them to help me “clean” the chairs. Of course, the water ended up full of sand and grass, but we did get off more dirt than we put on. I put the pieces on the grass and went to get the hose. 

I rinse off the pieces with clean water, just as Alex announces he needs to go poopy. Which in Alex-speak, means it’s either already there or very close. So I drop the hose, tell Erin she may “finish” cleaning off the chairs to stop her from asking me for the 1200th time, and ran with Alex into the house. As I pull down his pants, a puck of poo falls out onto the floor. GRRR!!!! I pick it up, put him on the potty, and am scolding him for going in his pants when Megan starts wailing from the backyard.

I finish with Alex and run for the back door and see the poor little thing absolutely drenched from head to foot and sobbing uncontrollably about it. I call in both the girls, trying to manage all three at the same time: Alex, sit there for another minute, you need to finish pooping/Megan, you’re fine/Erin, leave your shoes on, yours aren’t wet, I’m only taking off Megan’s so I can get her pants off/Alex, give me a second/Megan, sweetie, Erin is sorry she got you all wet, calm down, baby/Erin, why did you get Megan all wet?”

Of course, I’m saying all of this with no voice and no hope of being heard over all the ruckus, and then through it all comes Erin’s response: “Well, I was trying to clean off Megan’s snot with the water, but it didn’t work.”  

That’s right…she sprayed her sister in the face with the hose…trying to clean off her snotty nose. At that point, my rising irritation vanished — it just wasn’t that big of a deal. Alex will get the potty thing eventually, Megan was no worse for the washing, and Erin, sweet Erin, was just trying to be helpful. And all of the sudden, the humor in the whole episode hit me and I hugged Erin, sent her to get some clothes for Megan, cleaned up Alex and then we all got re-dressed and went back outside to play.

We came in after a while to have lunch, which the kids ate and then we started the nap time process. More pottying, diapers, all favorite toys accounted for, etc., etc., etc.

I closed their doors and headed downstairs to eat my (still tasteless) lunch and then decided to actually get back to my original plan for the day: cleaning the kitchen. I started unloading the dishwasher, went upstairs to scold Erin and Alex for still being awake (though when I walked in, Erin melted into giant tears because “Alex had yelled at her” to stop talking to him so I had to comfort her, have Alex apologize, make sure she understood that she was NOT to talk to him anymore and then exited again), and finally got back to my dishwasher, mildly annoyed that half of its contents did not get clean and needed washed again. I scrubbed things up and started to reload. I cleaned out the drain (man that’s a lot of water in the bottom that didn’t drain), ran the garbage disposal to make sure nothing was blocking it (oops, almost chewed up a Gerber spoon that had fallen in), checked for water under the sink (none), and tried to start the load anyway.

Nothing.

And suddenly I realized…sometime during our Meijer run…my dishwasher died. That’s why the first load hadn’t finished properly (thus the unclean dishes), that’s why there was water in the bottom of the dishwasher that wouldn’t drain, and that would explain why the button pad on the front has an odd black residue around and between the buttons. Oh, crap.

And at that point…I conceded defeat. I texted Eric to tell him about the dishwasher. And came upstairs to blog about our day so far. Because it has definitely, definitely been a day to remember…

Happy Friday!

I went to Australia on a six-week missions trip the summer after my freshman year of college. It was an amazing time. And it was almost 16 years ago (yikes!). But I was thinking about it the other day, so here’s a snapshot of the that amazing trip: 

• We often visited animal parks. At one, a bird pooped on Christina Jackson’s head. She left the park with toilet paper wrapped around her hair. She wasn’t happy with us for laughing, but it was hysterical.
• At a different animal park, an emu made a move on Jason Poling. The mating call of an emu is definitely not attractive!
• “Phones are Ringing All Over Town” played once an hour on the flight home. It is still one of my favorite Martina McBride songs. I also much enjoyed the almost empty flight where I got an entire row all to myself. Oh…the pre-9-11 days of easy flying!
• Tim Tams are one of the best cookies (or “bickies”) in the entire world. I would pay a lot of money to have a real Pavlova again. And Cherry Ripe candy (Cherry + coconut) and Vegemite were both gross.
• Getting there was a crazy adventure. Chicago thunderstorms sent us to LAX via Cleveland. We had to land on Fiji to avoid volcanic ash from an eruption nearby (we weren’t allowed off the plane). But because of that, we were late to New Zealand, so we had to RUN to our next gate (with like 5 minutes to spare). When we got to Australia, it was raining and they took us to a mall to see a big clock that played Waltzing Matilda before we met our hosts (called “billets”). Really, they were just keeping us up so our bodies would adjust to the time change. But either way…I still remember the clock.
• The sky in Australia is amazing. It bigger than in Ohio. I can’t explain it other than that. And they have amazing (often double) rainbows that happen all the time.
• For those six weeks, I actually knew how to correctly wind up an extension cord (for our sound equipment). I can’t do it anymore.
• Finding matching outfits for our team was a major hurdle, and mine were all too big. So I basically looked like a little kid trying to dress in big-kid clothes for the entire time we were there.
• I got to feed and pet kangaroos and hold a koala. Koalas smell horrible. Kangaroos really do look like big mice (think Sylvester Cat cartoons).

 But while the events of those weeks were amazing, the people I got to know were even better. And God used my team to teach me things that I’ve never forgotten, even after 16 years.

• Together, Christina Jackson and I learned that “It’s not a race.” We discovered early our shared tendency to rush, especially when eating. We were always done first and on to the next thing. Since nothing in Australia is rushed (“No worries!” they say), we helped each other slow down. “This is not a race,” we’d say, and we’d pause, breathe and start again. It’s a reminder I still have to give myself regularly.
• One week, we stayed in one house for 4 nights (1-2 nights was typical). Carol Lee stayed by herself with an older couple. They were kind of crazy. After a couple of nights, someone asked Carol how she was doing. She said, “You know, I just decided not to wish away a fifth of my trip. God put me with them, and I need to enjoy these moments instead of wishing them away.” It was gracious and mature, and I was struck by her comment. On days when I’m tempted to wish my kids were older and could do more for themselves, Carol’s words come to mind. “I will not wish away today.”
• I had a self-appointed watchman/big brother in Mike Engle. I appreciated him a lot. Like on the last night of youth camp, for example. As a send-off, they wanted to give us a giant group hug. No big deal, I thought, until I realized the students were going to take a running start and jump on our group like a crazy mosh pit. I was suddenly afraid I’d get crushed, and I said so to Mike. “No, you won’t,” he said, and just as they started toward us, he put his arms around me in a loose hug. The campers hit us full steam, and we got jostled around a good bit. But I was safe. And it occurred to me later…that’s exactly what God’s protection is like. He doesn’t keep the world from touching us, but no matter how hard it barrels into us, we are safe in the circle of his arms. 

But the most important lesson of the entire trip happened during our unusually long housing stay. Unlike Carol, I had great billets – a family with young children. She made me tacos (which are American – she called “tay-coes”) the first night, and they tasted just like my mom’s. That house made me horribly homesick. And one night, I was unintentionally excluded from their group. I ended up alone in my room, miserable. I wanted to go home. I was not getting along with one of the guys on the team. I was lonely. So I sat on the floor and prayed and cried. And after a few minutes, Jesus filled that room. I can’t really explain it. But a peace filled my heart, my frustrations with my teammate faded, and my loneliness got lost in the fact that, right then, Jesus was with me. I was not alone. He was there. As surely as if He had appeared physically in the room, He was there. I’ve never had that happen again. But I guess I haven’t ever been that alone again either. All I know is God took me all the way to Australia, pushed me way outside of myself, and then met me there. And I’m so glad He did.

Of course, I haven’t mentioned half of what I could say. I don’t have my pictures scanned (I have one of Christina with tp on her head!), so you can’t see what I saw. I haven’t told stories about Mandy or Josh or Travis or Chrissy and Tom or Jeff and Shelley or the lovely, lovely Australians we met there. But these are a few highlights. These are the stores I remember first, the stories that still resonate with me in the very, very different life I lead now.

But it’s good to go back, on occasion, and revisit those moments. They remind me that God is faithful. That 16 years is barely the blink of an eye for Him. That life happens, people come and go, events seem random and uncertain. But God…God is always the same.

Thank you, Jesus.  

So it was Easter weekend, so it automatically qualifies as “good” in my book. After all, we celebrate the fact that the God of the universe came and died and rose again so that we could be called “sons of God.” Yep…pretty darn awesome. 

Still, my MIL took my kids overnight on Friday night, and Eric went to get them on Saturday. So I had two whole days to myself! Yippee!!! I ran errands, I wrote, I goofed off, I went on a date with my husband, we slept in, I ran more errands, I checked things off my list left and right. And then everyone came home and that was lovely, too. I miss those little monsters when they’re gone!

Sunday, I was covering Sunday School for a friend, so to be honest, church didn’t really feel like Easter, though I did get to share the Easter story with a whole mess of 2 year olds. (Talk about enthusiasm when you tell them to yell “Jesus is Alive!” – we should all take lessons from them on that count…). Then we got donut holes for a snack, waited for Eric to get home (he’d played in the orchestra for Easter Sunday), then we packed up and headed to my parents’ house. We had an egg hunt with 5 kids ages 15 months – 4 years…totally fun. We had a super-yummy dinner, and then I got to sit and talk to my mom and sister for, like, hours. Definitely fabulous!

Surprisingly, our return to “normal” today hasn’t even been terribly difficult. It was almost like I was ready to go back to “real life” after all the craziness of the weekend. 

But I will leave you with two great things. A good, hearty, “Jesus is Alive!”

And some cute pictures of my kids from yesterday…

We’ve just been hanging out recently. Playing outside when possible. Doing a bit of running around here and there. Just glad that winter seems to be over. In fact, I have almost given up my suspicions that this spring-like weather is just a front for an impending arctic blast. It could still happen…this is Ohio after all…but we might just sneak into spring unscathed. Maybe.

So it seems the family is really starting to “get it” these days…

Eric told me the other day that he’s turned out prototypes of the filters he was hired to produce…about a year ahead of schedule. They aren’t quite performing as needed yet, but he’s definitely getting it. (Yeah…we think he’s pretty awesome, too…) 

Megan is pretty much always getting it – or more accurately…getting into it. Last night, for example, with both of us standing nearby, she managed to eat a handful of mulch. Nice. But she’s figuring out other nifty skills, as well. She’s a master tower-builder these days – especially with Duplos. She even narrates her building process: “This one,” she says as she picks up a new block. “Here” as she puts it in place. “‘Nother one,” as she reaches for her next one. It’s very fun to watch.  

Erin is learning to really truck on her tricycle. She pedals like a champ. She’s also starting to take a real interest in drawing letters. I need to get her more practice with tracing and controlling her pencil, but she’s starting to really get the hang of it. I never knew how hard learning to draw a line or a circle is!

But Alex…he’s my champ right now. I haven’t mentioned it for a while for fear of jinxing our progress…but I think we are finally getting the whole potty training thing. It’s been a couple of weeks since there was a full-out accident. He still leaks a bit, but he’s finally getting the hang of holding it and peeing in the potty. In fact, we were outside last night, and he stopped and called for me. Eric went to get him, both of us figuring he’d messed himself or something. But that wasn’t it at all! Eric carried him inside (he was working so hard to hold it that he couldn’t walk) and he did all his business in the potty! I can’t even tell you how excited that made me. We might actually survive this potty-training craziness after all! WooHoo!!

He’s is also starting to “get it” in other areas. He sat at our little piano this morning and sang me song after song after song. It was so sweet to hear him mostly getting the lyrics to Jesus Loves Me, Twinkle Twinkle, the B-I-B-L-E, and Itsy Bitsy Spider (among others). Of course, he’s also starting to get a real attitude at times and has tried biting on occasion, which is SO not allowed. But mostly, he’s really starting to get it, to grow, to turn into this amazing little boy, and it’s exciting to see. 

And me…well, I’m starting to “get” some things, too. I really struggle with the daily-ness of life. The constant pull of my kids, my activities. I keep looking for the moment when I have all the laundry done or the house totally clean or my kids totally taken care of – even if it only lasts for 15 minutes. But shockingly…that’s just not how it’s supposed to be. I realize this seems pretty obvious, but I have a pretty steep learning curve in this area (in everyday life and in spiritual terms). I keep thinking I’m supposed to “get it,” to manage my whole world until I have it all done enough that I can turn to God – and God has been trying to drum into my head that He wants exactly the opposite. He wants me turning to Him constantly (like my kids turn to me), depending on Him fully, walking with His Spirit, not in spurts until I finish a particular “race” (i.e. whatever lesson He’s teaching me right then), but just always. He doesn’t want me to handle my day and then come to him…He wants me to come to Him so that I handle my day like He wants it done. 

Like this bit from Jesus Calling… 

“I am calling you to a life of constant communion with Me. Basic training includes learning to live above your circumstances, even while interacting on that cluttered plane of life. You yearn for a simplified lifestyle, so the your communication with Me can be uninterrupted. But I challenge you to relinquish the fantasy of an uncluttered world. Accept each day just as it comes, and find Me in the midst of it all.”

An uncluttered world is a fantasy of mine. Or, perhaps more accurately, an idol. I worship the pursuit of some quiet idyllic life that I managed to scrape out of the craziness of life. And God never wanted that for me.  He is asking Me to trust Him enough to not have all the answers today, not get the perfect solutions right now, not to expect Him to ease my frustrations and pain until He says it’s time. I don’t like it. I am not comfortable that way. But I’m starting to “get” why I need it. And I’m starting to be more willing to learn His way, even though it’s hard for me to do. And maybe one day…it’ll look just like it’s supposed to – me depending fully on Him so that He can shine fully through me.