Resolved to be at Peace

When the pictures from the sky jump place arrived in my email inbox, this is the image that made me pause and smile the longest. This picture represents a feat I am very proud of, even more than jumping out of a plane in mid-air. (Is it arrogant to express pride, or can it be appropriate to rejoice over personal achievements and progress? I choose the latter because I truly am grateful.)

Let me just reiterate that fear had replaced all interest in jumping after I'd been gifted a ticket to the skydive place.

This moment right here was what I had to consciously and consistently set aside as I anticipated the jump. This moment represented the final and hardest act of resolve. I knew that to scoot my body to the edge of the plane, to sit with legs dangling and body ready to drop, and to do it willingly, would be the single most difficult moment. What came after (falling) was more passive in terms of resolve, and active only in choosing to take in the experience. I didn't allow fear to rule me in the days leading up to our jump, or while preparing on the ground, or during the 20 minute flight up. One single flinch in this resolve and I would have changed my mind in an instant. I'm so thankful I didn't!

Instead, when fear was menacing and threatened to dominate, I was resolute and at peace. I'm proud of jumping, yes, but more so that inner peace conquered over the tyrant of fear.

I'm not naturally a strong person, but when strength of any sort comes, truly, I am humbly grateful. Self-control is both practiced and received as a gift (Gal. 5:22-23). There are so many ways that implementing self-control is needful in my life. Determined self-control or resolve to do difficult things are persistently needed. For instance, resolve...

To take the first steps of a 15 mile run, or to run to the bitter end
To accept an invitation to speak
To let a child grow into independence, to let them risk, or even fail
To accept the unexpected
To attend an event where people who are cold to us are present
To try something new and difficult, to grow
To say hard but needful things
To be a participant and to contribute, to make myself vulnerable; or
To be guarded, to discern, to draw boundaries
To accept not being understood
To break the mold of expectations, to be unashamedly human, to disappoint
To accept my lot (portion), to live open handedly
To remember hardship, to feel and acknowledge, to move on
To let go what cannot be changed
To serve while being treated as a servant, and to continue serving
To love despite cost
To see past this temporal life
To plead for an outcome, then to wholeheartedly trust God

To be at peace in any storm. And to smile.

>:<

We are urged to "be filled with the Spirit" by the very same Spirit of God who commands, "Peace, be still!" 

I want it fiercely.

Who cares about a dumb picture and about self-imposed thrills? Who cares about practicing mind games to conquer fear if it's all just selfish and temporal?

I want something deeper.

"The peace that passes understanding will guard your heart in Christ Jesus." That's what I want! How do we find this peace? Because "The Lord is at hand" right here, right now, inviting us into relationship and intimate conversation: "In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." Then He comforts our anxieties and quiets us with his love. (Phil. 4)

Set your heart resolutely on Christ who said: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you." 
(John 14:27)


~Katherine

June at Random

It's absolutely beautiful here. Perfect temp, sunny and breezy, shimmery light, no bugs. If you don't live around here and you just felt a tinge of jealousy, remember that my skin will age quicker than yours and I will be at greater risk for skin cancer. There are always two sides to the same coin.

My errands went quickly and I'm waiting in the car - windows down and sunroof open - while Michael finishes up weight training. Surprise of all surprises, I have a minute or two to blog. In a way I feel like I'm spending the summer driving my teens to places they need to be, and I'm having a hard time adjusting to this type of summer schedule. My younger ones are begging to go to the beach, and all I've been able to manage thus far are short and simple trips that last an hour or so. 

But life is good. I slow my mind down to take it in. I noticed particulars of life with my kids that make me smile, and wish only to be mindful to see more. For instance:

*On the way here Michael rode in the passenger seat with his socks on his lap, skateboard tucked to the side, his knees up to the dash (at 6'1" he can't help it), eating the flesh of a coconut split in half. 

*I took a short bike ride with Andrew this morning so he could show me the homes of more "clients" for his garbage can business. He has a dozen clients now and has increased his profits from $6 per month to $70. Anyway, he found a cool bug as we biked along and wanted to take it home. Since he was on his unicycle, I kept his biting beetle the length of my thumb in my cruiser basket. It hisses. 

*Jacob has wrapped his arms around my waist numerous times today and I stopped long enough to hold him tight. This is super important to him.

*Olivia looked cute and confident as she ran into the ice-cream and candy shop... her summer job.

Well, I've only got some iPhone picks available today. They help me to remember the little things too.

Driving with her is not as scary anymore, until suddenly it is. 

She is doing awesome, but it's a good thing I enjoy adrenaline coursing through my veins now and then.

A painting project I expected to take one day turned into three. I was tired, but now I'm glad it's done.

Three days spent painting rafters is not at all bad for building arm muscle.

Wood stain/tannins that bleed through builds patience and a healthy feeling of "good enough" after 5 coats.

Jon hired Andrew to make and bring me coffee in his stead. I'm spoiled, I know. I get coffee in bed every single morning. I'm so not a morning person, and they feel sorry for me.

A quick, Sunday afternoon trip to the beach to test a new wetsuit and new-to-us board.

He dreams at night and during the day of being in the waves. 

After a couple hours of driving, plus several lengthy errands, we made a quick stop on the way home to check out a new spot. Seriously the coolest place. How is it, local people, that you don't tell me about these places? Why did it take me nearly 6 years to find this?

I'm on a running schedule again. It helps me so much to have an actual piece of paper that tell's me when and how long to run. I'm certain that's telling of my personality...

Also, night runs are the best. Morning runs are the pits.

How I found Jack one morning. He plays hard, therefore he sleeps hard.

He was working on his Father's Day note for the poster my kids make each year.

Then he took Jon out for coffee on Sunday with money he made selling lemonade.

He is our generous spender.

She was looking over the fall course catalog, wearing my dress, looking cute, while I did handstands.

I'm getting closer to not needing the wall. Hanging upside down is so energizing. 

The dorky socks are to keep the wall clean.

Yes, the bedroom walls are seriously under decorated. 

I love finding her selfies on my phone. Most times they are silly, but this one was cute.

Jon and I sort of slept outside one night last week, and we woke up to five ducklings in our pool. There was no sign of a parent, and no way for them to get out. We spent some time chasing them round the pool in the dingy, boxed them up, then took them to the wildlife rescue place. We are so Californian. Upon our return, Andrew's big, beautiful butterfly had hatched and we let it out into the big blue sky.

>:<

It's a day later, I'm happy-tired, and wouldn't you know it... here I am again. 

I look through the above pics and see how many there are of me, and I think it's rather funny. In reality, the kids' photos far outweigh mine in number, except at the moment theirs reside on my camera's memory card. 

For a brief moment, I wonder what some of you will think. Maybe some will think it's vain or lacking in humility, or someone will judge my clothes, or judge my motives, or think some other negative thought about me that I cannot guess. I wonder if I should take them down just to avoid being the object of negative thoughts, and the reason for ruffling some one's feathers.

Olivia and I talk about this sort of thing. We all know how some people plaster the internet with photos of themselves. I guess this could be vanity and a waste of time. But for others, it could be a creative expression or a celebration of a happy and blessed life. Who am I to determine some one's motive?

Here's the thing I tell Olivia: It's no less wrong to live in fear of what others might wrongly judge, always trying to please others (which is an impossibility) than it is to be filled with vanity and pride. I'm seeing with increasing clarity that I allow what I think folks might think to dictate my choices. I'm guilty of letting the fear of man stifle joyous living.

This past spring, for instance, I watched on Facebook several friends train and complete long distance runs. I loved following their training progress and I silently cheered from my side of the computer screen when they achieved their goals. They posted pictures, results, medals, happy faces. I never for an instance thought they were being proud, but rather I admired their work and accomplishment, and their freedom to simply celebrate. The funny thing is that I trained and ran too, but could not bring myself to post anything just in case it came across as prideful. It is a twisted, false humility that masks the fear of man! Can't we just celebrate the good things in life with each other? I think most people do, and it's certainly the kind of person I want to be.

So, yes, I did run. Running and the injuries I've incurred by running have only made me work harder to feel better and enjoy life more fully. And I'm rightly proud of that as I continue to push myself. I've loved the results I've worked for. Is that really so bad to say? 

But three weeks before I ran, I had to nearly stop training because of a foot injury (couldn't tell if it was a stress fracture or tendinitis). In fact, the whole 12 weeks of training didn't go very well at all, despite an iron infusion for chronic anemia at the beginning. Having to pull back during my peak weeks of training was a real disappointment. I had long let go of my goal to finish my second half marathon under two hours, and just determined to finish the race and enjoy it. I knew running was a risky gamble, but I tried to let my foot heal well enough for race day. When the day came, the odds were very much against me and I imagined having to be picked up and driven back embarrassed. I stubbornly lined up with my group in wave 2 and looked for Michael and Olivia waving past throngs of people. Then I had the best run ever, only slightly annoyed with my foot, and finished under the two-hour mark. I was a happy, limping girl during the days that followed, but the feeling of accomplishment was more than worth it, as were the weeks of foot recovery that followed.

I'd like to think that personal accomplishments should be reasons to celebrate the gift that it is from God who enables, rather than a reason to cower in fear of what others may think. Yes? The point is not running, or finishing well, but embracing the freedom to enjoy things that make us thankful!

Jon is my sweetheart. He tells me to live and be who God made me to be. His small words in passing are big deals to me sometimes. Just saying.

~Katherine

Journals of June Opening

I'm trying to keep this blog alive. I tell myself to just keep documenting, even if that means it's only disorganized thoughts and sporadic records of random events. April, May, and now June... it's all going by so quickly and I struggle to find the time to pause and remember. I've sat to write short journal-type entries this week, but they are nothing in comparison to what I'd like to record. Pictures help to call to mind the simple moments. Raw, understated, spontaneous moments are what compose most of life, and these are at the greatest risk becoming lost to me. I am reminded once again not to grumble at the mundane, but to actively look around for beauty, sweetness, humor, and the gift that is this life.

When I am old, I will cherish the many seaside walks at sunset I took with my kids.

If I have a failing mind one day, I hope this brings back memories of walking shoulder-to-shoulder with my teens. 

I want to remember stopping at odd places to gather flowers with Olivia.

These wild artichokes or giant thistles by the train stop were our latest.

I want to remember waking up and finding my boys doing the wonderfully odd things they do each day. Who thinks of reading in a rubber rowboat while the rest of the family still sleeps?

Andrew, that's who. 

Thursday, June 1

I sit hear near the end of another week, tapping the keys to form this first sentence and I'm frustrated by the blankness of my mind right now. It's so odd. There are many things I think of during the day that I'd love to write, if only I had the time. Sometimes I dialogue words into my head in the hopes of remembering them for transcription onto this screen at a later time. But then I sit here, like I am now, and it's all faded and gone.

I tell myself to try anyway, even though I know that blogs have fallen out of style for a reason. One of those reasons, I am sure, is that blogging can be work!

Oh, yes, work! That's where I can start. The kids' hard work this school year is paying off, and we are beginning to feel that sense of satisfaction and accomplishment as the year comes to a wrap. We didn't get a clean cut finish like we've had in the past. Last week Jacob and Andrew have finished 4th and 6th grades respectively, and I couldn't be happier for them. They've worked hard and completed a fantastic year, and they are ready and deserving of a break. Olivia completed her last class day today; we conference with her cohort teacher tomorrow, and she will take her finals next week. She has done amazingly. She has some concurrent credits under her belt, way more high school credits than usual for a sophomore, but still saved some time for youth group and service at church, and for entrepreneur club and areas of service. After finals, she plans on taking another CLEP exam and needs to take some math and English placement exams at our community college. This girl has incredible drive! Michael has a couple more weeks left before his science course is complete, but let me just say he has completed his best year yet. I am so proud of him. This dyslexic boy of mine has made incredible advancement this year. We have worked together for years-- blood, sweat, and tears kind of work-- and he is shocking us all with his accomplishments now. Yes, the very boy that struggled so much to learn to read and write recently tested beyond the high school level in some areas. He is an out-of-the-box thinker, intelligent, creative in peculiar ways... all strengths that are not measured by standardized tests. He keeps me wondering every single day about how he will use his life! I have no doubt it will be something interesting a unusual. Tomorrow, we will attend an awards ceremony. I'm not sure what he will be receiving, but he has been selected and we are going to find out. 'Course he couldn't care less about an award, but he's going for my sake.

Homeschool is work, let me just say. And transitioning into traditional school is another kind of work. So is preparing kids for life away from home and from our constant oversight. We are doing all these things at once.

The kids each have plans for work this summer as well. Olivia has been searching for work and has some good leads/opportunities that may result in a summer job. Michael is looking too, but at 14 it is a little harder to be formally considered. Most employers don't want to be bothered with work permits, or risk hiring an immature kid. Still, he is managing to pickup a few jobs here and there. He will be weight training (which is another kind of work) and learning to do sound at church, and has developed strategies for acquiring work in the coming years. Andrew went around the neighborhood on his unicycle with fliers advertising the work he can do. He found one lady who hired him to take in her three garbage bins for a total of $1.50 per week... which was kind of discouraging at first! Still, he is taking this job seriously and sees it as an opportunity to build his reputation. He and Jack want to set up a lemonade stand soon... and Jack plans to have a wagon full of succulents for sale. He artfully grows them in driftwood, rocks, and small containers. I buy them from him 'cause I like them, but also just to encourage him in his endeavors.

I want to remember these brother-friends and their boy-faces and projects. Someday these faces will have hair on them and their lives will be more complex, but I want to remember days like this: Side-by-side eating fresh strawberries in milk with brown sugar, and watching two spiders fight for life in a mason jar. May the remembrance of these happy, simple moments be like a happy balm to them when their faces are weathered and hairy, and when their lives are completely different!

I want to remember peaking into the sunroom and finding her "studying."

Truly, she is no slacker.

He was working on his last assignment of the year. I want to remember that he never worked at usual places.

This is exactly the kind of thing I tend to forget, but really want to remember...

Jacob's "store" in which he pulls out all of his junk and "treasures" to sell because he realizes his older brothers are making more money. I'm usually the only one to buy things. He stays behind his counter for hours, except to put up "Open" signs. I feel bad for him, so I buy more things.

We have this giant ball that was going to be thrown out. I want to remember the hours of fun and my boys' fearlessness. 

Friday, June 2

It frequently happens that I feel the need to somehow apologize to my neighborhood for the noise we create. Like now. My younger boys have a friend over for the night, and it's just amazing how much noise three boys can make in the pool. I shouldn't be surprised anymore, but I watch/listen in amazement every single time. Three boys make noise without even trying, like maybe 10 times more than if there were only two boys. The dynamics completely change when you go from two boys to three or more. If Michael goes out there, look out. (Look at the two pictures above and imagine more boys. Now add to that image lots of sound. Now multiply that sound beyond what is reasonable and necessary. Now multiply by 10 or 20, depending on the game.)

But the happy faces and loud, happy noise is wonderfully relaxing to me right now at the end of a long week. The evening is as it should be.

So Michael's award today was for "outstanding communicator." I'm not entirely sure what he did this year to warrant the award, but I sat there next to him with tears in my eyes during the lengthy school ceremony. My tears, though, were because of the hilarious things he kept whispering to me. I almost snorted through my nose trying not to laugh. His humor can be absolutely brilliant or insanely immature. Eventually I had to separate the boys because we were all getting out of hand. Life isn't boring for me, and being a mom to boys has been an adventure.

Like last Friday, Andrew was walking home from his $1.50 garbage bin "job" and noticed a snake under a bush. Not being sure if it was a rattle snake or not, he ran home for Michael. When I heard about this as they ran out the door, I considered saying "no." After all, is a rattle snake bite really worth it? Then I remembered how I need to trust them to make their own decisions. I knew they would be cautious; they've got good a head on their shoulders. And if not, I know how to get to the nearest ER quickly and I formulated the plan in my head!

A few minutes later they came home with this (not a rattler):

They are not allowed to bring snakes in the house, but clearly that didn't stop anyone. I'm no better; I don't help enforce rules when I grab my camera and take pictures.

I really do hate snakes. But I like my boys. I like that they aren't sissy boys, I like that they experiment ("Let's see how he swims..."), and how they find entertainment away from screens. Isn't this becoming a rarity in boys nowadays? Plus, there are much worse things to fear and fight against in life than snakes, and I'm all for allowing my kids to grow in courage.

That means I have to grow in courage as their mom. Yeah, I know the dangers out there in the real world are plentiful, but living according to fear is a far greater danger. Fear is the opposite of freedom, whether that relates to peer pressure, or trying new things and chasing dreams, or doing what's right in the eyes of God when it costs. Courage is needed to live freely. So often my freedom is hindered by fear of offending, fear of failure, fear of getting hurt or embarrassed, fear of being misunderstood, or fear of what others might think. How often I withhold true love because of fear!

Furthermore, if I fear everything that could happen to my kids, and imposed that fear on my kids, I'd surely fail to prepare them for life. Fear stifles, and it leads to a wasted life.

I'm not sure this makes sense to anyone else right now, and maybe you just want to judge me for being a reckless parent. I'm OK with that. For me, there is a whole discourse shaping in my heart on the subject of fear. It's a much bigger subject than I can grasp yet, but I think the implications will be awesome.

When I choose to live in fear (and it is a choice), I am essentially saying that God is not big enough to be trusted. I want to know freedom; I want to come to a place of trusting in my great, big, trustworthy, all-powerful, loving, and good God.

I am beginning to see some of the ways fear has dictated my life. Christ died so that I would have freedom in it's truest sense. Why is it, then, that I revert back to living in fear? If I have died to my self, and if Christ raised me to LIFE in him and sets me FREE from bondage to sin, why would I go back to living as a slave to fear? It makes no sense, and it need not be!

As I learn and grow, I want to expose to my kids ways in which fear is bondage to a lie about God. HE is bigger. HE is trustworthy. He calls us to a fuller, freer life! How great is that?!


(Also, courage and stupidity are not the same. Being stupid in the name of fearlessness is not what I'm talking about here! We need to teach wisdom, too!)



Sunday, June 4

Our water bill is out of control, and the city complains of our water usage. They don't realize that in the summer we run a recreational pool and youth program. They should compare our water usage to the city public pool instead of our elderly and working professional neighbors; they should take into consideration how many people sleep under our roof (or outside on our property, as the case may be), and how much laundry, showers, and dish-washing all these people and activities produce. I think we'd fare a bit better that way.

Sunday afternoon now, and our pool deck is soaked. Wet towels and swim suits lay everywhere. This is a huge amount of wasted water for which our wrists will be slapped by the city. I'm sure our energy bill will be high as well because of the jacuzzi. The grocery store, however, has never complained about our food bill! 

The way I see it, though, is that these bills are investments. I'm not expecting the city to understand that investing in people and relationships is worth a pretty penny. I'm pretty sure we'll never regret putting our money there. Making our home a place where our kids want to be is important to us. In fact, we want our home to be where their friends want to be and place where we can welcome strangers with ease. I am consciously working to prepare such an environment and to improve my skill and readiness. Let me just say it doesn't come naturally to me, but it does come with commitment and with practice!

Anyway, I am happy again today with all the noise and the wasting of resources. I'm thankful that my husband feels the same way.

Right now, Jack and Andrew are playing street hockey with a friend (and likely some neighbors). They will be back to swim, no doubt. Michael is with a friend this afternoon; they are kayaking and fishing out in the ocean. I am actively not thinking about all the shark sightings and attack reported this spring. Olivia clocked in some more driving hours and instruction, and is now reading in the living room. 

I am thankful for a rich time at church today, thankful for learning more deeply of God's love for me. I was reminded again of his desire to save, to open the eyes of the spiritually blind, and to create new hearts that live fully for him. He is holy and fully just, sovereign and perfect in all his ways, and yet he desires relationship with us, knowing us before time began, and provides a way of salvation through the suffering, death, and resurrection of his Son. What love! And what hope we have as we go before his throne to appeal for mercy on the lives of our loved ones!

A picture, when there was no time to be taking pictures, to remember Olivia's last day of class as a sophomore...

~Katherine

Seeking to love when there's pressure to perform

The house is unusually quiet tonight because my kids are all sleeping soundly and Jon is out of town. I've never been afraid of being alone when Jon is away, but let me just say there are some strange sounds coming from the dining area. Oh well, it's too cozy here on the sofa to get up and investigate. It's not worth walking across the cold tile to find out it's just the branch that touches the window, and I'd rather not know if it's a mouse. Seriously, the tile in this place is like ice, and it feels like the cold creeps up my leg bones. Plus, what would I do if it is a mouse?

We've had a couple late nights this week, so this morning I let my kids sleep as long as they needed. Even my early bird Andrew set a record and slept till 9:30. We had a late pancake breakfast and eased into our school day. In an attempt to motivate everyone to work faster, I offered to take them to feed the ducks at a nature reserve close by. They have been saving heels of bread in the freezer for a couple weeks, but with one look outside at the clouds they unanimously agreed that a "cozy day at home" was better. So we finished up our work then settled in the living room to listen to an audio book and color. Jacob fell asleep against me, his head of overgrown hair nestled on my chest. I must have kissed the top of his head fifty times. That was way better than feeding the ducks. Later he helped me make a big pot of vegetable soup and repeatedly told me that I'm "the best mom he has ever had". Sweet kid, that little Jacob.

Yesterday the kids did a bunch of crafts. Some of our plans were scrapped because we discovered that most of our supplies are inaccessibly packed in the garage. I managed to come up with something for everyone to do, even though I had planned for an activity that involved paint.

Olivia took out her needle point and started a new tea towel. I'll have to get her to teach me some day...

Michael has been wanting to try a Crayon project I saw on Pinterest. It didn't quite turn out like the picture, because, after all, he is an eight year old boy who likes to see what happens when you don't follow directions. The melted wax is supposed to drip down the canvas in a rather straight line, but he happily discovered what happens when you blast hot air at melted wax. He had fun and I'm glad for it. He spent more time later hammering crayons to bits and melting them on a paper plate.

His next project is to disassemble that old hair dryer to see how it works on the inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been a little more reluctant to blog as often since we've moved because the things on my mind might be a little risky to blog about. Of course, not everything about life is meant to be public. My role as a pastor's wife is being redefined again in my heart, and I am learning so much about myself in the process. I know that a good number of the ladies who read my blog are preparing for a life of ministry alongside their husband, and I would love to share and record what I am discovering and overcoming. On the other hand, it is simply not worth the risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented. So until I feel at peace about sharing publicly, or until my mind settles on an entirely different topic, I imagine my posts will continue to remain a little sporadic.

There is one aspect of being a pastor's wife that I feel I can write about, however, but mostly for my own sake. Sometimes its good to write out what I'm working through. Over the last several months I've been evaluating my parenting approach and underlying convictions in terms of being a ministry family. In the process, I've come to see that, once again, it relates more to the fear of man vs. fear of God.

It is a plain reality that people watch the pastor's family closely. Some people are realistic and understand that we're just like everyone else, fallen sinners striving to grow in righteousness. Others are less gracious and more critical. This has been a fact that I've reluctantly come to terms with, and I can say with sincere thankfulness that this position is being used by God to root out some junk in my heart.

Back to parenting though, because I know I can easily go down rabbit trails here! For me, it would be so easy to begin to require my kids to act a certain way (or not act a certain way) because they are PKs. I could point out to them that people are watching. I could impose on them my stress and concern about what other people expect of them. My correction could easily be motivated by the fear of man, by being sinfully concerned about what people think of ME and how well I have trained them. I need to guard what I say to them as we pull into the church parking lot. I need to look for ways to encourage them when we leave and carefully determine on what grounds I may need to correct them.

I don't want them to feel that the pressure is on to perform. Performance is fake, and it will either lead to self-righteousness or resentment. It is not true obedience.

They need to know that no matter where we are and who we are with, our actions, words, and thoughts need to be for the glory of God and out of sincere love for Him. I need to take them back to God's perfect standard. I need to remember that.

All of this has caused me to evaluate what is good church behavior. I don't think it's best to train little soldier-like kids who are seen and not heard (unless it's "yes ma'am" and "no sir" type speech). There's plenty of that in some circles, but to be honest it kind of turns me off. We don't need to be squelching our children's personalities! No, they were each made with a purpose and with a unique personality. We shouldn't  seek to suppress that, or deny the simple fact that they are children.

Of course they need to be molded, directed, and instructed. They don't necessarily know what is reverent behavior, or proper social etiquette that varies according to the occasion and to the people present. But the reason for our behavior is to be clearly out of love for God and for others.

(Remember the roadside flowers we picked? They've turned into this pretty fluff.)

I want to love my kids. That sounds silly or simplistic, but I can't love them with a tender affection (Titus 2:4) and withhold grace and acceptance at the same time. I can't love them and burden them with expectations that are not of the Lord.

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would mot be a servant of Christ. (Gal.1: 10)


~Katherine

Our kind of playground

In my opinion, the great outdoors makes a way better playground for my kids. There's so much more to explore! Natural beauty doesn't even begin to compare with man made plastic structures and the surrounding suburb fake-ish landscape. We never leave out of boredom the way we often do a neighborhood park.

I smile when I think back to the hours we spent hiking these rocks last week. If you recognize this place, you know how spectacular it is. So much so that when we arrived in the morning, there was a film crew set up with all the trailers and trucks and equipment. This type of stuff hardly interests me any more, and we were bummed because it meant we had to go on the opposite side of the cliff we wanted to hike. After we had hiked up for a good distance, when I knew we were out of site of the crew, we circles back over to sit in the sun and munch on peanuts. Suddenly a man, huffing and puffing and red in the face, appeared over the edge of a boulder to ask us to move. Apparently our voices were being carried through the canyons and picked up on the sound recording. Oops.

It's interesting to see the differences in each of my kids. They all come from the same parents and live in the same house, but the differences can be amazing. Some are fearless and invincible (or so they think), while others are more cautious. Obviously we were all on the alert for rattle snakes, but Andrew's paranoia was hilarious. Every grass that rustled or cricket that cricked sent him running. He eventually calmed down about the snakes, but it took time for him to try scaling the rocks. Yet every time I forced him to climb a little (in order for us to stay together) he was glad to have conquered a fear. 

Conquering fears. It's hard stuff. In most cases the battle is mostly in our head, and totally conquerable. I want to raise kids that can face their fears head on, and learn to understand what is worth fearing and what fears need to be crushed.

(This was probably a much more sanitary "sand box" than any community park!)

I had some pretty persistent fears recently which could be reduced down to one thing: The fear of man. It is never a fear worth having, and certainly it's not a God honoring fear. Had it not been for the help of the Lord, I may have pressed those fears onto my children in a harmful way. The thing was, I wanted to be liked and accepted by a certain group of people. My fear was that my kids would misbehave and mess things up for me. I was afraid that I would be judged solely on the basis of my kids' behavior.

I never want to tell my kids to behave a certain way to make me look good, or to behave well because they are the pastor's kids and people are always watching and scrutinizing. That's a sure way to make them run for the hills, especially as they get older. It's a great way to get them to resent us, their parents, and to run from the hypocrisy they would associate with Christianity. 

They need to know that obedience is always for the Lord. I need to remember that too. And when my kids misbehave, when they disobey, it is an offense to God first and foremost. It's not about me, and my response to it can be God honoring.

That is so freeing for me. It removes so much of the pressure. If I am not accepted for whatever reason, I'm OK with it because God is my judge. Really, the obsession is removed and my focus is put back into the proper place.

If I'm rejected because my kid misbehaved, then fine. I can't blame my kids so much. Rather I can work with them knowing that I mess up too. And if I am not liked based on my personality, perceived strengths and weakness, I can rest in the knowledge that God has made me who I am on purpose and for His glory. And again, that He is the measure of all things. 

My fears are lifted and I become free to live as He made me. No one can alter or change what He has planned for my life, and so I live eagerly expecting to see what will unfold, what He has in store for me.

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I never intended for this blog to be some sort of teaching platform. Not at all. This is for me now and it may be helpful again in the future.

~Katherine