Category - Faith

Going “Naked” at the Water Park

August 6, 2015

How Being a Mom Has Given Me

More Confidence as a Woman

Summertime is a wonderful season. The sunshine and warm temperatures mean my boys are eager for picnics, exploring parks, being outside morning until night, chasing fireflies, and playing in water whenever and wherever they can (Oh, look! A puddle!!! What? What do you mean, “Good clothes?”)

Of course, water and swimming mean swimsuits, which is fine when you’re a 2-year-old or 5-year-old kid. They’d be fine without changing into any swim appropriate attire (see “Puddle” above) or completely nude, if allowed (mine are not). But once most of us hit a certain age, maybe late tweens or early teens, swimwear, along with our outward appearance overall, become kind of a big deal, or rather, a big ordeal.

Now I know that there are those special few who are graced with a self-confidence impervious to mean kids or expectations of physical perfection promoted by the media. Kudos to them! I was never one of them. As a teenager and younger adult, I struggled with accepting how I looked, how I wanted to look, and the disparity between the two. And of course, doing what I could to help the situation.

I did not leave the house without my hair fixed or my makeup on. When anyone was coming over to my house, I was ready. Only people who I really knew or trusted, such as family or very close friends, have ever seen me bare-faced or flat-haired. I even had myself all presentable when I gave birth to my boys.

I never had too much of an issue with my weight or my body itself because I stayed active enough and was blessed with good genetics and a healthy metabolism. However, I did watch my diet and tried to exercise to ensure that it never was an issue.

Even marrying the sweetest, most adoring man, one who will adamantly proclaim my beauty and perfection to the world, hasn’t completely changed my self-esteem. He could tell me I’m pretty as I am, and I’d think, “That’s because you love me. Other people don’t.”

Then I had babies. If you think that made me feel better about myself physically, you’d be wrong, at least initially. Was I proud of what my body was able to do (with God’s help and divine design) when I carried and naturally delivered my babies? Absolutely. It was amazing. Precious. Miraculous.

But babies – They can wreak some havoc. Not only do you face weight gain, stretch marks, different boobs, and the knowledge that your body will never be exactly as it was before, but caring for a little one often means sleepless nights and shower-less days, among other things. Not many new mamas go around feeling super beautiful and attractive, at least not most days. As the children get a little older, the time you get to spend on yourself is still less and harder won than before the sweeties were in the picture.

But we love them in the picture. We do. We would never change that picture now. And so slowly, we grow accustomed to a new standard of what is acceptable in order to feel pretty and confident. (When you’ve not shaved in who knows how long, finally doing so is like a whole spa day!)

With more to worry about in our lives than some random stranger’s opinion of us, we can start to relax our comparisons of ourselves to others. When we start to focus on the little people who we love so much, we spend less time focused on ourselves. That’s very freeing.

Then came this summer, and we got invited to a water park to celebrate my nephew’s fourth birthday.

First thought – water equals swimsuits. However, I’m fine with rocking the swim shorts and tankini after a few summers as a parent because I have two boys to keep up with, and I don’t want to be readjusting everything each time I move. I’ve learned that, as a mom, sometimes I need to be quicker than I am cute. Just like heels don’t work at the park, a more revealing, more-likely-to-move-around swimsuit isn’t practical for me. Plus, this suit is good to cover up those areas that have…um…changed since having children. It’s still a cute suit, though, so I can feel confident in it.

However, when I’m out and about, I dislike getting totally wet because of my hair and makeup hang-ups. My hair doesn’t look great wet. I mean, I know most people don’t look great with wet hair. Very few people come out of the water looking like the Little Mermaid, with that backlit flip of her gorgeous red locks that fall beautifully into place. Nope. We look like drowned rats. Or raccoons, if we’ve worn too much waterproof mascara, which is generally more water-resistant than waterproof. A tired mom with under-eye circles doesn’t need anything else darkening that area.

That’s why I usually let my husband do the heavy water stuff with my guys when we’re out in public. (You can’t put children in water without getting soaked.) I can better take pictures that way, too. However, for this particular day, he had to work.

It would just be me with my two boys. I knew what that meant – it was either all or nothing.

If I didn’t enter in to that day whole-heartedly and abandon my concerns with how I would look, especially when it was over, my boys might have an okay day, but none of us would have an awesome day.

The morning of our adventure, I made a decision: vanity and self-consciousness were not going to keep me from enjoying my boys and their day to the absolute fullest. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, styled my bangs knowing they would be flat and parted by day’s end, and only applied foundation because of its high SPF (this pale girl burns easily).

Now makeup and hair styles may not be a difficulty for you. You may be able to flaunt your natural beauty without a second thought. But all of us have some area of vulnerability, something that we keep covered up rather than being completely, truly who we are. We fear judgment, rejection, or people misunderstanding us.

Fear, though, is a thief. It’s a lie. And it’s not of God. His Word clearly tells us that “God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

Does this mean that my fear of what people think of me, or any fear, is the end of my Christian walk? No, it just makes me human, and should, honestly, push me closer to God. Where else can I find my true worth and value? I’m important enough to Him that “every day of my life was recorded in (His) book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.” (Psalm 139:16) I can come to Him, baring my heart and completely stripped of pretense, with whatever vulnerability or flaw and find grace, love, healing, and acceptance. God knows who He created me to be, and by resting in His love for me (and that of my husband and boys), I can continue to become confident and free in who that is.

At the water park, I felt naked at first, aware of my less-than-my-standard appearance, but once we got to the park, and my boys saw the water, I knew being “bare” for them would be worth it. They didn’t care what I looked like as long as I was with them. And I didn’t really care what I looked like, as long as I was with them. I only hesitated for a second when my 5-year-old pulled me up onto the big kids’ giant play area, where water showers down continuously from all over, and you have no hope of coming out of it as anything less than drenched. I took a deep breath and dove through the torrent, holding onto my laughing, loving little boy’s hand as we headed to a water slide.

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The Verse that Became My “Mommy Motto”

July 28, 2015

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Life in Lape Haven: The Verse that Became My Mommy Motto

At some point last summer, after a day of answering every “why” question that my then 4-year-old could come up with and changing my toddler out of yet another soaked outfit (Is there a sippy cup that doesn’t leak? We have not found one), I began looking for a Bible verse or quote that would encourage me as a wife, mom, and person in those moments when I felt overwhelmed, ill-equipped, or just plain exhausted.

I had the perfect spot for this inspiration: a cute little chalkboard in my kitchen.

Any mom who has ever had to prepare a meal with one child crying and hanging on her leg while the other complains of being hungry (Can you not see what I’m doing? Do you not smell the chicken roasting in the oven?) knows that the kitchen can be a battle zone of frustration and patience worn thin at the end of the day.

Searching for an uplifting “something” to help me refocus in those crazy moments, I flipped through my Bible and searched online for a verse that was encouraging, simple…and short enough to fit on the chalkboard.

I looked for the word “joy” or “joyful” because in my heart, that’s the kind of mom and wife and person that I want to be. If I’m not diligent in guarding it, my joy can be the first victim of a rough day.

When I came across Romans 12:12, it was as though all the things I needed to be reminded of in my calling as “Mommy” and “Mrs.” were efficiently, concisely summed up for me in 10 little words. (God’s cool like that.)

It says, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

Joyful. Patient. Faithful. It’s become my “mommy motto.”

Joyful in Hope

Being joyful seems as though it should be easy. I’m doing what I love – making a home for my family. I have funny, silly kids, who are smart, healthy, and imaginative. I have a hubby who loves us all and works hard to provide for us. All together we have a happy, loving home.

But as I said before, there are times when I can allow my joy to be stolen away – whiny children, disagreements with my husband, faulty expectations of perfection for myself. Parenting and marriage aren’t easy. If I don’t keep myself grounded in God’s Word and His presence, it can be even harder. After all, He is my hope. Trusting in His plans for me and His strength daily, I am reminded that my children (and husband) are truly gifts from God, given to me because He knew that with Him, I could be the mom (and wife) that they need.

Patient in Affliction

Okay, I’m not saying my family is an “affliction.” Far from it – they are a blessing. However, conflict, struggle, and potty training can test a mommy’s patience…especially potty training. Many of my days would have better outcomes if I allowed a little more understanding and patience to direct my words and actions. We all make mistakes, we are all flawed human beings, and we are all in the process of learning and growing, especially our children. Remembering how much patience God has with me, I know that I can strive to be a more patient girl, no matter how difficult or trying the circumstance.

Faithful in Prayer

I think that maybe this phrase should have been first on the list – as in, “Faithful in prayer, patient in affliction, and joyful in hope” – because our relationship with God is the foundation to everything in our life, and there is no relationship if you aren’t talking to and listening to Him daily, faithfully. My joy comes from time in His presence and resting in Him. My patience is strengthened when I have a real understanding of God’s grace and mercy toward me. If I’m not spiritually ready to face a day, I’m shooting myself in the foot.

Furthermore, I need to be faithful to cover my husband and children in prayer for God’s guidance and protection. That is one of my greatest responsibilities and privileges as a wife and mother. There is an enemy out there who wants “to steal, kill, and destroy,” and I am not going to take it lightly. I can take authority over strife or confusion or fear in our family rather than let the enemy’s plans succeed in our home.

So that’s the verse I doodled out on my cute little chalkboard in the kitchen after a particularly trying day, and it’s been there, exactly as I wrote it out, for close to a year now.

Has this past year been smooth sailing, all rainbows and sunshine? Are my children perfectly behaved angels and my hubby never irritating and always chick-flick-hero perfect? Um, no.

But I know there are days that could have been horrible, disastrous even, had I not taken a second to remind myself of that verse and correct MY behavior, change MY perspective, or seek God for wisdom or intervention in MY situation.

Because God’s Word is never meant to change “them.” It’s always meant to change “me.”

What is your go-to verse for encouragement on tough days?

Get a free printable of this verse here!

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Trying & Tying: Teaching Our Kids to Do Hard Things

July 20, 2015

4 Comments

Life in Lape Haven: Trying & Tying - Elijah finally tied his shoelaces

If at first you don’t succeed, tie, tie again….

With Elijah starting kindergarten this fall, we’ve been working to prepare him for this important milestone. (Mommy might not be as ready, but that’s another story). We’ve talked about what to expect during his school day, how he should behave, what skills he should have, and we know he’s ready academically, thanks to his own intelligence and his lessons on ABCMouse.com.

However, one of his biggest struggles has been learning to tie his shoes. It seemed simple enough when we started teaching him a few months ago. He had the incentive of needing to know before he went to school, and we knew he had the capability both mentally and physically. So, why is it that just last week he finally got it?

The reason was annoyingly simple (Extra annoying because I KNEW what the problem was): He didn’t want to TRY.

That was it. He stubbornly refused to attempt to tie his shoes, at least without a big to-do about how hard it was. Every time he had to put shoes on, his first defense was to announce that he wanted to wear his flip-flops. When that got shot down because of the weather (rain and flip-flops don’t mix well) or the amount of walking we’d be doing (flip-flops aren’t great for hikes in the woods), he went to either “I don’t know how, so it’ll save time if YOU do it for me” (nice try) or straight to “I don’t want to.” (Our favorite) Fun.

It wasn’t as if Brad and I were being tyrants about it, punishing him for not getting it perfect or never helping him. Nope. I had shown him – slowly – many, many, many times, and he knew how to do the initial single tie part, where you cross the laces, flip one under the other, and pull it tight. He’d actually been doing that himself for several months whenever he put on his shoes. If he ever actually attempted to finish tying the laces, we gave him help when he got stuck.

But ask him to keep trying or practicing, and a battle ensued. Every time.

Then finally last week, the heavens opened, and angels sang “The Hallelujah Chorus.” At the end of that day’s battling, Elijah managed to finish tying his shoe without any help whatsoever. He went from a grumpy, obstinate boy to a glowing, proud, capable boy in an instant.

He smiled at me and said, “Now I don’t have to be whiney or complain anymore!”

My response was, “Wow. Good job. I’m proud of you. But you know, you didn’t HAVE to be whiney or complain, even before you could tie your shoes. You CHOSE to.” He gave me a sheepish smile and nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

It would be easy (VERY easy) to be frustrated at that kind of reply if I didn’t realize how incredibly human it was.

We’ve all acted that way at some point and probably more often than we’d care to admit. If we have a task where we are faced with the possibility of failure or not knowing exactly what we’re doing or having to exert more effort to accomplish it, we’re tempted to not even bother. We’ll use lots of excuses and be disagreeable or whiney in the process. Of course, once we conquer that something difficult, everything’s sunshine and happiness.

The thing I kept stressing to Elijah was that he’ll face lots of hard things in life and avoiding them doesn’t make them disappear. I’ve always told my boys, “I don’t want you to tell me, ‘I can’t.’ I want you to say, ‘I tried.’” You may not accomplish your goal on the first attempt – in fact, you probably won’t. But until you actually try, you never, ever will.

I want him to realize that the quickest way to get past something hard is to try, then try again, and then keep trying. We all know “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” and “practice makes perfect.” We know that, but the DOING of it is where we struggle.

And as Christians, I think we should really be killing it on “doing hard things.” Why? Because we have the very Spirit of God living inside us, the Spirit who raised Christ from the dead! Talk about a hard thing…oh, wait. “With God, all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26)

Remember, Philippians 4:13, says, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” (I repeated this verse over and over during both un-medicated deliveries of my boys because labor is hard…yes, worth it – but HARD.)

In addition, since we know that God is helping us to do whatever it is that we are facing, we don’t have to be whiney or complaining about it. We really don’t. For one, that gives no glory to God, and let’s be honest, it doesn’t make us look good, either.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue…” (Proverbs 18:21) Saying over and over again, “I can’t,” “This is too hard,” “I’ll never get it,” will not help you accomplish a hard task. It will only make facing that task more miserable.

So we each have a choice: Face hard things bravely and with the determination to do our best and rely on God to help us succeed (or at least to have made a tremendous effort); or sit back, complain, and never come close to succeeding.

This might seem like a lot to expect a 5-year-old to understand and get from learning to tie his shoes, but I know he can, just like we can – if we trust God and TRY.

Embracing the Moments of “Mommy Sadness”

Trusting God Through Kindergarten

Why Our Child Goes to Public School

What I Learned (or was reminded of) at VBS

July 17, 2015

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What I Learned (or was reminded of) at VBS - Life in Lape Haven. Serving and teaching at our church's vacation Bible school is always a blessing, but it's also a lot of time and effort. One year we were reminded of how even our smallest contributions in ministering to these little children is important.

For the last few years, Brad and I have had the honor of ministering to all the precious little hearts during our church’s annual Vacation Bible School. We absolutely love it, even though it makes for a busy week (and few weeks beforehand with prep and decorating, honestly).

The below post was originally written in 2015, after a great week of fun and ministry at our VBS. I like to revisit this one every year right before a new vacation Bible school begins, just to remind myself of why we put all the time, effort, and love into these quick few days each summer.

WHAT I LEARNED (or was reminded of) AT VBS

Our theme this year was “Thailand Trek,” which allowed the children to experience a different culture and learn about how God loves all of us, no matter where we live or what we look like.

Brad and I were in charge of teaching the preschool groups in their “Bible Adventure” sessions. If you know anything about 3-, 4-, and 5-year-olds, you know that every day was a true “adventure” for us just keeping their attention and responding to those random questions and answers that children like to throw out. (Best, most random answer this week was when we were talking about the best gift that was ever given. I asked the kids what they thought it might be, and one little guy replied, “A mustache!” Haha. The actual answer is Jesus, by the way)

Having worked in children’s ministry in some way, shape, or form since junior high (It’s kind of my heart), and since I’m one of the regular Sunday school teachers for the preschool class, I did the actual teaching while my husband worked alongside me as my assistant. He’s wonderful that way, and he’s gotten pretty good at anticipating where I need him next. He’s my echo when I’m teaching a new verse or rhyme, he makes a great prop manager and effects guy, and he’s never embarrassed to be silly or goofy with the kids. Together, we make a rather good team.

At the end of each night of VBS, we gathered all the preschool groups into the main room for a closing session of a few songs and review while we waited for parents to arrive and pick up their children. I stayed near the front with the other preschool leaders, singing with the kids and greeting parents, and Brad was in the back of the room, running the sound.

The first three days went really, really well. While our days were a bit more hectic than usual, the joy of serving and seeing children respond to the love of God and the love of all the volunteers definitely made it beyond worth it.

: Our boat for “Thailand Trek”

: More room decorations

: Crafts are always big at VBS!

The last night of Thailand Trek, our family had a half-hour before we needed to be out the door to get to church when Brad and I realized that Josiah was sick, mostly because he threw up all over himself, his bed, and Brad.

Knowing that I had to teach, Brad agreed to stay home with Josiah. I was sad leaving two of my guys behind and disappointed that they wouldn’t get to be there for the last day of VBS.

At the start of each class I let the kids know that “Mr. Brad” had to stay home because our littlest boy was sick, and for the most part they accepted it, and we continued on with our lesson. However, one little boy’s response was one of the best lessons of the week.

When he heard that Brad wasn’t there, his expression clouded with genuine concern, and he asked, “But who will do our music?”

I glanced to their group leaders, who had the same reaction that I did – we were surprised, encouraged, and humbled at the same time.

Realizing that this little boy noticed the person who ran the sound every evening for the final session in the noisy, chaotic preschool class, even though no one ever brought attention to that fact, reinforced to our hearts that every little thing we did to make this VBS happen, it mattered. It was important. And it was noticed and appreciated.

Looking at the group leaders who’d corralled as many as 10 energetic children from activity to activity four nights in a row, I hoped they knew that this time of pouring themselves out for these children wasn’t in vain. I thought about the ladies who faithfully ran the registration every day, keeping track of all the children who’d come through the doors, and those volunteers tucked away in the kitchens, plating hundreds of “Thai Treats” for hungry children who would never even see them. Imagining the mess our kids made of snacks and crafts, I know there were people coming in after all the children were on their way home or the next morning, straightening, tidying, and making things ready for the next onslaught of fun.

I was privileged to be a part of this giving team. A team who did whatever was asked of them to create a memorable week for so many children and show them God’s love in so many different ways.

There are a number of scriptures that come to mind at this point: “Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me” (Mark 9:37), “And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men” (Colossians 3:23), “For as the body is one and has many members, but all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ” (1 Corinthians 12:12), and “He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much” (Luke 6:10).

One little guy reminded us that God saw and was blessed by everything we gave in His name – every hug, snack, helping hand, and silly act.

And the children, who we could barely get to sit still sometimes, were paying way more attention than we thought, too.

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A Life Lesson from My Backyard

June 29, 2015

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Life in Lape Haven: A Life Lesson from My Backyard - After a harsh winter, we had dead plants that needed to go, only I didn't want to get rid of them, even though they were dead and fruitless.

When we bought our home almost six years ago, one of the things that I loved was the yard with its cute little white picket fence and simple but pretty landscaping. During our first spring in the house, we were surprised almost daily by the flowers and plants that would pop up and beautify our outdoors.

My two favorites were easily the gorgeous coral-colored roses that flourished beneath and up to my kitchen window and the huge butterfly bush that took up at least a third of the space in the flower bed along our side back fence. They were beautiful! I could look out the kitchen window, past my lovely roses and the birds perched among them, and watch the butterflies and hummingbirds flitting around from one blossom to the next on that big butterfly bush. They were the crowning glory of our backyard, and I looked forward to their blooming every spring. *Happy sigh*

Butterflies loved our butterfly bush. (I guess it was appropriately named.)

But then… Grrr. Two winters ago it got really cold. I mean, it does that here every winter, but this time it got really, really cold. Stupidly cold. Horribly, stupidly cold.

And when spring came around, and all of God’s creation came back to life in a glorious display of color and sweet smells and amazingness, my fabulous roses and my ginormous butterfly bush did not. There were a few short, little offshoots that bloomed meekly at the base of both plants, but nothing like the grand display we were used to.

At first, I was hopeful that they were just slow in waking up, maybe pouting over the bitter winter that they’d endured.

Only they hadn’t endured. They’d died.

It took my sweet grandma visiting and point-blank telling me that my roses were dead for me to realize that they weren’t coming back – that and watching the sad, dry branches of my two favorite plants sit there, barren and ugly all season long, right through summer and far into fall.

It was just plain sad.

So this spring, once new growth started to show everywhere else, I had my husband take the saw to the dead, brittle branches of my once-delightful butterfly bush and the thorny brown remains of my roses. Some parts didn’t even need to be cut, just shoved. The dead pieces cracked off clear down to the base.

When we were done, the backyard looked empty and bare.

Looking out my window, I missed them, even as the dead plants they had been in the end. In the spot where my butterfly bush had reigned for years, there was only one skinny little green limb left standing. The roses fared better, with a remnant of maybe six or seven shoots to continue on this year.

I sent my mom a picture of the emptiness, and she replied, “If they still have life in them, they will grow really well.”

And I know she’s right. I knew that last year, when we first realized they weren’t going to make it, but I just didn’t want to let go of what they had been.

Silly, isn’t it, to hold onto something dead instead of embracing and nurturing the new life that is there? (Yeah, there’s a lesson here among brittle, breaking branches and fruitless limbs…God’s good like that.)

How many times do we do that in life, and with much bigger issues than a plant in the backyard?

God wants us to grow, continuously. To become more and more like Him. To let go of the things that are fruitless, dead, and honestly, downright ugly. Of course, change is never totally fun. Letting go of something that was once great (or seemed great) is hard.

But do we really want to allow it to take up a place in our life when there is something new and vibrant ready to grow in its place?

When we let God remove those decaying things from our life, you might think it will feel emptier, in a way, just like my backyard looks to me now. Loosing relationships, changing habits, sacrificing whatever God has asked – it WILL feel different than before. But that’s a good thing.

Sure my yard might look emptier, but it also looks healthier than it did, even somewhat larger. Everything that’s left is growing and green. And now I have hope for the future growth that will come where once all I could see was death and the past.

Isaiah 43:18 & 19 says, “Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

Whatever God is calling you to let go of, do it. Make room for and embrace the new. Look forward with hope to what He wants to spring forth in your life.

From my window, a single thriving bloom is much more beautiful than an entire shrubbery of lifelessness.

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