a life lesson.

You woke up much earlier than usual today.  You finished your spelling homework, unloaded part of the dishwasher, and had your backpack on before 6:15.  We took exit 193 earlier than usual too.  Jenny picked you up at the overpass & I actually made it to school a lot earlier than normal as well.

I didn't get to wave goodbye to you or say "I'll see you after school."  It was fast and furious and just not normal.  Some days aren't normal.  Get used to that because I don't really think {normal} even exists. 

I was reading this morning about praying children through their day - specifically boys.  I bookmarked the book that was referenced as one to buy, and then just went about my day.  I probably should have stopped and prayed at least 7 times for you today.  God doesn't put reminders to pray over your children in front of you for no reason. Why I don't take hints very well, I'll never know.  Probably because I think "I" have everything under control. Not a good excuse. I'm not in control, and neither are you.

You are my boy.  Yes, I know I have 2, but you've always been the one I have learned the most about myself from.  The good, the bad, and the pathetically ugly.  You are so much your dad, but there are bits and pieces that are totally me in how you react and even over-react.

When I picked you up tonight, I was running late.  You were quiet.  I signed you out, and headed toward the door.  And then I heard it. It was almost a whisper, but kind of like a shout at the same time.

 "You probably need to talk to Mason about calling girls {fat} tonight ..."
"Huh?!"
You were staring at me with huge eyes, filling with tears, begging me to continue walking without saying a word or asking for details.  Your stare said it all.  "Please mom, please."
"What happened" - I questioned as I turned completely around.
"He called a girl {fat}."
My jaw dropped and your eyes welled.
"Thank you ... and yes, I'll talk to him."
We left your school with exhausting steps.
Tired, exhausting, heavy steps.

............................

Fat. ... {fat?!?}

My mind raced.  You called a girl {fat}? was all I could think while watching you walk toward the car.  I said nothing.  We got to the car, and you repeated the same few words over and over again ... "I didn't say it mom, I didn't mean it ... I didn't mean to ... I didn't do it."

How do I teach you that it is too late to not mean it?

How do I model that what you say {even when you didn't really mean it} can't be taken back?

How do I help you learn from this life lesson that so many adults struggle with themselves?

How do I explain that you have to do what's right because it's right - without letting your emotions take over?

It's a life lesson I struggle with daily too. Go figure.

..............................................

I stayed really calm, adjusted the rear-view mirror so I could see your face, and then said four words.

Tell me the truth.

And you sobbed.

I didn't need details, I didn't need to know where it happened or how it happened ... I just wanted the truth.

....................................

Telling the truth when you know you did something wrong is hard.  So stinking hard.

Admitting that you were wrong.  Hard.

Fessing up to a mistake.  Hard.

Learning from the mistake.  Hard.

Asking for forgiveness.  Hard.

It's all hard.

Every bit of a 5 second mistake is hard.

.....................................

You're human.

You're an 8 year old boy that acts a whole lot older than that on most days.  You make us proud with your character traits.  You're known as {kind} and {caring}.  And I want you to know that it's ok to not be perfect.  Remember that forever.  Everyone messes up.  Everyone.

Today was a life lesson day.  One that will happen again in some form or fashion - that's a guarantee. One that you'll probably soon forget about, but one you have to learn from.  Have to.

Your words can be a curse or a blessing.

They can be just right or all wrong.

They can heal or they can hurt.

They define a huge part of who you are - in good ways and bad.

But you know what Mason, you're forgiven.

You've been set free because of a God that loves you more than anything else.

You're redeemed because He knows your heart and He knows that through the tears and the truth ... peace is found.
He is all about the condition of your heart & really ... that's all he cares about.  Your heart.  The way you love.  The way you live. The way you show Him to others.

................................

I'm proud of you - and I'm not alone.

I'm proud of your words, your actions, and your spirit.

And I'm proud of who you're becoming - because even in the bad, good is found.

Thank you for looking back at where you've been - and then forward at where you want to go from here.

I pray that you learn from every glance, every step, and every word.

I want you to see {fat} as a chance to be BIG for God ... and nothing else.

Because being HUGE for God is really all that matters.

And that's the truth.

hungry.

I've spent the past several weeks trying to watch what I eat.  I take lunch from home almost every day.  I've followed a menu and cooked with what we have even when a pizza or chinese food sounds better.  I've stayed clear of pop, filled up on water, and have found that nothing has really changed.  I still weigh the same, my clothes still fit the same, and I'm still running on empty most of the time.

I'm hungry.

And I'm staring life in the face with eyes wide open - looking for any amount of goodness that might be headed my way. Looking for it in the fog, and in the early morning sun.  Looking, searching, and even creating it if I can.

I'm happy, my boys are happy, and the cows are happy too, but ... we're hungry.

It's the kind of hunger that can't be satisfied with stuff.

The kind that isn't longing for fluff, but for actual "meat."

And what I'm realizing is that what I'm hungry for is, and has been, right in front of me.

I don't have to be careful how much I intake, or count my steps, or even eat from a smaller plate.  I just have to follow the right plan.  His plan.

The plan that says - live your own life, don't waste it reading about someone else's or comparing it to what you think you should have.

The menu that says - eat & drink and remember Me - and then live it through all you say, do, & think - even when you don't feel like it.

The energy drink that gives strength for the day - not just for the moment.

The fruits and vegetables that offer a reminder of the burst of colors and flavors only a rainbow can hold - a rainbow that is a sign of His promise.

 So ... with that in mind,

I'm still going to watch what I eat -

I'm still going to search for goodness, and maybe create a little too -

And one thing is for certain -  I am going to stop limiting God.

I'm going to continue to follow Him, hunger for Him, trust in Him, and try to be more like Him.

And even when I fall a little short, or find myself wandering - I know He's going to be right behind me - pushing me & guiding me home.

Hunger isn't satisfied with stuff, or people, or even really good things.

I've know that for years and I've believed it to be true.

But that doesn't mean I don't need a pep talk once in a while.

Or a day with cows to remind me of what I've been in need of all along.

A mouthful of grace.

A drink of mercy.

And a plate piled with love.

Are you hungry too?

I wonder where he gets it?!

There are days when I wish someone would push a camera in my face all day long ... just so I could see if he gets this from me or if it's just a God-given gift to have 362 different expressions in a matter of hours.

I think it's a God-given gift.

And I wouldn't trade my 5-year old {gift} for anything ...

or my 8-year old gift either.

Expressions make a person awesome.  

So don't waste a minute ... go be awesome.

enough.

I know it's silly, but I often wonder if I'm enough.

I think we all do.

Am I doing enough?  Am I saving enough?  Am I resting enough?  Am I playing enough?  Am I encouraging enough?  Am I praying enough?  Am I enough?

I wonder & I fret, and I wonder some more ... and then I look up.

And I see the sky, and the clouds, and the beauty in all that is surrounding me & I remember.

It's not about me being enough or doing enough.

It's not about me at all.

It's really not even about my boys or my husband, or my mom or dad, or even my best friends being enough.

Nope.

It's about trusting in the One who is {enough} - in the light ... and in the dark.

The One who gives strength the weary & hope to the hopeless.

The One who loves the unlovely & clothes them with righteousness.

The One who protects and sings over us.

We had a bit of snow that was just enough at the end of December. It was enough to get the sleds out.  It was enough to build a snowman.  It was enough to remember that even when what you have doesn't seem like it's much - it's always enough.

It was enough to get us outside.  It was enough to slip and slide on.  It was enough to remind us of the beauty a skiff of snow can create.  It was enough.

And so tonight, as I find myself wondering if what I'm doing & who I am is enough again for the 589th time ... I'm going to remember this day in December of 2012 when it didn't seem like there was going to be enough, but there really was more than enough.

More than enough of the One who gives us just enough.

And that is enough.

I surrender.

There are NERF bullets of every size and shape at my house.

Under couches, chairs, tables.

On top of shelves, stuck to the window, and even broken in two.

Bullets that I tend to curse, but bullets I need to see.

Bullets that have the fingerprints of God all over them.

Bullets that are brightly colored for a reason.

My boys love their guns, but without bullets, they're useless.  {sort of}

I've been collecting stray bullets in a giant jar.  Every bullet I find goes in the jar, and 25 cents has to be paid to get a bullet out.  This is not a popular scenario right now, but it is teaching all of us a bit about surrender.

Surrender - because without a bullet ...

• It's giving up control.
• It's yielding to a power higher than yourself.
• It's agreeing to stop.
• It's handing over, laying down, turning in.

And it's not something we're good at around here.

We love to make the decisions.

We love to be right.

We don't enjoy voluntarily giving up anything.

We don't like to feel powerless.

We - being all {4} of us.

But so much of who we are has to do with surrender.  More than we could ever imagine.

If we want to truly be fee, we have to understand that this life we think we're in control of really isn't ours.  And the more I think about it, the more I realize that for surrender to be grasped, it has to be modeled.

How can I expect my boys to give up that which they love so very much, when I'm not giving up anything visible to them that I love?

How can I expect them to smile, when the person they're looking at isn't smiling back?

How can I expect {surrender}?

This is a new year.  And each day is full of choices.  Choices and chances to say {I trust in You}even if I don't understand. Opportunities to whisper or even shout:  I surrender.  Because with your hands raised high in complete submission, there is nothing left for you to control, but a whole lot for you to follow.

Surrender is something that has to be modeled, and it has been.  Jesus paved the way, and although it appeared He lost everything, He really gained it all.  And not just for Himself, but for all.

His death, His surrender, His recognition of that which He was called to do is the lead we should be mimicking.  His dance steps, His gracefulness, His humbleness - surrendering all.

...................................

I'm going to keep collecting bullets, and I'm going to keep surrendering - daily.  And hopefully my boys are going to see something different.  Not a mean mom that takes everything away, but a mom that gives purpose to the tiniest of things.
A mom that models surrender by leaking {grace} and {mercy} ... and a lot of {love} too.

My hands are up.

I'm hungry and thirsty for more than what I think I can do for myself.

And I want to know, and feel, and live the freedom that can only be found in the realization that I don't have to control everything to truly have everything.

Are your hands up?

They should be.

why do you follow us?

We don't spend much time inside.

Not much time at all.

Even when it's cold, we're outside. Outside, living.

Trying to figure out ways to stay warm, entertained, and smiling.

We run, we push, and we lead the way home - that place where you know you're meant to be.

And we're followed.

Not just by cows, but by people too.

I think they follow us for the same reasons really.

Reasons that we may never fully understand, but reasons that seem to draw the best out of those who follow.

It's as simple as this:  following a life that is shared is a life worth following.

Willingly, openly, and freely shared.

Ordinary to us, extraordinary to others.

Simple to us, supernatural to others.

Head turning, eye-raising, and definitely worth your attention.

Not because of our name, our status, our height & weight, our circle of friends, our bank account, or our stuff, but because we are sharing real, authentic, genuine life with you. Not perfect, but real and true.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

It's got Jesus written all over it ... & I pray with all that I am {and all He's made me to be} that it isn't a show you're following ... it's a life, a story, and maybe even a chapter book that always keeps you coming back for more.

Not more of us, but more of Him.

Because this really is His story.

learning to dance.

Dear friend, co-worker, relative, and perhaps even stranger,

I'm going to let you in on a little secret - which in all reality probably isn't a secret at all.

I can't dance.

I never took ballet, jazz or hip-hop ... and as hard as I tried, I could never quite get the hang of the country swing.

36 years later & I still fumble my way around the dance floor.  {some of you are nodding your heads in agreement right now ... and I'm good with that}

Cartwheels were something I watched others do with ease, while envying their graceful and seemingly effortless attempts to land a flip on the trampoline.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun was not me, but oh how I wished it was.

I was {and still kind of am} a wall-flower when it comes to letting loose and moving with the music. Oh how I wish I wasn't.

................

How can someone be so "natural" about knowing how to have fun, striking up quality conversations with just about anyone, telling stories, teaching school, journal writing, folding laundry, laughing out loud, and even swinging a golf club, but absolutely  horrible at dancing?

Maybe it's because it requires letting someone else lead, and trusting they're going to take you where you need to be.

Or perhaps it's got something to do with going with the flow of the music by actually listening to the music and not just hearing the noise.

Right now, life is a whole bunch of noise.

It's status updates. It's Pinterest. It's reality TV. It's comparing and contrasting what others have that you think you should have too.  It's not clear.  It's an ISO of 3200.  It's payment due dates in bold.  It's a messy kitchen.  It's unmade beds.  And in my world, it's being afraid to dance.

Afraid to look foolish.  Afraid to trip and fall.  Afraid to follow someone else's lead.  Afraid of saying the wrong thing.  Afraid of being misunderstood.  Afraid.

............................

This sounds a lot like my post the year I embraced the word "fearless" ... and in some ways, the two are related, but more than anything, in 2013, I want people to see me dance.

Not on a stage, not at the local bar, and not even at a wedding necessarily.

I want a stranger to see me dance with my kids across the parking lot at Wal-Mart.  I want my principal to catch a dance party  in action first thing in the morning.  I want my neighbor to watch Ian & I swinging our way around the driveway in the rain we've prayed would finally arrive.  I want my two little boys to know that their mama likes to dance.

Dancing isn't about having all the right moves and each of the counts.

Dancing is about living.

Dancing is going to be about being carefree, full of joy, footloose and fancy free in my words, in my actions, in my relationships, and in my journey with Jesus.

Dancing is going to be hearing the music of life and living it gracefully.

This word, this time of growth, this journey ... it's going to be about listening to the rhythm, feeling the beat, and choosing to grab hold of the Grip that will never let go.

....................

I know I'm going trip and fall at least once during the next 365 days, but I also know that His Grip on my life will keep me moving forward ... one step, one twist, one turn at a time... again, and again - day after day.

So as a new year finds it way into my home, my life, and my heart & soul, I'm going to pray it's full of the best kind of dance music - music that turns sorrow into joy & brings life in abundance.

~ Lindsay

By the way, did you know that you don't have to be a natural to be good at something?

True fact.

I'm going to be living proof.