I had gotten up early. Everything was ready. The baby Jesus doll was hidden. Gifts were wrapped. Cinnamon rolls were formed, rising, ready to bake.

My 4-year-old son was the first to rise. He shuffled downstairs, carrying his new Lightning McQueen car he’d received for his birthday just four days prior.

I bound over, excited. “Good morning, sweetie! Do you know what today is?”

He rubs his eyes, scrunches up his face. “Can I play with my toys?”

I continue: “It’s Christmas! Isn’t that exciting?! And now you get to look for baby Jesus!”

He runs over to the couch, hides his face in a pillow. “I don’t want to look! I want to play!”

“But … after we find baby Jesus we can open your presents!” My mind races. We’re supposed to be at my parents’ house at 10am. We still have to do baby Jesus, open gifts, and deliver hot cinnamon rolls to a family down the road.

My son starts to cry. “I don’t want to open presents! I just want to play with my toys.”

This is unbelievable. I shake my head. What child doesn’t want to open presents? Why is my family always the one where nothing goes right?

I promise him there are more toys to be had, and we finally get him to the tree. He opens a box, a gift sent from a relative. It’s a package of socks. His face falls. Now I’m irate. Really? Come on people, I’m trying to get my kid excited about Christmas and you gave him socks for crying out loud!

“Mommy, I don’t want socks I just want to play with my toys!” Now he’s crying and I’m on the verge.

Eventually we make it out the door. My dear husband, wanting to cheer me up, suggests we stop at Starbucks. He runs in while I stay in the car. It takes him another fifteen minutes because the line is so long. Seriously, people, it’s Christmas! Go home and be with your families! By now we’re an hour late and it shows on my face. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I’m on the verge of tears. Why am I so irrational? It’s Christmas!

Eventually, we make it to the family’s house to deliver the cinnamon rolls. We’ve been doing the Twelve Days of Christmas and it’s our day to reveal ourselves.  Their whole family comes out on the porch, all hugs and laughter and genuine joy. I notice they’re all still in jammies. I ask about their day, what their plans are, still struck by how happy they all are.

The mom smiles and responds, “Oh we just relax, stay in our jammies all day. We play games or do something fun. You know, whatever.”

Whatever.

That’s what I’m missing.

The gift of whatever. When we give our family our expectations, everybody loses. We wrap up our ideals, our dreams of the “perfect” day, and then expect them to perform according to our plan. When they don’t, we’re frustrated. All in the name of the most wonderful time of the year.

What if, instead of giving expectations, we gave the gift of whatever. If we decided that whatever happened on a holiday, we’d be happy and thankful. That the only expectations we had were for ourselves, expecting ourselves to be kind. Expecting ourselves to be gracious. Expecting ourselves to be willing to go with whatever.

The gift of whatever might be just what our families need. A fun, flexible holiday where the only thing that’s set in stone is the certainty of joy.

{Over with my favorite Frugalistas today at FrugalLivingNW. Come join us!  I pray you have the gift of whatever under your tree this year … Thanks for reading…}

 

You don’t!

I love this quote from Jared Wilson,

“We all know we could use more Bible, but we often forget we could use less of everything else.”

Isn’t it true that making time for what matters is often simply a matter of what we choose not to do. So, here are a few of the things I purposefully don’t do.  NOTE: None of these things are bad, they might be the very things you’re trying to make more time for! That’s great! But for me, these are the things I limit, in order to make time for writing and playing.

• I don’t spend much time on Facebook. (A couple minutes at the most, every few days.)
• I don’t surf the web. 
• I don’t watch TV.
• I don’t cook elaborate meals.
• I don’t have a spotless house. (love that muddy footprints pic above. That’s my house!)
• I hardly ever shop. (I do a monthly Winco trip/Trader Joe’s trip and use Amazon Prime (free shipping) for gifts, books, etc. Other than that we just don’t shop much.)
• I don’t read lots of blogs.  (I know, awful! I totally don’t blame you if you don’t have time to read mine. I consistently read a few, and periodically check others of people I love.)

The secret to doing it all is just NOT doing it all, right?

Living purposefully. Choose wisely. Laying out our days before the Father and asking Him what He would want for our minutes, our moments.  We’ll only learn how to “do” when we learn how to “don’t.”

Now, am I 100% satisfied with my daily routine? Of course not! Always in progress. There’s another list of things I DON’T do but this isn’t on purpose, it’s just the things that inevitably slip to the wayside. I really would love to make more time for these things … perhaps you can help by sharing YOUR ideas? I don’t …

• Exercise. That is, during the winter. I love running when the weather is nice. But how to schedule in winter-time exercise? It’s just not working right now. Would love to fit this in.
• Thoughtful gift-buying. I do love buying people gifts but often don’t take the time to really invest in something special. I’d also love to hand-make gifts … Would love to take more time for this.
• Service-volunteering. My “ministry” is heavy on teaching, leading, mothering, etc. but lower on the down-and-dirty service type things. Again, this is a season, but would love to make more time for serving in those ways.
• Decorating. I kinda gave up on house-decorating. In some ways it’s freeing, and I actually love our simple lifestyle, but in some ways it’d be fun to spend more time sprucing things up. It’s just not the season. Someday.

So… What are the things that you purposefully DON’T do and the things perhaps you don’t but really wish you did … Thoughts?

*For the record, no I don’t have a housekeeper or anything like that. BUT, if I became extra busy with a book or speaking engagements (or if I worked full-time like many of you!) this would be the first thing I’d do.  Paying a hardworking, honest housekeeper can be an excellent use of finances, if you have the ability, but that’s another topic. For now, I don’t have one.

And by all means I don’t have it all figured out! Would you share with me your own “do it all” and “don’t do it all” tips and thoughts? I would love to hear!

{Thank you for sharing, reading, and giving me moments of your precious time! I take your time seriously and pray not to waste it! By grace, Kari}

PS, Keepin’ it real: Last night before my mentor meeting I felt totally overwhelmed, like I hadn’t had enough time to prepare for the girls, we also had community group in our home while I was gone, and I felt bad for leaving them all because I had two commitments at the same time, I tucked my children into bed at 9:30PM (!), and this morning I woke up to dirty dishes in the icy cold water in the sink. Ha — see when we juggle many balls we inevitably drop them all on the floor and it’s ok!

 

Yesterday we talked about the oft-thought (though not oft-spoken) question, “How do you do it all?” We looked at the comparison trap, but also at how helpful it can be to really share the nitty-gritty how-we-git-er-done details of daily life. As promised, my thoughts: First, very simply — call it good, bad, hugely helpful or completely inapplicable, here’s the nitty gritty of what I do:

• Blogging/Writing/Speaking: I “work” from about 2-4 each day and then sometimes on Fridays. Heidi naps and Dutch has “quiet play time” during this time, so I curl up on the couch and write. It’s not a long enough chunk of time to really work on the book, but I can usually write a post, or at least get caught up on email, plan my study-times, etc.  Jeff is off on Fridays, so I try to work Fridays until 4pm. This gives me a longer stretch of time to study or work on the book. For the past few months, though, these Fridays have been hard to come by. Hence the previously-mentioned tears. Come January they’ll be reinstated for good. {Note: This is the same habit I’ve had for 5 years, through seminary, etc. It’s morphed with infant sleeping-schedules but always the general afternoon was mommy/quiet time.}
• Quiet times: In the mornings I need Jesus! Again, this is harder now that the kids share a room and get up earlier, and since it’s too cold in their rooms for them to play. So we let them sit in front of the fire and read books or play quietly until 8am. From 6-8am is my own time. Bible, prayer, sometimes shower. Yes, sometimes they’re crawling on me, or asking for a snack, but as they become more independent (can get an apple from the fridge, for example) this is getting easier. {Note: No, there’s no rule that quiet time comes in the morning, but I just have to have to set my compass straight on Jesus first thing or the rest day will be off-course!}
• Reading: Reading is sacred! I save reading for evenings. I try not to blog or write at night since the screen-light isn’t good right before bed (although right now it’s 9pm so go figure), but reading is the perfect wind-down activity. Lately Jeff and I have been reading together at night, even better! {Note: Whether or not you like to read, make time to feed your soul with good input!}
• Meetings & playdates: I really try not to overdo these. Because I’m an introvert (who loves people!) I have to have plenty of alone/downtime or else I get cranky.  So I’ll have 1-2 meetings and/or playdates a week. Since my kids are in “church” twice a week and we have two community groups with kids each week, this gives them 5-6 interactions with other children (plenty!) and ensures I don’t lose my mind. If I need to meet in quiet, without kids, I’ll just do it during that 2-4 rest time in my home. My kids also cooperate and behave much better when we have plenty of time just us, at home.
• Hubby & Kids: Thursday is date-night with my man. We only go out once a month, but since we’re both homebodies we prefer staying in anyway. This is usually popcorn, scrabble, a movie, or a good book together. Usually just time to talk uninterrupted is the best part.  For my kids, because I’m a stickler on my “morning time” and “rest time” space, I really do try to give them my undivided attention the other times of the day. We play, do school, clean together, etc. during the mornings and late afternoons. I don’t check my email or facebook during those other times (unless they’re really engrossed in something or playing together and have forgotten about me.
• Housework/Cooking: I list this last because it is last! No, I do housework and cook but not elaborately. I clean a bit each day, mid-morning, and have the kids with me or helping. We do laundry together. We make beds together, straighten up together, clean out the fridge together. Today we sorted all the toys together, giving some away.  I cook 3-4 times a week, between 4-5:30 and then rely on leftovers the other nights. {Note: Perhaps it’s pathetic how simple our meals are but it’s a HUGE time-saver and my hubby & kids are happy so it works. Today I made potato vegetable soup at noon and ate it for lunch and dinner. Pathetic? Maybe. But it was yummy, filled our tummies, and gave me an afternoon free!}

 

Our kids were the first to call it a farm. When the appraiser came to our door, right after our other house sold, he opened the front door and announced, “Our house sold! Now we’re moving to a farm. And we’ll have cows and chickens and horses!”

Um … not quite.

Some of you know how much of an animal-lover I am. There will be no horses or cows grazing in these pastures. I might concede to getting a goldfish but that would be a stretch. Maybe chickens down the road because I’d love the fresh eggs but that would be a ways down the road.  I’m in no hurry to add more daily chores to my plate.

I do have aspirations for a garden. We already have four large fruit trees, and the neighbor has an enormous, lush, plentiful garden I can see from my bedroom window, and I daydream of one for us too. However … yesterday while I studied for 3 hours for an upcoming women’s conference, I noticed that my neighbor spent those entire three hours weeding her garden. Hmm… a garden that big may need to wait a few years. Like 50 years. Until I’m retired.

But despite our decided lack of corn or wheat or jersey cows, we’re set on calling it our farm anyway. What are our hopes for crop yields this year?

We’re simply hoping to grow some godliness and raise a small crop of kids.

Certainly we can do that anywhere. It doesn’t take acreage to get those results. But for us, I must say it is a refreshing change to have a spot of earth and breathe deep and run hard and track a little mud into the house every once in a while. I don’t know exactly what it is but the moment I walked in this place I could feel my soul expand.  Like, Oh, I didn’t realize I was choking to death until I finally was able to breathe.  Maybe it’s the fresh air or room to run or maybe it’s just walking in grace and simply  and unapologetically being Jeff and Kari Patterson: Children of God, made in His image, and imperfectly reflecting His glory in all our lovelimess. 

Because I’ll confess: I know what it’s like to walk in shoes that don’t fit. Haven’t we all had those moments when we looked down at our painfully pinched toes and wondered, “Whose are these and why am I wearing them?”

Certainly walking in the freedom of grace and simply being who God made you to be does not always require a new address. Probably never. But oh my is it fun to tune down all the other voices and turn His up real loud.  His voice brings peace, clarity, calm.

His voice stilled the disciple’s raging waters. And it stills ours too.

For me, this farm represents the peace and calm of surrendering to His will, following His still, small voice, walking in the unique path hand-created for me. This farm, my little treehouse that rises above it all, represents God my refuge. In all the chaos and conflicting voices of our world, He lifts us up, calms the storm, silences the cacophony, and whispers His love, His grace, His simple instructions.

{Where, friends, is your place of refuge? Can you find a closet where you can crawl up onto His lap, wrap yourself in His Word, and hear nothing but His voice alone?  Any ways today that perhaps you might slip off shoes that don’t fit? We’re much more effective for the gospel when we slide into a pair hand-crafted for us, amen? Thanks for reading…}

 

Fourteen precious souls sat in a circle – we, a small group of women, part of a large group of women, adventuring through the book of Galatians. We talked, shared our desire to remain faithful each day in spending time with God in His Word. But a common theme surfaced through almost every voice:

“I’m not a morning person.”

Have you ever said those words?

If you have it’s totally fair, the claim is legit. Research shows that our Circadian Locomotor Output Cycles Kaput (CLOCK) genes affect whether we prefer mornings or evenings. It does seem strange to me that everyone I meet claims they are not a morning person, but hey, no one knows you like you know you!

However, whether we like it or not, mornings happen, so we better figure out a way to make them work and make them work well.

Insert Tsh Oxendreider.

The girl is just so stinkin’ helpful, that’s what she is. If you’ve ever read her stuff, none of it is rocket science, it’s just that she presents her ideas in a fresh, creative, easy-to-implement way that makes you nod and say, “Yeah, I can do that!”

Her latest e-book, One Bite At A Time ($5) gives you 52 easy-to-do projects for simplifying your life. One of my favorites?

Establish your 5-part morning routine.

She explains:

A methodical morning routine is a great way to treat yourself to a little soul care. Instead of starting your day by responding to the stimulus around you, you’re proactively creating the day you want to have. When you wake up and do the most essential things first, you get a good start to your day. Your mind is better focused on the rest of your day’s tasks. And you’ll do a better job taking care of the people you love most. In short, you’re on top of things. Treat yourself to a little order and sanity before the chaos of life begins.

I like this. And while I already had an established routine for quiet time and Bible study, this helped me work a few other things in, such as exercise and showering .  It also helped me work a few things OUT, such as checking my email. Listing out my five things helped me see that the way to get it all done in the morning was to be more disciplined about not letting the outside world into my world until I’d already nourished my body and soul. I look at it as the five things that fill my cup each morning. These are things that FILL, not drain. There will plenty of draining that happens all day, we need to start being FILLED!

Here are some ways you might choose to fill your cup: Take a shower, pray, read your Bible, drink a glass of water, journal, stretch, exercise, listen to a particular song, go for a walk, make your bed, take vitamins, sit outside with a cup of coffee. Pick five and fill on up!

There’s no perfect morning routine, and I don’t share my routine because it needs to be yours. If you really cannot think in the morning perhaps you do your Bible study later in the day but just take 5 minutes to get on your knees and thank Him for life? Or perhaps you listen to the Bible on audio while you’re still in bed? Do what fills your cup.  This is my cup, and I’d love to hear about yours — perhaps we can inspire one another and live our days brim full. {Thanks for reading…}

–

The five ways I fill my cup each morning…

1. Get face-down and thank God for the gift of another day of life.

2. Make coffee or tea

3. Quiet time, Bible study, prayer

4. Exercise (a run or work-out video)

5. Shower

(In case you’re wondering, yes I must begin this early in order to be done by the time my little monkeys rise. But it’s worth it because when I see their faces I can smile wide and say, YES, I’m ready for you!)

 

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

-Jesus

A blessed labor day to you, a day for resting in Christ alone … A day for:

Wind-blown hair in the rumble-seat …

Lifting up arms and enjoying the ride…

Peaking in on ice-cream almost ready…

Getting every last lick…

A day for chomping cherries…

A day for long naps…

And long stories…

Labor day is for BBQs and no stove to scrub. For paperplates and no dishes to wash. For chalk on driveways and ketchup on fingers.  For sitting long and laughing loud. For remembering, in it all, that it is finished. {Which is the reason we labor, and the reason we rest.}

 

I am a fringe writer.

I write during night-times, nap-times and bath-times (perched next to the tub while tots splash).  The moment a child goes down the laptop screen flips up. I scribble words on receipts, packing slips and envelopes. Some of them even survive and find their way to you.

And as some of you know, some of them are stringing themselves together into a book, so more than ever the laptop calls: Open me. Write!

Sometimes it even whines. Nags: You really should be writing, you know…

So we are at Black Butte now. A glorious vacation with out-of-town family and cloudless skies and swimming pools and tennis courts and 17 miles of biking trails. But I brought two-dozen books and high hopes of finishing Galatians studies and polishing chapters and, Lord willing, producing a few posts as well for our sweet space here?  For this mommy, vacation means free time and free time means writing time and here we are and it’s late Sunday night and you will be here in the morning to say hello and I hold out my hands to you and they are …

Empty.

But, oddly enough, I am full.

Because you see each time I go to God I keep sensing His loving urge to just live this moment now. To ride the bikes with kids and sprawl on floor with Legos and stop and watch the deer just outside the kitchen window.  To snuggle long with my little ones and even longer with my man. To kneel in the kiddie pool and comb slowly through those curls and read the book ”just one more time” before the last kiss goodnight.

I suppose it’s because in order to fill up with fuel you have to actually stop the car.

Actually turn off the engine.

And. Just. Sit.

Still.

And today we, my man and I, raced bikes like kids to the tennis courts and played like we used to back in the day and then hot and sweaty jumped straight in the pool ice-cold. Then one more game dripping wet before climbing back up the hill to our sleeping babes.

That’s right, I thought as I pedaled hard, I musn’t forget to live.

Perhaps that goes for you as well?

{We all have pressing projects, you know.}

So as I enjoy these next two days, I’m delighted to share with you two of my favorite nuggets from the past, back by popular demand. (Because apparently you really love a good laugh at my expense.) Poop and hair dye are on the horizon, along with some of the best spiritual lessons I’ve learned to date. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you also have a moment, today, to stop. Refuel. Remember to live.

Thanks for reading — and for your grace as I rest.

 

I think we’ve finally found our pace.

{at least for now}

This fall will be three years that we’ve been at our church/job, and although of course we have our good days and bad days like any other family, I feel like we’re finally in-stride with our family’s pace. I stepped away from my role as Director of Women’s Ministry and now get to focus on leading Bible study, and we’ve whittled down our evening commitments to only 3/week. Mind you, I love our commitments, but when there’s too many of them we begin to resent the very things we love.

Thinking about this pace that feels so good reminded me of a phenomenal book, Margin, that I read a few years ago. If you’ve never read it, check it out! A few thoughts from the archives…

Americans have reached an all-time high point for depression, anxiety, suicide, stress, burn-out, abuse, and divorce.  While life-expectancy is at an all-time high, perhaps quality of life, that is happiness and contentment, is at an all time low.  Something is wrong. Perhaps it is that we have reached a limit and we’re in desperate need of margin.

Margin is defined as the space between your load and your limit. On a piece of paper, the margin is the white space between the written words and the edge of the page.  As a grader in seminary, let me tell you that my #1 pet peeve in grading is opening a paper and seeing that the student has done one of three things:  used size 10 font instead of 12, snuck in 1.75 line space instead of double, or changed the margins ever so slightly so the words creep over dangerously close to the edge of the page. They might think I don’t notice…but after reading 25 of them, I notice!  And far from being impressed by their covert ways, I am annoyed because what this tells me is that they were incapable of completing the assignment in the given space.  So, they have to cheat by doctoring margins.  That bugs me.  I have been known to write across the top of the page, “Ah!  Give me some white space!”

So we have done this with our lives. In the name of diligence, we have clicked on those margins and dragged them closer and closer to the edge of the page, instead of simply acknowledging the appropriate boundaries necessary for mental, emotional, physical, financial, and spiritual health, and respecting those boundaries.  Instead we have arrogantly assumed that the rules of margin aren’t for us, and we’ve packed our lives to the point of breakdown.

If you’re not convinced that this is an epidemic, check out these stats from the doctor who authored the book:  “Adjusting for population growth, ten times as many people in Western nations today suffer from unipolar depression, or unremitting bad feelings, without a specific cause, then did half a century ago.  Americans and Europeans have ever more of everything except happiness.”  In one morning, nine of the eleven patients this doctor saw where on antidepressents.  We are truly living in a “deteriorating psychic environment.” He observes that “millions of suburbanites seem to find that ‘the good life’ is only endurable under sedation.”

Not only are we sad, we we are overfed, under-exercised, sleep-deprived as well.  We are in more debt than ever before.  We have less leisure time, even though it was predicted in the early 20th century that by this time we would be down to a 2-3 day workweek because we could produce all that we “need” withing that amount of time. Ha!  Whoever predicted that took no classes in human behavior.  We don’t work for our needs. Instead, the workweek has risen rapidly over the past 20 years:  “The average work year for prime-age working couples has increased by nearly 700 hours in the last two decades.”  Exhaustion, burn-out, stress, and mental breakdown have become the norm.

I know it’s not simple, but I pray this weekend you and your family can enjoy some white space.

We’re actually camping at the beach right now — sand in our toes, smoke in our hair and s’mores in our teeth.

A little white space is good for the soul. Thanks for reading — happy weekend.

 

He leads me beside still waters… (Psalm 23:2)

—

One thing I always notice about getting away (on a vacation or retreat) is how miraculously God allows us to see things from a different vantage point. Though I know we don’t drive to a new locale and physically look back at our life, it is almost as if physically removing ourselves somehow supernaturally enables us to see the daily grind of our days with a startlingly new perspective.

That’s why getting away is so good.

My “get away” was simply a week spent with my kids and parents out at Riversong, their home on the river in the middle of nowhere.  (Jeff was out of town.)  I cooked a lot of beef dinners (because I love you, Dad), went to bed at 8 o’clock each night, and spent precious early mornings with the Father every day.  My days were pretty quiet but His voice was loud and clear.

Creation has a way of bringing perspective. Perhaps it is because it displays God’s invisible attributes of eternal power and divine nature (Rom 1:20).  When we get out into nature we see God’s nature–our man-made creations pale in comparison.  When I stand at the back of my parents’ property, surrounded by nothing but trees, river, birds, hillside–the whole earth is hushed.  In the quiet, still moment my spirit finally slows to a sacred stop.  And in that moment I stare at the rushing water and can finally see things clearly.

In the stillness I can feel that am restless.

In the quiet I can hear that my life is loud.

Without being distracted I can see that I often am.

While I’m there, the trees ask me each morning if I am abiding. The river asks if I am freely allowing God’s divine resources to flow through my life.  The snow that falls reminds me my scarlet sins are gone. The rain and rainbows gives a fresh promise God is not through with me yet. There is so much grace here.

Here in the stillness.

He restores my soul… (Psalm 23:3)

—

By nature I’m about as still as a hurricane.  My husband says I am a shark–if I stay still I’ll die.  My dad once told me if you stop moving and don’t use your muscles they’ll atrophy and you’ll lose ‘em. Apparently I took that to heart because I’ve never stopped moving since.  To be fair, in most of my activity there for the most part a joyful enthusiasm and a striving to steward what God has given me. But also there can be the very unholy frenzy of distraction, control, and addiction to adrenalin.  I don’t like the dust to settle where I can see it, I’d rather just keep it whirling around in motion.

But I’m learning, for moments, to be still.  In prayer, in Scripture, in Sabbath-naps and silent moments in each other’s arms on the couch.  I inhale the smell of Jeff’s neck and I am home. In extra-long rocking chair time with Heidi, in “one more story” bedtime snuggles with Dutch, even in small but priceless moments in Winco of letting Dutch scoop the flour out of the bin into the bag all by himself… in eternally slow, tiny scoops.  Stillness helped me crouch down beside him and memorize his face. He beamed with accomplishment and held up the bag, his trophy.  A moment I would have missed were it not for stillness.

How many moments have I missed?

Of course life does not consists merely of stillness.  I will still continue to be a whirlwind of activity, Lord willing, for all the days He gives me here on earth. But I am thankful for my week away and for a renewed commitment to stillness. In a world where productivity equals value and busyness equals evidence of worth, God’s words speaks cross the grain and restores our souls.

Be still and know that I am God.

I will be exalted in the nations.

I will be exalted in the earth. (Psalm 46:10)

 

Ahhhh…it’ s 7:30pm, that perfect time of day.  We’re out at RiverSong for the weekend, and I just tucked my two little wonders into bed.  It’s been a long and wonderfully exhausting day, the end of a long and wonderfully exhausting week.  Prepping to lead an all-day women’s leadership retreat today, hosting out of town family, celebrating Jeff’s birthday, studying/preparing/teaching the High Schoolers, toting the kids to a rehearsal dinner, finishing up doing some pre-marital counseling, juggling several doctor’s apppointments, braving my monthly grocery run with kids in tow, and preparing all the food myself for the retreat (so I wouldn’t break my silly grocery budget that I made the mistake of telling all of you about!), this week was full of both ministry and mommy commitments.  Now before you start commenting on how I need margin and boundaries in my life, I promise that I do.  This is not the norm for us; we really don’t overbook, but sometimes things just all happen to fall on the same week and there’s nothing you can do about it, you know?  What was I going to do, cancel Jeff’s birthday?   No, I did cut out some other things and it was actually a fabulous faith-building week as I watched God organize, arrange, and re-arrange my schedule so that everything fit into place.  The divine juggle.  (And my calendar this week is virtually empty, I promise.)

But speaking of the juggle, today was a very clear picture to me of what that juggle looks like.  My shift as mommy started this morning at 6:30am–bright and early since we’re away from home–when Dutch shuffled out of his room in his dinosaur jammies with a big smile and “Good morning!”  I had been up since 5am finishing up last minute prep for our leadership retreat today, so he snuggled next to me while I finished my studying, then I got dressed and ready while he had conversations with his lizards in the bathtub.  Then toweling off, getting dressed, and downstairs for the day.

While oatmeal cooked on the stove, I turned to the other side of the kitchen and tossed the salad for our retreat lunch.  Back and forth I went: Stir the oatmeal … scurry across the kitchen … chop carrots … dish up the oatmeal … sprinkle feta … blow on the oatmeal that’s too hot mommy it’s burning my tongue… slice the bread for the lunch … fill up the sippy cup … load up all the food in the cooler for the leadership retreat.  Answer the phone (we’re staying at my parent’s house while Jeff’s back home with his own ministry commitments), hold the phone in the crook of my neck while rinsing salad bowls. My sweet Jeff is sharing grand and godly advice about leadership and I’m chuckling to myself because he is talking about being filled with the Spirit and I tell him I am up to my elbows in dishwater while Heidi hangs on my legs.  Don’t get me wrong–I agreed with what he was saying, I just had to laugh because in the moment being Spirit-filled means letting God give me the grace to still give Heidi blow-bellies on the floor even though I know I have a ton to do and exactly 13 minutes before the retreat ladies arrive at the cabin next door.  Of course it all worked out.  In fact, it was fun to hear from other moms who came to the retreat–they all had tales of hurrying home for sports tournaments, overnight birthday party sleepovers, hosting ministry events in their homes, preparing for family vacations.  When it was time to calendar out the 2010-2011 mininstry year schedule, iphones popped out and eyes narrowed at the screens as we juggled ministry meetings and swim lessons and husbands’ work schedules.   I’m certainly not alone in this balancing act.

But a little nugget of scripture wowed me afresh this morning, as I finished my prep for the retreat, and as I thought of this balancing act that is the life of a ministry-mommy.  Like I said, we all do it.  That’s why God gave us hips.  We hold a baby on a hip while counseling someone over the phone, stirring dinner, mouthing “no” to a toddler sneaking a cookie, and then somehow picking up dirty laundry with our toes (or am I the only one who does that?).  We often occupy two worlds.  In my closet I have my “magic” jacket.  It’s long and cute so no matter what I’m wearing at home–filthy t-shirt, covered in snot and spaghetti sauce–I can throw on that coat, pull back the hair in a power pony-tail and walk into the church office in some semblance of a sane woman.   I love that coat… The coat is this really beautiful blue and the sleeves are puff…  oops, sorry, enough about the coat. The Scripture–that’s what wowed me this morning.  This is what it says of David.  David was the shepherd boy, tending his father’s flocks, but he was then anointed and proclaimed to be the future king of Israel.  He is then called into the service of Saul, the current king of Israel, so he serves Saul there in the king’s service, and stands with the army who is facing the Philistines in the valley of Elah.  But this is what is said of him, during that season:

“David went back and forth from Saul to feed his father’s sheep at Bethlehem.” 1 Samuel 17:15

I know, not the live-changing prayer-of-Jabez verse of the century, but this just struck me this morning. David has been anointed the future king of Israel, he’s been called into the current king’s service. But, you know, somebody still has to take care of dad’s sheep!  And David remains faithful to that responsibility, tending his father’s sheep.  And he runs back and forth, balancing both worlds.

Now I’ve been to the Valley of Elah, where this is taking place, and I’ve been to Bethlehem.  We drove a bus between the two places.  We’re not talking a quick 2 minute zip in my Pilot over to the church office.  This is a long run.  And he did this, day after day, remaining faithful to both responsibilities.  He must have gotten tired too.

Of course that was just for a season … just like being the mom of young children.  I love this season, and although in some ways I’d love to just snuggle up with them and do nothing but read shark books and give blow bellies, I also know that for this season God has called me to do some juggling, just as so many of you moms are doing as well.  And I get tired. And you do too.  But David did too.  And while I do struggle with knowing  whether or not I’m doing the right thing–taking time to lead and study and teach–God’s revealed that these are my marching orders for this year, and his marching orders are always the best.  Besides, I’m trusting that as I study and steep myself in God’s Word and ministry, and do so with joy and grace and balance, that Lord willing my children might just see and want to know what’s so captivating about this God of the Bible.  When I was little my mom led Bible study.  Because I watched her, I always had pretend Bible studies, lining up my dolls around me and reading them the Bible, which I held upside down as I babbled make-believe verses.  I think I even wore pretend glasses.

So I will continue to run back and forth. At least for this season.  My family is absolutely first, but I’m thankful also for the privilege of serving God in ministry to women as well.  And for all of you, who juggle kids and wear numerous hats and perhaps have your own “magic coat” for those needed quick transitions, I pray for grace and strength, to run back and forth with joy.