“Real Simple” at Christmas time

One of my college roommates has been an editor of Real Simple since the magazine’s first issue.  For years I was a subscriber – I loved the idea, the content, the layout. But over time it started feeling less “simple.” For one thing, as its popularity rose, the issues were increasingly full of ads.  For another, no life simplification oozed out of its pages and onto my life.  Instead I got gift ideas, clothes ideas, room-makeover ideas.  Translation to me: more activity and more stuff.

My point isn’t to knock the magazine (which I still like).  It’s to say this: what do we mean by simple?  “Keep it simple,” we say, but no one knows what this looks like or how to get there.  There’s a lot of talk about simplicity out there, but precious little simplicity to be had in most corners. 

Back to good old dictionary.com, where my favorite definitions are ”not elaborate; not complicated; ordinary.”  A simple life is one in which elementary needs of life are met, and met well…  and additions and  excesses are intentionally avoided.   [To unpack "elementary", I'll again cite Mary Ostyn's list of kids' needs as it hits the big ones:  "love, food, clothes, shelter; clear expectations and responsibilities; time just to be kids; faith in a higher power than themselves.]  Simple means: focus on the majors.

What’s on the other side of that temper tantrum?

That temper tantrums are a normal part of toddler life seems self-evident.  The question has never been, “should children be permitted to have temper tantrums?” but , “how should one best respond to a child who is having a tantrum?”  The notion that children could be trained not to tantrum never occurred to me.  I didn’t know any moms who’d trained their kids not to have tantrums.

This passage in Raising Godly Tomatoes, therefore, greatly intrigued me.

 Some parents… believe that temper tantrums are acceptable. They believe that it is necessary and good for a child to vent his frustrations, release tension, and express himself in such a manner. They go so far as to believe it is the child’s right to do so. I vigorously disagree.

Mary: mother and leader

Today I’m blogging over at Christinianity Today’s Gifted for Leadership about blogging.  (A little circular, I know.)  I’ve been thinking a lot about Mary this year: about her motherhood “heart pondering” in Lk 2:1;  about the effects her pregnancy with Jesus may have had on her body; about how she may have felt about the circumstances surrounding Jesus’ birth.  Now I’m wondering if Mary, if she were around today, would blog. (The post is called “What Would Mary Blog?”)

I’m wondering this because I look around and see that many of today’s influential women blog; among these women, many are mothers.  Their words have encouraged and inspired thousands of other moms, including me.  Some of these women I even view as virtual mentors, “e-mentors” if you will (like Andrea of Flourishing Mother, Mary of Owl Haven, and Renee of Steppin’ Heavenward, to name a  few). 

But other influential, godly women I’ve loved have stopped blogging [Amy of Clothesline Alley,  Terry of Breathing Grace, Jess of Making Home, temporarily].  Why?  Mainly because the process and platform of blogging can be complicated in many ways.  It can be, among other things, self-focused, controversy-stirring, insecurity-causing, time-sucking.  In short, it can be messy.  And God called these women away.  The blogosphere, as many aspects of today’s techonology, is a source of blessing but also a place to be carefully and prayerfully navigated.  This is something I’ve realized and sought to pray into since the earliest days of heartpondering.

Mary, a fellow mother, was one of the most profoundly influential women leaders the world has ever known – if not the most influential.  And yet, as far as I can tell, she never sought a platform.  She never sought the limelight; she never went after a soapbox.  She led quietly and humbly.  Can we blog in the same godly and servant-oriented way that Mary led?  Can I?

That’s my challenge with each post I pen… and by God’s grace,  I hope to, for as long as He may wish it.

My little drummer boy

When I was a kid I remember “The Little Drummer Boy” being one of my favorite Christmas carols – if not the favorite.  I loved the drumming, I loved that it was about a fellow little kid…  What’s not to love?  So this Christmas I enjoy my own children’s enthusiasm for the song.  It’s a keeper.

Yesterday, though, during a 20-minute walk up the neighborhood bike path, I was listening to Faith Hill’s rendition of the carol on my iPod and found myself in the middle of a transcendent moment.  There I was, speed-walking along with cars zipping up the highway on the far side of the fence, and the tears were just streaming down my face.

Suddenly I saw my own four-year old’s face as that of the little drumer boy.  Here’s this young kid being invited to participate in the event of a lifetime – visiting the new baby Jesus.  Does he want to come?  Of course he does!  And I see the can’t-sit-still enthusiasm in my own son when he finds out we’re about to do something fun.  Can we go right now, this second?  Where are my shoes? A kid’s capacity for anticipation and eager joy are matchless.

Taking the show on the road

Last month during my husband’s four-week absence, I packed up my three kids and flew from Los Angeles to Boston for a two-week trip to visit family.  The kids are 3 months, 25 months, and 4 years old… and I got more than my fair share of “are you crazy?” looks from fellow passengers as I herded my flock of children, backpacks, stroller, food bags, sippy cups down the runway.  I was nervous, of course, and solicited prayer from the willing.  Happily, it went well.  The two  6-hour flights were fine – one excellent, one decent (the lowlight being when my eldest puked his guts out as the plane reached the gate, with throngs of people trying to exit);  the trip itself was lovely.  I’d definitely do it again.

“How on earth did you do it alone with the three kids?” people have been asking me since.  I’m certainly not exceptional; I know a number of other moms who have traveled alone with three.  But still, the questions has gotten me thinking.  How did I do it? Part of it was straight-up motivation: I wanted to spend a couple weeks with family back east more than stay home without my husband for a month.  Part of it was organization: having everything I needed (and nothing extra since I did all the carrying) on the plane.  Part of it was experience: I’ve flown solo with kids numerous times before, though only with two.  But the biggest part of it?  Having children who obey me.

Lacking homeward diligence: the background

As described in recent posts, I’ve lately realized a problematic lack of homeward diligence which I’ve been working to rectify.  Diligent at-home moms abound (like Lindsay of Passionate Homemaking or my friend Courtney who helped launch my diligence regimen and now blogs at Whole Diligence ), as do people who are naturally tidy and domestically attentive.  [If you're one of these, feel free to stop reading now.]  It feels to me, though that I’m in decent company among at-home moms who feel they’re floundering in their domestic efforts and can’t put their finger on why.  One fellow-mom friend said, “I feel like I’m always trying to get organized;” another said, “I lack focus;” a third said, “I understand there’s a better way; I’m just not doing it.”  There’s a shared sense of flailing, of now knowing quite how to get a handle on things in our households. I don’t know if these women struggle with diligence as I do; I’m just noting that their words resonated greatly with how I felt. 

It all made me wonder: is there more to a lack of homeward diligence?  Cultural factors, corporate mindset? So I reflected on the circumstances that contributed to my own lack of homeward diligence and came up with these (not an exhaustive list, just my own top 6):

Diligence: the big “E” on the eye chart

Since I put myself on a “diligence” regimen a few months ago, I’ve been met with immediate and radical results.  Transformational, even.  The results have been so profound, in fact, that I’ve found it slightly annoying along the lines of – why on earth didn’t I do this before?  Turns out that for me, diligence is the big “E” on the eye chart at the doctor’s office – so huge and obvious, right there at the top, and I’ve been missing it all along. (Credit to my favorite Mark Driscoll, who has used that analogy more than once, and which I love.)

You see, it’s not that I hadn’t been making efforts to improve my under-functional household. I’d been doing so all year: I sat through a presentation on home organization; after that I put a mini-file system in my kitchen.  After hearing about the Fly Lady, I tried her keep-your-kitchen-sink-clean idea.  I heard a talk on crockpot cooking and started using mine on occasion in hopes of  improving the dinner-time-rush scenario.  I’ve been meal planning for nearly a year now.  But none of this stuff made a difference, big picture.

Thankfulness

 ”Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; 
     let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.

 Let us come before him with thanksgiving 
     and extol him with music and song.

 For the LORD is the great God, 
     the great King above all gods.

 In his hand are the depths of the earth, 
     and the mountain peaks belong to him.

 The sea is his, for he made it, 
     and his hands formed the dry land.

 Come, let us bow down in worship, 
     let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;

 for he is our God 
     and we are the people of his pasture, 
     the flock under his care.” (Psalm 95:1-7)

Do hard things: raise expectations

Back in April I mentioned my interest in reading a book that’s received a far amount of buzz this year called Do Hard Things, written to a teen audience by twin teenage Christian boys.  Last week while visiting family in the northeast, I discovered that my 13-year old nephew had a copy so I perused it.  I found it inspiring both in its content and in the family behind the book’s authors, a large Christian family that’s clearly intentional and God-focused in its parenting.  (The twins’ older brother is the author of I Kissed Dating Goodbye, another thought-provoking and influential book, so clearly this family is raising leaders in the next generation).

The two big takeaways for me that I’ve been pondering since reading it are both related to expectations, and they’re these:

What? You want MORE kids?

I’m one of three kids and my husband is one of two.  When we got married ten years ago at the ages of 23 and 25, we both knew we eventually wanted to have at least three kids.  Beyond that we didn’t give it too much thought.  We know several people who forego all birth control so God may give them as many children as he chooses, though I didn’t learn of the quiverfull movement till I’d been married for years (and am not a participant).  That children are blessings from the Lord to be gladly received – and that our practical response to this truth matters – is important and requires more reflection, I think, than many evangelical Protestants are willing to give it. 

Equally important, though, is a topic about childbearing I hear discussed even less frequently.  I don’t think I encountered it myself till last year.  It’s this: bearing children and raising them to love God is an act through which we collaborate with God in ruling and “subduing” the earth (Gen 1:28).  We Christian parents get to raise the next generation of Christ-following kids, who will work alongside us to help His kingdom come.  This doesn’t necessarily mean that we should all have as many children as we can, but it does mean that the more children we have - the more opportunities we get to participate in what God’s doing on the earth, if we raise them to love and serve Him.