Seedless

How about this for a random thought? The other day I was making plum jam. It takes a little bit of effort because you have to pit the plums to get them ready for the rest of the process. The whole thing can be a bit mindless, so I found myself thinking about seeds. Then watermelons. Then seedless watermelons. Where did seedless watermelons come from anyway? Why aren't other fruits seedless? Who thought to do that? Why did they do that? Are you following so far?

Why would they make watermelons seedless? Because seeds are inconvenient.

I snorted a little to myself with the realization. If ever there was a picture of a selfish generation it is the seedless watermelon. Isn't that what you think every time you eat a modern watermelon?

There is so much right going on in our generation (I mean the people breathing air on the planet right now), I will never be a doom sayer or a "what happened to the good ol' days" person. These are great days to be alive.

But try to have children and see what kind of conversations you get into. Or, for example, try to take your small tribe of 6 to an ice cream parlour and watch a 70 year old couple take one look at you and your little army and rush to cut in line so they don't have to waste their time while each child decides if they want bubble-gum or strawberrry. This is a true story from my summer and it isn't an isolated one.

Some people struggle when children enter the scene. I totally understand.

They are loud.
They are demanding.
They can be aggressive.
They are so, so messy.
They are indecisive.
They don't let you sleep when you want to.
They don't let you sit down when you want to.
They kind of require that you are the grown up, and you don't really get to be the spoiled one. Kind of, ever.

They point out, seemingly at every turn, how much their presence requires me to "get over myself" and do what is right for them.

It almost seems easier to just not.

Why would we put ourselves through this? Day after day. I am a feeding, cleaning, negotiation machine. I am tired and overwhelmed often.

What is the point?

The point is that in every way, I am a better person because I am a parent.

My desire for comfort and prominence are a never ending machine that will never be satisfied.

I want new furniture.
I want a new kitchen.
I want to sleep through the night and take naps on a fairly regular basis.
I want to be successful.
I want to be noticed for my giftings and talents.
I want quiet.
I want to go to a restaurant without apologizing for the mess on the floor.
I want my home to stay clean.
I want to read a book, all day long.

I could go on, but I think you see. I, I, I. Me, Me, Me.

I don't have to work to be like this. I just am. I have to work to NOT be like this. The kids just help me see it ALL DAY LONG. EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE.

I have to say that it isn't just having children though. If you are going to care about others at all, ever and learn to put others needs above your own, I promise you will have an uphill battle.

The truth is, we could be seedless. We could let our lives continue to be filled with very little trouble or inconvenience. We could pad our life in such a way that nothing disturbs our space or time with its loud announcement that we are not actually the epicentre of the universe. Or we could press into the inconvenience. We could understand that fighting for our own rights really just makes us fussy, angry people in the end anyway.

Maybe this is why Jesus said in Luke 17:33

"Whoever seeks to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it."

I feel the press in me all the time. Will I seek to save my life - or the way of life that I think will bring me the most joy? Or will I allow myself to give my life, my time, my gifts, my value, to others and trust that my needs will be met as I meet the needs of others? 


I value life. I especially value four particular miracles that can, at times, cause me a great amount of discomfort. But I will not be seedless just for the sake of a few more naps every month. 

I pray that we will all take a few minutes to look at the "inconveniences" in our life and see if they are put there to make us into the person we actually want to be. 

Aging in the New Year

It is the New Year, time for new beginnings and a time to reflect a little about the passing of time. I got a little head start because I started a new skincare regimen that is full of promises to reverse the signs of aging, diminish fine lines and wrinkles, etc. I guess because I am paying a little more attention to my skin I am actually looking in the mirror more these days. I have looked in the mirror every day for years when I get ready but lately I have been looking and assessing the toll these past few years have taken on me. It is hard to say if I look ragged because I have had four kids in 2.5 years, or if I look ragged because that just happens as you get older.

I notice that I have some furrow marks over my eyebrows and little rivits at the top of my nose that I don't remember seeing before. I am pretty sure my eyes have sunken in a little bit from sleep deprivation. The crows feet by my eyes I don't mind so much, I see them as trophies for all of the good laughing spells. That goes for the little lines over my lips, I am pretty sure they are there because I whistle. Whistling is happy and cute, if I get wrinkles because of the habit, so be it. 

What I am not ok with is the strange turkey like neck that is developing under my chin. I am starting to notice that my neck takes a few seconds longer to turn when my face does because there is an extra inch or two of skin beginning to swallow my chin and working hard to make my neck and face one happy couple. Where did my jawline go? 

I look at my dad, my mom, pictures of other family members and they all have this little neck issue. My dad actually told one of my kids that he was slowly turning into a turkey when they asked him what happened to his neck. Thanks for that dad, the kids are scarred for life. Little do they know that one day they will turn into a turkey too. 

Noooooo! I quietly yell at the mirror when I see it happening to me. I am pretty sure that not even fancy Retinoid filled lotion is going to slow my disintegration into a poultry necked mother of four. Dumb genes.  

I am a 44 year old woman. I am a 44 year old woman with four children under 5. If you know me, you know that I am grateful everyday for these little souls. I don't care how old I am, I am just grateful to have them. But in my own little insecure wanderings I hope that my kids are proud of me even as they get older. I never want them to think they have an old mom.

All of this has me thinking about age, aging and what kind of person I want to be as I grow older. The truth is, there is very little that I can actually do to slow or stop the effects of time as it marches over my complexion. Lotions and potions help, proper eating and exercise...sure...but they can't stop it all together.

I study people all the time so I have started a list of things that I think make a soul pretty. I suppose that it could also be a list of things that age a soul or make it less pretty so that will weave in I am sure. These points are compiled based on what I see in those souls that I see aging gracefully. They are the ones I want to be like. 

1. They are grateful - Nothing ages a person like complaining, and IT IS SO EASY TO DO! The older I get, the more things that I notice that are wrong. It is easy to get fussy and want things just so. I love grateful people. They don't worry when things go wrong, they are just happy to be there. They say thank you

often, and fight that downward spiral into negativity and entitlement.

2. They live in a state of wonder - they are determined to learn, from everything from everyone. They never stop being amazed at the world we live in. They never get familiar with the people that they go through life with. They never take on a know it all attitude. Every person they encounter has something new to offer and to teach. These people are life-long learners and life is their classroom. It almost feels like they have front row seats to their own existence and they are ready to jump to their feet for a round of applause at any moment. 

3. They are cheerleaders for those around them - My husband, Shawn rode in a big bike race last fall. The race started in downtown Vancouver and ended at the top of Whistler, BC. He rode his bike for 7 hours straight up the side of a mountain. I was beside myself with excitement for him. I felt so much joy and pride when he crossed the finish line. Before that happened though, I stood as hundreds of other riders went by. I stood with family members that were waiting for their dads, sons, daughters and wives to cross the  line. For awhile I found a shady spot to watch and wait. Then I noticed an older couple with signs that read "Go Steve" and "Go Todd". This couple cheered for at least an hour for EVERY SINGLE RIDER that went past them. They yelled things like "YOU DID IT!" "YOU ARE AMAZING!" "WAY TO DO IT!"...on and on these two went. Cheering as though every rider was their own flesh and blood. That is when I saw it...these riders, exhausted, thirsty, hungry and ready to be finished heard these two strangers telling them that they could do it, and all of a sudden they would smile and strength would come back into their legs and they would kick it one more time before they crossed the finish line. I was so moved by the whole thing that I found myself jumping and clapping for strangers too "YOU ARE ALMOST THERE!" "ONE MORE CORNER AND YOU DID IT!" and these strangers would look at me, half smile and kick it one more time, up and out of sight across the finish line. By the time Shawn and his team got to me, I was hoarse but so happy. I felt like I was a vital part of the race.  I think it is easy as we get older to get full of opinions and freely give unsolicited (sometimes unwelcome) advice. I am determined to cheer for others and encourage them as they make their decisions. Everyone can give advice, but how many people actually take time to encourage others and give them that extra strength they need to get around an issue? Encouraging people are beautiful souls. I want to be more like that. 

4. They choose joy - I will never forget the day I was talking to a woman who was in her eighties and I was telling her how much I appreciate her joy. She smiled sweetly and said "It's a choice". We all have hard things that come our way. We all have reasons to be intense and grumpy, but if we look we can always find reasons to be happy too. It's a choice, always has been, always will be. 

5. They notice people - I will never forget the feeling of being a young adult and the overwhelming realization that I couldn't live at home forever and get free meals at my parents house. I was in a mentoring program during that time and I felt so overwhelmed by my own immaturity, disorganization and overall lack of understanding of how the world around me worked. In the middle of this, one of the pastors in the church walked up to me one day and said "Keri, you are a thoroughbred - meant to run". I think I was having a particularly hard day that day and I remember hearing 1,000 arguments in my head against his kind words and yet those words sunk to the deepest place of my heart and began to transform me. He, along with my parents and many others, believed in me before I believed in myself. They were patient with me, they spoke words of life over me and encouraged me when I felt like giving up.  They taught me that every person is worth noticing whether we see their value immediately or not. There are so many surprises out there if we will take the time to see them.

I fear this is starting to turn into an epistle, so I will end. I will continue to work on my enlarged pores and other tell tale signs that I am not in my twenties anymore. My hope is that the work I am doing to keep my soul rich will swallow the aging process and inside beauty will do its work.  Here's to you 2015 - I will turn 45 under your watch, if I do this right I will get younger and younger with every passing month. I welcome you and all that you bring.  Let's do this. 

Thank You

I am going to post two blogs today, this one will be very short.  I want to take a minute and say thank you to those of you who read my ramblings. Blogging is a strange experience. I sit in my dining room for a few minutes at a time until something takes shape. I read and re-read, then hit share. I never know who reads it, who will share it, who will comment or who will be impacted by these little rabbit trails I send out to the internet. I am always blessed and encouraged when someone finds me to tell me that they could relate to something I wrote, or that they appreciate my honesty. 

Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually does read it other than my family. Then someone will see me at church, at the grocery store or send me a private message to let me know that what I am going through hit a nerve with their own personal experience. 

It means a lot to me that we can do life together even if we don't see each other on a regular basis. I hope we can do more of it in the future. 

I pray that this year is full of "more than you could hope for or dream of" kind of blessings, new and exciting adventures, and for the restoring of hopes and dreams that have been stolen. 

Thanks for sharing the journey with me. 

Keri

All is calm

We did it. Christmas 2014 is in the bag. The boys are napping, the girls are watching a Christmas movie and I am sitting at the dining room table with my cold coffee. Cold coffee is the name of the game for this mama, I don't even mind it any more. 

I am thinking about how important rest is. Last week had so many details, last minute meetings and plans to be executed. By Friday, I admit, I was a frazzled mess. We had church concerts with costumes, school concerts with costumes, class parties, work parties and family coming for the holidays. Everything was fun, I enjoyed the events, but all of the preparation took its toll. I am not a naturally organized person but I have learned to be organized because I hate crisis. Most of the time I can spin quite a few plates without dropping any, but when I get stressed the first thing to go is my ability to remember details. 

The stand out moment for me was on Wednesday. Both of our girls were sick at home with fevers. I was pleased with myself because I remembered to bring presents for the teachers (as a new school mom I didn't get to it last year, I admit it never really crossed my mind). But this year I remembered - yay me! So there I stood, outside the pre-school door, ready to tell the teachers that Alina was sick but "look! I make cookies for you!"

I was a little early, so as I was waiting I noticed the other moms coming to drop off their children with their own presents for the teachers. I also noticed that they had platters of fruit and cookies for the other kids....my mind was spinning because I started to realize that while I had remembered to bring presents I had forgotten one other little detail...it was the Christmas party for the class and I was supposed to bring juice boxes. 

While I was standing there quietly berating myself for signing up then walking away from that clipboard and immediately forgetting, another mom walked up with what could only be described as a cucumber Christmas tree. It was a Pinterest wonderland on a plate. Sliced cucumbers piled perfectly into a triangle, replete with a tomato garland. It just screamed "I took time with this, I planned, perused Pinterest, went to the store, got up early or stayed up late to make this very special little something for my kid and his friends." (Let me pause here to say that if you are a "cucumber mom" - I admire you, please keep it up. I love how you show your love for your kids. We all have our strengths, cucumber trees and crafting in general is not mine)

Forgetting juice boxes isn't that big of a deal of course. The teachers were sweet, they let me off of the hook and made me feel like they understood. But I think the whole moment served as a cruel metaphor in the mom-shame department. It was a moment of inadequacy and it hit at the precise moment when my heart was ready for a good scolding from the "here is everything that is wrong with you" coach in my mind. 

There were a few more moments over the next couple of days... add a couple of frustrating interactions with people, lack of sleep due to sick children and a meeting that went a little sideways and by Friday I was a mess. I was so tired inside and out. The soul damaging condemnation of all of the ways I was not enough during this season had taken its toll. 

I was frustrated and snapping at my family, everything felt ultimate and magnified. I can always tell when I am in a bad state like that when I see my husband and he has stopped, wide eyed and staring at me with a puzzled expression "What happened? Who is this crazy lady tearing around my house? What do I need to do to find my happy wife and mother to our children?" 

He gently said while I was running around the house, remaking beds and getting dinner ready..."You know, they are not coming to see the house they are coming to see us"

I know. I know. I know. 

I hate it when I get like that. I know I am not serving anyone. I know that I am setting a pretty crazy tone. But it is like a bad roller coaster and I can't seem to get off. It just has to play out. Beds still have to be made, mouths need food in them, presents need to be wrapped, events need planning and attending. 

Then somehow, it all works out. 

We feed everyone, we stay up until the wee hours of the morning to wrap presents and build the beautiful toys that we have been scheming about since the summer. Christmas music plays, the children sing their cute songs from school and the boys sing jingle bells in their jumbled and adorable two year old way. 

The kids get tucked into their beds, and we sing our songs. 

"What child is this who laid to rest on Mary's lap is sleeping"

"The first Noel the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields where they lay"

"Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright"

There in the quietness of our bedtime routine, Christmas happens.

It happens as I look in their eyes as they sing about the Christ child coming to save us from our sins. 

It happens when Alina sings "Silent night, Holy night, God is calm, God is bright" 

It happens when I read them story of the manger, the sheep, the mess, the kings and the star. 

It happens when I tell them that Jesus loved us so much that He gave us four miracles and then they list them in order...

Miracle #1 - Emma

Miracle #2 - Alina - our Christmas baby

Miracle #3 - Isaac

Miracle #4 - Samuel 

They know the story. Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much and they wanted children to share their lives with them, but they couldn't have children until Jesus did a miracle and gave them the answer to their prayers with four beautiful, loud, funny, captivating children. 

Christmas happens when I watch their daddy stay up until 2 AM finishing their dollhouse and train table just to make sure it is all just right when they wake up in the morning. 

It happened when I stood in the girls play room yesterday with grateful tears running down my face because I realized that for the first time in my selfish life I actually didn't care about gifts or anything material because I have a richer life than I could have possibly dreamed of. I was happy, grateful and reformed from my stressed out self. 

It is happening right now, as I sit here drinking my cold coffee in a quiet house with a content family. 

I am at rest. The events of last week are a blur and I really don't care anymore about the deadlines or the details. 

Next year will probably be the same. I can't imagine things slowing down before the holidays. There will still be concerts, company, big dinners and stress. I will need to pull back, remember that no one actually cares whether I am good at cucumber trees or not. What they will care about is whether they have a happy wife/mom/boss/friend/sister/daughter or not. 

Just to drive this point home, my husband prophetically ordered this sign for me in October: 

So, this is Christmas. A time to stop, a time to reflect, a time to be grateful and slow down. A time to put down the phone, set the Ipad aside and listen. Listen when the kids giggle at each other and play with their new things for a whole fifteen minutes before war is declared. 

It is a time to remember how much I love my family. I will not complain about being busy. I feel like being busy raising a family is a privilege that I almost didn't get, so I certainly cant complain about the noise or the mess. What I really want to work on is sitting down in the middle of the mess and the noise and not trying to fix it. Just relish it, delight in it, soak it in. 

These are my own Christmas confessions. I hope that you had an easier ride through the holidays, but if you didn't, you are in good company. Let's back up, take it all in, gather a big breath and be grateful for these beautiful days. 

I pray that you would be filled with a thrill of hope, that your weary world would rejoice. Not just now, but all year. 

If this season has been a tough time for you, I pray that you would find hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, a tail wind that pushes you instead of a head wind that brings delay and frustration. I pray for joy to be your strength and peace your portion. 

Deep breath everyone. 2015 is waiting for us. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. 

These Moments Are All For Me

Christmastime is here. The sun is out, the house is decorated and we have actually managed to keep decorations on the BOTTOM of the tree this year for the first time in awhile. Samuel is sitting next to me playing with his "treasure box", a music box with a Christmas scene on the top. Isaac is running circles around the house at full speed, when he passes me he says either "MOMMY! Me running!" or "Yeehaw!". Alina is at pre-school and Emma is out running errands with Shawn. This is a quiet moment in my world, so I am going to take advantage of it by writing for as long as I can before one of these little guys needs me to wind something, fix something or get something for them to eat or drink.

Boys are so different than girls. Samuel is working so hard to figure out how this music box works, so he will spin and spin, stop the wheel, wind it and start again. He even puts his chin in it to feel it spinning (good thing he doesn't have whiskers yet), and now he managed to get the winding key out of it - pause. ...and back again.

Alina turned 4 yesterday. We had our Christmas play at the church. Emma was an angel (what else?), Alina was a parrot, Isaac was a homemade sheep (courtesy of his dad's newfound glue gun skills), Samuel was the cutest little cow you have ever seen.

I kid you not, Samuel just came out of the play room wrapped in dental floss and proudly exclaiming "TA -DAA". He has unloaded an entire container of dental floss and turned it into a fashion statement. I had to follow him because he went in the bathroom and just as I suspected, was getting ready to unload another container for his floss suit. Well now, this is handy, they are flossing their teeth now as they pull each other around like puppies.

Why so calm you say? Because they are entertained entirely for at least five minutes and I promise to listen closely to make sure it doesn't make itself into a noose. Strangulation by dental floss, try explaining that to the doctor.  This is not unusual, this is my life.

I try to explain the funny things the kids do when I am with adults, but it is so hard to capture. Their faces, a perfect compilation of every family member, with wrinkles in their foreheads and funny little facial expressions. Like Isaac when he tilts his head down, furrows his brow and runs sideways through the house like a superhero. It isn't funny in the telling, but so funny when it is happening.

Or how do I sufficiently explain what Emma does at bedtime? The girls and I sing before they go to bed, and each of them get to pick the songs on alternating nights. Emma always chooses "Somewhere over the Rainbow" - she has great taste in music. So now she knows it well enough to sing along and the other night I had her sing it to me. I admit, I cried a little. Then we told her daddy to come in and listen and he cried a little too.

When they grow it is always met with a little bit of sadness and nostalgia for me. I miss their funny little phrases that get corrected by daily conversations. Alina used to say "Me need oars help", and then one day she just didn't say that anymore I don't even know when she stopped.

Isaac will push through a crowd by saying "Cuse me, coming phrew" - and Samuel, when asked why he is doing something he will say "mmmm...cuz um cuz um cuz". He used to say "What dat do" when he was asking what something was, and now he says it properly. Too bad.

Then they break into something new and I want to do cartwheels. Emma can recite 10 scripture verses with their location in the Bible from memory, and she is learning to read and write. I love the advancing, but I miss my babies.

I love the bits of independence we are all gaining. The boys don't need us to lift them out of their cribs anymore and that is very nice in the moment, but I miss those automatic snuggles that come when they are barely awake in the morning.

Pictures and video are great for helping me remember, but I can't smell their sweet skin or nuzzle their chubby little necks. For now, what I have are these moments when they do such funny things that I can't even put it into words. Those moments. Those moments are all for me.

The other things that are all for me are the piles of dental floss that has been accumulating all over the house while I wrote this, the hand prints on the front window that announces to anyone going by that this is a crazy house with lots of kids, and the dishes in the sink that we didn't have the energy to do last night. So deep breath, my nostalgia time is up.

Merry Christmas everyone. I pray that you have laughter until your sides hurt and at least one moment when everything is so beautiful that it takes your breath away.

kindergarten eve

If you are on social media you have seen many posts of happy kids in new clothes and fresh faces gathering together for a little picture on the porch before they march off to the hallowed halls of education.

I don't get tired of it. I love the pride that beams through moms and dads as they mark the passing of another year.

I would however,  love to see a picture of the mom and dad. I wonder if they look like me. Excited, a little anxious, over protective, curious, emotional....

So many memories flood over us. Where did the time go? Heart pangs. I gather my courage and wave goodbye, trying not to think of what some mother told me, "you wave good bye at kindergarten, you blink and they are graduating."

I am super duper not ready to hear that.

It is definitely time for Emma to be in school. I think she is bored with all of us. She is anxious to learn, make new friends, gain her own independence. But then, that little stumble of insecurity, a little too much distance and she is my baby all over again.

Today was a bit of slow start, fun games, get to know you kind of stuff. I was there, all of the parents were there.  When we were talking about it last night she leaned into me with her sweet little pyjamas, her freshly washed hair and said "but you will be with me right? in case I need you?"

"Yup, I will be right there in case you need me" for now, my darling, for now.

But you will grow and you will find your feet and I will simultaneously rejoice and weep. I want you to be fierce little girl. I want you to know that you can conquer the world. You have it all. I want you to take risks, be brave, think new thoughts and change the world. Be a great friend, and notice everyone. Especially the ones on their own, searching for a friend.

I want to see your pictures moms and dads. Do you look like me? Smiling with tears running down your face? Of course I am happy for my own independence, I get a little bit of "my life", "my time" back. There is a lot to love about that, but I will never have a one, two, three, four year old Emma again. That book is closed.

My mom died 9 years ago. My life changed so dramatically in that season. I was always a "seize the day" kind of a girl but after that, I became a "take today by the throat and extract the essence out of it until the sun goes down" kind of a girl.

When people say "where did the time go?" I totally understand and agree that it passed quickly, but I can tell you exactly where the time went. It went into parks and slides and sunny days spent outside in the backyard splashing in various sizes of kiddie pools. It went into play dates with friends while we held each others babies and marvelled at their early signs of genius. The time was swallowed up with sleepless nights, doctors appointments, date days with mommy or daddy. Or the days were spent snuggling on the couch on a rainy day watching more than the recommended amount of Backyardigans, or BusyTown Mysteries.

 We have played and crafted, visited every park in our fair city and all of the surrounding areas and we have loved every minute of it (except when we didn't, but let's not focus on that)

So, while I am swallowed in nostalgia, I am not buried in regret. These have been beautiful days, but there are beautiful days yet to come and I turn my face toward them with all of the courage I can muster.

My two favourite jobs on this planet are being the wife of Shawn Harvey, and being the mom to Emma, Alina, Isaac, and Samuel Harvey. I will not spend a moment worrying that I didn't get enough out of the days behind, but I will sit and scroll through my photos and videos from the past five years with grateful tears streaming down my face.

I welcome you kindergarten and all that you represent. Bring it on.

To age with grace

I see it happening, and sometimes I feel powerless to stop it. I remember watching older people when I was young, I remember thinking "why do they seem sad, angry, irritated?". I was unbridled in my  optimism when I was young.  I am still an optimist.  I still ruffle when someone says "I am not an optimist, I am a realist".  This has always sounded like permission to be negative. But I get it, I do.

I want to say at the beginning that this post may seem a little sad, but I am not sad just contemplative.

Right now, I am in a great season. Everything I have ever asked for, I have been given. I have a great, intentional, relationship with my husband. I have four beautiful children, a gift beyond words after many years of waiting. We have a home big enough to accommodate all of us, and food on our table. I have nothing, really nothing to complain about.

And yet, I see sometimes that my sails don't fill as full as they used to. I find myself fighting to keep my thoughts in the positive column. I have wondered lately just how to get this ship of a heart into a safe harbour for healing. It is hard in a way to even admit that I need repair. Externally, I certainly have nothing to complain about. It is my heart that betrays me and keeps me spinning inside.

Life hits hard sometimes doesn't it? Grief that comes from death, loss of those you couldn't imagine living without. Grief of lost relationships you thought would last a lifetime. Betrayal from those who swore their loyalty and trust. Disappointment from unmet expectations. Rejection, actual or perceived. Misunderstanding from well meaning people who just bump up against the sensitive parts of our soul.

It is so easy to stay in survival mode, get to the next season, press through and hold it all together. I think this is the part I am good at. I can weather storms with determination and courage. I have done it, I will do it again. It is the aftermath, when by all appearances everything is better, my heart says "Rest now. Listen to me. Protect me". This is the part I am not as good at. My instinct is to power through, dismiss and talk myself out of any quietness. I can even find good reasons, Biblical reasons to ignore myself, take care of others and press through.

Here is the rub: The issues I stuff down deep spill out at their own discretion. I get irritated at inconvenience (and trust me, with four little people running around me all day my stuffed issues find lots of opportunities to find the light of day). I snap and fume over silly things. Then I feel guilty because I hate the tone I am setting in my house. I berate myself for being negative when really, why should I? My life is great.

But unresolved.

So, I see it. I see so clearly how it happens. We get older, we stuff more. We leave more and more complicated issues unresolved and those issues fly out on the freeway to unsuspecting strangers who cut us off. It spills out when we deliberately cut other people off in line ups because we cannot control our children, but we can make sure this stranger knows that they WILL treat me the way I feel I should be treated. Our world gets smaller and smaller. Our friend group gets smaller if there is one at all. It is risky to have people in our lives. They could hurt us, they could disappoint us. But we are so made for relationships that we can't help ourselves, we keep reaching, calling and opening up because we truly need each other.

When I was younger and my whole life was spreading out in front of me, I had so many ambitions. Ambition is not bad of course. I actually encourage it. It is important, vital I think, to reach for something bigger than any person could ever accomplish. Now, I think I would also tell my young, ambitious self if I would listen, that dreams are so important, goals are so important, destiny and reaching for it is one of the best things in life. I would also tell myself that life itself will try to rob you of every one of those dreams and work overtime to make sure that when you get there you won't enjoy them because your heart will be worn out. Life will try to take life.

But we must not let it. We must not. We need to keep our hearts resolved and clear. We must continue to risk and to reach. We need to give of ourselves and expect nothing in return. We need to reconcile when we can, forgive always, wage war until we find true joy again. Focus on what matters most, let go of the rest and most importantly, we must fight to keep our world from shrinking.

My husband and I are directors for a mentoring program at our church. One of the questions we ask the students at the beginning of their year is "what do you look like free?" I would ask myself a similar question - "What do you look like the day you will die?" This is what I want to be:

I want to be large hearted. I want to be generous, kind, thoughtful. I want people to know that when they are with me that they are truly cared about and loved. I want to be surrounded by those whom I love the most, knowing that we have fought the onslaught of sadness and negativity and stabbed our faith right through the heart of it. I want to raise giants, my own children and anyone whom I have the privilege of leading. I want them to know how to run their race like those who know that there is a prize for those who overcome. I want my house to be filled with laughter, not just the kids, but MINE. I want to be known for walking in peace. Most of all I want my faith in Jesus to truly represent itself in my life in a way that He would be pleased with me.

I am grateful for summers, for a time to rest. I find that these times can be a little challenging as well.  Kind of like a big garage full of stuff that needs to be organized and de-cluttered. My heart and soul need to declutter from the past nine months (or more). I am believing that I will be stronger and more hopeful in September for the time I am spending purging this stuff now.

I pray that your heart and your own unresolved issues find the light of day this summer and that you will be able to find time to tie up loose ends, find peace and joy for the days to come.