Letter to my 16-year-old self

Emily at Chatting at the Sky released a new book this week titled Graceful. It’s a book for teenage girls (right up my alley!), and in honor of the new book she thought it might be neat for bloggers to write letters to their 16-year-old selves.

(Neat? Really? Who even says that any more?)

Anyway, it took a while to conjure up images of way back then, but once I got into it, this was really fun. Hope you enjoy this blast into my past!

Dear Me,

It’s hard to even remember you back then. Tall (you reached your full 5’ 9” height in 8^th grade), lanky (check out those legs!), and feeling more insecure than pretty much anybody else around you.

These are some things I wish you had known back then. But then again, isn’t hindsight always 20/20?

1. Life isn't always easy, is it? Sorrow and loneliness seem to be your closest companions, but they don’t have to be. Stop relying on yourself so much and let others in. Stop fighting with your sisters and make friends with them instead. Life would be a whole lot easier with a couple of advocates on your side.

2. You feel like a fish out of water in high school. You wish you had more friends, but making friends is hard. Don’t worry. College is coming, and you’ll make the best friends of your life there.

3. You so want a boy to like you. Any boy. Don’t waste so much time and emotional energy on that—it really isn’t worth it. Besides, you won’t marry a boy from high school (thank goodness!). You’ll wait for the right one, and you won’t even recognize him when he’s right under your nose. (You’re kinda dumb about boys. Sorry.)

4. You really want to make people happy. This is a good thing and a bad thing. You’re going to have to try to figure out when it’s worth it and when it’s not.

5. Watch your parents carefully. They’ve been through a lot, and still, they really know how to love.

6. You’re really skinny—enjoy it while you can, but don’t make that your identity. It won’t last.

7. Keep reading. Keep dreaming. And talk to Grandpa Earl about his travels because some day soon you will go to England, and it will change your life forever.

 8. That one time? After a football game with your friends? Do. Not. Go. So not worth it.

9. Oh, and the hair? Just don’t ever go there again either.

10. You really love Jesus, but you feel like there’s something you should DO to make Him love you back. There isn’t. Not one thing. He already loves you more than you know. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a long time before you get that. I wish you could get that now and rest in it forever.

Despite all of this fairly harsh criticism of you, I have to say that you’ve turned out pretty well. You have learned a few things along the way, you’ve become friends with your sisters, and best of all, you’ve let God take over.

You're in for a lot of great adventures--you'll go places, meet people, and do things that you can't possibly dream about right now. 

You’ve had a good life, dear Me. A really, really blessed life.

Letters to My Daughters - Be a Giver

Dear Daughters,

I want to talk to you today about giving.

Not your money . . . yourself.

I had an interesting conversation with a college girl the other day, and she told me that since she has begun volunteering with a campus organization this year she has a new appreciation for those who serve. She's learning that serving is hard work! See, she’s having trouble getting people to help her with the events she’s planning. And when she plans an event, people inevitably complain.

My friend just can’t figure out why people her age (your age!) don’t want to get involved.

(Let me tell you, girls, people can be a royal pain.)

And so can serving. But I want to encourage you to keep doing it, keep serving, because it shapes the person you are becoming and the person you are going to be.

As my friend talked, she said, “I’ve realized that these people who won’t do anything—my generation—are also the people who someday will have to be involved in our communities . . . and in our churches! Who is going to do all the work if nobody wants to get involved?”

Right on, Sister!

I told her that in this world there are givers and there are takers. (Again, I’m not talking about money—I’m talking about our time.) Sadly, it seems like today there are more takers in this society than givers.

So who will get involved? Who will be the givers of tomorrow?

I’ll tell you who—you will. Because you have, I hope, a sense of responsibility to the world around you. And because you understand that there are many people out there who, for some reason or another, just can’t do it, but you can. And you also know that sitting at home watching T.V. is no way to live a rich and fulfilling life.

I can't waste time or energy worrying about all those other people out there who aren’t getting involved in their communities and in their churches. (Those, by the way, are usually the people who complain the loudest when things don’t go quite according to their expectations. Be forewarned.) What I need to focus on is me. What am I doing to make my community and my church a better place?

I was raised with parents who were always involved in some aspect of community and church life. One time I asked my mom why they were always doing so much, and I’ll never forget my mom’s answer. She told me, “If there is a need, and I can fill it, I’ll do it.”

If there is a need . . . and I can fill it . . . I’ll do it.

How much better would our world be if more people had this philosophy of living and giving?

Sure, there are times when we are stretched so thin that we absolutely cannot fill a need. I get that. God understands. We all need healthy boundaries.

But when you see a need, I would hope that, rather than automatically dismissing it as someone else’s problem, you would at least take a moment to consider how and if you can help fill that need.

So far, girls, you are doing great. You’ve all been actively seeking ways to serve others. Keep it up and make it a lifelong habit.

Be a giver.

*****

Linking this post to Richella's Grace at Home party and Amanda's Weekend Bloggy Link Up.

September Update

Sitting . . . on a sunny dock overlooking blue water and perfect sky.

Drinking . . . coffee. Strong and black in the early morning light.

Enjoying . . . warm sand on my toes and the company of life-long friends.

Hearing . . . happy squeals from children on the beach nearby. The clanging of sailboats in the harbor. Waves kissing the shore.

Talking . . . about washing machines the way we used to talk about boys.

Feeling . . . thankful . . . for friendships that have lasted long despite miles and experiences and paths unlikely.

Realizing . . . that life, maturity, and experience really do bring joy.

Wondering . . . why it has taken us 30 years to make this happen.

Feeling Thankful Today

I haven’t written much about this because at first I didn’t think it was my story. It happened while I was in Italy, so I wasn’t really that involved.

But the more I think about it, and the more I talk to people about it, the more I see that it IS part of my story, so I’m going to write about it.

And also, Hurricane Isaac is making me think about storms.

On July 1, our town was hit suddenly by a severe thunderstorm. Those happen here—we’re used to them—but this storm was unusual from what I understand. The suddenness and the severity were intense, catching everyone by surprise. They called it a “land hurricane,” whatever that is.

I won’t go into the details because the details aren’t part of my story (I was halfway around the world, remember?), but you have to know that the storm hit just after noon on a Sunday. My husband and daughter, who drove separate cars, were just coming home from church.

What happened next IS part of my story.

This is my husband’s car.

 The car where he was trapped for 20 minutes until my daughter (who, thankfully, was in the basement of our house) found him.

When I got word in Italy about what happened (via Facebook, I might add!) I kind of shrugged and told someone, “Gee, there was a really bad storm at home. My husband was trapped in his car for 20 minutes under a tree.”

The Italian guy looked at me and said, “You are so calm. How can you be so calm about this? Do you have storms often?”

I explained that the Midwest is known for having thunderstorms and tornadoes. It’s just something we live with.

I hadn’t seen the pictures yet.

 The next day when B posted pictures on Facebook, I realized, fully, what had happened.

My husband, my rock, my friend, the love of my life, could have been killed.

Really.

I have laughed about it since then, now that I can laugh about it, now that he’s here and he’s fine. But when I really sit in silence and think about what could have happened, how I could right now be trying to pick up the pieces of my life after a tragic accident, I realize that I have much to be thankful for.

And that’s why I’m writing today.

I’m thankful that my husband wasn’t hurt worse. Aside from some scrapes and bruises and a few shards of glass in his arm, he was not hurt.

Thank you, Lord.

I’m thankful that my daughter, who was driving a tiny car that day, was not the one to be trapped under the tree because the outcome for her could have been much different.

Thank you, Lord.

I’m thankful, selfishly, that B wasn’t driving my car that day because his car was a company car, and his company handled all the details of towing the car away, paying for a rental, and getting him a new car. Such an amazing blessing that I do NOT take for granted.

Thank you, Lord.

Mostly today, I am thankful for the husband that God has given me and that He has given us even a few more days together. I don’t know what will happen in the future, I certainly know that accidents happen, but I know we have today and for that I am thankful.

Now tell me, what are YOU thankful for today?

Letters to My Daughters - Pressure

Dear Daughters,

It was my senior year of college. I was engaged to your dad, planning a wedding, looking for a job and a place to live, oh, and trying to finish up classes.

About a month or so before graduation I was having a bad day, so I called home. My dad answered the phone, and before I knew it, I was crying.

Blubbering is more like it.

“Dad, I don’t know where we’re going to live—we can’t find an apartment. And a job? I don’t even know what I want to DO with my life. B and I just had a huge fight, AND I HAVE AN EXAM IN AN HOUR AND I HAVEN’T EVEN STUDIED!!”

I still wonder how my dad must have reacted on the other end of the phone. He must have truly wondered if I had lost my mind, sniffling and snuffling and bellowing out my problems in the most unrefined of ways.

Yes, I remember college. I remember some really fun times. I remember the great friends that I made. I remember awesome professors.

I also remember the pressure.

 Girls, all three of you are in different stages, but you will all experience intense pressure at one time or another, even this year. Academic pressure. Financial pressure. Peer pressure.

How will you handle it?

I recently read the most amazing story in II Chronicles 20. King Jehoshaphat of Judah was under intense pressure—three armies from surrounding countries had declared war on him at once. It’s kind of long (you should really go read the whole thing for yourselves), but bear with me—it’s important.

1. He knew where his strength came from.

As soon as he heard that not one, not two, but THREE armies had declared war on him, the Bible says, “Jehoshaphat was terrified by this news and begged the Lord for guidance. He also ordered everyone in Judah to begin fasting.” (v. 3)

Jehoshaphat took the threat seriously, but he also took the Lord seriously, and he responded appropriately. Yes, he was terrified. There’s no doubting that what lay before him was a seemingly insurmountable problem. But rather than sit and cry or run away, he begged the Lord for guidance. And because the threat was especially serious, he fasted and asked everyone around him to fast as well.

When pressure comes, run to the Lord.

2. He prayed.

Jehoshaphat obviously knew the Lord well because his prayer reflects what his heart knew: “O Lord, God of our ancestors, you alone are the God who is in heaven. You are ruler of all the kingdoms of the earth. You are powerful and mighty; no one can stand against you!” (v. 6) 

He must have known himself pretty well too, because his prayer goes on to say, “We are powerless against this mighty army that is about to attack us. We do not know what to do, but we are looking to you for help” (v. 12).

When pressure comes, pour out your heart to God.

3. He trusted.

After Jehoshaphat prayed, he listened to the words of the prophet Jahaziel who told him these important words: “Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s” (v. 15). Jahaziel also told the people of Judah, “But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. . . . Believe in the Lord your God and you will be able to stand firm” (v. 17 & 20).

Really? Just stand firm? With three armies coming after you?

What happens next is truly amazing. The three armies that had come to invade Judah all turned on each other and began fighting among themselves! Pretty soon they had killed each other, and Judah just stood there watching. Crazy, huh?

When pressure comes, trust God’s word.

4. The result of trusting in God.

So this insane stuff happens. The armies all run around killing each other while Judah stands and watches it happen. And then, after all the armies are dead, Judah rushes down to the battlefield to claim the spoils. But the best result comes in verse 30: “So Jehoshaphat’s kingdom was at peace, for his God had given him rest on every side.”

The result of trusting in God?

Peace. And rest.

In His faithfulness and goodness, God had delivered His people and had given them peace.

There’s nothing better.

Girls, you will experience pressure in this life. Sometimes the pressure will be more intense than others. But how you handle the pressure reveals a lot about your character.

Will you run to the Lord? Will you pour your heart out to Him? Will you trust His word?

If you do, I guarantee you will ultimately rest in His peace.

Good Reads

A few of my favorite posts as of late.

Why people think Christians are fake :: Stuff Christians Like. Yes. This.

Church and the College Years :: The Gospel Coalition blog. Our friend and the college pastor of our church, Jon Nielson, writes about the importance of being involved in a local church while in college. If you have a college student or know someone who does, send this one on to them.

The Talk :: Momastery. If you've got kids going to school, this is one important talk to have with them. No, it's not "the" talk, but it's just as important.

Fleeing to Paris :: A Deeper Story. Beautifully written story of growing toward grace.

10 Things You've Got to Know About Fear :: (in)Courage. Ann Voskamp. What can I say?

Are You a Mother First? Hmmmm :: Off the Beaten Path. Kay brings such great perspective and wisdom to every post she writes, and this one is no exception. Is mothering our first and foremost job? This post will make you think.

The Truth About Pain in Childbearing :: The Gospel Coalition blog. And then there's this one that literally brought tears to my eyes. The pain of childbearing is hitting me pretty hard right now.

Top 10 Words of Warning Advice I may or may not tell my students on the first day of class

 School starts for me next week, and believe it or not, I’m strangely excited about it. I have always, always, even when I was in middle school, loved the first day of school. What happens after the first day may be another story, but there has always been something magical about the first day for me.

That’s probably why I’m a teacher today. It's all about the first day.

So as I’ve been working on my syllabus for this semester, working through new textbooks and thinking about my past classes, I thought of some things my students might want to know ahead of time. These pieces of advice come from 21 years of teaching experience. Boy, could I tell stories!

Oh, I guess I have.

Now, understand, I hope and pray that none of my students EVER find my blog (ha!), but just in case you know a college student who would benefit from these words of advice, feel free to share.

1. I am not your mother. I do not want to know that you stayed up until 3:30 in the morning and couldn’t get out of bed for class. I will not call you to make sure you get up. I will not text you to see where you were. Just come to class. On time.

2. I like paper. Call me a murderer of trees, but I like to read your paper on, well, paper. I like to scribble and make squiggly lines on your paper. I like to write long notes at the end of your work—I think this is one of the best ways you learn how to get better at your craft. I don’t want you to send me your paper via email (although lots of great professors do), and I certainly don’t want you to hand me a disk that I’ll have to put in my own computer and which could possibly give my computer a virus of some sort. Nope. Just gimme the paper.

3. Your phone is not invited to class. If something is more important than my class, go handle it outside of class. Take an absence if you want, but just don’t bring it into my sanctuary.

4. And speaking of absences . . . yes, they do exist in college. I may not look like I’m taking attendance in front of the class, but I’m doing it in my mind. And, yes, your presence in our class matters—to me and to your classmates.

5. Sniffing. I hate sniffing. Get a tissue.

6. I’m not blind—I see stuff. I see your phone under the desk (put it away!). I see you doing homework for another class (it’s pretty obvious when you should be taking notes and when you don’t need to be writing anything). I see that smug look on your face that says, “I could be teaching this class right now.” That’s the one I really wish I could remove from the classroom.

7. I’m not as self-assured as I might seem. When you give me that smug face, it actually does hurt a little bit, even though I don’t want to give you the benefit of thinking so. Remember that your professor is a human being and treat me as such.

8. Which reminds me to tell you that I have a life outside of this classroom. Last night I probably ran my daughter to piano lessons, made dinner, vacuumed the living room, worked on a writing project, cleaned up dog puke, and graded papers until my head felt like it was going to explode. My life gets to me sometimes just like school gets to you. Grace, please.

9. You are not God’s gift to the English language. (And neither am I.) You are in my class because you have at least one thing to learn, so figure out what that is, practice it like crazy, and feel like you’ve accomplished something by the end of the semester. A big head about your abilities will get you exactly . . . nowhere.

10. I like you. I have no preconceived ideas about you based on where you’re from, what positions you take, or especially (goodness no!) how well you write. I come into the semester thinking that we’re going to have fun in class and that I’m going to learn something from you. I assume that you are a decent, interesting, likeable human being. Try not to prove me wrong.

So here we go. The semester is here. It’s going to be crazy-busy, a writing whirlwind—a typing typhoon if you will (ah, no). You’ll want to shoot me at times, and you’ll probably want to cuss me out at other times. But hopefully, in the end, you’ll see that I cared about you and wanted to help you learn something.

Let’s get to work!

How about you? What words of advice would YOU give my students? Did you like the first day of school?

Letters to My Daughters - Letting Go

Dear Daughters,

I understand why they do it. Those moms who hold their children close—so close that they can’t even breathe.

I know why they stand at the kindergarten door, hands cupped around their face, nose pressed against the glass, just hoping to get a glimpse of their little one as he marches into the classroom for the very first time.

I know why they sit on the sidelines for every. single. soccer practice and that, while it looks like they’re reading a magazine, they are really watching their middle schooler run and kick and slide because they are so proud that they made such an amazing person who can do those things.

I know why they volunteer for every opportunity they can—the marching band or the dance team or the school play—because it gives them just a few more minutes to be with their high school child; just one more point of connection with a kid who will very soon be gone.

I know why, when they drop their son or daughter off at college, they look over their shoulder and say, “Your room will be waiting for you when you get home!”

I get it. I’ve been it, that smothering mother. (You probably think I still am.)

But there’s a difference between some of those moms and me: I have raised you to let you go.

On the day I first became a mother I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—hold you near me forever. I wanted to give the three of you wings. I wanted you to discover all that this big, wide world had to offer, and I wanted you to make your own path through it.

As much as I could, I showed you the world: Brazil. Switzerland. England. I did this intentionally, to trigger your imagination, to encourage you to see the possibilities. Mostly, though, to help you see that God is in all of it and that His plans for the world include you.

Yes, I believe in letting go.

That doesn’t make it easy.

This is a big week of transitions for us. A week in which it would be easy for me to stay under my covers, blocking out the fact that two of you are starting new schools and one of you is taking big steps toward adulthood. This is a week that seems important and huge and permanent. This is one of those weeks that I hope I’ve prepared each of you for, and yet, a week that I wish I had not been so intentional about.

A week in which I wish I could say, “Come back! Stay here!”

Those moms? The ones who hold a little too tightly? Me, if I’m honest. They hold on because they love their kids. They hold on because they want to stay involved in the lives of their kids. They hold on because they think that if they don’t, their kids will leave them forever.

They do it because it hurts so very much to let go.

Needtobreathe has a new song out—when I heard it for the first time this week I stopped in my tracks. I needed this reminder to keep holding you not quite so tightly.

Cause if you never leave home, never let go

You’ll never make it to the great unknown till you

Keep your eyes open, my love

So tell me you’re strong, tell me you see

I need to hear it, can you promise me to

Keep your eyes open, my love

Girls, the “great unknown” is out there, waiting for you to make a difference in it. Keep your eyes open and do that—make a difference.

Prove me right.

A Rerun - For Emma

One night this week, two of Caroline's best friends came over to say goodbye--they are all leaving for college soon, so they were having one last movie night at our house. And while one of the girls will actually be Caroline's roommate next year, the other is moving a long, long way away. As I was hugging her goodbye, sweet Emma said to me, "I'm reading your blog! I've been reading it since we went blueberry picking that day." I laughed so hard as I remembered that fateful blueberry non-picking day, and I told her I would rerun the story just for her.

So Emma, this one is for you. I wish you all the best in college (I know you will do great!) and look forward to actually picking blueberries with you some day. We love you, sweetie!

* * *

Warning: The tale you are about to read will make you weep. If it doesn’t, you have no soul.

Today was going to be a great day. It was the one day of the summer that I probably look forward to more than any of the year. It’s the day I pack my little darlings in the car and drive for a little over an hour to a blueberry farm where we get to stand in a field, pick berries, and sweat. It’s glorious, and it’s a tradition that we’ve held to pretty much since before Maggie was born.

Today was going to be the day.

But it wasn’t.

Oh, we left our house at nine o’clock this morning, alright. We drove down the highway. We even suffered through a traffic jam for about 45 minutes while singing “Mama Mia” hits. We finally made it to our destination, albeit a little late, but very excited to start filling our little metal pails with blueberry goodness.

But as we drove to the gate of the farm, this is what greeted us:



For those of you who can’t quite read the sign, here’s what it said: “We are closed until Monday, July 27. We finished the 1st pick and the berries need more time to ripen for the 2nd pick. We have large crowds.”

Every one of our jaws dropped as the realization of the situation came upon us. I very nearly drove into the ditch.

“WHAT?!” we all screamed at once.

No blueberries. No blueberry muffins. No blueberry coffee cake. No blueberry crisp. No blueberry pie.

The blueberry farm’s predicament was truly our demise as we realized that today was it. The only day we could work in a trip to the farm to pick blueberries. Next week, all the girls will be gone on different trips, so there was no chance we could go back.

My heart started to sink and sink fast. I knew we had to do something (believe me, the thought of parking down the road and sneaking into the berry farm actually crossed my mind for a minute), so we headed into the nearest town to the diner we always hit on our way home, and we ate lots of greasy food at 11:00 in the morning. Disgusting, I know. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

And then we headed home. Dazed and confused we were, and suddenly Kate realized that we (O.K., I was) moving through the five stages of grief.

Here’s kind of how it went down:

Stage 1 – Denial. “OH NO! This can’t be happening! How could they do this to us?” This was the point at which I contemplated hiding my car in the woods and sneaking onto the property. Who cares that I didn’t have a bucket in the car? I’d figure something out. I just knew I HAD to have those berries.

Stage 2 – Anger. “I called last week and they said they’d be picking for three weeks! They can’t do this!” My rational brain was completely gone by now and my crazy-out-of-my-mind brain took over, thinking of every possible reason I could have to take that berry farm to court. Don’t they know this is the ONLY day all summer that we could get out to their lousy farm to pick their scrawny berries out in the scorching heat?

Stage 3 – Bargaining. “They might not have enough berries for everyone, but maybe they would have enough for me. Maybe if I offer them a little more money, they would open the gate to just let my one little car through. We wouldn’t take too many. There would be plenty left for next week’s suckers pickers.”

Stage 4 – Depression. “You girls go ahead and eat your lunch and drink your milk shakes. I couldn’t eat a thing. I’m just too sad.” And on it went, throughout lunch and the drive home. Me, shaking my head, pounding my fists on the steering wheel (I guess that takes me back to the anger stage, doesn’t it?), and saying, “I’m just so sad” for the next hour or so.

Stage 5 – Acceptance. Truthfully? I’m not there yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be there.

I sure had different expectations for today’s blog post. I was going to come home and take pictures of the freezer bags filled with blueberries stacked up on my kitchen counter. I was going to bake a pie and show you how beautiful it was.

Instead, I’m sitting, still depressed, on my porch writing this sad tale of woe.

The saddest part, to me, though, is that we didn’t make it to the blueberry farm last year either. We were either out of town or too busy, so we didn’t go. And now this. Does missing a tradition for two years in a row make it not a tradition anymore?

Because if that’s the case, I’m sadder than I even was this morning.

* * *

Now, if you're wondering about Fabulous Friday Food, don't despair. Here's a link to one of my all-time favorite blueberry recipes (and the FFF post that shows how it's done). Have a great weekend!

Letters to My Daughters - Take a Stand

Dear Daughters,

“If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” Alexander Hamilton

I’ve heard a song on the radio lately that seems to be getting a lot of play. If I’ve heard it, you’ve probably heard it—it’s called “Some Nights.”

The first couple of times I heard the song I was kind of shocked that someone would be so blatantly honest about their “lostness.”

“Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh

What do I stand for? Oh what do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know.”

There’s a story there, and the interpretations are many (trust me, I Googled it). The meaning behind the song doesn’t really matter to me. What really stands out is that the songwriter obviously does not have a purpose in life. Over and over again he asks: “Who am I?” “What do I stand for?”

It struck me as I listened to the lyrics that these are the questions of your generation. Not just yours, of course—many generations before you have asked the same questions—but especially today, right now, many people seem to lack direction.

Quite simply, they’re lost.

Hey, I’m glad this songwriter is asking the question. Thinking through these issues is much better than just sitting on the front porch waiting for life to just come along. What’s frustrating to me about this song is that it seems like the songwriter is just waiting for someone or something to tell him what to be, what to think, what to believe.

Girls, I want you to hear this: you can’t wait for “life” to come along and tell you what you stand for. You have to decide. You don’t have to ask, “Who am I?” You have the power to determine that for yourself.

Do you want to be a person of integrity? Then be that.

Do you want to be a person who keeps her word? Then start practicing that today.

Do you want to be faithful to your husband? Then determine before you are even married that you will be a faithful wife.

Do you want to be a loser sitting on a front porch waiting for life to come along? Then do nothing, sit waiting, and you’ll be that too.

This song reflects a real sense of hopelessness, and that’s what makes me sad. It’s like the songwriter feels that he has no power. But I wonder if, really, the power has been given away—if so many of us have become accustomed to just having “life” handed to us that we’ve begun to rely on others to even tell us who we are.

Believe me, if you don’t know who you are, the world will happily decide it for you. The world will tell you that you are not enough. The world will tell you that you are a loser. The world will tell you that you aren’t worth it. The world will tell you all kinds of lies, some much worse than these.

You know this, but it bears repeating. God tells you clearly in His word who you are: chosen, beloved, cherished above the heavenly beings, forgiven, redeemed, called. There’s more—much more—but you get the idea.

There will be days when you will ask the question “Who am I?” We all have them. When those days come, run to God’s word, because therein lies the answer. Just look at the sacrifice that was made for you on the cross. The answer to the “Who am I?” question is clear: You are worth it.

God decided a long time ago who you are. You don’t need society or friends or even your parents to tell you who you are.

Once you determine that God decides who you are, then you’ll have the answer to the main question of the song: “What do I stand for?” If you are God’s beloved, chosen, redeemed by His sacrifice, and if you claim those titles for your life, what you stand for should be pretty clear—you stand for Him.

Is that an easy stand to take in these days? No. Absolutely not. And I would guess that it will become a more and more difficult stand to take in the days ahead. But if you really think about it, if you really get your head around the gospel and who you are because of Jesus, you have no other choice.

Will that stand look differently in each of your lives? I’m guessing yes. God will call you down different paths, to different careers, and to make different choices. But ultimately the decision is yours.

Will you choose to believe that you are who God made you to be? Or will you choose to believe the lies of this world?

Much different lyrics this time, but the question remains: “What do I stand for?”

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand.

What will you stand for?

Letters to My Daughters - Introduction

They’re growing up—quickly! This fall, my youngest daughter will enter high school, my middle daughter will enter college, and my oldest daughter will begin the second half of her college years.

Very soon they will be headed toward internships, marriage, careers . . . what some call “real” life.

Maybe you’ve felt it too, maybe you’re feeling it right now, but lately I am well aware that my time with my daughters is getting short.

And yet, it feels like there are so many life lessons that haven’t been talked about, that still need to be shared. It feels odd and uncomfortable to sit them down and talk about these things—I prefer lessons to flow naturally out of everyday life. Yet it seems that more and more I find myself thinking, “Have I told them that?” “Do they know how important that is?”

From “how to make a great spaghetti sauce” to “how to choose a husband,” I’m constantly wondering, “Have I given them the tools they need to live a fruitful and fulfilling life?”

Obviously, real life conversations with my girls are ongoing. Of course I am, hopefully, teaching them many life lessons every day. But here I want to record some specific lessons that God has taught me, most of which I have had to learn the hard way because my heart is stubborn and doesn’t like to listen to instruction.

I may have made a mistake or two that I’d like to help my girls avoid.

As I write this series, I am also thinking about the many other “daughters” that God has brought into my life. My nieces. Girls from small groups and mission trips. And my daughters’ friends whom I have been so blessed to know.

Three amazing daughters of my own. Many “adopted” daughters. So much estrogen in my life!

How could I be so blessed?

My hope here is to bless back. To impart just a little bit of wisdom so that these girls may find life just a little easier to navigate. To give them a sense that someone else had ridden this road and that everything is going to be O.K.

So tomorrow, a new series called “Letters to My Daughters” will begin here. I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know exactly what I’ll say. I don’t even know how often these posts will come out (probably whenever I feel like it, but most likely on Monday or Tuesday). I do know that writing this been on my heart for the past couple of months, so it must be something I should do.

Will you join me? I’d love to have you come along on this journey. Feel free to follow me or sign up for email updates in the sidebar.

And while you’re still here, are there any topics you think I should cover? I have a lot of ideas right now, but I’m open to suggestions. Feel free to add those in the comments!

Good Reads . . . and an announcement!

A few posts I have enjoyed lately:

How to Protect Yourself from Identity Theft and Bank Fraud :: Imparting Grace. My friend, Richella, recently went through a horrific ordeal and shares her experience. You really need to read this and protect yourself from identity theft. [edited to add: I totally forgot to link to Richella's follow up to this story! It is amazing!]

Are You Mom Enough? (Mommy Wars) :: Desiring God Blog. Anyone else sick to death of the mommy wars? This puts an end to it for me.

If You've Ever Been Wounded by Women :: Ann VosKamp. Speaking of women treating each other badly. Ann again says so eloquently what I feel. "Who can bear living the whole of their lives and never learn what it means to really be a friend? I long to learn." Me too.

25 Ways to Wear a Scarf in 4.5 Minutes :: Modern Country Style. On a lighter note . . . Fall is coming, and along with it comes scarves! Ever wonder how to really tie a scarf? Here is a cute, cute video showing you 25 creative ways to tie one on. :)

Now for the announcement. Be sure to come back on Monday when I'll introduce a new series on my blog. It's something I've been thinking about for a long time, and I'm really excited about it. I hope you'll follow along!

Now tell me, what's the best post you've read or written this week? Link up in the comments!

Fabulous Friday Food - Corn and Black Bean Salsa

Hi guys!

I only have about 10 minutes to write before I have to go help one of my dear friends. Her son is getting married this weekend (fun!), and a group of us is pitching in to help pull off the rehearsal dinner. It's warming in my oven (BBQ Brisket--yum!) right now, and I'm headed over to help set up soon.

So I thought I'd write a blog post.

Makes sense, right?

Well, this recipe is so easy you can probably pull it together in about 10 minutes. And to prove it, I'm going to blog it in 10 minutes. Let's race, shall we?

Last week I had such a craving for this that I just HAD to make it. I served it with Steak Fajitas that were equally delicious. I could eat it all over again it was that good.

I love Corn and Black Bean Salsa because it's easy, it's fresh, and you can eat it with chips, on top of your fajitas, or just as a salad. Versatile food, this one.

So here we go. There won't be many pictures because it's just. that. easy.

Ingredients. Corn (obviously), black beans (again, obvi), red pepper, red onion, avocado, lime, and cilantro. You can shake things up by adding a little jalepeno if you want, or tomato, or whatever else your little heart desires. Also, I LOVE Trader Joe's frozen roasted sweet corn--so good!--but you could use fresh sweet corn or canned corn or just regular old frozen corn if you want.

Microwave about 2 cups of the corn for a couple of minutes, just to take the chill off. I then rinsed it in cold water and let it drain for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, chop the pepper, onion, and cilantro and place them all in a bowl with the beans. Stir this.

Add the corn and the avocado last, just so you don't smush up the avocado too much when you stir.

Add the juice of one lime, a splash of olive oil, a little salt and pepper, then stir the whole business up one last time.

Pour into a pretty bowl and refrigerate a couple of hours before serving.

[Side note: I just had to chuckle to myself about the chips. I'm sure that the Pioneer Woman uses only full-triangle tortilla chips when she shoots her food. Me? I only had half a bag of chips stuck in the back of the pantry, so I used all the broken pieces from the bottom of the bag. Typical.]

There! I'm pretty sure most, if not all of you can do this.

I know! Why not have a party this weekend and make this salsa? Invite your friends and neighbors. They will all love you and want to come back for more.

Ten minutes, and I'm done. And you will be too. Have a great weekend!

So tell me, do you ever get a hankering for a food that you just HAVE to have? What is it? Share here!

"What I Did on My Summer Vacation"

Hi all!

Just checking in from a life that just seems to get in the way of the blog.

We just spent two glorious weeks in the Northwoods. You remember last summer, right? When we spent a month up there? We liked it so much that we decided to go back, but without the luxury of a sabbatical we had to “settle” for two weeks. I’m not complaining.

One week of vacation is delicious, but two weeks is sublime.

 The first week of vacation is usually spent unwinding anyway, so after you’ve unwound, you get to practice relaxing for a while. And it does take practice. If you’ve never taken a two-week vacation, you really should try it.

I came back feeling like a blob of jello.

So what did we do on our vacation?

We made s’mores. Over the lamest fires you’ve ever seen. You’d never know we have spent thousands of dollars sending our girls to summer camp to learn how to make a fire. I think we need to get our money back. Still, the s’mores were yummy.

We slept. A lot. Something about all that fresh air made us all tired. One day, after waking up around 8, I felt like I needed a nap . . . at 10. But there’s just something nice about not needing to be anywhere and nobody caring one way or another if you decide to take a nap two hours after you wake up.

We tanned. Oh yes we did. I will shout it from the rooftops that I spent as much time in the sun as I could. Because when you live in a place where you barely see the sun from February through April, you’re pretty excited to finally bask in it for a while.

We boated. B has his little canoe/kayak combo thingy, which is really fun. So much fun that one day we took off in his little boat, leaving the kids behind, and headed out exploring. Three hours later, after running into some pretty windy conditions on the lake which may have involved whitecaps, we finally made it back to our dock. I may or may not have kissed it.

 We watched the Olympics. Four years ago we were on a missions trip in Switzerland when the Olympics took place, so we really didn’t get to see them. In fact (embarrassing confession here), until a few weeks ago I honestly had never hears of Ussain Bolt. Truly! That’s how unOlympic-savvy I am. So this time around we were all excited to take in as much Olympic action as possible. Favorites so far? Gabby Douglas. Jordyn Wieber. Missy Franklin. I have a thing for teenage girls.

And after this morning’s Today Show interview with Lolo Jones, I think she may very well be making the list too.

We went on adventures. Caroline really wanted to show us a place she had been to in the Upper Peninsula, so we drove three hours to find it. Only when we got there she said it wasn’t where she had been. Thankfully, the forward-thinking mother of this family suggested that we bring B’s iPad along with us, and we were able to actually find the remote island that she wanted to see.

Little Presque Isle. Not just your average, plain old, run-of-the-mill Presque Isle.

 It was worth every tense moment of frustration.

We fished. Well, some of us fished. Some of us just watched from the dock while we baked basked in the sun.

On this trip, Julia learned how to bait a hook AND how to take the fish off the hook. I was so proud of my little fisherwoman!

In fact, she got so good at it that she caught this:

 Right after that, B thought he’d get in on the bass action, so he threw in a line and caught this:

 He may or may not have thrown it back.

We had a great vacation, and we loved every minute of just being together. We missed Kate, who was busy working at the camp across the lake, but we got to see her a couple of times.

Now real life rushes in. It’s time for me to head back to work and see if I can find my office again. It’s time for the girls to get ready for school.

And it’s time for Kate to come home!

How about you?? What have you been doing this summer? I'd love to hear from you, so leave a comment!

Book Review - "The Kingdom"

What would a world without Scripture look like?

This is just one of the questions Bryan Litfin poses in his Cheveis trilogy. I’ve recently read the third and final installment—after a year-long wait (!)—and enjoyed every minute of the time I’ve spent with Teo and Ana, following their adventures throughout Cheveis and the great Beyond.

The first book, The Sword, sets the scene and poses the question of what would happen if the Word of God was lost forever. The second book, The Gift, follows Teo and Ana on some amazing adventures as they get to know what is in the great Book and as they encounter those who do not want the Word of God to be made known.

The final book, The Kingdom, continues the journey as Teo and Ana are called to spread the Word to the far reaches of the Beyond. But they encounter severe spiritual opposition, even from some who claim to be followers of Deus (their word for God). Several exciting battle scenes later, Teo and Ana are poised to finally return home to the land that they love, but they must still fight for their love (yes, there is a love story woven throughout all three books).

I love how Bryan Litfin weaves deep theological questions with the genre of fantasy and romance. I love how he brings these characters to life and makes me want to know more about them. I love his descriptions of battle scenes and beautiful settings of places I know he has visited many times in Europe.

Of course, there may have been a scene or two that seemed a little contrived, particularly the love scenes between Teo and Ana. This could be, though, because I know Bryan from church (seriously, Bryan, how DO you write this stuff?!). Also, his use of modern phrases mixed with a fictional language with a medieval bent occasionally bothered this English teacher. But overall the books, all three, were so enjoyable I didn’t want them to end.

So back to my question: What would a world without Scripture look like?

I recently read these verses in the book of Amos:

“People will stagger from sea to sea

and wander from border to border

searching for the word of the LORD,

but they will not find it.

Beautiful girls and strong young men will grow faint in that day,

Thirsting for the LORD’s word.” Amos 8:12-13

These verses tell me that a world without the word of God looks much like the world of Teo and Ana—filled with people who are thirsting for the Lord’s word, searching for it. Things may seem hopeless for a time, but in the end, as the prophet Isaiah tells us:

“The grass withers and the flowers fade,

But the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40:8

Even though it seems, even today, like the Word of God could die out forever, it will not. Never. God is still in His Heaven. He is still working out His plan for His creation. And He will never let His word be lost.

This is Bryan Litfin’s theme, and it has challenged me to take God’s Word more seriously and to treat it as the precious gift that it is.

I’d say that’s a pretty good takeaway.

Sales Call

A word-for-word transcript of a call that took place in my home last week: 

“Hello, may I speak to Shelly’s parent?”

“Excuse me?”

“May I please speak to Shelly’s parent?”

“Well, Shelly’s parents live in Arizona.”

Silence.

“Uh. Oh, really? Do you take care of Shelly?”

“Yes, you could say that. I definitely take care of Shelly. Shelly is almost 50 years old.”

Silence again.

Deep breath.

“Well, my name is Greg, and I’m calling from the SAT prep program.”

Click.

Good Reads

So many great posts lately! Here are some that just MUST be shared.

"How to Really Protect Your Children" : Flower Patch Farm Girl. Shannan knows how to live . . . and how to write . . . and how to parent. I love this girl's heart.

"Dear Body" : To Think is to Create. I wish, I wish, I wish I could get to this point. I'm working on it, but I need to read this a few more times to let the lesson really sink in.

"Self, Doubt, and Writing" : Desiring God blog. As long as we're on the subject of my insecurities . . .

"The 1 Thing You Really Have to Know About Your Family" : Ann VosKamp. Warning: this one will wreck you. In a good way.

"The Fight for Glory" : The Gospel Coalition blog. Beautiful grace.

"Why We Need to Struggle" : We are THAT Family. Seems like Kristin and Ann are struggling with the same things. And passing it on for us to wrestle with. Hmmmm.

"Lessons from those We Walk Behind" : Off the Beaten Path. We really DO have something to learn from the generations who went before us. Kay reminds us of some of those lessons that seem to be getting lost today. Excellent!

"5 Things I want my freshman daughter to remember" : Such the Spot by Darcy. As a mom to TWO freshmen this year (one high school, one college) I could NOT have said this better myself. In fact, all three of my girls should read this, because no matter what their stage in life, the advice still rings true. So good!

So these were some of my favorites lately. What were some of your favorite posts this week? Share the link in the comments.

It's a Good Question {Italy - Part 2}

"Where did you see Jesus today?" 

This was the question Mark asked at the end of each day of camp. It was a question I knew was coming, and yet I still had to think about it, searching for the answer as I walked through my day.

It's a good question to think about, even here at home.

So where did I see Jesus in Italy? 

I saw Him in the kids. Smiles everywhere. Willing hands. Vulnerability. Joy. Our kids—the American ones—were so intentional about praying, seeking out opportunities to share their faith, even turning conversations toward Christ during down time. Their faith, their enthusiasm, encouraged me so much and showed me that Jesus is alive and active in the kids of our church.

I saw Him in the Italian kids, too. Wide-eyed. Questioning. Listening. Talking. They quickly connected with the American kids and were so open to hearing about Jesus. Some already knew Him, but still, they wanted to know more. And their hunger reminded me that we Americans don’t have all the answers. All we can do is love and allow God to do His work.

I saw Him in the missionaries, pastors, and Christian workers who helped us all week. So much giving. So much pouring of themselves for the sake of the gospel. So much hope amidst some very difficult circumstances. Some of the volunteers had sacrificed a week of work so that they could help translate for us—that showed me Jesus in a big way. And with each encounter with the Italian Christians, I saw their love for Christ and their passion to share that love with others.

Jesus showed up in Italy, yes He did. He showed up in a big way in S’s life, as she encountered His life-giving salvation for the first time. He showed up through N, a girl from our church who has loved S and has prayed for her for the past three years. How good He was to allow N to be a part of S’s story! He showed up when N gave S her first Bible--walking her through it, explaining the Old Testament and New Testament, and showing her how to spend time in God’s word each day. Such a beautiful thing.

Every day we asked ourselves that question: “Where did you see Jesus today?”

And at the end of each day, I had to think about another question as well: Did others see Jesus in me? Because, if I’m supposed to look around for Jesus, I need to remember that those around me are looking to find Him, too.

Do they see Him here? Am I reflecting Jesus to my family, my friends, my co-workers, and even those I meet?

It’s a good question.

Italy - Part 1

I’ve probably put it off long enough, talking about my trip to Italy. I’ve been home for almost a week already and am finding it hard to put into words all that happened on the trip.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’ll probably word dump here, and it might take more than one blog post.

Hang with me while I try to sort it all out, O.K.?

So why did I go to Italy of all places? First of all, why not Italy? As I wrote before I left, Italians need Jesus too, so why not? As I found out while I was there, Italians really need Jesus—a lot. As is much of Europe these days, Italy has become a post-Christian culture. Sure, many still attend the Roman Catholic church that their families have attended for generations, but I would guess that if you asked the average Italian why they attend church, if they attend at all, they would be hard-pressed to give you an answer.

“Church” is just one more cultural symbol to them. It’s just what you do on special holidays. It doesn’t have much to do with average, everyday Italian life.

We went to Italy to join with three very small Italian evangelical churches to put on a sports/English camp for Italian youth. But it was much more than that; this was also a chance to share Jesus with Italian kids. The people we worked with there have a vision to reach younger generations for Christ and to start a movement that will affect families for years to come. It makes sense, and it’s working, but the work is slow and difficult.

So what did our days look like? Each morning we would start at 8:00 a.m. with a team meeting. Mark, the missionary from our church, would read a passage from Philippians and give us encouragement for the day. Then we’d spend some time in prayer before we welcomed the kids.

 The days of camp went so fast! The mornings were filled with sports and games as well as a brief time of Bible study and discussion. After lunch, we’d have English lessons for about an hour and a half, followed by a gelato break (!) and more games. 

The kids were picked up at 6:00 p.m.

After that, our team would meet again for about a half an hour. Each day Mark would ask us two questions: “Where did you see Jesus today?” and “Where would you like to see Jesus show up tomorrow?” These were important questions to think about because sometimes, when the day flies by as quickly as ours did, you forget to stop and think about how the Lord is working.

And, boy, did He work! 

Tomorrow I’ll share a bit about how Jesus showed up at the camp.

Bongiourno!

That means "hello" from Italy!

Not much time to write here, and this is the last day I'll have internet access, but I just thought I'd pop in to say that I am well and happy here in Italy. I miss my family terribly, but as I explained to my husband in an email this morning, I try not to think about that too much or I would be distracted from doing what I'm supposed to be doing.

Travel over here was full of delays, missed planes, more delays, and late flights. Twenty-three hours and nine minutes later, we finally made it to Bologna. The joys of international travel, I guess.

We spent the first full day in Italy touring a medieval village called Ferrara. It was beautiful, thousands of years old, and HOT. The temperature has been incredible--like nothing I've experienced before. It was over 100 degrees for our first three days here . . . and have I mentioned that we have no air conditioning in the hostel where we're staying? Apparently the Italians are superstitious about air conditioning--they think it's not good for your health--so not many people even have it. Can you say unbearable?

But apparently it IS bearable because I have not melted or died or even gotten sick. God is good.

On Sunday our group was split into three smaller groups to attend three different evangelical churches in the area. What a blessing to worship with believers from across the globe who speak a different language, share many different customs, but worship the same God. Amazing.

This week has been full as we have run the camp for Italian youth every day. We begin our day at 8:00 a.m. and finish around 6:30 p.m., but God has supplied all the energy and stamina we need. We've played games, taught English, and heard stories of people who have been changed by Jesus. Most importantly, many significant conversations have taken place, and that's what we're here for.

I'm going offline for a few days, but you can be sure things are going very well here. I will come home with lots of happy stories to share.

God is good.