Choosing Death. Choosing Reliance.

I read about men and women being stripped of their skin and still praising our Savior. Those having their tongues cut out, and still raising their hands in adoration. They trust the goodness of their God even in the face of immense persecution and absolute pain. They rely on the help of the Holy Spirit to see with eternity’s eyes what’s really at hand. They cling to His power to finish the race in obedience and faith. 

I have not recently, nor ever, risked death or agony or the loss of all I love for Jesus’ name. 

But I have known what it means to fully rely upon the help of the Holy Spirit when you feel you have nothing left to give. 

When my husband is hurting, and the wrong that has been done him overwhelms. To swallow my “Look at all I’ve been doing for you!!” knowing I need to strive to really hear him and ask God to convict me of my own sin. When his words pierce because they’re not based on what I see as truth. But I know it’s how he feels. When my flesh just wants to clear myself of all wrong and tell him he’s believing lies. Listening, hearing, understanding. That takes Holy Spirit power. To breathe out my default and breathe in the sacrifice of self. 

When my kids are being trained. When we have to have the very same conversations over and over and over again with no sure hope of them getting it this time. When I have to choke down my anger when all I want to do is yell and tell them how dumb they’re being. My flesh wants to blow up, but I know I must respond in tenderness, firmness and grace. That takes Holy Spirit intercession. To breathe out the frustration and exhaustion and breathe in the peace that passes all understanding. 

Moment by moment. Choosing to take up my cross. Rely upon Him. 

It’s the day-to-day relationships, the dying of selfish gain, the surrendering of my expectations and hopes where I find my crossroads. The true test of my faith. “Will you step out in obedience? Will you choose to do what’s right, even when you feel you’ve lost all strength to do so? Will you rely upon Me fully, knowing I raised Christ from the dead, and I now live within you?”

Lord, remind me that your power resides within. Help me choose life by choosing the death of my selfishness. The death of my default. May I find great victory by the Holy Spirit within. For your glory alone. Amen.

I Saved a Life

 

Last night, we spotted what looked like a small iguana on our roof. It was fascinating. It didn’t look native to our area, so I wrote our neighborhood to see if someone was missing a pet.

We checked this morning, and he was still there. This afternoon, we checked again. Still there. He was roasting if he wasn’t already dead. I just knew he was stuck. Nathan assumed he was very likely toast. But what if he could still make it?

If I can chase a coral snake, surely I can climb a ladder, crawl up our roof and save this animal. So I donned my pants and protective gloves and climbed that ladder.

“Hey Buddy. We’re going to get you down, Bud.”

“Mom, why are you calling him Buddy?”

“Guys, he’s totally breathing.”

The ladder didn’t reach high enough for me to safely get on the roof. So we tried a broom, a rake…Finally two beach nets tied together. As I snatched him up in the net, I could tell he was definitely roasted. Crispy hard.

I pulled him down more. Very nervous he was going to fall on my face. But inching closer to the edge. The closer he got, the shinier and harder he appeared. Then he fell off the roof. The kids crowded around.

Judah scooped him up to my horror and said, “My lizard!”

“Huh? Put that thing down!”

“It’s my pet lizard, Mom. I got him at the Dollar Store. I forgot I threw him up there.”

———–

I saved a life today, folks. The life of a hard, plastic Dollar Store lizard.

Leaving the Platform in Pursuit of the Table

“How do you do it? How do you find that balance between family and children and bed times and cleaning and hospitality?”

My genuine, simplified response was, “I don’t.”

About a year ago, I stepped mostly away from Facebook. It was pretty much the only online community of which I was an active member. I found great joy sharing my struggles, my joys, the hilariously honest accounts of life with four young children. Mothering as I struggled to find my identity, choosing my husband and our marriage when it meant dying to self, homeschooling, natural health. I found community in these Facebook friends. Likemindedness, fist bumps, “yeh, me, too’s”.

But something there was lacking.

Welcomed Otherness.

My friends, the groups I was a part of, the discussions I chose to join, we all shared common views, struggles, faith, or birth choices. And a big chunk of my attention, time, and thoughts was fully given to this group of Same. When there was “discussion”, it typically became heated and nasty and hate-filled, with little regard for the other’s story or background or experiences. Personhood was largely ignored, and one’s ideas alone were made the source of either praise or persecution.

So, in my concern, I left behind the platform in search of the table.

I knew the table offered a vital component that social media was lacking. People, in the flesh, present. Sitting side-by-side, gathered round a strategically cut and once smoothed piece of wood, indulging in a shared meal, asking questions and actually listening. The table offers the opportunity to see one’s facial expressions. To hear one’s inflection of voice. To discern what moves and frustrates and brings joy to another.

It’s been a learning process, yet a joy for me to intentionally invite and welcome in the Same, the Somewhat Different, and the Stark Opposite. To gather and eat and share and hear.

But “there’s always something to be lost around a table. Always something to be suffered,” my obviously wise husband replied to our dear friend upon my moderately  unhelpful remark. “Your grocery budget. Your time. Your space. Your children’s bedtime.”

And this, dear friends, is when the gospel, the good news of Jesus, changes the game.

Humankind began in the garden, in full fellowship and joyful community with God. But man chose to despise God’s good command, and sin entered the world. A sentence of death. A sinful mankind could no longer have perfect, unhindered fellowship with a holy God. But God. He sent His Son, Jesus, in human flesh, to a dying world because of the great love He has for us. Jesus lived a sinless life, died a sinner’s death, but defeated death and rose again. Because of Christ’s blood poured out and through repentance of sin and belief in His death and resurrection, we can once again come into complete fellowship with our Creator God. We can join Him at the table. But there’s always something to be suffered.

Your very life.

Christ followers have died to self and received eternal life through Jesus. He gave His life as a ransom for our own. Nothing could compel us to sacrifice for another as the knowledge of Christ’s life for us–unworthy, sinful, other.

We’ve been brought to the table. And so we open our home and our time and our bank account because we’ve so graciously been welcomed, too. Some things lost, yes. Yet so much gained.

It’s typically not pretty. It’s chaotic and messy and sometimes loud and awkward. But it’s beautifully worth it to gather. These groups of Same, Somewhat Different, and Stark Opposites, sharing stories and struggles and silly jokes. Doubts and differing views welcomed.

I don’t think I’ll ever find a balance. A perfect rhythm of mothering and hospitality. But whatever gain I could have from that balance, “I count it all as loss,” as Paul wrote in his letter to the church in Philippi, “because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ ⁹ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— ¹⁰ that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹ that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Don’t Miss the Beautiful

I recently read a fellow homeschooling parent’s miserable woes of this season: “I hate January and February.” The cold and rainy weather. The layers upon layers needed just to open the back door. Flu and RSV and stomach bug after stomach bug. Children are dreading the lessons, and quite frankly, we’re dreading making the kids do them.

Last year, the Lord worked the timing so perfectly. We finished a curriculum mid-year, so we set out on an adventure for two months learning all about our hometown–foods, history, people, places and culture. It was the dramatic distraction from the daily grind that we were all thirsty for.

However. This year, I pretty much had to agree with my forlorn friend.

We were at the point where each moment was spent trying to take the mic and explain to these creatures how valuable an education is and why they should love to do math and how grateful they should be to ride bikes between lessons and have their mother read aloud to them and do their spelling on the kitchen counter while snacking on popcorn and chocolate chips!

All the tantrums, all the tears, all the toil. And that was just me.

Deep breaths.

It was time for a break. I needed to put my focus back on the Divine. Back on His purpose. His calling for this schooling at home thing. Back on beauty and what a gift my creatures are.

The week of “Fun Schooling” really just came together. I had no plans. I just wanted to pair what I love and find inspiring with enjoying my children.

Two of my friends had already offered to take the kids on two separate days. (Can we take a moment and pause and thank Jesus for good, loving, serving friends?) So that was already two huge chunks of time that I would get to recharge however I saw fit. The kids rode horses, fed goats, got muddy, helped to rebuild a structure for a garden, rode tractors and ate yummy food. They spent quality time with friends.

 

And while I knew my kids were in good hands, I strolled a local park, enjoyed chai and fresh watermelon aguas frescas, read C.S. Lewis and listened to “Teaching from Rest”. I journaled and caught up on women’s ministry planning and emails and studied scripture for a class I’m teaching. I sat with my face to the sun and noticed the first buds opening to the warming weather.

When the kids and I were home, I decided to make a trip to the store to purchase things we usually don’t. They each picked out a sketchbook, and we bought a package of

 

fine-tipped markers. We splurged on a new book, a box of decadent petit fours and a couple of comforting candles. I wasn’t sure exactly what we would do, but I knew I wanted it to be restful and cozy.

Upon arriving back home, we lit one of the candles, sampled a few cakes, and the kids sketched as I read from our new book. Even my son who typically refuses to draw or write anything was happy to take part! After lunch, I pulled out a couple of art books I’ve been collecting from various thrift stores. The kids picked one piece they liked, then sketched or painted their own interpretation. I jumped in on this one, too, and so thoroughly enjoyed myself. I’m an awful artist, but there’s something to be said for dipping a brush in paint and watching the colors dance across the page.

 

Another day we competed in Family Olympics. Each of us designed an event–Sequence Tournament, Taco Roll, Bunny Hop, Flamingo Balance and Golf. After all the tallies were made, we snuggled up with pillows and blankets (and a full mattress pulled out of a room) to watch a documentary on flying insects and birds.

This week included two date nights with my strapping husband. The time he chooses to spend with me fills my cup so. We ate scrumptious food at new-to-us restaurants, people-watched, caught up on life and laughed at one another’s idiosyncrasies. It was so sweet to be. Just us. Not rushing or working. Just enjoying.

Homeschooling parent or not, we all reach a time in our year where we are so focused on getting things done or the lack of sunshine or the abundance of laundry, that we miss the beautiful in this all. We forget the bigger picture. We lose the sense of holy.  I would encourage you to take a deep breath. Whatever that may look like for you. Fix your gaze on your Creator and His masterpiece of creation right in front of your face. Slow. Rest. The cold weather may remain. The viruses will still come and go. But we can find a way to see the band of sunlight peeking through the cracks. And perhaps, we’ll be asking for lots more Januarys and Februarys in years to come.

Hope When Anger Cripples

Our 12th anniversary. My husband surprised me with a lavish massage, Thai dinner, and weekend away to rest and enjoy one another. The weather was perfect, the laughter contagious, and I finally felt like I could breathe deeply. I was dancing in a ray of God-given sunshine.

And then, we picked up our four young kids and returned to the daily life of dishes, laundry, homeschool, messes, attitude and activities. Within hours, maybe minutes, of being back at home, my impatience, yelling, discouragement and overwhelm clouded out any encouragement I had gained from our few days of blessed rest.

So quick a change. So drastic.

I felt like I was crippling my children. Causing them to be scared into obedience. I knew it was awful. Reaping the temporary result I wanted while purchasing a future I never fathomed them to endure.

Huddled in a pile of tears and deep thoughts, I felt stuck. Really stuck. I knew something had to change.

This is nothing new to me. I’ve been dealing with discouragement and fits of anger and rage since we began having children ten years ago. So I’m not here writing like I’ve figured it all out. That the struggle is over. But I wanted to list out a handful of questions I take myself through or discuss with a Christ-believing friend. Because staying angry and lashing out at our kids is not okay. There is grace when we fail–grace abundant for those who are in Christ Jesus. But we have been saved to walk in NEW LIFE! The very power that raised Christ from the dead lives within us. We must repent and seek to live as God calls us to live. He has made a way!

If you find yourself in a cycle of anger, pray, pray, pray. Ask God for wisdom and help. Then seek out a trusted friend or mentor and walk through these evaluating questions–perhaps they might help to shed some light and bring hope and healing.

1. What am I believing?
   1. The Apostle Paul makes it clear in his letters of the New Testament that right thinking leads to right living for the redeemed. So if we find ourselves living in an unholy way, we are likely believing falsities. It’s crucial we ask ourselves what it is we are believing that is leading to these angry outbursts.
2. Am I taking care of my health?
   1. Have I been eating well?
   2. Does my daily routine include exercise?
   3. Am I getting sufficient sleep?
   4. Do I need to see a healthcare provider?
3. Have I taken time lately to recharge away from the routine of daily life? Do I have a plan to care for my emotional and spiritual well being?
4. What do I find beautiful and inspiring? Have I been integrating that at home?
5. Am I an active member of a local church? Do I currently have others I can readily confess to, confide in, and seek encouragement from? Are others praying for me?
6. Am I spending time with God through prayer and studying His word regularly?
   1. Meditating on God’s word is crucial to moving our gaze from the present circumstance to the eternal. We will never have a right and lofty view of God apart from reading His word and growing in the knowledge of who He really is.

Friend, you are not alone in this struggle. I’m not here to tell you, “It’s okay–we all do it.” Anger and rage apart from the righteous anger of God is sin. But there is grace–grace sufficient to cover you and cover your children’s future. And there is hope. Hope through the indwelling Holy Spirit. Hope through the Blood of Lamb. Cry out to Him! Cling to His mighty right hand!

 

---

“But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” Psalm 86:15

Restless

I’m done with the Facebooks, the Minimalism, the Organics and Green.

The Soap-Box stands, the Selfies, the Budgets and the

Something News.

Change.

Declutter.

Get fit.

Almond milk. No, whole fat cow’s milk. No, soy. No, Ripple?

Say something. Tone down. YOLO.

Sell it all and travel. Homeschool. Pack up the kids and teach as you visit new places and people and

What’s all this for? I mean, really. Why?

The tummy, it bulges. The wrinkles appear. The kids hate their schooling and the piles don’t clear. Cancer’s present with kale and we say things that hurt. We upsize and downsize, we flip and convert.

And still. Emptiness.

Chasing.

Something Else.

Rapidly our hearts beat.

Open phone. Click app. Scroll down. Scroll up. Refresh. Close app. Open app…

“Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee.”

“…for Thyself.”

“…restless…”

“…find..”

“…rest in Thee.”

That hole it will haunt. That tummy will despair. The kids will overwhelm and the health doesn’t care. We’ll keep chasing and filling all the hopes, many dreams. Until in the Messiah our desperate searches

Cease.

 

 

That’s why. All this. Yes, now I can see.

Hope and meaning and purpose.

Sin…but forgiveness. Wrath…but redemption.

For HIS glory. Because of His great love.

Light has come to the darkness! Great joy to despair! Order to chaos. Breathe in the air of

Peace.

 

---

Philippians 3:8

“Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.” (ESV)

Worth a Shot

It’s been several years now I just haven’t felt well. I get sick easily, have frequent kidney infections that progress rapidly, bouts of fatigue and general sluggishness. But I have a full, wonderful life. I’ve got four kids brimming with passion that I have the opportunity to teach and mother and train and love on. I have a caring husband and extended family and a beautifully healthy church family. I’ve been able to keep plugging along by God’s grace and the help of my people. But I want to feel well.

I’ve been to fabulous chiropractors that have helped my nerve pain and numbness and tingling sensations. I’ve seen excellent physicians who assess my blood work and give me options of prescription meds or a combination of herbs and supplements. I’ve been to naturopaths who feel they have the solution to the root of my issues. I’ve cut out this and that and added in loads of still another. And while I sense I’ve overcome a great many maladies through chiropractic care, antibiotics, and too many supplements to name, I’m still struggling.

My blood work isn’t great, and I’m currently pushing through the pain of another kidney infection. It could always be so much worse. And I’m definitely the “suck it up and drink more water” mom. But I do want to take care of this vessel I’ve been gifted. I want to sleep well and have the energy to do what I’ve been called to do well. With passion and vigor and life. I want to do all I can to get better if it’s God’s will.

Guys, I’m 33, an ideal weight and eat quite well comparatively. But it’s just not cutting it.

I noticed a few weeks ago a book a dear friend had been reading. The title was enough to have a chuckle over. I inquired more about it when we visited her home. She said it was written by a physician, backed by numerous clinical studies, and advocated for a plant-based diet in order to prevent and reverse disease: auto-immune, muscular, heart, cancer, hypertension, liver, infections, brain. I was intrigued.

So, to the library I went.

I’ve been loosely following a protocol the past few months to try and regulate my hormones and allow my body to get more protein and healthy fat. I felt so much better on it. Yet, my blood work showed high cholesterol, liver and kidney issues, and consistent low white blood count. Perhaps this regimen is not for me.

So, as of last week, I’m giving a mostly-plant-based diet a try. At least reducing the amount of meat and dairy and eggs I’ve been eating and seeking to incorporate multiple servings of fruits and vegetables as well as whole grains and legumes, seeds, and nuts. Worth a shot, eh? I’m leaving behind a high-meat, high-dairy, high-egg routine of two meals a day and doing a total 180. It’s quite a shift for our whole family, and I’m not sure what it will actually look like, especially with my husband’s love of meat and the kids’ food allergies. And I reeeeeaaaally don’t prefer beans. But I truly feel like I’ve got to do something. And this seems like the most sustainable option for the time being.

Dr. Greger mentions in his book how our life expectancy has increased, but many of the final years of life are spent in miserable pain or cognitive decline or hooked up to machines. I want to thrive now and for the years to come. So, here’s to another option. A healthier option. A sustainable option. Here’s to taking care of this temporary vessel for the glory of God in the best way I know how.

 

 

Quiet Spaces

I’ve been soaking up all the Clarkson goodness I can lately. Listening to “The Lifegiving Parent” on audio book and completing “The Lifegiving Home” in actual type and page format. Trying to get some guidance on how to build our home culture in this season of parenting.

The chaos is in full swing with our summer break almost complete, and I’ve felt the need to have intentional quiet time for my kids. And, especially, for me. We have a mix of introverts and extroverts, but we all tire of one another at some point. The Clarksons recommend having a small space in our homes that each kid can call their own. A place of retreat and personalization. A solace in the midst of the crazy pace of large family life. 

We already have a natural rhythm of “rest time” in the afternoon once lunch is completed. But I’m so tired of screens, guys. Tired of the filth that’s out there. Tired of the fights over which games are wholesome, which shows are worthy of watching. It’s absolutely wearing to keep the cheap pleasures out of our home–a place I so want to be a balm, a refuge, a refreshment.

So, based on the recommendations of the Clarksons, I’ve decided to set aside an hour of our every day for quiet. Each kid has chosen a corner–a space where they can read, rest, write, draw or create. Today we went shopping for their baskets and their choices of fillings. They had a budget, and with a bit of guidance, they picked out whatever they desired.

It was such a joy to see them make their lists and begin to make selections at the store. Blankets, pillows, markers, puzzles, glitter glue, pens, paper, and envelopes.

When we arrived home, they excitedly opened their goodies and began organizing their baskets. Once completed, they anxiously walked to their spaces, and quiet time commenced.

Guys, my kids are crazy full of energy. I had a feeling I would be spending my hour gently coercing each child back to their corners. And while that did happen a bit, they truly soaked up this time! (And I did tell them surprises would appear periodically in the boxes of those who stayed in their spaces). Some made necklaces, others drew pictures, some rested, and others read their library books. I’m sure tomorrow may look different. That’s how training works, right? Ups and downs and bumps along the way. But, oh, how I pray making this a part of our cycle will help create a space of calm and creativity and refreshment for each of our souls.

 

 

 

---

Your turn! Is it tough for your family to rest? How have you been intentional about creating calm in your daily schedule?

You Chose To Homeschool. Now What?

More and more families in our circle are choosing to homeschool. Woohoo! But with all the excitement comes a lot of, where in the world do we even begin? So many methods, so many great curriculum options, so many co-ops, so very many gurus to follow.

I have not been at this very long, but I’ve learned a few things along the way as I’ve sought to teach our four young kids. Here are some important places to start:

1. Sit down and write out your vision for homeschooling. Why did you choose to do this? What do you hope to gain? List out several thoughts, then form them into one cohesive sentence. If you work out of a single purpose, you are much less likely to lose your mind on the hard days.
2. Pick up Cathy Duffy’s 102 Top Picks for Homeschool Curriculum. Start by taking the test to determine what style of homeschooling might be best for your teaching style and your family’s learning style. Browse her recommendations to get an idea of what’s out there.
3. DON’T PURCHASE ALL YOUR CURRICULUM AT ONCE YOUR FIRST YEAR. Borrow from friends. Check out some options from the library. Try out various methods and curriculum to get a feel of what works best for you. No two families are the same. You don’t want to buy $300 worth of books only to realize it just doesn’t work for you.
4. Decide how many weeks you want to school and how often you’ll take breaks. Many families plan for 36 weeks of schooling. Some follow public school guidelines for time off, some choose to school for six weeks, then break for one, others school through the year taking short breaks throughout. Look at a calendar, plan out which weeks you’ll focus on schooling, which weeks you’ll take off, and plan to have some flexibility. This allows for illness, spontaneity and unforeseen events.
5. Rather than having set educational goals, first work on cultivating a love for learning. These are sweet times. These first months set the tone for the rest of your homeschool experience. Visit museums. Invite interesting people into your home. Travel your state. Explore nature. Study the stars. Read aloud well-written stories, even to your teenagers, as you savor homemade cookies and steamy cups of tea. Enjoy your family and set the stage for a loving and welcoming learning environment in your home.
6. Give yourself heaps of grace. You’re going to feel like you’re failing your kids, you’re not doing enough, you need more money to buy more and better curriculum, etc. Go back to your vision statement. Pray. Ask God to guide you as you seek to live out His will in your home. Homeschooling is not public school at home. It’s going to look different. And that’s okay!

You’ve got this, mom and dad! I’d love to hear from you and help you along the way. You’re not alone on this educational journey!

My Days Are Numbered

Yours are, too, although we don’t know the exact number. No, you may not have a formal diagnosis. You may only now be reaching adulthood. But your time here is limited. Short.

If I make it to 80, I have 2,444 weeks left. That’s it, folks.

Lately it seems as if God is trying to get my heart and my mind around this truth. I’m not sure why, exactly. If He’s preparing me for my own end or motivating me to live in boldness and obedience. Regardless, I want to hear and respond.

The Repeated Exhortation

I was listening to “The Lifegiving Parent” audiobook when I was first reminded of it. “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Clay Clarkson uses this Psalm to explain the importance of teaching our kids how to number their days by making a plan each year, even the youngest in the family. Helping them to see that time goes by quickly and how vital it is that we use the moments God gives us wisely. The best way we can train our children in this is by living out this truth ourselves and by teaching our children to intentionally map out how they will spend their days–setting goals in all areas of their lives.

And just a few days following, I was preparing our study of Ephesians, and I came to chapter five: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore, do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” Redeeming the time. Buying it back. Understanding God’s will and living in obedience to it. Christ came, lived a sinless life, died a sinner’s death upon a cross, and rose again–defeating death! So if we confess our sin and believe in Him, we have the opportunity, the blessed choice, to use our every breath for the glory of His name. Meaning. Purpose. A legacy worth leaving.

Acquaintances facing their last days, family members aging, my little babies becoming preteens, cancer and car accidents and heart failure and meningitis. I’m feeling the brevity of our time here. Yet, it’s not fear taking over. I know God is good and that I will spend an eternity basking in His glory and provision. But I do have this sense that I’ve got to be more intentional about my days, our days.

What Would You Do?

How might you live if you knew today was your last? This is a quite overused question, but when it’s coupled with an overwhelming sense of the validity of the possibility, I wonder how it might prompt us to live?

Because, I don’t know about you, but I’d do a whole lot less complaining and whole lot more speaking thankfulness. A lot more cuddling and a lot less sighing at another human touching me. I’d leave my phone in the other room and look my people in the eye as they ask me for help and excitedly tell me about the wildlife they encountered in our backyard. I would unashamedly declare to my neighbors and my waiter and my high school friends how Christ has set me free from sin and how desperately I want them to know that new life. I’d say hello to the person behind me in line and ask them how they’re really doing. I’d knock on my neighbor’s door and invite them over for dinner, no matter what my home looked like or what food I had in the fridge. I’d call that friend who hurt me and ask forgiveness for holding onto bitterness for so long.

I wonder what choices and changes you would make?

I’m sure you could speak with any parent of adults or teens, and they’d tell you how fast it all goes. So if you’re in the throws of parenting young children like me, how will you train your kids to make the best use of their days? They won’t be in our care for long. We must equip them to eventually lay out a roadmap for themselves and to pursue wisdom through knowing God more and joyfully obeying His will for their lives.

Hey friend, today could be your last. Either way, all our days are numbered. I hope you sense the weight of that today. And that, rather than prompting fear and desperation, it leads you to choose wisely what you fill your minutes with. To examine what kind of legacy you will leave behind. And to rightly assess those things that matter for eternity.