Is It the Real Jesus or Fake Jesus?

Jesus enters Jerusalem with a bang.  After riding in on a donkey, did he keep a low profile and fly under the radar?  Not exactly.

Based on the gospel accounts, by Tuesday, Jesus was causing a scene in the heart of Jerusalem – in none other than the temple courts.

In fact, Jesus got angry, knocked over a few tables, and even disturbed the peace.

And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves. – Matthew 21:12-13

Ouch!  So much for not making waves.  Why was Jesus so angry?  Some would say that he was fed up with the religious system – a system that had become broken and corrupt.  A system that was charging the poor for “acceptable” temple sacrifices.  A system where the religious leaders made the rules and lined their own pockets.  A system where outward appearances had become more important than inward character. 

Sometimes I ask myself if our religious systems portray the real Jesus.

I'll never forget the first time I watched our church’s passion play with my then 3-year-old daughter, Abby.  She was completely taken with Jesus.  And she kept asking, Is that the real Jesus or the fake Jesus?

It’s a good question.  I think Jesus asked the same question when he looked at the religious people of his day.  Were they real or fake?  Did they act religious on the outside, but on the inside, were they filled with selfishness and greed?

When we look at our own Christian institutions today, do we find piety for the sake of piety --  a set of outward “rules” and an obsession with appearances (while the inside of the cup is full of hypocrisy and greed)? 

Or, do we see something that looks more like Jesus – humility, grace, and generosity to those in need?

In Abby’s words, do we look like the real Jesus or the fake Jesus?

Let's Get Ready For Holy Week!

The rest of this week, I plan to blog about Jesus. For those of you who read the blog and don’t share my faith, I’ll likely get back to more light-hearted rants next week. But this week – the final week of Jesus’ life on earth -- I just can’t help myself.

This week, it’s all about Jesus.

I’m part of a church that really knows how to celebrate Easter. We fast during Lent, put on passion plays, light candles, and roll out the red carpet on Easter Sunday. My kids are so excited they can hardly contain themselves. Sure, they love the candy and Easter eggs, but they know that Easter is about something much more important -- an eternal sacrifice and a risen Lord. (Besides, my girls are pretty freaked out by the Easter Bunny – just like Tooth Ferry Terror.)

For me, it’s not really about the ritual of Easter. It never has been. It’s a celebration of a person. It’s about mourning the loss of your best friend, only to find out that he’s not only alive – he’s right here in your midst.

And he laid his life down for you so you can be by his side for all eternity.

This week is the most important week in Christian history. Yesterday, we celebrated Palm Sunday. Jesus leaves Bethany (where he has just raised Lazarus from the dead), stops in a little village to pick up a donkey that had never been riden before, and enters Jerusalem.   This is the only time Jesus rides on an animal during his public ministry.  Up until now, he walked everywhere (pretty interesting, huh?).

He must be up to something.

The road from Bethany to Jerusalem is only about two miles, yet this final week of Jesus’ life takes up more space than all the other events of the four New Testament gospels (combined). The plot thickens, Jesus enters Jerusalem to face his accusers, and ultimately faces death.

Will you join me on the journey?

What’s Worse In Restaurants – Small Children or Mean Women?

Let’s face it, loud obnoxious children can ruin a meal.  Your meal.   Which is why we try to take our kids to “family friendly” restaurants. 

On a recent family vacation, my husband and I walked into a poolside grill (highly rated by Trip Advisor) and noticed a sign that read:

“Unattended children will be given free espresso and a puppy.”

Bingo.  Just our kind of place.  Good food and kid friendly.  We crowded around a small table with our three kids and ordered drinks.

Then I saw her.

Evil Eye Woman who obviously can’t stand children. 

I’m used to a few stares, some eye rolling, even a glare or two.  But this was different.  If looks could kill, we’d all be dead.

I quickly concluded several things about Evil Eye Woman.  First, it wasn’t just my kids she didn’t like.  She didn’t like kids period.  She didn’t like people period.  She’s just one of those people who is just plain miserable.

I know, I shouldn’t judge Evil Eye Woman.  But she was really starting to get under my skin.  When my 7-year-old daughter, Anna, scooted her chair and almost bumped into her, Evil Eye Woman even snarled.  At my lovely daughter!

How could I avoid an encounter?  I thought through the possibilities of what I might say. 

• “What’s your problem lady, this is a kid-friendly restaurant, if you don’t like it, leave!”
• “I noticed that you seem pretty miserable, did you know that God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life?”
• “Excuse me, you seem pretty uncomfortable sitting by my children, would you mind if I asked the waitress to put you at a new table?”

None of these options seemed quite right.  Then, it dawned on me.  She didn’t have to ruin my meal.  I could have the last word.

I turned to my husband and said, “Here’s the good news about dinner.  This woman has inspired me to write a blog!”

He just rolled his eyes.  

Joy (Even On A Monday)

I was driving home from work, sitting in annoying traffic, when I couldn’t help but notice the guy in front of me.

He was jamming.

So I looked closer.  Who was this mad man behind me with the shaking car?  He looked middle aged (even balding from behind).  He was wearing a suit and glasses.  And he was singing at the top of his lungs, dancing in seated position.

Mind you, this was a Monday, not a Friday.  The sun wasn’t shining.  The stock market wasn’t soaring.  Traffic wasn’t moving.

But he was joyful about something.  I thought about the possible options:

1)  He had a really good day at work;
2)  He had a really bad day at work and he was trying to forget about it;
3)  He just quit his job;
4)  He’s losing his mind;
5)  He’s a joyful person.

I wanted to get out of my car and ask him, but the traffic started moving again.  So I’ll never know.

I turned up the radio and started to sing.

********
Be joyful always; pray continuously; in everything give thanks.  Even on a Monday.

Why I Don’t Do Social Media Guilt

If you’ve hung around this blog at all, you know that I’m a big fan of grace, not guilt.

Which is why I’ve decided to say NO to social media guilt.

There are already too many things in this life to feel guilty about.

When it comes to blogging, I never have time to read all the posts I want to read.  And I never have time to comment on all the posts I do read. I constantly neglect my Facebook friends.  And I forget to thank my fellow Tweeters for mentions and re-Tweets.

But I don’t lie awake at night worrying about it.

Now I might lie awake worrying about other things --  like the bad mommy complex, how my kids are doing in school, a deadline at work, or forgetting to send cards to people who are sick – but social media worries are near the bottom of the list (right behind forgetting to discard the expired milk in the frig). 

Who needs another guilt trip?

Not me.

Do you need to let go of some blogging (or other) guilt?

Guilt drains.

Grace fills.

When Boys Pray

Nick’s 10th birthday party was in full swing when when a minor crisis ensued.  In the midst of an intense dart gun game that spanned half the neighborhood, Nick’s friend Dillon lost his glasses.  I could see the panic on his face.

“These glasses cost $300!  My mom is going to kill me.  They fell right out of my pocket.”

The game stopped.  The party stopped.  And we looked everywhere.

Doug and I helped the boys comb the nearby yards inch by inch.  We looked in the street.  In the bushes.  Even in Dillon’s pocket.  But the glasses were no where to be found.

I could feel God nudging me. [Note to readers:  I did not hear God speak out loud.  There have been only a handful of times in my life when I think he is speaking to my heart.  This was one of them.  I am not crazy.]

God:  Susan, gather these boys together and pray out loud.  Let them experience the power of prayer.  Give faith a chance.

Susan:  [Intentionally ignores God.]

God:  Susan, I’m talking to you. 

Susan:  I hear you.  But what if we don’t find them.  Besides, I don’t even know some of these boys.  I’m going to embarrass Nick and his friends are going to think his mom is a whack job.

[God is silent, and Susan’s heart continues to burn.]

Susan:  Ok God, you win.  But don’t blame me if we don’t find these glasses.

Before I could change my mind I blurted out, “Ok boys, gather around.  We’re going to find these glasses.  For those of you who are comfortable, I want you to agree with me in prayer.  Watch and see what God can do.”

[Susan: Ok God, there’s no turning back now.  And why did you let me add that last line in?  I sound like a religious fanatic!]

A couple of boys bowed their heads.  A few snickered.  One of them said under his breath, “I can’t believe we are doing this.”

I continued rather loudly. After all, since I had pulled the trigger, I might as well go for the gusto. “God, we don’t know where these glasses are.  We’ve looked and we can’t find them.  You know where they are God.  Open our eyes.  Show us.  In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”

Less than 30 seconds passed when Nick’s cousin Peter shouted out, “I found them.  The glasses are right here!”

I watched Dillon smile.  Another boy exclaimed, “It’s a miracle!”

I bet God smiled even bigger.

What Is A Son?

[Nick, my firstborn, turns 10 today.  My heart is full and my hands are lifted.  I’m so grateful to be his mother.]



A Son is Joy.  He keeps my glass full.  He brings a smile to my face.  His spark quickly changes my mood, showing me the goodness in the moment and the divine on the ordinary.


A Son is Laughter.  He has that charming yet ridiculous boyish sense of humor.  He wears mirrored glasses and a shower cap in the airport.  Just for fun.  He tells silly jokes I will never fully understand.  But I still laugh.  Hard.


A Son is Pain.  I hurt when he hurts.  I watch him learn lessons and I want to intervene.  But I don’t.  I hold back, knowing that God is in control.  Not me.  I watch him grow and mature and my heart aches, knowing that I must let go.  Again and again.


A Son is a Mirror.  When I look at him, I see my strengths. And my weaknesses. I see the possibilities – the hopes and the dreams.  He brings out the best in me, and sometimes the worst.  I can’t help but stare.  I don’t look away.


A Son is a Companion.  He’s my back-seat driver, my biggest critic, and my biggest fan.  He invites me to build a sand castle.  I can't say no, even though I hate getting my hands dirty.  He’s my night owl who stays up with me late and asks me tough questions about life and faith.  He pours out his heart.  I am his confidant, and I reciprocate his trust.  


A Son is a Gift.  He has been entrusted to me for a time.  I want to give him my best, and I don’t want to screw up this privilege called motherhood.  He is a gift from God.  He is pure grace, and through my son I experience the deepest love of the Father.  

For the last 10 years, I have humbly held my son.  But he is getting too big to hold.  So instead I walk beside him and trust that the Father will hold us both.

Happy Birthday, my son. 

The Ride Home From Vacation

The ride home from vacation is always a drag.  In fact, it’s not just the ride home.  It’s that pit in my stomach that starts as the week comes to a close.  I think about reentering reality and it paralyzes my thoughts, robbing me of the enjoyment of the moment.

It will be over soon.  Why does it have to go so fast?

I sat on the airplane, worrying about the week ahead.

How am I going to get through all my emails before Monday morning? 

I need to get on top of the kids’ homework this week.

Don’t forget about the kids’ make-up tennis lessons.

There is nothing in the refrigerator.

Did I miss the deadline to register for camp this summer?

How am I going to find the time to train for this half marathon?  Should I drop out?

My mind continued to wander.

Then, unexpectedly, after some initial conversation, the guy sitting next to me handed me a copy of God Calling, a devotional I’ve intended to read for quite some time.

“Take it,” he said. 

So I began to read.  Right there.  Right then.

March 26

“What of a man walking through a glorious glade who fretted because ahead there lay a river and he might not be able to cross it, when all the time, that river was spanned by a bridge.”

Ah, yes, the bridge.  I’m so worried about the river that sometimes I don’t see the bridge.  Or the boat.  Or the life jacket. 

There’s nothing worse than fretting over what we don’t know, can’t see, and can’t control.   Predictions and possibilities are not reality.  Reality is right here.  Right now.  In this very moment God has given me. 
Would I reenter my daily routine with grace and peace or with stress and worry?

*************

I’m linking up (a bit late) today with Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday and Playdates With God.   It's good to be back.

Grace and peace to you, my friends.

This Blogger Is On Vacation!

A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in. ~Robert Orben

See you on March 28~!

Does Your Life (or Blog) Need a Facelift?

Spring is just around the corner.  Which is why I decided I need a face lift.

It’s not what you’re thinking.  (Ok, maybe I am a bit vain, but I’m not getting plastic surgery any time soon.)

I’m talking about a face lift for my blog!

Why does a face lift make me “feel” better?  After all, it’s the same blog.  The same content.  The same message.

But it still feels new. 

It’s like trying a new recipe. Putting on a new dress.  Drinking a fresh cup of coffee.

Remember what it felt like to get a new pair of shoes as a kid?  You could run faster and jump higher.  And my own children are no different.  Sure, they may be materialistic (like the rest of America) but I also believe something else is going on inside of them.  Something deeper.

I am convinced there is a God-given desire inside of all of us that wants to be made new. 

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Rev 21:5)

And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart. (Ezekiel 36:26 NLT)

Can you feel it? 

It’s that tug inside our hearts that tells us there is something more. Something beautiful.  Even something new. 

Maybe it’s time for a face lift.

Are You Living For A List (Or Love!)?

 

Which commandment is most important?  That’s what the religious leaders asked Jesus over 2000 years ago.

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”  (Mark 12:28)

This Sunday, Pastor Eric led us through Jesus’ answer to this question.

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12-29-31)

Love God and love your neighbor.  It sounds so simple.  So why is it so difficult?

*********

Two thousand years later.  I’m still asking the same question.  Except it sounds a bit different in my modern day, complicated world.

I can’t do it all God, so you’re just going to have to help me prioritize.  What’s most important?

• Being faithful to my spouse and children?
• Being honest in my daily work?
• Serving the poor and disadvantaged?
• Giving my money (or my time)?
• Taking time to rest and worship?

I get exhausted just thinking about keeping all the “commandments,” knowing that most days I fall far short.  Which is why I need to remind myself -- it’s not about a list.   It’s not about a hierarchy of do’s and don’ts.

It’s about love.

A love that gets me out of bed in the morning.  A love that fills my empty heart during quiet moments.  A love that gives me peace as I lay my head to rest, not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

I’d rather live for love than a list.  Lists weight us down.  Love fills us up.

How about you?

Winners For The Christian Mama's Guide!

Guess who won a copy of The Christian Mama's Guide To Having A Baby?

(Drum roll please)

The winners are.........

Laura Boggess and Amy Sullivan. 

Congratulations ladies!  I'll be in touch to get your mailing addresses.  Have a good weekend!

Do Online Parents Ignore Their Chilldren?

I was sitting next to a mom in a waiting room recently, watching her ignore her 2-year-old child. 

Like me, she was waiting for her older children to finish up their lessons.  Like me, she had brought her Ipad.  And like me, she probably hates to waste time sitting around and doing “nothing.” 

The two-year-old asked her for some water.  She replied (without looking up), “Wait until after the lessons.”  Her daughter continued to ask, and the mother continued to ignore, fixated on the screen in front of her.

Next, the daughter asked to go to the bathroom.  After rolling her eyes and huffing and puffing, the mother finally put down her Ipad and escorted her daughter to the bathroom.

She was back in two minutes.  Online again.

When her older son (who looked about 5 years old) was finished with his lesson, the mother barely looked up.  He started to help himself to a tray of donuts on the table next to us, when she snapped.

“Don’t touch those.  Sometimes, I can’t believe you!  I’m tired of you not listening!”

She announced they were leaving, dragging him out by the hood of his coat.  The 2-year-old followed behind.

I started to feel badly for these children.  I even started to judge their mother.  Some parents are so obsessed with themselves.  How can a mother ignore her own children and act like they are a complete bother?

Then I looked down at my Ipad. 

How many times have I said to my kids, “Not, now, wait until I finish this email?” Or how many times have I nodded my head and pretended to listen when my eyes (and my attention) are focused on a screen in front of me?

Yesterday, I read a thoughtful post from Michelle DeRusha who is giving up multi-tasking for Lent!  No, I’m no ready to go there yet.  But it did make me wonder.

Does anyone really get my undivided attention these days?

The Christian Mama’s Guide To Having A Baby: Book Review and Give-Away!

Today, on Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday I’ve decided to give away (and review) a newly released book.  The Christian Mama’s Guide To Having A Baby, by Erin MacPherson.



What book would you give an expectant mother?  Many of us have found books like What to Expect When You’re Expecting useful, but have you ever looked for other alternatives -- like a practical, witty guide for expectant mothers, from a Christian perspective?

The Christian Mama’s Guide may be exactly what you’re looking for.

What’s so special about this book?

Well, to start, MacPherson's writing is tender, blunt, and hilarious.  She obviously reads the minds of expectant mothers!  The Christian Mama's Guide is full of practical advice, humor, and spiritual insight.  MacPherson squarely tackles the questions that everyone is afraid to ask --especially Christians -- ranging from sex, intimacy, exercise, and alcohol. 

The Christian Mama's Guide is decisive yet not dogmatic.  MacPherson provides a much-needed voice for today's expectant mother who longs to follow God in a fast-paced and complex world -- a mother who is savvy, excited, and often scared to death!  She comforts expectant mothers with the voice of a "big sister" that has gone before them. 

I wish this book existed 10 years ago when I was expecting my first born.  While there is no lack of information for expectant mothers, there is clearly a lack of spiritual mentoring -- MacPherson takes an important step to bridge the mentoring gap for new mothers.

So, don’t you want a copy of this book -- for a friend, a co-worker, or even for yourself? 
Just post a comment before Friday at 5:00 EST.  I’ll be drawing two winners for a give-away!

Should Kids Engage In Social Media?

There’s much discussion over Michelle Obama’s decision not to let her daughters on Facebook.

And she’s not the only parent wrestling with this decision.  Well before our children will encounter other milestones – like driving, dating, and staying out late with friends -- we have to make some serious decisions about their use of technology and the internet.

I for one believe these are difficult decisions.  Writers like Amy Sullivan remind us our teens are spending almost 8 hours a day online!   But social media isn’t all bad for our youth. For example, social media has actually engaged Generation Y in politics (a good thing, in my opinion). 

But my kids are still too young to take the plunge.

My son, Nick, is almost 10, and he’s already bugging me for an email account.  I’m just not ready to go there.  (And, no, he doesn’t have his own cell phone yet.)  Yet other parents tell me that mobile phones help them communicate with their kids and even track them with GPS! 

Right now, I just tell Nick that we’ll revisit the issue when he’s a bit older.  I also give him access to my personal email account to communicate with out-of-town family members and friends. And he’s known to read my blog and hang over my shoulder when I’m Tweeting. By some parents’ standards, I’m already giving him too much access to the complicated world of social media.

So what’s a parent to do?  I’ve found that most parents fall into some combination of the following three categories.

1)  Don’t ask don’t tell. 

Some parents simply don’t want to know.

Kids will be kids.  There’s nothing I can do to, so why bother to get involved. 

Others would rather engage in denial.

My kids will never abuse technology.  They know better than that!

These parents shudder to find out – after the fact – that their daughter has been posting inappropriate photos on MySpace or their minor son has an online (older) girlfriend.

2)  Social media is the Devil.

Other parents simply ban social media all together.  They cut off access at home.  They spend money on blocking devices. They caution their kids about the dangers of the online world.  Even though the minimum age for Facebook is 13 years old, they insist that their children are 18 (or older) before maintaining any type of internet profile. 

While these parents appear extreme, the rest of us can understand their fears, particularly with the threat of child pornography and unhealthy online relationships.

3)  Get involved and stay involved. 

Still other parents – like me – plan to strike a balance.  We’re not exactly pushing our kids to join start Tweeting at age 13 (I’m not sure any 13-year-old has the judgment for Twitter -- some days I’m not even sure I do!) but we’re going to expose our kids to the online world on our terms, which means we have to get involved.

The parents I know who successfully strike this balance tend to share passwords (and friends) with their kids, implement privacy settings, and visit their children’s social media sites at least once a day. 

There are no easy answers. And, as a parent, I know I need to stop worrying about what everyone else is doing and try to do what’s best for my family.  (And, if I were in Michelle Obama’s shoes, I don’t think I’d let my daughters on Facebook either!)

What’s your social media strategy for your children?

Are You Grumpy Today?

I was sitting in church when the pastor started out with a question:

“Are you grumpy today?”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  It had been one of those mornings.

I got up early to make waffles and by 9:00 a.m. the kitchen looked like a tornado had swept through it.  Abby got syrup all over her new dress. Nick forgot to roll up his sleeves.  And Anna had sticky mouth.  I finally cleaned up the kitchen – and the kids -- and kicked on the dishwasher.  But it wouldn’t start.

This is the third time we’ve had to get this stupid dishwasher fixed this year.  We should have bought the extended warranty.

The dishwasher would have to wait.  I loaded the kids in the car – we were already running late – and I turned the ignition.  Dead battery.  After a quick jump, we’d be lucky to get to church before the sermon started.

Yes, I was grumpy all right.  I had my grumpy pants on, and I wasn’t about to take them off.  Not even for church. 

Yet in the midst of my pity party, I could hear God calling.  Very softly.  But very directly.

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.  (I Thes 5: 16-18 NLT)

I think he might be talking to me!

*******

Is it Friday yet?  Is anyone else grumpy?

The Devil Is In the Details!

 
I’m not a stickler for details.  I’m your big-picture girl.  It’s all about the ideas.  (And I’ve got some pretty big ideas.)  Someone else can be in charge of the minutia.

Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re talking about an inborn personality trait.  Let’s face it, there are some characteristics we are just born with.

A long time ago, I learned that there are two kinds of people.  Lumpers and Splitters.

In psychological terms, Lumpers see similarities instead of differences – we “lump” our thoughts together.  Lumpers focus on the overall goal and roll over the details. We assign categories in our brains broadly.
 
Not so for Splitters.  Splitters see differences.  And they assign new categories in their brains based on these differences, which means they tend to spot important issues but sometimes go off on tangents.  And we need both kinds of people to make our workplaces (and our homes) thrive. 

I’m a Lumper, which is good news and bad news. 

I always like to give the good news first:

• I don’t stress over the details. 
• I can usually see the big picture.
• I don’t mind delegating the little stuff.
• I focus on getting it done, it doesn’t have to be perfect!

Here’s the bad news.

• Sometimes, I move too fast.
• I get impatient with splitters.
• Missing details can result in mistakes.
• Even though I don’t mind delegating, my “ideas” are usually pretty darn specific (and I expect others to read my mind since I don’t labor over details).

A former boss once scolded me, “Susan, the Devil is in the details!”

I felt like shouting back to her, “No, the Devil is the details!”

Besides, that’s what Splitters are for.  (Have I mentioned that I am married to a Splitter?)

Do Small Children Bug You In Church?

It’s really hard to focus during the sermon when my four-year-old Abby is hanging on me, dropping crayons, or complaining that she wants a drink of water.  How are parents of young children supposed to engage in worship?  And what about the people sitting next to us?

Today, I’m linking up with Michelle DeRusha at Graceful for “Hear It On Sunday, Use it On Monday.”
I was going to link up last Monday for the kick-off, but I got a little distracted during the sermon, and I couldn’t pull my thoughts together for a blog post. It was one of those weeks where Mom Abby was particularly impatient. She kept getting out of her seat to go to the bathroom (she claimed she had a stomach ache) and when the pastor said “Amen” and the church was stone quiet, she blurted out rather loudly, “Is it over yet?”

Why do we drag her to church?  Why make a 4-year-old sit through a boring worship service when her older siblings are in Sunday School?   

To start, I for one believe that small children benefit from worship.  Abby knew the Lord’s Prayer before her ABC’s, and she bellows her words loudly and claps her hands and sways her hips to the music. I’ve been in some churches where this wouldn’t be acceptable, but our church in infested with children.  Lots of them.  (Heck, my Pastor Eric has 5 little ones of his own!)  Besides, we usually sit toward the back.

So why isn’t she in the 4-year-old Sunday School class that meets during worship?  The answer is simple.  Yours truly is her Sunday School teacher at the next service, so after worship we’re off to Sunday School.  Together.

What did I learn from the sermon this week?  Lots.  So much that I’ll have to save it for another post.  Instead of worrying about Abby, I adjusted my attitude and expectations.  I decided that for this season of my life, I’m going to enjoy the warmth of a sweaty 4-year-old on my lap who has to go to the bathroom.  And when she prays the Lord’s Prayer at the top of her lungs, I’m going to savor every word. The next time she gets antsy, I might even let her out early to get a drink.

Now, I’m headed over to Graceful.  For those of you who haven’t met Michelle DeRusha, she’s a rocking (not shopping) mom who works at NPR, has her own newspaper column, and blogs like an angel.  And she’s not buying herself clothes for a year!  Sounds like someone I can learn from!  (She’s also newly represented by the extraordinary Rachelle Gardner, and I really can’t wait to read Michelle’s memoir once it’s in print.)

Does Exercise Make You A Better Mom?

I wanted to get up early and exercise, but I hit the snooze button instead.  I had already stayed up too late the night before pounding on my laptop – it was time to bask in a few moments of extra sleep.  After all, with all the demands of work, home, and everything in between, who has time to exercise?

I just can’t add one more thing to my schedule.  It will have to wait until next month or even next year.


But wait a minute.  Before I throw in the towel and give up, I need to be intentional about this.  Maybe a regular exercise routine will improve both my spiritual and physical state.  Maybe it will even make me a better mom.  After all, research tells us that exercise reduces stress.  In fact, it even puts you in a better mood.  And truth be told, I was a little grouchy this morning.  I even snapped at Anna for putting her shoes on too slowly and I yelled at Nick for leaving his lunch box at school.

I’m the perfect candidate for exercise.  But I’m also too busy.  So, what’s the solution?

For starters, I really hate cookie-cutter answers.  Which is why I never buy books that claim things like “10 secrets to making exercise a priority” or “how to manage your health and your job.”  So if you are looking for a 5-step program with some profound answers, please stop reading.  You just might be disappointed in what I have to say.  (Besides, others have written some useful tips on this subject such as Working Moms and Working Out.)

My advice?

You have to find a solution that works for you. 

For me, it means having a plan – and having accountability.  Which is why I signed up to run my first half-marathon this Spring with my niece.  (Hey, I might not finish, but having a tangible goal is going to get me out of the covers and onto the pavement!)  You’ll probably find a different solution. 

I’m convinced that exercise will make us better moms, dads, spouses, friends, professionals, and even writers. The easy part is talking about it. The hard part is doing it!

Do You Follow Doctor’s Orders?

 
Who knows what’s best for my health?  Me (who has no medical training whatsoever) or, a licensed medical professional?

Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re talking about something we’re bad at.  You guessed it, I’m bad at following doctor’s orders.  Let’s just say I’m a bit stubborn. 

For starters, I hate going to the doctor.  I hate the sight of blood, and most medication makes me vomit.  One of the reasons I respect those who choose the medical profession?  I could never do it.

And I do mean never.

For the record, hospitals creep me out.  They’re too sterile.  Too lifeless.  Too depressing.  Which is why I tried to break out early when I had my third-born, Abby.  (The nurse was ready to call security.)  Which is why I never finish my prescription medicine.  (Who needs drugs when you’re feeling better?)  Which is why I tend to self-diagnose every aliment on the internet.  (Who needs the hassle of an office visit when you have WebMD?)

I also can’t stand waiting rooms.  The doctors are always running late, and someone always tries to make me turn off my cell phone.  Or, worse – I’m forced to stop tweeting because some nurse thinks the internet connection will interfere with the x-ray machine.

But, wait.  Before you think I’m a terrible mother, you should know one thing.  When it comes to my children, I usually break my own rules.  I rush my kids to the doctor’s office for every sniffle, we finish all the medicine, and I even turn off my cell phone in the waiting room.  (Ok, not always, but I definitely turn it off if there’s an x-ray machine in plain view.)

I’m even known to follow doctor’s orders.  Unless of course my motherly instincts are telling me to instead follow my gut. 

Didn’t God give us instincts for a reason? 

The Work Of A Lawyer

I’ll never forget how hard it was to wait. Those last two days and two nights seemed like an eternity.
What could be taking the jury so long? Hadn’t we put on a solid defense? Was it really that close? And what kind of system puts an important dispute in the hands of eight complete strangers?

I was starting to second-guess myself.

[Join me at The High Calling to continue]

Why I'm Hooked On Grace

If you’re reading this, I am assuming a couple of things about you.  You’re one of those people who is pushing yourself toward something.  Career. Family. Spiritual Growth. Relationships.

And, if you’re like me, you don’t want to settle.  You don’t want to wake up in 20 years and say, “Geez, that was a big waste of time!”

We only get one shot at this life, don’t we?

This intense pressure – to take the best shot at life that we can – may drive us to action.  It just might drive us to step out of our comfort zones, to change, and to grow.

But it can also paralyze us.

After all, who wants to fail?  Isn’t it just easier to settle?  And if you don’t try, maybe you can protect yourself from disappointment.

I was recently reading a thoughtful post by David Rupert titled “Why Do We Stay in Bad Jobs?”  It got me thinking.  Isn’t it fear – and specifically the fear of failure – that holds us back from achieving our true potential?

This is where grace comes in.  You see, I think God already has this whole “fear of failure” thing under control.  Grace means that I don’t have to perform.  I don’t have to have a road map.  And I don’t even have to get it right the first time. 

Someone else got it right for me.  I just have to accept a gift.

I know, this sounds too simplistic.   Some would even argue that grace destroys motivation.  Why try to be the best if you don’t have to?

I don’t know about you, but when someone gives me a gift – especially a gift I don’t deserve – I want to give back.  I want to show that I’m grateful.  I too want to experience the grace of giving.  And when I experience unconditional love – love that isn’t dependant on what I’ve done for you or what you expect from me -- I want to love back. 

Besides, if my identity is secure, I don’t have to worry about proving myself.  I am free to be me – a child of God.  Sure, on the outside, I might look like a mother, a lawyer, a writer.  But all of that could be gone tomorrow.  I’ll be a child of God forever.

Which means I don’t have to worry about whether my writing is good, great or lousy.  Heck, I don’t even need to worry about who is reading this blog (if anyone!) or who is going to post my next Amazon review.  Even typos aren’t the end of the world (ok, they are still really annoying).

Grace has set me free.  And it’s a great feeling.

How about you?

*****

[I’ll be traveling internationally next week and won’t be blogging.  I sure will miss you, but I’m going to give myself some grace, ok?]

Is Good Writing Good Enough?

If you’re passionate about life, good probably isn’t good enough.

You don’t just want to be known as a good parent, a good employee, a good friend.  You want to be great!  Maybe even excellent.

Something inside of us wants to be better than good.  

The problem? 

Some days, we’re not so great.  In fact, we’ve not even good.  We barely get by on average and we hope no one will notice when we really screw up.

I was thinking about this dilemma the other day – not being good enough – in the context of writing. 

Some of us want to be great writers.  But great writing takes time.  It takes talent.  It takes discipline and determination.

The truth is, we can’t be great at everything.  And while I’m far from a perfectionist, some days I just don’t want to settle for good.  Which means I have to make some choices.

Enter the dreaded zero sum game.  Time is finite.  Which means the more I strive to excel in one area, the more I neglect another. 

Do you ever find that good just isn’t good enough?

Is Life A Juggling Act Or a Blender?

I used to think my life was like a juggling act. Truth be told, it’s more like a blender.

Don’t get me wrong, juggling a full-time job, three kids, a spouse, and extended family and friends (not to mention writing and hobbies) involves lots of balls. But sometimes, I run out of hands. I’m even known to drop a few balls in mid air.

Which is where the blender comes in. Forget juggling. I just throw it all into the same bowl and turn on the switch. There are three speeds -- low, medium, and high. I usually run on medium, and I save high for when I really need it – like when I’m up all night with a sick kid and need to be in court the next morning.  But even in moments of complete and utter chaos, I've learned to make a pretty good shake. I’ve even gotten used to the fact that there are no hard and fast lines between my worlds. That’s right, I’m at my best when I abandon the juggling act and just turn on the blender. And I’m not alone.  Integrating life and work is an emerging trend.

In a world of technology, social media, and careers that demand nothing less than a chunk of our flesh, it’s no longer realistic to compartmentalize. The days of “work time” and “personal time” are over.  Every time I try to draw a line in the sand, it backfires. The phone rings when I’m trying to fix dinner and it’s a client emergency. How can I ignore the call?  I’m sitting in an important meeting and my secretary interrupts with a message -- my son is sick at school and needs me. Of course, I run out to get him.

Some would accuse me of lacking balance.

My response?  Balance is out.  Blenders are in.  Why fight it?  I’m not saying it’s right or wrong.  For many of us, it’s just the way it is.  I’m tired of changing my cape every time I switch from home to work and work to home. I’m a passionate mother and a passionate lawyer. Can’t I be both at the same time? Or do I need to take great pains to compartmentalize my life so that no one can ever discover the real me?

Should You Talk About Your Kids At Work?

 
Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re answering a tough question:  should working moms (and dads) talk about their kids at work?

Here’s my short answer:  know your audience.

Even though you think little “Junior” is the greatest thing since sliced bread, not everyone cares.  Some working adults don’t have kids.  Some don’t like kids.  Others are just over them (been there, done that!).  Still others haven’t reached that stage in life – and it scares them just thinking about it.

I was sitting down at dinner with a new client the other evening, and he started moaning about all the screaming kids on his flight.  I quickly looked at his hand – no wedding ring.  (Of course, this doesn’t mean he doesn’t have children of his own, but I tend to watch for the signs.) 

Note to self:  I probably shouldn’t lead the conversation with stories about my darling children.

On the other hand, some of us – especially women – make the mistake of thinking that any reference to our personal lives isn’t “professional.”  So we hide the pictures of our children and act like we’re not mothers – just because we don’t want others to think we have “Mommy Mush Brain.”   This too can be a mistake.  As a lawyer and a mother, some of my closest bonds with both my colleagues and clients have centered around my children.

But I still walk that tight rope. 

How To Be Rude During A Meeting

It used to be that the rudest guy (or gal) in a meeting was the guy who never shuts up.  You know who I’m talking about.  The guy who constantly talks.  And talks.  I’ll call him “Talking Tom.”

He’s only interested in himself.   Talking Tom isn’t interested in anybody else’s ideas.

The eyes usually start rolling during one of his monologues.  Somebody really should tell Talking Tom to shut up.  But nobody does.  So he keeps talking.

It makes for a long meeting.


Talking Tom, however, has a new rival.  Her name? “Texting Terry.”

I think you know her.  She’s always texting and emailing on her mobile device.  She even takes it to the bathroom.  And during a meeting, she just can’t stop.  Reading messages.  Sending messages.  Forwarding messages. 

Like Talking Tom, Texting Terry only appears interested in herself.  She’s too busy texting to listen to others.  Sure, when it’s her turn to speak, she’ll put her device down and become engaged.  But it won’t last.  As soon as her part is “over” she’ll zone out again.

It makes for a frustrating meeting.

Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the rudest of them all – Talking Tom or Texting Terry?

You decide!

Need To Slow Down?

The speed of life is fast.  Incredibly fast.  Maybe too fast.

And one of the reasons I like spending time with my elderly father is because he reminds me to slow down.

What does slowing down look like?  I’m really not sure.  I think it might involve taking a micro-sabbatical.  I also think it might involve drinking more tea with my new hand-made teapot, compliments of hubby. (I didn’t ask for the teapot, so I think it’s his way of telling me I’m drinking too much coffee.)

There’s one thing I do know.  When I’m in a hurry, I tend to step on other people.  I tend to think my time is more important than their time.  I tend to be rude and even a bit self-absorbed.

Shocking, I know.

I was keenly reminded of my need to slow down when I was helping my father set up his new computer.  He was adding a favorite financial website to his desktop, but we couldn’t seem to get his password to work.  He had already called customer service and had been given a “temporary password” but we were still locked out of his account.  And he was frustrated.

So I told him, “Just call customer service back.  I’m sure they can straighten it out.”

He dialed customer service.  He got re-routed.  He tried to explain.  And he got frustrated again.  I could hear a woman named “Lori” on the other end of the phone. 

“Sir, I already gave you the temporary password.  You must be typing it in wrong.”

I could tell Lori was in a hurry, and she was getting annoyed with his repeated calls. 

This old guy doesn’t understand.  He doesn’t know what he’s doing.  I already gave him the temporary password, and he probably can’t type.

Enter Lawyer Daughter.

My blood was starting to boil.  Instinctively, I ripped the phone out of his hands. I tried to explain that the temporary password wasn’t working, but Lori didn’t want to hear it.  She became even more annoyed with me.  (And, no, she wasn’t about to give me her last name.)

After several rounds of trouble shooting and two more calls to Lori, we finally convinced her to slow down and listen.  It wasn’t the password that was the problem, and together we figured out that the account just needed an adjustment.

Lori wasn’t so bad after all.  And I can’t blame her for being in a hurry.  (Heck, she probably gets paid on how many calls she takes a day.)

Some days, I feel a lot like Lori.  Some days, I need to slow down and listen.

Should You Ask God For A Sign This Christmas?

It's the season of signs.  And the virgin birth is one of the greatest signs of all times – foretold over 700 years before the birth of Jesus.  So, how did this sign come about?  Did somebody ask for it?

Just the opposite.

Back in the 8th Century BC, when the virgin birth was foretold through the prophet Isaiah, God actually tells King Ahaz to ask for a sign.

Ask the Lord your God for a sign. (Isaiah 7:10-11)

Remarkably, Ahaz blows God off.

“I will not ask; I will not put the Lord to the test.” (Isaiah 7:12)

On its face, it sounds like a pretty good answer.  After all, who wants to test God?  Maybe we shouldn’t bother him by asking him for signs.

But deep down, Ahaz didn’t want a sign.  Underneath his pious answer, he was probably thinking, I don’t need to hear from God.  I already have it figured out.  I'm going to get out of this mess without God's help.

Let’s just say God wasn’t very happy with his response.  The prophet Isaiah scolds Ahaz, “Will you try the patience of my God also?” (v. 13b)

But God doesn’t stop there.  He goes on to reveal his master plan.  He tells Ahaz about the sign of all signs.

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. (v. 14)

But Ahaz misses it.  He acts against the counsel of Isaiah.  He strikes a deal with his enemies, the Assyrians.  They turn on him.  And history tells us that it costs him his kingdom.

All because he wouldn’t ask for a sign. 
The good news?  God doesn’t stop with Ahaz.  Some 700 years later, he brings the sign to pass through a young virgin.  With or without Ahaz, he continues his plan.
I don't know about you, but I don't want to be like Ahaz.   Maybe it's time to ask for a sign.

Why not ask God to show up this Christmas? 

Suffering From Holiday Guilt?

Something has gone terribly wrong.  Christmas – the sacred holiday that is supposed to celebrate freedom and grace --  has become poisoned with guilt.  And I’m not just talking about ordinary guilt.  I’m talking about deep-seeded, lingering guilt that keeps people up at night.

Here are a few recent examples.

• A young mother won’t be enjoying Christmas morning with her husband and four children.  Why not?  Her mother-in-law insists on hosting Christmas Eve out of town.  Never mind that the children won’t be nestled in their beds when Santa is supposed to arrive!
• Another mother just couldn’t find the time to make homemade Christmas cookies.  She buys some store-bought dough and her husband jabs “That’s what bad mommies do!”
• A colleague in her 30’s finds herself still exchanging gifts with her adult cousins.  She suggests that, in lieu of gifts, they make a charitable donation in memory of their grandparents.  She is accused of trampling on family traditions and dishonoring the dead.
• A child is crushed when he finds out that another boy in his class has given his teacher an almost-identical Christmas present. He is embarrassed and ashamed of his gift, especially since the other boy’s gift is much nicer.
• A group of colleagues plan a Christmas lunch.  Only the “cool” people are invited, and the office nerd feels hurt and left out.  He vows to drop his unwelcoming colleagues from his Christmas card list next year!

I could go on.  And on. 

Is Christmas guilt getting the best of you this year?  If so, try replacing it with some holiday grace.  After all, Christmas is about salvation and freedom.  Start acting like it!

The Working Mom’s Guide To Saying Yes!

This post was supposed to be about saying NO!  After all, if you’re a working mom, the word no probably isn’t in your vocabulary. Most of us need to draw some serious boundaries.

So why on earth am I writing a post about saying yes? 

It’s simple.  We need to start saying yes first.  We need to start saying yes to the things that are really important.  

Ok, maybe it’s a bit more complicated than it sounds.  I’ll admit, I really don’t have this whole yes/no thing figured out.  But I do know that I’ve probably had it backwards.  And I don’t think I’m alone.

Most weeks, I let my schedule fill up with lots of “stuff.”  Most of this stuff is good -- ranging from work, school, activities, exercise – but at the end of the week I find myself asking, What did I really accomplish?

I’m not suggesting that my daily routine isn’t productive or worthy of my time.  I am suggesting it’s not always intentional.

And this holiday season – when my schedule typically blazes out of control – I want to be intentional.  So, how does this translate into saying yes? 

[Click here to continue reading at Work, Wife, Mom ... Life!]

Are You A Social Media Loner?

Most of my friends don’t blog.  Few of my family members use social media. My husband has vowed to never join Twitter or Facebook.  (And my kids are too young to participate!)

The result?  I’m a social media loner.

And those of us who are loners need to think through our options.

Option #1 Beg Your Family and Friends to Join You

You’re a constant nag.  You frequently beg your family and friends to join the blogging world.  You apply peer pressure and say things like “You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” and “When are you going to join the 21st Century?”

Option #2 Hide Your Social Media Use

Nagging hasn’t worked.  You’re tired of begging, so you simply act like you’re not a social media junkie.  You downplay (or hide) your online activity -- “I’m just finishing up some work again.  Me? Blogging again? Of course not!”

Option #3 Set Boundaries

Your family and friends think you’ve gone mad.  They’ve attempted an intervention.  So you set some serious boundaries.  You turn off your blog on the weekends.  You don’t Tweet at the dinner table.  And even though you miss out on a few posts, it’s worth the trade off.

Option #4 Live in Two Worlds

You’re comfortable in your social media skin.  Hey, it’s just another part of your life.  You let your family and friends know that, while they are welcome to join you, they will never be replaced by your online world.  You choose to lead an “integrated” life. 

Are you a social media loner?  If so, what are your coping mechanisms?

Have a good weekend!

Why I’m Just Saying “No”

It’s not in my nature to say “no.” 

But this is the time of year when something has to give.  When I can’t do everything I love to do.  When I have to set some serious boundaries.

What are some of the things I’m saying "no" to?

Here’s the short list:

• I’m not spending time in shopping malls and check-out lines.
• I'm not putting bows on my presents (wrapping is also optional).
• I’m not making a business trip to New York this week (even though I really wanted to!).
• I'm not going to be able to get my hair colored before Christmas.
• I’m not in charge of my kids’ holiday parties at school (but I am planning to show up unannounced and empty-handed).
• I’m not blogging as frequently this month (even though I really miss it!).

So, you might not hear as much from me in the coming weeks.  (Heck, I might even re-circulate some old blog posts from last Christmas and completely check out.)  Just please don’t take my short-term "no" as long-term disinterest. 

What are you saying "no" to this Christmas?

It's Time To Wake Up!

Do you still have that Thanksgiving hangover? The feeling like you ate too much, slept too much, and need to recharge your body and brain? 

Me too.  Fortunately, Advent has arrived – just in time to usher me out of my Tryptophan stupor.

Don’t get me wrong, Tryptophan  -- an essential amino acid found in turkey – isn’t all bad.  It helps your body produce the B-vitamin niacin, which, ­in turn, helps produce serotonin, a necessary chemical that acts as a calming agent in the brain and helps you sleep.

But if we’re not careful, some of us can sleep right through the holidays.  I think you know what I mean.

Let’s face it, December is already a dark month – the days are shorter, the leaves are dead, and the sun rarely peaks its head out of the clouds here in the Midwest.  Sure, the Christmas carols are playing, but it’s easy to walk through the shopping malls like zombies.  It’s easy to just go through the motions. 

This is where Advent comes in.  In my church, we started the first Sunday of Advent (yesterday) by talking about John the Baptist.

Who is John the Baptist?  To start, he’s Jesus’ first cousin.  A prophet.  A trailblazer. A wild man who ate honey and wild locusts.  A homeless guy who lived in the wilderness and said things like “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!”

You might be asking yourself, What do I have in common with John the Baptist?  He sounds like a lunatic.

Maybe so, but stick with me.  God still uses wild men and woman to wake us up, especially when we’re walking around like spiritual zombies.  Sure, our 21st Century “wilderness” might look like check-out lines and traffic jams – but it’s still the wilderness. 

And John the Baptist knew a few things about living in the wilderness -- it’s like living forever in the month of December.  Day after day – everything is dead, the sun never shines, and it’s easier just to roll over and go back to sleep.  Like you’ve had too much Tryptophan.

But something is coming.  Someone is coming.  We don’t want to miss it, so we have to wake up.
 
It’s time to throw out the leftover turkey.

The Last (In Line) Shall Be First

Do you really want to do something radical?  Do you want people to notice that you aren’t just another selfish person living for the moment?  Then let someone cut in line today.

Most people hate waiting in line.  Including me.  I’m one of those people who tries to “help” the person behind the register (even when there are five people in front of me) by offering to do a price check or suggesting that we call another department or open a new line. 

Waiting tends to get the best of me.  Especially when it’s unexpected. 

Last week, I dropped Nick off for his “make-up” piano lesson -- a 30-minute wait that I wasn’t looking forward to.  When we arrived, Nick no sooner sat down at the piano when another student (and another impatient mother) arrived.

The teacher had double-booked the slot!  And one of us would have to wait another 30 minutes for the lesson to start.

So, did I do the mature thing and offer to go second?  Not exactly.  Nick had already started playing and I thought to myself, It’s a good thing we got here first.

But the other mother started ranting and raving about how she had so many errands to run, and the teacher was doing his best to be fair.  So he said, “Let’s flip a coin, and the student who wins the toss can choose to go first or second.”

We couldn’t argue with the coin toss.

The teacher flipped the coin, and the other student won – fair and square.  Rats!  Nick and I would have to wait.  So the teacher turned to the student and said, “Would you like to go first?”

To our surprise, she looked at Nick and replied, “No, I’ll go second.” 

And then, her mother gave her the look of terror.  A look that said, What are you thinking?  A look that said, Can’t you see how busy I am?  A look that said, How stupid can you be?

This sweet child  -- who was more gracious than any of the adults involved -- was now both embarrassed and belittled.  And I was started to get this yucky feeling in the pit of my stomach.  So I walked over to the piano chair, grabbed Nick by the coat and took him outside to wait.

I turned to Nick and said, “Remember, the last shall be first and the first shall be last.”

He just smiled and said, “Let’s go to Starbucks, Mom.”

Is Nothing Really Something?

I love unexpected windows.  And I don’t just open them, I usually jump right through them.
What kind of windows am I talking about?  For the most part, it’s unplanned blocks of time that I didn’t anticipate.


A couple of weeks ago, I took the day off for “oral surgery.”  I was dreading the day for several reasons.  For the record, I really hate going to the dentist.  I also hate doing “nothing."  It would be a lost day – a big waste of time!

After an early surgery, I was surprised to be sitting at home at 9:30 a.m.  And I didn’t really feel that bad.  I was too drugged to work.  No clients were expecting me to return calls.  No kids were expecting me to take care of them.  Nobody had a single expectation on my time.  Not even me. 

Wow, an unexpected window.  A free day.  A day to do nothing.


But wait a minute.  I hate doing nothing!  I know, I know, I need to get with the program.  Nothing is in.  Even a recent Harvard Business Blog talks about the benefits of doing nothing.  But it still doesn't come easy for me.  Nothing is hard work.

It's one thing to enjoy an unexpected window when you have a clear head (and a working jaw).  It's another thing when you are stuck with an ice pack and a fat lip.

So, did I just sit and do nothing?  Of course not.  I was getting really bored, so I decided to go to lunch with Doug.  So what if I couldn’t eat – I’ve never been very good at following doctor’s orders, and I was starting to get hungry.  Plus, I had to make the most of my newly found commodity.  Time. 

But lunch didn't taste very good.  I thought about shopping, but my head was really spinning.  So I went home and sat in silence.  That's right, I did a little bit of nothing.  And it felt really good.  The day went incredibly slow.  And then it was over.  And then I asked myself where the time doing nothing had gone.

I’m the kind of person that never plans to do nothing.  But sometimes God gives me unexpected windows.  And then I’m reminded that nothing is really something.

Nothing is pure grace.

I’m Worried About Bob

Last week, I got a call from a friend who had just lost his job.  I’ll call him Bob.  I’m really worried about him.

I’ve had friends lose their jobs before – between lay-offs, terminations, and down-sizings – but this was different. 

Bob got blind-sighted.  And Bob lived for his job.

In fact, Bob gave up everything for his job.  His hobbies.  His marriage.  Even his health.  So you can imagine his state of utter and complete panic when he called to tell me he had just been fired.  What was I supposed to say?

Bob, I tried to tell you a year ago that your job was sucking the life out of you.


Bob, maybe you should get on your hands and knees and beg your wife to take you back.


Bob, I’m sure this all happened for a reason.  I’ll be praying for you.


Bob, you need to file a lawsuit.  I’ll find you a lawyer.


I just couldn’t find the right words.  So I listened.

Bob used to go to church on a regular basis, but I’m not real sure where his spiritual life is headed these days.  I hope and pray that his new-found circumstances will get him thinking.  What’s important?  What am I living for?  Is a job worth risking everything?


I still worry about Bob.

Would You Get Plastic Surgery?

Would you get plastic surgery to advance your career?  That’s the question today on Working Mommy Wednesday.

This is an easy answer for me.

“No.”

Now, before you conclude that I’m a spiritual giant who is only interested in inner beauty (and believes plastic surgery is only for the vain and shallow people among us) think again.

My objection to plastic surgery has more to do with my aversion most types of medical procedures.  I can’t stand the sight of blood.  I don’t tolerate pain very well.  And most medication makes me ill.

The last time I stayed overnight in a hospital I tried to sneak out early.  The only problem?  I had a newborn with me, and it was pretty hard to keep her quiet.  So the nurses almost called security….

Sure, there are other reasons to avoid plastic surgery – like the time and money that could be better spent elsewhere (like on starving children across the world!) – but I really try not to judge other people who sign up for tummy tucks and liposuction.  After all, if I made a living on stage or in front of a camera I might feel differently. 

As much as I tell my daughters “God only cares about what you look like on the inside” the fact of the matter is we live in a society that is driven by appearances.  While our security and identity shouldn't rest on how we look, ever the research shows that appearances can affect the way people treat us (and even our ability to earn a living). 

If plastic surgery was cheap, fast, and easy I just might do it.  After all, I dye my hair on a regular basis and I’m not opposed to wrinkle cream.

What’s the difference?

My Dad Turns 80 Today!

My dad turns 80 today.  So I decided to interview him right here on the blog.  Please leave him a comment and wish him a great day!

How does it feel to be 80?

(Long pause.)  When you say 80, that doesn’t mean much to me.  I think back on my life, and I’ve had a good life.  Many blessings.  A great family.  A wonderful family.  Years don’t mean anything to me.  I have had health struggles, but I don’t blame it on age.  I’m very happy with life. 

What are some of the biggest changes you’ve seen in your lifetime?

The speed of life today is frightening.  Everyone is in a big hurry.  Technology is great, but we have too much communication with the internet and TV.  Like when we watched the miners being rescued in Chile. Years ago, we would read about it a week later.
I am bothered by how people treat each other.  There is a loss of respect.  People have forgotten how to get along and live with other people.
There have also been a lot of good changes.  Living today is very comfortable compared to years ago. 

What was is like growing up in the Depression?

I always had something to eat.  I know that my mother and dad struggled a lot.  My mother struggled with health problems.  My dad had a hard time finding work.  I remember him going out and trying to do any kind of work – fixing a car or planting a tree.  Around the mid-30’s, my father found a job in the steel mill and things got better.  WWII created work – factories needed to supply tanks, planes, and ammunition to our Allies.  Things got pretty good then.

What’s the greatest lesson you learned from your parents?

My parents taught me that family was very important.  My parents and my grandparents were always pro-family.  I’ve tried to duplicate their way of living. 
My parents were always honest in their feelings and they loved each other.

Your parents were married almost 60 years and you’ve been married 54 years.  What’s the secret to a great marriage?

A great woman.

What are some of your most vivid memories?

Dating your mother.  After retiring, going places with my wife and traveling.  Doing things and going places we always dreamed about. 

If you could do it all over again, would you do anything differently?

I would make sure I had a college degree.  I wouldn’t have spent so much money on automobiles. 

You’re Navy veteran.  What does being a veteran mean to you? 

Being very proud that I spent time in the Navy.  Doing duty for my country.  I made 32 round trips across the Pacific.  We were taking troops to Korea and rotating troops to different islands during the Korean War.  The Navy gave me schooling opportunities – I chose weather forecasting school in Lakehurst, NJ.  Even today I can read weather maps and tell you what the weather is going to be like. 

What’s your greatest accomplishment?

We have five wonderful daughters who are all happily married.  My daughters are all different, but they are all special in their own ways.  We have 14 grandchildren.  They are all special in their own ways.  I’m very happy.  I think that God has blessed me richly with my wonderful wife and family. 

Is there anything you still wish you could do?

I wish I had the strength to play golf.  To walk on the beach.  To work in the yard.  To just to have the ability to get around.

What’s the best advice you can give to younger generations?

Be honest with yourself as well as others.  Know both your capabilities and your limits.  Make sure you diversity – don’t put everything in one basket.  Don’t forget God in your life.

How did your faith become stronger over the years?

I have to give a lot of credit to my wife.  She never gave up. 

Is there anything you would like to say to the blogging world?

Be very careful.  There’s people out there who are looking for others to make a mistake.  There are people out there who looking to criticize and misuse what you say. 

**********

Happy Birthday Dad, and thanks for a great interview!  (For more posts about my dad, see How An Old-Fashioned Father Father Raised Five Loyal Daughters and Thanks For Fighting Dad. )

What Would Your Co-Workers Say About You?

When I first saw this prompt for Working Mommy Wednesday, I thought, Maybe I’ll just ask.  You know, I could send an email to my co-workers asking, “Just tell me what you think about me, so I can blog about it.”

But that wouldn’t be fair.  That would ruin all the fun.  So here goes.

My coworkers would probably say that I like being in charge.  I have specific ideas about how things should be done.  My way!  And, while I try to be open minded and listen to others, it can be pretty difficult to change my mind.  You have to be persuasive.  Expect some push back.

Another thing about me?  I can be a control freak.  While I’m all for delegation (because, if done right, it can involve me doing less work), I expect things to be done at a certain standard.  I have a passion for excellence.  And, while I’ve gotten much better at delegation over the last few years, I’m better at telling people what to do than showing them how to do it.  Training takes time and patience, and I’m not a teacher by nature.  I’m a doer.  So, unless you’re a mind reader, you’re probably not going to know exactly what I expect from you.  Sorry.

My co-workers would also say that I push the envelope.  A little too much.  I’m known to over commit and over book.  I work best under tight deadlines so I’m not going to focus on something unless I really need to.  But when I do become focused and get in “the zone”  I can be a little cranky.

Last but certainly not least, I really like to have fun at work.  And sometimes, when circumstances don’t cooperate, you have to make lemonade out of lemons.  (And then drink the entire pitcher!)  I have little tolerance for people who always see the glass half empty.

I hope my co-workers would say that I lead by example.  That I admit my mistakes.  That I’m willing to take one for the team, even if it’s at my own expense.

What do you think your co-workers would say about you?  (Maybe I need to just participate in one of those 360 evaluations and find out the truth!)

Are Online Relationships Real?

Remember when you were a kid, and you had imaginary friends?  Remember when grown-ups thought you were crazy?

That’s how I feel sometimes as a blogger.

Last week, I was speaking to a group of intelligent women, trying to explain some of the intangible benefits of my writing.

“The most incredible part of blogging is some of the new friends I’ve met.”

I went on to explain. “I consider many other bloggers dear friends.  Some of these friends encourage me on a daily basis.”

I noticed a few blank stares in the audience.

They must think I’m crazy.  Maybe I am!


After all, a year ago, I would have told me I was crazy.  You can’t have real relationships online, can you?  Relationships where people don’t actually meet in person.  Where people hide behind computer screens (where they can conveniently hide their faults and annoying personalities).

Other bloggers don’t smell.  They don’t show up at my doorstep unexpected.  They don’t put demands on my time.  They don’t ask me to help with carpool duty or bake cookies for the Election Day bake sale (yeah, I forgot to sign up again this year).

How can a relationship be real when it is completely on my terms?  When I’m the one in control? When it doesn’t involve sacrifice?

Maybe online relationships are imaginary after all.  After all, I can just turn them off with a power button.

But wait a minute.  Smelly or not, my online friendships have stretched me, that's for sure.  No one is pointing a gun to my head, yet I’m pushing myself to read other blogs, write encouraging comments, and even meet deadlines.  I’m not just pushing myself to write, I’m pushing myself to connect.  And while I probably started blogging in search of fans, the wonderful truth is that I’ve found some friends instead. 

And friends are worth it.  Online or not.

Stepping Out Of Your Comfort Zone

Yesterday, I received a really great email.  It was from a woman I had just met.  A woman who had just picked up a copy of Chasing Superwoman.

“Wow, I just read the first 20 pages and even though I don’t have small children and am not particularly religious, your writing is still talking to me!”

Why did this email mean so much? 

Here’s the quick background. 

This week, I attended a conference of women lawyers and spoke about Chasing Superwoman.  And I was pretty nervous.  What would my peers (and my client!) think about me when I opened up my soul?  Would they think I was too religious?  Even a Jesus freak?

For the record, women lawyers are a tough group.  (I know, I’m one of them.)  Which is why I was a little scared to share my story.  In fact, the woman who sent me the email told me straight up that she was initially reluctant to open my book – yeah, it seemed a little too “religious.”  (I was more than thrilled when she went on to say she didn’t find my writing to be preachy or judgmental – so she kept reading!)

Stepping out of your comfort zone usually involves some risk.  Even some uncertainty.  There’s no guarantee people will respond the way you want them to.  In fact, every time I put myself “out there” I usually have a few second thoughts.

Why don’t I just play it safe?  Why do I have to push the envelope?  What if it backfires?

I still have a lot to learn about stepping out of my comfort zone.  But one thing’s for sure.  It keeps life interesting, doesn’t it? 

In this case, I even made a new friend.

Is Ambition Bad?

I am on a conflicted journey with ambition.

There’s a part of me that likes being ambitious. I mean really ambitious. I want to be the best at everything. Work. Home. Relationships. Writing. Even play. There is a standard of excellence that inspires me, pushes me, and engages me. And that’s a good thing. Isn’t it?

Maybe not.

Sometimes I worry that being ambitious isn’t all that spiritual. So I look around me. Some of the most ambitious people I know don’t claim to follow Jesus. Some of them even think that Christians are misguided and uneducated. And I like being educated. At least I like it when people think I’m educated. So I worry some more. What am I supposed to do about this ambitious spirit of mine?

[Click here to continue reading at The High Calling]