The Days of Our Lives

Caryn: So I was just sitting here reflecting—admiring, really, if you must know—the things I did today. Allow me to share: I got my son off to school, took my daughter to her weekly morning church program. Sat in the coffee shop and worked on a chapter for my next book. Went to a “worship planning” meeting at church (I brought what my pastor called “a whole lotta nada” to the meeting, but still….). Listened to a draft of a song to which I WROTE the lyrics (well, me and Habakkuk). Then back home to get daughter ready for kindergarden. (A friend took her home from her morning thing.)

Then I took her to school. Went with my three-year-old to my mom’s house to walk her dog for her. Then, I headed out to Wheaton to drop off some freelance work, scooted over to Christianity Today International (of “Caryn and Carla used to work there” fame) to pick up something for my conference this weekend. Then I went to Culvers for a snack pack. (Walleye is back! Just FYI.)

Then I came home, edited a blog post and got the kids from the bus. Then I talked to a woman from a church where I’m speaking in a week. Then I “cooked” dinner and headed off to a marketing committee meeting for my kids school, where basically, we make all sorts of plans to rule the world. Came home, got last the kid to bed and sat down to check Facebook and reflect on my day.

Which brings me to here: I realized that today I think I did at least a small amount of work on every random thing I’m involved in. Every part of my life somehow meshed together (except, I realized, the Mommy Revolution, which is why I’m now writing this). This never happens. But I’m so glad it did.

While I’m sure I just bored you to tears with the recount of my day, I have to say, it’s been one of my favorite days in a long time—because it contained all the things I love to do. And it involved some of my favorite people. And I just wanted to document this—maybe even celebrate it. Because I’m sure tomorrow will be filled with all sorts of horrors and me pulling out my hair wondering when I am ever going to catch a break and get to do what I love.

Well, today I got a huge break. I did what I love to do today. Feels really good. So I wanted you to know. How was your day, Carla?

Carla: meh.

I, too, love those days when I feel like it was worth waking up, days when I used my brain and my creative juices and my muscles and my heart. I love feeling engaged with my life. But I haven’t had one of those in a long time and I could use a few.

So it’s funny that you mention this because the lack of those days has been weighing on me of late. The hubs and I had a big “discussion” about this last week. Since he is often the only adult I talk to in a given day, he gets all of my rantings and ramblings and stunted efforts at complex thinking. And sometimes he has the energy to engage in all of that and sometimes he doesn’t. Anyway, I have been frustrated that I can’t seem to find the time or the energy or the mojo to get engaged. I feel like I’m drifting through my days and I don’t like it.

So how do I get there? (psst Caryn, I’m asking for real. Tell me what to do.)

On the bright side, I have started a teaching gig that I LOVE but that is also a lot of work and taking up both too little and too much of my life. As with most things, if it was all I had to do, it would be fantastic.

Caryn: Carla, I have no idea. I’m in major drift mode most of the time—hence my delight when a day really cranks. Of course, I wrote that yesterday and indeed today was gross. Not horrible. But not filled with anything I like.

But I wonder if any of the other Revolutionaries have ideas on how to stop drifting through days and crank? Or, do some of you like drifting?

My Dream Girl

Carla: At the risk of sending you away and you never coming back, let me introduce you to the Pioneer Woman. Now some of you are probably already  well-aquainted with the lovely Ree Drummond and her highly funny, beautiful, endlessly entertaining presence on the Interwebs. But if you’re not, go meet her. Just please come back and visit your old Revolutionary friends now and then, will you?

Once you check it out, I probably won’t need to tell you why I am so enamored of this site. Here’s a woman who takes excellent pictures, homeschools her kids, cooks, writes, loves her husband, is decorating her gorgeous mountain lodge, and confesses that most days she is pretty clueless about how to do any of those things. Plus she has a basset hound.

But I think what I like most is that she seems happy. She isn’t cynical. She isn’t ornery or snide or smarmy. She’s doing her thing–which seems to be working out very well for her–and taking the struggles in stride. She doesn’t gloss over the messy parts of her life but I never get the sense that she’s bitter about living on a cattle ranch and all the manure in the laundry that must involve. She has four kids and has found ways to balance their needs with her own–sometimes more successfully than others. She just has a vibe about her that I find so refreshing.

I’m pretty sure she is who I want to be when I grow up.

Obama’s Fatherhood Cop-Out

Caryn: Carla you’re going to be so mad at me. Because after months of being too swamped or lazy to start a post myself, it took our president’s foolish words to get me writing.

Of all the things I disagree with Barack Obama on, perhaps this little ditty from a public service announcement is the worst. Here’s what he says:

“To be a good father is the most important job in a man’s life, but it doesn’t have to be hard. Play catch, go to a park or visit a zoo. Help your child with their homework. Sit down together for dinner. Ask them how their day was. Things get busy, and sometimes we all fall short, but the smallest moments can have the biggest impact on a child’s life. Take time to be a dad today.”

Okay. So, of course, being a dad is the most important job in a man’s life (well, except maybe if you’re president…) and yes, those are all fun ideas for being a good dad. But “it doesn’t have to be hard”?!?!? Honestly, that’s one of the worst messages for both moms and dads I’ve ever heard. Now, an open letter to our President:

Dear Pres. Obama: Being a good dad isn’t about playing catch or going to the zoo or sitting down to dinner while leaving all he hard stuff to your baby’s mama. In fact, a dad who doesn’t do the hard stuff is a slack dad. A bad dad. You’re letting men off the hook.

Pres. Obama, you’ve also just sent a horrible message to moms. That WE alone are responsible for the hard, ugly stuff of parenting while dads just need to be there for the fun. This is one of the grueling stereotypes that continues to oppress women and mothers. It’s one of the reasons we have the Mommy Revolution.

You claim to be for (fight for?) equality, but your message just gave lazy dads a nice boost and good dads a slap in the face. Thanks. You owe all mothers—-and HARD-doing dads—a giant apology.

Because you’re clearly confused on this issue, I’m sure Carla and I would be happy to come to Washington for a nice lunch and help you understand this matter.  And then perhaps we should become your Parenting Czars. I’d be happy to suspend my outrage over your Czars and my Libertarian, small-gov beliefs if it came with a sweet six-fig salary and that awesome government health plan for me and Carla (I mean, for EACH of us. We can’t share the six figs).

Thank you for your hard work as President.

(Carla, if this is hard for you to respond to, just pretend W–or maybe Nixon–said it).

Carla: I get your point. I do. But as I’ve barked at you on Facebook this morning, it’s hard for me to separate my impressions of his words from my weariness with the Obama-bashing. I mean, the man’s reading a script. He didn’t say this off-the-cuff at some dinner party. If you want to be irked at someone, be irked at the National Responsible Fatherhood Clearinghouse. This is their message.

And really, I think your parsing words here. The word “hard” is meant to convey that parenthood is not rocket science. You don’t have to be an expert on child development to be a good parent. You need to be there, be invested, take initiative, pay attention. In that sense, it’s not hard. And honestly, for the kind of dad who needs an organization to help him figure out how to be a dad, this is a good start. Be there. Show up. Take an interest. Participate.

Like I said to you on FB, I think there are moms who would love the fathers of their children to take them to the park or read them a story. I know that’s the fun stuff, but so what? It’s still involvement. And it’s a starting point. Anyone who’s ever taken a kid to the park knows it’s usually anything but fun. That dad will have to push the swing till his arms hurt. He’ll have to deal with that mean kid who shoves his baby off the slide. He’ll have to soothe his child when she gets sand in her eye and figure out where the bathroom is and learn the hard way that he should have brought snacks. The fun stuff leads to the hard stuff.

To me, the bigger outrage is that there is a need for a message like this. It’s ridiculous that the president has to tell men how to be fathers. If you want to be mad about something, be mad at the men who abandon their families–whether it’s a physical abandonment or an emotional one. Be mad at the men who spend all of their free time away from their kids because they need to “recharge” after a long week. Be mad at the dads who work 70 hours a week in the name of “providing” when what their kids really need is a dad who shows up at their games and concerts and tucks them in at night. Being mad at the president for telling men to step it up is, to me, a waste of a good rant.

Did you know that earlier this week this same president proposed doubling the childcare tax credit for families that earn less than $85,ooo a year? That has nothing to do with anything, but I thought you’d like to know that he does, occasionally, do nice things for families.

And for the record, Mr. President, I am absolutely free for lunch.

Caryn: I understand your weariness. I did, after all, vote for George W. Bush—twice. One of the reasons I was actually glad to see Obama will was that I was just tired of all the bitching.

And I understand that it was scripted. To me, it makes it worse. But alas, we will agree to disagree on that. You ARE right that it is the bigger point that we live in a country where the president (who by the very nature of his past few jobs means he was almost never with his kids—I say this as the wife of a political candidate, so I’m not judging. Just grumbling) needs to help teach dads how to be dads. And I think his version was a smack in the face to all the actual read good dads. Not to mention moms.

(Oh, and regarding the tax credits…according to him, we should not be paying any taxes. Sweet. We’ll see what happens on April 15. Though, once we get those Czarina posts, Carla, we may be singing a different tax tune. Top brackets, baby!)

You Say It’s Your Birthday

Carla: While the actual birth-days of my children are three of the most miraculous and memorable moments of my life, I must say that celebrating those days is, to me, one of life’s bigger hassles.

My poor son was born on a major holiday, which means we either have his birthday party a few weeks before the actual day or a few weeks after it. If I remember. I have managed to pull off some kind of birthday party for him every year, but only out of guilt. I long for the day he doesn’t care or just plans his own party.

I’m not alone here. Today I called another mom to invite her son to my son’s last-minute, way-overdue birthday party and she noted that she has not had a party for her son yet, even though his birthday was a few months ago. Another mom invited my son to her boy’s party with the caveat, “His actual birthday was last summer but we’re just getting around to the party now.”

I hate hate hate hate hate planning birthday parties, even the extremely low-key, not-at-our-house, someone-else-makes-the-food-and-cleans-up, no-there-is-no-goodie-bag kind we are prone to throw together. I suppose like most things that stress me out it’s just a matter of making it happen–the event itself is not a big deal. And now that the friends have been called and the thing is on iCal, I feel a bit better. But still.

I guess what I really want to know is, how did this become my job? My husband hasn’t put one ounce of thought into this thing. He has not once woken up in the middle of the night panic-stricken because he can’t believe it’s almost February and we still haven’t had a party. Oh, he’ll be at the party and help hand out cupcakes and get bowling balls for everyone. And he makes the kids’ actual birthdays all kinds of fun. But the party planning has somehow landed on my mental plate and I don’t know why.

Caryn: Funny you should mention this. I’ve got two b-days coming up in the next month-ish and have already been thinking about how this will all go down. I, too, hate planning parties and I too have never done a goodie bag (but we DO always have a pinata, so that counts). And I too am always the one planning the party–with the husband who gets drinks for the adults and hangs and finds the proper bat for the pinata.

But I dunno. I don’t know why this falls on our laps. Clearly, the party should be for US that day. But I’m guessing it’s just because we love our kids so stinkin’ much and we’ve all heard the stories of those kids born on leap day in a leap year and who’s mom only celebrated their birthdays ever four years and know that moms who throw parties give their kids one less thing to grumble about down the road.

(Can you tell I have wet hair and have to run out the door to a meeting in 10 minutes?)

Carla: In the scope of things, this is a very minor complaint. And really, it’s not even a complaint as much as a…um…an…eh…. Okay, it’s a complaint.

I will say this, however, I am blessed to be amongst parents who–with very few exceptions–keep their kids’ parties as low-key as we do. I read about these over-the-top parties and how parents feel like they are stuck in this cycle of one-up-momship and I’m sooo glad that’s not the world I live in. I would be a big dud in that world.

There are two kinds of people in the world: those for whom birthdays are a big deal and those for whom they are not. I like to think that I am raising my children to have low expectations for their birthday celebrations. Their future friends will thank me.

Listen Up

Carla: This morning, as is the case every Sunday morning, I will be talking about Rev. stuff with my dear friend Doug Pagitt. His weekly show is on am950 in the Twin Cities, but you can listen online anytime here. I’m usually on at 10:34 and this morning will be extra special as Sarah Sampedro of Art and Motherhood joins Doug at 11. So if you’re digging Sarah’s photos, wait until you hear her talk about what she’s doing. Hope you’ll tune in!

Honesty, Art, and Motherhood

Carla: I’m about to make your day so much better. My friend Sarah has started a project that you have to see for yourselves–365 days of motherhood as seen through her camera. Her project is called Art and Motherhood and you need to take a look.

Now here’s what makes this so incredible. Sarah is an award-winning photographer. She is also one of the most honest, transparent people I know. That means the pictures she’s taking are the real deal. They are beautiful, heartbreaking, funny, hopeful, stark, and sometimes literally naked. She doesn’t gloss over the realities of motherhood or family life. Sometimes there are tears–and not just from the kids. Sometimes there are messes. Sometimes there is laughter. Sometimes there is just work.

But this project isn’t just about the photos. It’s about Sarah. This photo-journal is her effort to keep her creative spirit alive in the middle of her life as a mom. It’s a way of keeping the best parts of herself from withering under the weight of responsibility. I love that about her and I think you will too.

Caryn: Of course, I love everything about this. Well, except for today’s photo. I had to click away quickly. It represents all of the kid-neediness I am overwhelmed with at this moment and I just couldn’t deal. But the other ones are wonderful. I’m sure if I go back to today’s photo later—when my kids are reading or playing quietly—I will also love it.

But what I really loved was this sentence on her “About” page about why she’s doing this: “I want to be successful at both without waiting until I’m fifty, have an empty nest and find myself at a community ed class saying ‘I used to really like photography and now I’d like to get back into it.'”

Amen, sister. It’s why we do what we do too. I hope you ALL have something you love to do, are great at, and are succeeding at while you are being a great mom.

Carla: And if you don’t, it’s time to figure out what that something might be. We die inside if we don’t have a dream, something that we’re passionate about, something that keeps us connected to the core of who we are created to be. It might even be being a great mom.

I think a big part of what touches me about what Sarah is doing is that she has paid attention to what gives her life and she’s not letting go of it. That’s what I want for myself, for my friends, for my kids. It’s far too easy to let it slip away.

Stupid Stupid

Caryn: I’ve written before about me not being a good mom. At least, not in the sense of being the sort of mom to whom others look for guidance or advice or wisdom. I’m a good mom in that I love my kids and am snuggling a crabby two-year-old on my lap as I type and am not reaching for my coffee because I don’t want to disturb this precious moment. But, I do a lot of things “wrong.”

Case in point: The other night I was telling a group of people about how my snuggly two-year-old is on a kick where he calls everything “stupid.” I was laughing as I shared examples of how I’ll say, “We’re going to Target.” And he’ll go, “No, that’s stupid.” Or how I’ll say, “Let’s get some lunch.” And he’ll go, “Lunch is stupid.” Honestly, it’s darling and it cracks me up.

But as I shared this—me laughing—I looked around at the faces. Total horror. One mom said, “How awful. Let’s hope he gets this out of his system before he gets to school.”

And I was reminded of how “stupid” is on the banned words list among many parents. I still don’t know why.

With the exception of calling another person “stupid” (particularly if that other person actually IS stupid) or being TOO disrespectful, I’ve never gotten the big deal with this word and kids. Maybe it’s because my kids are hilarious—and sharp–and want them to grow up being laughed at (in a good way). Maybe it’s because I say “stupid” all the time and think it’s a fantastic word. Very workable. Tons of things (and people) ARE stupid and I see little wrong with it.

So I thought this might be something to address here….What are the things that we’re cool with that might horrify others?

Carla: A friend of mine once told me she doesn’t let her kids read “Max and Ruby” books because they use the “s-word.” It was the first time I’d ever heard of that word being ban-worthy. I mean, I don’t want my kids calling other people stupid and we crack down when they use it to refer to each other, but it’s not like other “s-words” they could be using.

There’s a whole list of words like this, words that don’t bother me in the least that I worry are offensive to other people. Like butt. We call the rear end of a human being a butt. Not a bottom, not a behind, not a fanny, a butt. Sometimes it’s a tush, but only because that’s such a cute word and it suites the cuteness of my children’s butts. Anyway, I’m always a little taken aback when I hear parents “correct” their kids when they use a word like butt. I used to check myself because I figured it was me who was too lenient. Now? Well now I don’t really care. We say butt. Get over it.

As for things we think are cool that might be horrifying to other parents… where to start? Probably with The Simpsons. We don’t watch it often because it’s on while we’re at church (how fitting!), but when our oldest was a preschooler, we watched it all the time. And she watched it with us. And we laughed and laughed. Someone gave Emily a Marge Simpson doll and she carried it everywhere for a few months. She even brought it with her to the communion rail one Sunday. It was a proud moment for us. And lest anyone be horrified by a preschooler at the communion rail, it was an Episcopal church and they like that sort of thing.

Caryn: We say butt. When we’re not using what I thought was a Spanish word, but recently found out was totally made up by Rafi’s aunt. But that’s neither here nor there. With so much of this, it’s about usage and intent. Like, while I was just making dinner, my son was mocking my daughter for her pronounciation of “Messiah.” So I had to ban the word Messiah.

They asked if they could talk about Satan, then. I said sure. So now they’ve made up a nice song about “Satan Down in Hell.” It’s lovely. I’m sure they’ll someday see your Marge Simpson at the Lord’s Table and raise you a nice busted-out rendition of “Satan Down in Hell.” You think the Episcopalians can deal with THAT (Jen, can they?)?

But really, people, what are the things you are cool with that raise eyebrows elsewhere?

The In-Between Time

Carla: I love this time of year. I love the tension between past and future, this one week when the year that is closing seems complete and the year ahead seems wide open. It’s like this little island of contentment and possibility in the sea of constant expectation and anxiety.

I find that the fact that the year is ending means I no longer think about what did or didn’t happen during year. Any hopes I had of living up to whatever expectations I had last year at this time are gone–and that’s good! I didn’t loose 20 pounds. I wasn’t more patient. I didn’t work on any of my book ideas. I didn’t walk every day (see “didn’t loose 20 pounds”). I didn’t write letters or learn to knit or get organized. And you know what? It didn’t matter. Those things might have been nice, but not doing them didn’t ruin my year. Since I can no longer say “2009 is the year I….” I find that those things don’t concern me all that much. The stress of trying to improve myself has vanished.

In its place is this wondrous feeling of hope and possibility. The clean slate of 2010 is there, just waiting for me to make my mark. And I love that feeling. I love being on the front end of a new thing and knowing that there are changes ahead that I can’t even begin to imagine.

I realize that I felt this way about 2009, that I had high hopes of knitting and walking and writing and shrinking and that none of those hopes turned to reality. But 2010 gives me another chance to do–or not do–something about it. The pressure is off and there’s nothing but promise ahead.

Parenting gives us ample opportunity to beat ourselves up. But for the rest of this week, give yourself a break. You made it through this year. There are undoubtedly mistakes you wish you could undo. moments you wish you could take back. But instead of dwelling on those, give yourself a pat on the back for doing your best. Then move on. There’s a new year ahead.

Caryn: This is also why lately I love Mondays. Full of hope and promise and the chance to start fresh. Anything that offers that, is good with me.

I am more than ready to say goodbye to 2009. In many ways, it’s been a great year: my first book came out in March; I got an offer for a second book this fall; among other good things.

But these past few months have been more crazy than I can handle due to my husband’s campaign for State Rep. We’ve moved from a pretty egalitarian, co-parenting, co-working family to sort of the retro, Mommy smiles supportively while Daddy follows his dream. (Or, honestly, Mommy smiles supportively until bitterness and exhaustion get the best of me then I start yelling. And then I get it out and go back to smiley support.)

This sounds meaner than I want it to—because his race is exciting and I love it in many ways. Not to mention, that I’m incredibly proud. But I use it as an example to support many of the things I haven’t been able to do either. You’ll note (or at least Carla has) that I haven’t been the one to start a post in about 3 months. My brain space and computer time is so diminished and consumed that lots on my end have just had to give.

So to me 2010 offers a chance to move out of our sort of limbo, yet insanely busy campaigning state and see what our new reality will be. If it’s as a political family, great. Just gotta get used to that. If it’s not, great too. Either we’ll go back to the usual, or look forward to a new thing again. Either way, I’ve got a new book to write (and a deadline with money attached to it—so that’s a good incentive!) and a few other ideas up my sleeve that will drive me nuts if they stay bottled up in my brain.

Wow did I go off-topic. Sorry. Can you tell what’s on my mind? All to say, yes. Let’s give ourselves breaks for the next day or two of the year. Each of us did what we could (most likely) and here’s to 2010 giving us another chance to do what we’d love to do.

And if you live in Illinois, in the 41st District, for God’s sake get out on Feb. 2 (or do early voting) and vote for Rafael Rivadeneira. Who wouldn’t want a State Rep with a wife who blogs about life as it really is? : )

Carla: Okay Revs, for today and most of tomorrow, let go of any disappointment, guilt, and/or regret of 2009 and give yourself credit for all the ways you survived this year. Whether you accomplished something or nothing, whether you lost weight or money or sanity, let it go and breath in the goodness of a fresh start.

Happy New Year friends! Thanks for sharing your lives with us this year. We can’t wait to see where this Revolution takes us in 2010.

Giving Birth to a Big Idea

Carla: We know we’ve been a little quiet over here at the Rev. November was a sucky month for both of us and we are glad to see it go. But in the middle of the suckiness, we’ve had an idea that we want to bounce off of you.

We want to expand the Revolution. Right now, it’s just the two of us blathering on about this and that, and all of you making the whole blog so much better with your insights and honesty. So we want to make the Mommy Rev. more like a magazine with contributors and sections and regular features that not only offers more thoughts on more topics, but also makes space for more voices in this conversation.

We’ll keep blogging, but by next spring, we want to have a fresh site that is a one-stop resource for women and men who want to reframe parenting, faith, and life. While not being specifically a Christian site, we want to incorporate spirituality into what we’re doing not only because of our faith, but because we believe that spirituality is part of every life, no matter how a person expresses it.

Caryn and I are busy thinking about the kinds of issues we’d want to cover in this e-zine/website mash-up we have in our heads. We know we don’t want this to be about parenting in the “12 Ways to Get Your Kid to Eat Broccoli” kind of way, but we want to cover the fullness of who we are as people.

So we want to hear from you. What kind of broad topics do you want to read about? What are the big questions that we should explore?

Caryn: Yay! I’m so excited about this. We seriously have some cool stuff cooking in our heads and up our sleeves.

But I’d also like to know the types of formats you enjoy (besides our little back-and-forth blog chats, of course). I mean, do you like a little Q&A with “celebrity” guests. Do you want more in-depth, Vanity Fair type exposes that mean Carla and I have to spend lots of time snooping around the Hamptons this summer (please say yes)? And are there some really practical, how-to sorts of things that you might find helpful? I mean while we’re NOT looking to tell you how to get your kids to eat broccoli (I’ve just given up, frankly), I often want to know some specific tips on some parenting things (like how to get an embedded earring back out of my daughter’s ear, for example. Thank you, Facebook friends!) and on some woman and life kinds of things.

So please, tell us, tell us, tell us. And tell us WHO you’d like to hear from as well. And if you happen to be a gifted designer and web-person who’d like to do this for–um, how shall we put this?–crap pay, let us know that too.

Hope we can get you all as excited as we are.

The Rev Interview

Caryn: So when I started on my new “career” as a speaker and starting hitting up the church-women circuit, on more than one occasion I had people tell me I reminded them of this Elisabeth Corcoran woman. I’m not sure that it’s complimentary to her, but I took it as one since I’d heard Elisabeth speak and enjoyed her writing. But honestly, I think it’s just because we both have long, blonde hair. And truth be told, although we blondes get mocked for being stupid, the rest of the world seems to think all us long-blonde-haired types look alike. Now, who’s stupid….?

All this to say, Elisabeth and I have become dear Facebook friends, and have tried to connect for lunch, but I just keep dropping the ball because of this darned mommy-writing thing I have going on (she’s free as a bird with kids in school all day!). And Elisabeth just wrote a new book called He IS Just That Into You, which is fun and real and funny and deep and all the things we love at here at the Mommy Revolution.

Since a major theme of her book is on God’s faithfulness, I asked her a couple questions about that:

Caryn: What are three (or whatever) of the craziest ways you’ve seen God show up in your life?

Elisabeth: He told me actual directions to get to a home décor store once.  Seriously.  (It’s in the book.)

One time when I was away on a retreat alone, I felt him show up to bring me huge, deep healing after a long stretch of sadness.  (In the book.)

Almost every moment that I can recall from my times in Africa.  (In the book. 😉 

Caryn: We’re all about expectation and myth-busting. How has God’s faithfulness to you helped you live out motherhood in a more “true-to-you and true-to-God” fashion (fashion meaning, way, I’m not talking about your home decoration store stuff here)?

E: I really desire to have a daily and moment-to-moment relationship with God that influences my life, not just a Sunday thing, and not just a quiet time thing, and not just an all-talk thing.  I remember a very clear time when God showed me how much He cared about my daughter by using the Spirit to nudge me to pick her up early from a sleepover.  I didn’t listen.  I choose not to listen.  She called a few hours later saying they were watching a really scary and inappropriate movie.  I told her I was sorry and that I would listen in the future when the Spirit was nudging.  (In the book.  I’m noticing a trend here…)  😉

C: How do you communicate God’s faithfulness to your kids?

E: I pray for them and with them.  I ask others to pray for them.  A very recent (not in the book!) example is that my son is having some issues adjusting to middle school – who wouldn’t?  Just two days I asked a few friends and my mom to pray for him.  He came home that day saying he had a much better day and even his homework time went ridiculously more smoothly.  Though I didn’t tell him that I told all my friends to pray for him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed, I did say, “I bet I know why it was a better day…Grammy was praying for you all day today.”  He’s able to connect that praying actually works in his daily life.  Love when that happens.

C: Is there anything you’re currently waiting for God to be faithful on? How has your past experience with his showing up affected your patience or perserverance?

E: I have a relationship in my life that is consistently difficult.  I’m no longer waiting on God to change my circumstances like I used to be; now I’m waiting on God to keep my buoyed up in the harder moments.  And he has been and does.  I’ve seen him get me through really huge hard things without me completely losing it, so I know I can get through this with him walking me through it.

For more about the book or Elisabeth, visit her website or watch the fancy little book trailer.