Job Hunting

Dear Micah and Liam -

It's been a while since I've written to you. I knew that it would happen this way. Sometimes life gives us time to breathe and reflect, and sometimes we're just along for the ride, hoping that we can just say we made it out alive at the end of a day.
Your dad and I have been having a lot of discussion lately about me going back to work. I really need to find something that brings in more money because, unfortunately, my reward for watching you grow up and getting to be part of the process is not monetary.
It breaks my heart. I know that you guys will be okay. Micah, you have been in daycare before and I loved that experience for you. I loved you had friends there and teachers that loved you and a safe place to spend your day.
But oh, how I have treasured being at home with you both. I have loved that I have been there for the trains and the games and the lunches and the naps and the firsts and the seconds and the thirds of everything that you've done. It breaks my heart to be in the position where I can't always be with you. Even when the days have been challenging and I have known without a doubt that my life would be easier if I went to work, I have never regretted being home with you.
Both Daddy and I wish that this didn't have to happen this way, that life would be a little different. But sometimes we don't get our wish, the coin toss doesn't go our way, and life deals us a hand that we would rather not play.
We're in Pittsburgh as I write this, having come up for a sad reason. But the extra time away from home has given me time to reflect and begin to prepare myself for a new season in life, a season that involves being more than just your mom, and having a professional identity again.
So I want to ask your forgiveness in advance. I want to say that I'm sorry for the times that I can't be there. Know it's not a choice, but a necessity that keeps me from spending all of my minutes with you. But also know this - my choice comes in renewing my vow to completely cherish the minutes that I do have, because they will be even that much more precious to me when I don't have as many as I used to have.
Thank you for understanding. I love you so much, and am so happy God chose me for your mom.

Love,
Mommy

Trust

When Mommy told me that she had started a blog to write letters to you, in order to share our wisdom in writing, I was extremely grateful. I had been part of a memorial service recently where a young man shared a similar letter of wisdom with his very young son. Part of it was to share with him how special his great grandfather had been. I thought, "I should do that with our boys." As with most things, your mother had the best idea before I did.

One of the things that you are going to have to experience through me is the way God's call in my life affects our whole family. I had this same experience with my father, and wherever he was led, we all followed. I hope that as you grow you'll be able to participate more in that process with me. It's a very disconcerting kind of thing to be in ministry in this way, but God's call is a very powerful thing. It's not something we can always sense, but it's something we must always trust. This is what faith really is. It doesn't always make sense, but it never lets you down.

I'm at a point now where we may be called to a new place to do ministry. Micah, you are almost 3 years old and Liam, you just turned 1. It's hard to be thinking about a move, a new place, the change with both of you being so young. I don't want to necessarily go through all the work it might take to move, but when God calls we have to follow. I don't know yet when or where we will go and as I write this it is all very hard to discern. But I think I want to share with you that this is a process, just as with all parts of our lives, where we need to learn to trust God's leading. I hope we can try to do this all the time--it's usually not very easy. I love you both.

Love,
Dad

Letter to Daddy

Dear Micah and Liam -

It’s Father’s Day, 2010, and I want to tell you something about the amazing man that you have the privilege of calling “Daddy”.

Of all the decisions I’ve made in my life, save the one where I dedicated my life to God, choosing to marry your father was the absolute best one. There are so many reasons why he is the right choice for me as a partner, but that’s another letter. This is the time to focus on why he is the best father for the two of you.

10. He lets you be who you are. While I’m more concerned with milestones and developmental markers, your dad is more concerned with letting the true Liam and the true Micah shine true.

9. He’s not afraid of disciplining you. But he doesn’t go overboard; instead, he uses it to shape you as young people, so that you learn valuable boundaries.

8. He wants you to be citizens of the world. Your daddy is passionate about being green, supporting companies that are kind to people and the environment, and doing what we can to protect the earth that God has blessed us with. In other words, he’s making sure you have a great world in which to grow up in and eventually raise your own family.

7. He wants you to be well-rounded. He wants to introduce you to new things, new people, new places. One of the things he is best at is adjusting to life wherever he lands, and I know that he is working hard to instill that same thing in you.

6. He’s living a little bit of his childhood again through you, which makes him very understanding. He likes to watch Disney movies to you, take you to Disney, talk to you about cars and trucks. He’s meeting you where you are, and enjoying every minute of it.

5. He wants you to learn about Jesus. It was your daddy’s idea to get Micah his first Bible when he was just over a year old, and we’ll soon get one for Micah. He’s the one that sensed that starting you that young with the Bible was one of the best things we could do for you and he was right. Micah, you now cherish that reading and love picking out which Bible story we’ll read each night. Liam, I know you’ll soon know the same joy.

4. He loves showing you off to other people. The joy he finds in you is written all over his face when he introduces you to new people, or shows you off to people who haven’t seen you in a while. He’s proud of who you, how much you’re learning, and how fast you’re growing.

3. He loves your mother, and he’s not afraid to show that and speak of it. In doing so, he’s not only modeling what it means to be a great husband, but what it means to love in general, because real love isn’t afraid to make an occasional public display and it’s not afraid to be honest. Your dad is the best model of this that I know.

2. He loves you with all of his heart. I can see it in the way that he plays with you, takes you places, even watches you during children’s time at church. Visible love is a unique gift to offer your children, and your father gives it to you in spades.

1. He genuinely likes you. If they’re good parents, dads can say that they love their children. That almost always comes with the territory. But only when they’re great parents, can dads say that they like their children.

And you can tell that he likes you by the amount of time that he chooses to spend with you.

So what I want you to know is that you are truly blessed. Really and truly. And I believe that God chose you to be his children for a reason. He needs you and you need him, and on this Father’s Day, I am grateful on your behalf for the wonderful man I get to call husband and you get to call Daddy.

We love you, Daddy!

Mommy

Honesty

"Honesty is the best policy."

Undoubtedly, this is a saying that you will hear, and maybe even speak, many times through the course of your lives. It's been around forever, but lately I've been thinking about how often the advice is actually heeded - or not.

I'm listening to a book on CD while in the car. Usually not with you guys because your constant chattering makes it hard to listen to anything but you, and I'd rather talk to you anyway! But when I happen to get away by myself, I listen to this book. Like many other novels, the main character is keeping a major secret from those he has grown close to in the small town where he lives. The secret is eating away at him and, while I haven't finished the book yet, I know that at some point towards the climax of the book, the secret is finally going to be spilled with uncertain consequence.

The thing is, this secret isn't that big of a deal and while I'm enjoying listening to something that doesn't rhyme or doesn't have Mickey Mouse's voice anywhere in it, I'm struggling to figure out why this main character just doesn't come clean with his secret. Or why we all don't.

I am convinced that when something major happens to a person, he needs an outlet to process what's going on. That outlet doesn't necessarily have to be a person - he could start a blog! :) But keeping big things inside and not working through the feelings and effects that are natural part of a life-changing event is just not healthy. Furthermore, depending on what the secret is, keeping it usually only ends up hurting those we love, those who have trusted that they are part of an inner circle where truth reigns.

Don't get me wrong. I think that there is a time and a place for full disclosure. You might not want to walk into your job one day and spill your deepest, darkest secrets to your spouse. You probably shouldn't confide the things you keep closest to your heart to your college roommate on the first day that you meet him.

However, your spouse and those who you have chosen to trust as close friends deserve your honesty. They are expecting it from you as part of the unspoken deal we have with one another when we make relational commitments with one another. And inevitably, it's more painful to have the secret forced out than it is to just put it out there and learn to live with it. And if there's one thing I know, it's that the secret will always come out.

So as you grow, and as you learn to develop deep relationships with one another, with us as your parents, and with people you choose as your friends, remember that honesty still really is the best policy. Some adages actually are true.

Love,
Mommy

You Raise Me Up

Dear Micah and Liam -

When your dad and I were married six years ago, we danced with our parents (me with Pop-Pop, he with Grandma) to Josh Groban's song, "You Raise Me Up". It's such a beautiful song and was so fitting to play as a small thank you to our parents for all that they did to prepare us for one another.

A couple of days ago, I was on the way home from somewhere and had the two of you in the back of the car. Liam was fairly quiet, only speaking up to babble every once in a while. Micah had been pretty silent until this song came on the radio.

When it did, I selfishly wanted to have a moment. I wanted to remember dancing my father, all the feelings of marrying yours, and just feeling like all was right with the world.

I didn't get my moment. Micah, you picked that time to ask all kinds of questions about all different kinds of things. And I started to get frustrated, thinking why couldn't you just stop talking for a few minutes so that I could enjoy the song and live in my memories.

And then it hit me and I had to laugh at myself. I was so busy trying to live in my old memories that I was failing at creating new memories for you. As wonderful as our wedding was, it's over. The symbolism isn't and the beauty of it lingers, but the memory of the day wasn't nearly as important as the memory I was creating with you. Paying attention to you and focusing on you was more important than focusing on me.

Thanks for reminding me to live in the moment, and teaching me once again to live in the moment.

You raise me up so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up to more than I can be.

Love,

Mommy

Leaving You

Dear Micah and Liam -

Some recent national headline news was about a young mother from Ohio. She never returned from a shopping trip one Saturday, and her car was subsequently found in the parking lot of a park near her home with the tires slashed and the keys in the ignition. Soon there was a nationwide hunt for this mother, who had a husband and a one-year-old daughter waiting for her at home. The hope for her safe return faded as more and more time passed.

Several days later, she was found alive. But she wasn't in danger and she wasn't hurt. Instead, she had fled to Florida with a new boyfriend, and simply just walked away from her life. There was nothing and no one preventing her from returning home and seeing her daughter. Instead, she just said she was overwhelmed with life as a working mother, and when her (also married) boyfriend talked about just walking away from it all and driving to Florida, her response was "take me with you."

This story broke my heart for several reasons. The feeling of being trapped and sometimes wanting to just get away are things that, I think, every mother can relate to, especially in the middle of those difficult and repetitive days. Before having the two of you, I had repeatedly heard that motherhood was the most difficult job on earth. Now, having experienced, I believe that it is.

But there is a huge difference between this woman in Ohio and me. Nothing could ever voluntarily keep me from you. Nothing. I could never just walk away from you and look to start a new life somewhere else. Because you are my life. Caring for you and nurturing you and playing with you and helping you become men is my full-time job, and it's the best thing I could ever choose to do with my life.

You're going to worry about a lot of things in life as you get older. You'll worry about homework and playing sports and eventually girls and maybe even where you'll got to college and who you'll marry. But one thing you will never have to worry about is my devotion to you. As long as it is within my power to do so, I will always be there for you. I will always support you. And no matter what, I will always love you.

May you always rest easy knowing that your Mommy is here, and your Mommy will never leave.

Love,
Mommy

Little Moments, Big Picture

Dear Micah and Liam -

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what you will remember from your childhood.

I'm sure there's not a lot that we've done to this point that either of you, especially Liam, would remember since your brains aren't completely capable yet of storing memories. I suppose that's why we take so many pictures - our attempt to freeze time and help you to remember. But I also know that Daddy and I are laying the groundwork for what will hopefully be some wonderful recollections for you in the years to come, training ourselves as to how to create great experiences for you.

At the same time, however, I know that a lot of the things I remember from my childhood weren't the big trips or the grand moments. I remember my dad drying my hair at night after bathtime. I remember decorating cookies in the kitchen at Christmastime, my mom churning them out quicker than Aunt Heidi, Uncle Ryan, my grandmother and I could paint them. I remember lighting sparklers in the backyard, celebrating birthdays, and family card games.

What I am most conscious of with the two of you right now is trying to live in the moment - trying to play trucks or help you walk or teach you how to use a toy or make time for a stroll around the block to point out all the fun stuff like mail trucks and trees and anthills.
What I am afraid of is you remembering the not-so-good moments, where I have been frustrated and lost my cool and yelled at you when I shouldn't have. The moments where, for a variety of reasons none of which had anything to do with you, I wasn't in the mood to be a parent, and that showed in the way that I reacted to something you said or did.

My request is that you forgive the moments of impatience and frustration. You don't have to forget them; they may shape you in a variety of different ways and even if they don't, they are part of your unique experience. But in forgiveness comes redemption, a chance to look at the world through new eyes again.

I am grateful for the chance to start over again today with you, to treat today like the new day that it is, and work on being the best mom I can, because you deserve nothing less.

And I hope that one day, when you're grown, you can look back on your childhood and have a few really cherished memories of what it was like to grow up in our family.

Love,
Mommy

Unique Perspectives Rock

Dear Micah and Liam -

One of my favorite things about being your mom is watching you grow and change around the clock. Sometimes I feel like you go to bed one person and you wake up another, older, wiser person. Even you, Liam, as a baby are changing so much right before our eyes. You're taking more and more steps every day and demonstrating your independence along with your toddling abilities. Soon you'll be running everywhere and we won't be able to keep up!

Micah, tonight you called me into your room a few minutes after Daddy had turned out the light. You have this thing lately, ever since we had a bad storm in the not-so-distant past, where you think you see lightning flashes out your window and it scares you a little. Reassurance comes when you and I go out on the porch to see if we can see the lightning together. I think being together and me holding you makes you feel safe, and you even enjoy the flashes of light.

So I picked you up in my arms and we went out on the porch. It's so humid already, even though it's only May 3, but the night was clear. Then we had the following conversation:

Micah: "I don't see any lightning. The stars are on!"
Mommy: "Yes, all the stars are on."
Micah: "No thunder tonight."
Mommy: "No, I don't hear any thunder."
Micah: "Maybe the thunder is at the mall. I hear it there with my ears."
Mommy: "We did hear it there with our ears a few weeks ago."
Micah: "Maybe that's a good idea."

A few reasons I will always cherish this conversation between the two of us.
1. Who but a child can look at the night sky and remark that the stars are on? I never thought of it that way, but you're right. One minute you can't see them and the next you can, just like turning on a light.
2. "Hearing with my ears." This was a phrase I started using at Christmastime. I was trying to differentiate between you watching Mickey Mouse on the computer and listening to your Mickey CD. You understood ears and eyes at the time, but not the concept of hearing and seeing. So I would tell you when we were in the car that we were going to listen to Mickey with your ears. Now, when you're listening for anything in particular, you always "Hear it with your ears".
3. We were indeed at the mall with Grandma a few weeks ago when one of the big storms hit. I think that's when you really got your first memorable taste of thunder and lightning, so now you seem to always associate the mall with the bad weather. To me, it's priceless that you somehow think that the thunder and lightning live at the mall.
4. "Maybe that's a good idea." We've been trying to get you to understand the difference between things you're supposed to do (good ideas) and things you're not supposed to do (bad ideas). "Maybe that's a good idea" or "Maybe that's a bad idea" are now your favorite phrases and you use them at really funny times, like tonight when you're talking about it being a good idea that the lightning and thunder live at the mall.

Micah, your two-and-a-half-year-old perspective is such a joy to experience. While I know that you are growing up and will soon stop expressing things in such a unique way, I hope that you are never afraid to have a different perspective and communicate it. Because the world is so boring when everyone falls into line behind one another and everyone wears the same color and everyone has the same opinion and everyone is afraid of their own unique spirit.

Don't be afraid. Be you. Always be you. Because you are already one of the most interesting people I have ever met and the world would be a much darker place without your unique spirit.


Love,
Mommy

Love never goes out of style

Dear Micah and Liam -

I've been thinking a lot about kindness lately. Too often, more often than I'd like to admit, I get frustrated and impatient with people and forget what the Bible teaches about the two main rules by which we are to live our lives.

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." Matthew 22:36-40

On the surface, it seems so simple. I love God, and I love myself. What's so hard about loving someone else the way that I know I need to be loved?

I used to think that the problem lay in other people. If other people weren't so crazy, so picky, so close-minded, so oblivious, so mean, so you-fill-in-the-blank, I would be happy to love them. Why were they making it so hard for me to do as God requires?

A few years ago, out of the blue, it hit me: the problem is me. The love God offers me is unconditional. I'm fortunate enough to be able to say that the love I offer myself is, largely, unconditional. The love I need to offer others should be unconditional.

I learned this lesson while I was working in ministry a few years ago. I came to know a woman who was difficult to love. She had some mental difficulties that led to some social disorders, and she was generally a tough person to be around. She tended to have no filter and paid no attention to how her comments affected others. Her presence was threatening the health and vitality of the ministry I was leading.

I will admit that I was tired of dealing with her. Several people that I confided in about her had encouraged me to part ways with her, and disallow her from being part of the ministry I led. But something kept me from making that final cut. Then one day as I was pondering how to handle her, I realized what was going on. God had placed this person in my life to teach me about love. And in that moment, when I had that realization, I looked at this woman and, as she was making nonsensical statements, I literally saw the face of Jesus in her, and it occurred to me that Jesus loves her. Jesus loves her as much as he loves me.

It was, to say it mildly, a turning point in my life.

If Jesus loved her as much as Jesus loves me, than I am called to nothing less than loving her as well. And I can honestly say that I do. It wasn't an instantaneous love, but I committed to working on it and, over time, I grew to love this woman. I wasn't always happy about the things that she did, but I saw her in a new light - one of love.

Ever since then, I try to focus on loving others. I see other people differently. I feel like I know them better. I may not always succeed, but I can honestly say that I'm trying to do everything in love. I believe God is softening my soul, and teaching me how to love. I pray that you will know this love too - the unconditional kind God offers, and the incredible kind you can learn to offer the world.

Love,
Mommy

Resistance is good

Dear Micah and Liam -

I began working out again recently. Before Micah was born, actually while I was unknowingly pregnant with him, I ran a marathon. Well, "run" might be a stretch as our time didn't set the running world on fire, but I jogged a lot of it and I completed it. I think it's fair to say that going 26.2 miles qualifies me as being in good shape.

But when I was pregnant with first Micah and then Liam, I stopped exercising pretty much altogether. Not a great idea. So now I'm working hard to get myself back into shape. I want to feel good about myself, but I also want to do all that is within my power to try to be around for you guys as you get older.

One of my new challenges is a spinning class. I've been taking them for a few weeks now, and they are a good, sweaty workout. I was doing okay with endurance drills and RPMs, but I got hung up every time on being able to stand and ride on the bike. It seemed impossible to me and I would look around the room and try to figure out how all of these people were doing it.

So yesterday, I went up to the instructor after class and asked her about it, really wondering how long it would take me to be in good enough shape to do what the rest of the class was doing. She kindly and politely explained to me that I was probably doing it wrong. We sat on bikes next to each other and she talked to me about the resistance levels on the bike.

Turns out, I was doing it wrong. I was assuming that because I was inexperience on the bike, I should keep the resistance level to a minimum until I worked my way up to the higher lever. In actuality, what you're supposed to do, especially while trying to stand and pedal, is keep the resistance at a higher level. When the resistance is low, the bike is harder to control and the rider ends up doing all the work and trying to lift her entire body weight on her own with each rotation of the pedals. When the resistance is high, the bike actually takes on a lot of the work and supports the rider better, making it easier, despite the tension in the wheels, to control the bike and maintain a standing position.

As I drove away from the gym that morning, I found myself thinking what a great parallel that concept is to our life of faith. When we are trying to do life on our own, going out of our way to avoid resistance and anything that we perceive will make our effort harder, we end up refusing help, doing almost everything on our own, and ultimately making our daily living much harder.

When we allow for some resistance and welcome the challenges, however, we must choose to give up control. We admit that we can't do it on our own, and we accept help and support that ends up making our journey easier rather than harder. The resistance is critical to building up our energy and strengthening us, thus enabling us to face bigger challenges as they come.

But we can't do it alone. We're not just giving up control, we're specifically giving up control to God. It's a hard lesson to learn for me, your dad, and anyone who has a strong streak of independence in them, as I suspect the two of you will too, as the early signs of it are already there. But we can't live a full life of faith without allowing God to take over and carry us through. And life really isn't experience to the fullest unless we do.

Love,
Mommy

Why I'm doing this

Dear Micah and Liam -

The idea of writing to you regularly popped into my head one day. As I'm going about my day, I'm always thinking about the different things that I want to teach you, the different things I would want you to know. Sometimes, during the course of our lives, everything gets so busy and hectic that I worry so much about the bigger picture - you know, like keeping you alive and in one piece! - that the stuff that seems smaller in the grand scheme falls by the wayside. I'm attempting to correct that before you're grown and out of the house. I say that with only a little bit of sarcasm, for I know that will happen all too quickly.

So I will write to keep from neglecting to make sure I instill in you the sense that life always has something to teach us. I have a suspicion that I will end up teaching myself as much as I am hoping to teach you.

I'm looking forward to it.

Love Always,
Mommy