This morning, as the coffee machine beeps and I shuffle toward it, I see a flash of orange on the counter. It's the bracelet that I asked Tim to buy for me at his school yesterday. The one that says, "Team Amelia KHS Loves You!" I open the package and slip it on my wrist and look around the kitchen and smile.  "Team." I get to be part of the team. 

As I reach for a coffee cup in the cupboard, my hand goes toward the shiny white mug with the picture of an old fashioned camera and the word, "Smile," in black, and I do. I smile and I think about the friend who gave it (and so much more) to me. I am on her team and she is on mine. 

I pour the rich, dark coffee and I pray, once again, for the family that particular brand of coffee reminds me of, the ones who live over the hill and down the street who are like parents and dear friends all rolled into one for me and mine (and for so many others). I am on their team and they are on mine.

As I move toward the living room, coffee in hand, I see a jar of rice left there by the young man who is sharing our home with us for a few months, as several dear ones have done before him. I remember each one who has slept down the hall from us and our son and filled our home with laughter and younger, fresher ways of thinking and I grin. I am on their team and they are on mine.

I sit on the sofa and out of the corner of my eye I see a card, mailed to my husband by a member of our church, with cursive handwriting (and stickers) thanking him for his recent message and his service.  This church of ours - We are on their team and they are on ours.

I sip my coffee and open up a workbook for a study on the topic of "Living Beyond Yourself," the author of which I have never met, but whose words have sunk deep into my soul for decades. I breathe out gratitude for her many gifts. She is on my team and I am on hers.

I take my pen in hand and remember that the reason I am going through this particular workbook at this season of life is because I am doing so in tandem with a new friend. Someone who entered my life in an unexpected way as our circles of friends rotated around one another for months before we finally collided. It was meant to be. I am on her team and she is on mine.

I open Facebook on my laptop and see so many faces and words from those who have crossed my path over the last 43 years. Several brave women with beautiful bald heads tackling cancer one day at a time. Babies galore, captured by their moms and dads, laughing, eating, babbling and reaching milestones one by one. Friends, young and old, commenting from overseas, from Arizona, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Virginia, Washington DC, Oregon, California, New Mexico, Idaho, Texas, Georgia, Massachusetts, Florida, Oklahoma, Montana, Indiana, Washington State, Nevada, Utah, Minnesota, Michigan... I'm starting to think it would be easier to note where they are NOT from. You are on my team and I am on yours.

I close my computer and head downstairs to rotate the laundry from the washer to the dryer and I glance at photos of our around-the-corner neighbors taped to our wall. Each face reminding me how glad I am that they are there, so very close by and that they hold the spare key - to our home and to our hearts. They are on our team and we are on theirs.

As my hands reach for the laundry I see that flash of orange again and I join with Team Amelia and pray that the cancer in her body dies - quickly and fully.  I thank God that I get to be on her team and that she and her family are very much on mine. 

It's all team work. 

I took this picture this morning on our back deck.  Isn't it lovely? Our family is so blessed to live in this home and to have this gorgeous view to wake up to each and every morning.   But here's the thing... We've lived here for a full year and I just started sitting on the deck and enjoying the view four days ago. WHY? Why did I wait an entire year?  Believe me, I've been asking myself that question all week.  The answer is a lifelong lesson in the making for me.  Bear with me as I bring you up to speed...

When Jason and I met, I was living in my first ever apartment in Southern California. I'd gone from sharing a dorm room in college in Tucson -  to sharing a tent in Yosemite, the summer after graduation - to sharing a 100 year old house with seven other women during an internship in Connecticut - to having that two bedroom, two bath apartment with cathedral ceilings and a little balcony all to myself.  With all of that space to live in and enjoy, with no one to compromise with and no one else's decorating opinions to consider, you'd think I would have gone wild with personal expression and creativity, but I didn't. In fact, I didn't do much of anything with that space beyond fill it with a few pieces of hand-me-down furniture. After Jason and I got married, less than a year later, he moved into the apartment with me and everything changed. The day he moved in, I had a single solitary item hanging on those soaring white walls - a plain white plastic clock the size of a dinner plate.  Jason called it sparse. I called it minimalist.

​Within a few weeks I agreed to hang a few pieces of his art and some photos on the wall. The next thing I knew he had a hodgepodge of hang-able things spread out on the floor and sofa putting them together into an arrangement to hang on the wall. There were at least 12 things. TWELVE THINGS ON ONE WALL. I almost had to leave the apartment. Not because I don't like tasteful collections of beautiful things on display... I really, really do. They make a house a home. But I don't know how to put them together and make them look good and I panicked that it would look an awful mess when all was said and done.  Jason kept asking my opinion..."Should this go here or here? Do you like this better or this?" To which I would stare, furrow my brow, squirm and frantically say, "I DON'T KNOW!"  I finally had to leave the apartment because the process was stressing me out so much.  (That is embarrassing for me to admit.)  When I came back, he had a tasteful collage of pictures and other decor hanging on the wall and I sighed in relief. 

Why did that selective process bother me so much? Because I couldn't guarantee that it would look good in the end... I couldn't guarantee the outcome would be appealing because I don't have confidence in my artistic eye. I would rather live in a white walled wasteland than second guess my decisions or risk a less than perfect result.  It should be perfect.  I thought.  Or not at all.

Fast forward 19 years to last summer. We bought a lovely home on a hill overlooking a beautiful valley and lake in the shadow of an inactive volcano in Northern California.  TO DIE FOR.  I love it and enjoy it so much.  The best part of the house is the view through the windows and from the deck.  You would think priority number one after moving in would be finding deck furniture, right? I've never bought outdoor furniture before. I immediately went into over-analysis mode at the thought and couldn't choose. I've tried to purchase a couple of simple wicker or metal chairs with cushions on more than one occasion, but I couldn't bear to spend the money not knowing if they would look 100% perfect on our deck or if they would be comfortable enough or durable enough or the right size, etc.  So we've spent a year of sunrises and sunsets inside.  

Last weekend, my guys left on an epic road trip adventure and I was in Target alone shopping for myself...splurging a bit. A new water bottle, a new pair of pajamas, a book.  While I was in that mindset of thinking about simple things that I would enjoy while I was on my own I came across the aisle filled with things hopeful high school grads buy for their dorm rooms. There was a black, overstuffed folding chair that caught my attention right away. I pulled it into the center of the aisle and unfolded it and sat down. HUH. It was actually comfortable. It was small, but cozy and I could pull my feet up in it and be quite relaxed.  My mind immediately went to our deck and without allowing my brain to begin listing all the reasons that this was NOT the perfect choice for our deck (It really, really isn't) I picked it up and put it in the cart and sped down the aisle toward the registers before I could talk sense into myself. 

When I got home, I vowed that now that I had a chair to sit in outside, I would set my alarm 12 minutes earlier each day and get up and spend time reading and drinking my morning coffee on the deck while the sun rose over the lake.  The first morning I was nervous.  This was not the perfect deck furniture and there are loud barky dogs next door and sometimes there is bird poop on the deck or the railing and how dressed for the day does one have to be to sit on their back deck when their neighbors could potentially see them (are pajama pants and tank tops acceptable?). There were so many unknowns and imperfections about this. But I took my new chair, my coffee and my book, and a pen and my phone (in case the sunrise was too stunning not to document... see above) and I went out on the deck at 6:10 a.m.

I've been out there every morning since and heaven help anyone who tries to get between me and that deck in the mornings from here on out! Best. Part. Of. The. Day. Hands down.

All those wasted mornings not feeling the cool morning air on my skin, not being dazzled by the first bright rays of light coming up over the mountains, not thoroughly enjoying the gift God had given me. Why? Because I couldn't make it "perfect." As if the most expensive, "appropriate" outdoor patio set could improve that stunning view and the way that it makes me feel in the slightest bit!

Well let me show you what perfect looks like to me now: A $30 folding chair from Target and my son's old bathmat to rest my feet on.   

There it is folks. Absolute perfection. Every single morning.  That impractical, inexpensive chair is my happy place and my latest lesson learned. 

I will no longer settle for putting off the enjoyment of a gift until everything is just so and the situation feels worthy and appropriate. A gift is a gift and it is meant to be enjoyed. 

​Now... to hang something on these walls.

In 2016 I didn't type a single word into this blog space. Not one.  I didn't share wisdom or laughter or random thoughts. I was running on empty quite a bit and nothing seemed certain or steady, so sharing felt risky. I usually sit down in front of this screen and I don't actually know what I'm going to write about until the blog post is finished and then I sit back and go, "Huh. I didn't realize that was in my head/heart."  So when I suspect that what is in my head/heart is muddled and off kilter... I am prone to avoid writing altogether because I'm afraid of what I might learn.

I'm sitting here now, nearly halfway through 2017, and  I am ready to start again. This space has never been a traditional "blog" to me. I don't promote it or use search engine optimization or pay a bit of attention to the stats.  I think I tried to once or twice because it felt like I was "supposed to," but once I turned 40 those sorts of life rules didn't have the same claim on me as they once did. (There are benefits to aging!) Are other people reading this? I have no idea. But I know that when I take the time to write, I'm better off for it. My head is clearer. My life makes more sense. I'm grounded.  How strange to be grounded in cyberspace.

So what needs to come out of my head/heart now and onto this "page?"  Let's find out... I'm just as curious as you are.

I've been sick with a nasty cold for the past few days and my plans have been turned upside down. Instead of parties and trips (planned), it has been bathrobe and bed and tissues and medicine (unplanned).  As I now stare down the beginning of another week and the need to return to work and a normal schedule, I'm somehow grateful for the last five days of interrupted plans.

There is nothing like an interruption to get my attention. As I plan and prepare (constantly) and expect things to go a certain way, I inadvertently stop paying close attention to the here and now.  And I miss opportunities to be grateful. To be blessed.  I allow striving and a heart discontent with the myriad of minor interruptions that accumulate along the way threaten my peace and my sense of purpose. I find myself restless and unsettled, but unsure as to why.  <Insert a major multi-day plan-interrupter here.>  I always hate major disruptions at the outset, but somewhere deep inside, I also feel relief. Does that make sense?  I never want to be sick or to have an accident or crisis. Never. I actively try to avoid all of these things. And yet, these are the things (sickness, accidents, crises) that give me societal permission to stop striving. So somewhere in my soul I welcome them and heave a strange sigh of relief when they do their priority-clarifying work.

I realize that this is an unhealthy way to go through life.  It sometimes takes physical illness to reveal soul sickness. In the early days of 2017, I claimed the word "SERVE" as my motto for the year. I imagined a year full of pouring myself out, unselfishly, to my family and friends. I am now reminded, almost mid-way through the year, that when a pitcher is full, it doesn't have to be turned upside down in order to pour out, only slightly tilted.   The emptier I allow my spirit to become (through striving and pushing and making constant preparations), the more upside down and out of balance I feel when I try to serve... to pour out.  Living - alive and awake - in the moment, holding my plans loosely, seeking the face of God daily and trusting Him with all things is filling. These practices are mine to embrace or ignore, but they are what will fill me up.  And life wasn't meant to run on empty.

"...Be still (cease striving), and know that I am God..." -  Psalm 46:10

Earlier this week I clicked on an article on the Washington Post website about the newly designed office space at the Facebook headquarters.  We recently went through a remodel at my own office and the whole concept of an open-office was a hotly debated topic during the planning process.  The Facebook headquarters workspace is basically a (VERY) large open warehouse with desks, chairs, filing cabinets, and meeting rooms. Everyone can see what everyone else is up to.  There is very little privacy. Even the CEO and founder, Mark Zuckerberg, does not have an office!  I was mentally shaking my head at this concept... there is a reason for offices, a reason for privacy in the workplace; do we really need to add a new, cool, hipster vibe to something that is working well already?  As I flipped through the pictures and imagined myself trying to work in that type of environment, I came across a quote from Lori Goler, Facebook's vice president of people.  She said this of the open, rough-edged environment, "It's intended to be a symbol of what we believe at Facebook, which is that our work is unfinished."

The look of the facility was meant to demonstrate one of their core values, that their work is undone, that it will always be undone.  That there are always ways to improve and add more value to the service they provide to the world.  That made me pause.  

I spend much of my life trying to "be done" or at least APPEAR done. To have it all together.  Do I really believe that is an achievable goal? No, not really.  I wish it were.  Yet, I fashion my life and my outward representation of it in order for it to have a look of "doneness" about it.  Just like a big company that has made lots of money and uses a portion of it to install marble floors and a mahogany receptionist desk, valuable artwork and high-end furniture to show people that they can be trusted, because, clearly they've done something right in the past to arrive at this current state of glory.  

"It's intended to be a symbol of what we believe at Facebook, which is that our work is unfinished."  I think I need to find ways to incorporate symbols of this belief in my own life... to remind myself and others that I have not arrived and I don't believe I ever will, that I am a work in progress, that I am striving toward something greater than myself and it is worth the effort. My life should not resemble a highly polished memorial to all I've accomplished, it should look like a beehive of activity where each new day brings the opportunity to step out and attempt one more time to live what I believe in new ways and see how God uses that to impact the world.

PS - I still don't want to work in an open office environment.

When the weather is nice, not too hot and not too cold, and not particularly windy, rainy or snowy,  I get off the bus several stops early on my way to work and walk the rest of the way to the office. I pass by the headquarters of the American Red Cross and then I walk across 17th Street and hang a left.  That intersection serves as an entrance to the White House and there are always Secret Service agents manning the gate.  Typically, I simply nod and smile or say good morning and they return the greeting.  One day last week, however, our interaction was a bit different and I can't stop thinking about it.  

After I crossed 17th street, I needed to walk in front of the guard shack that leads to the White House entrance, but a series of black SUV's with tinted windows were pulling through the gate one after another.  I stood still, waiting, not sure whether to cross in between the vehicles or wait.  I eventually took a tentative step forward and the young Secret Service agent who was standing outside the guard shack looked me square in the eye, smiled and said, "Go right ahead.  Don't worry; I'll keep you safe."  He wasn't being patronizing and he certainly wasn't flirting. He was 100% sincere.  He saw my apprehension and he reassured me.  And I believed him.  I stepped into the fray and crossed as he kept a watchful eye and the SUVs at bay.  I walked the rest of the way to work that day with a lightness that I hadn't felt previously.  It is reassuring to know that there are people who will stand in the gap for you, stare down the danger and take it on for you so that you can get where you need to go safely. It made me grateful for public servants of all kinds: police officers, military personnel, firefighters, and the like.  More than that, it made me thankful for my God.  


If someone wanted to run me down in their car that day, they could have.  I don't know if the Secret Service agent could have stopped them or not, but he was willing to take responsibility for getting me safely from where I was to where I was headed and that is a very God-like thing to do. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend," John 15:13 KJV.  He was willing to take the burden of my safety upon himself, assuring that I would get to the other side in one piece, and I let him.  
Meanwhile, my God offers to take the responsibility for the eternal safety of my soul upon Himself and when I let Him, no one and nothing can ever harm me... not the real me, not the eternal me.  I will most assuredly reach my final destination. "And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand. I and my Father are one." John 10:28-30 KJV.  That sounds an awful lot to me like the ultimate, "Don't worry; I'll keep you safe."  And I believe Him.

When our wants are polar opposite, our hearts are divided. The resulting heart-strain is inevitable and it cannot go on forever.  One desire has to win out over the other, or both must be released for the sake of something greater.  This morning I read Psalm 86:11, "Teach me Thy way O Lord; I will walk in Thy truth. Unite my heart to fear Thy name." 
Unite my heart to fear Thy name. In those situations when our heart is divided - we want THIS, but find ourselves doing THAT, or we want THING A when we are in SETTING A, but when we find ourselves in SETTING B we couldn't care less about THING A - those are the times we need a spiritual reality check.  A house divided against itself cannot stand - That isn't just an Abraham Lincoln quote, it is a Jesus Christ quote.  
Not only can a divided heart not persist, but a divided church cannot either.  Charles Spurgeon described it this way in his sermon on September 25, 1859, "It is one grand and grievous fault with the church of Christ at the present day, that it is not merely divided somewhat in its creed, and somewhat also in its practice of the ordinances, but alas, it is also somewhat divided in heart. When the differences are of such a character, that as people of God we can still love each other, and still unite in the common battle against the cause of evil and in the common end of building up the church, then there is but little that is faulty. But when our doctrinal divisions grow to so great a head that we cease to co-operate; when our opinions upon mere ordinances become so acid towards each other, that we can no longer extend the right hand of fellowship to those who differ from us, then indeed is the church of God found faulty."

So what is the cure for division? Whether it is within our own hearts or within the collective heart of a people?  God is our only hope.  We are naturally bent toward division and it is the Holy Spirit of God alone who can reconcile. This prayer of David, "Unite my heart to fear Thy name," can be our guide as we pray.  The goal of a unified heart isn't to alleviate pain, it is to see proper function and prosperity restored. When the pieces of a machine work against each other rather than with each other in harmony, the machine breaks down and no profitable work is accomplished.  The same is true in our hearts and amongst us.  We are capable of bringing about amazing good in the world when unity is restored.  God is the only force in the world that can completely control us without destroying us.  To give way to any other thing that promises unity or a higher purpose for our actions is to open the door to eventual pain and a further dividing of our hearts.  The cure for a divided heart begins with a prayer that puts the warring desires on the table before a God worthy of praise, adoration, and devotion, seeing each desire as subservient to Him and His purposes.  Then, to stand back and see what He does with them and with us. Rest assured. It's gonna be good.

If you have attended Christian worship services or read the Bible with any frequency, you've heard the phrase, "Wait on the Lord."  It is an ongoing refrain in Christian hymns, in the Psalms, and throughout the Bible and you just can't miss it.  So what does it mean? How do you wait? How long do you wait? Why do you wait? Why is this such a consistently repeated message? I don't claim to know the answers to all of those questions, even though my family has gone through a long season of what feels like waiting, I don't claim to be an expert.  Even so, today I read something that leapt off the page at me and helped me to get a handle on at least a portion of this concept.

Psalm 25:3A, 21: "Indeed none of those who wait for Thee will be ashamed.  Let integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for Thee." NASB

I was reading from a study Bible that has cross-references and a Hebrew/Greek concordance in the back to serve as a reference and help the reader get more information about each verse and to parse out specific words.  When I came across the words "wait for," they were underlined and in bold indicating that the Hebrew word that had been translated as "wait for" in this verse could be looked up in the back reference section of this Bible.  I got excited!  Maybe there would be something there that would help me better understand this concept and my current season of life.  Here is what I found:

"Wait for" comes from the root Hebrew word, qavah (kaw-vaw).  It means to bind together by twisting around and is translated as "wait for", "hope for", or "look for" in the Bible 44 times.  If qavah, the root word, is any indicator itself of how we should think about waiting for the Lord, then waiting on God isn't standing alone in a barren place, patiently allowing the elements to batter us until He decides to move on our behalf (which is how I've often viewed it, even if I'd never say that out loud).  No, if waiting is qavah, it is an active thing - making Christ the center of our thoughts, our actions, our decisions and circling back around Him continually, again and again, like binding together a rope. It means "depending on" and "ordering our activities around a future event or hope." (Strong's concordance)

I don't know if that strikes a chord with you, but it is an eye opener for me.  In a season of waiting, we are not helpless, hopeless people awaiting miraculous intervention.  We can and should be active, hope-filled people continually circling around Christ in expectation.  Coming back to His Word, His ways, His Truth again and again, like an airplane circling the runway until it is clear to come in for a safe landing.  All this circling isn't wasting time - it is space given to shift focus from the desired outcome to the One who holds the future. It is also strength-building. The more times cords are wrapped around each other to make a rope, the stronger the rope becomes.  I am starting to think that is what waiting on the Lord is all about - it is an active time of strengthening, drawing closer to God, re-orienting our thoughts, attitudes and actions around the source of our hope until the day comes when it is time to move and we find ourselves so wrapped up in Him that we can't help but follow.

With that in mind, these verses come alive in a different way:
Psalm 27:14 Wait on the Lord; be of good courage and he shall strengthen your heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord.
Psalm 69:6  Let not them that wait on thee, O Lord GOD of hosts, be ashamed for my sake: let not those that seek thee be confounded for my sake, O God of Israel.
Isaiah 40:31 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary and they shall walk and not faint. 
Lamentations 3:25 The Lord is good to them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeks Him. 
Hosea 12:16 Therefore turn to your God; keep mercy and judgment, and wait on you God continually. 

Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord

Today is the big 4-0.  Here are the top 20 lessons I've learned between ages 20 and 40.  Hopefully I don't have to relearn them between 40 and 60!  Here's to learning many more new lessons as the years go by.

Twenty - You can think that what you have is perfect and you can plan the rest of your life around it.  You can imagine a future that is picture perfect and it can all be gone in an instant.  Better to plan your life around truth, character, and faith in God than around any one person, goal or achievement.
Twenty-One - It is good to have friends who you can trust, enjoy and laugh with.  They are worth searching for and they are worth celebrating and valuing when you find them.
Twenty-Two - Go for it!  Take a chance!  Risk, within the boundaries of God's goodness, is a boon to growth and is bound to make memories that last a lifetime.
Twenty-Three - However far you go in one romantic relationship (physically, emotionally, spiritually) will determine where you are likely to want to start from in your next romantic relationship.  It is a snowball effect that can lead you to jumping in with both feet when you don't really know someone well. Tread carefully.  The right partner is worth the wait in all aspects.
Twenty-Four - Be open to job opportunities outside of your area of education or expertise.  There is much to learn and many skills cross over between fields.  
Twenty-Five - When you think that your past experience is going to dictate your future, you are trusting in your own limited understanding.  Leave room for God, the author and perfecter of your faith, to write your story and allow yourself to wait breathlessly for the next page to turn.
Twenty-Six - A baby is always good news.  Always.
Twenty-Seven - Exhaustion can teach us lessons that we cannot learn otherwise.  Let it drive you to God and to those who are able and willing to help you.  Self-reliance will only get you so far.  Learn how to rest and how to share a load.
Twenty-Eight - Parenting is all about humility.  Children do not care about your reputation.  
Twenty-Nine - When something is a priority to you, you will make a way.  If there seems to be no way, pray and ask God to purify your priorities and help you reorient your life.
Thirty - Regularly meeting together with a group of people who share your faith, but may be completely different from you in every other way is a taste of heaven.  Look for it and dive in head first don't give a second thought to the temperature of the water or whether your bathing suit is appropriate.
Thirty-One - Leaving something that has been good in the past because it is becoming truly dangerous to you or others requires great strength and unswerving commitment to doing the right thing.  It is worth it.  Leave.
Thirty-Two - Starting over in a new place is hard, but doable.
Thirty-Three - If you seek Him, God will meet you in the most special and personal ways.  Truly He knows you better than you know yourself.
Thirty-Four - Money isn't everything.  
Thirty-Five - Changing course mid-stream is never efficient or comfortable, but sometimes it is absolutely necessary.  Don't be afraid; fear wastes energy that you'll need to persevere.
Thirty-Six - Mentoring can change your life just as much as the lives of those you are pouring into.  Keep your eyes open for someone younger than you who you can walk through life with.  You'll both benefit.
Thirty-Seven - There are thousands of children in foster care in our country today.  It requires less than you think to bless them and help them retain their sense of safety and self.  Open your home when the opportunity allows, and support those who are doing so when you cannot.  It is worth every sacrifice.
Thirty-Eight - You can sit through a completely devastating moment in time and come out the other side a fighter.  You can be embarrassed, humiliated, brought lower than low and still keep your head held high.  God is bigger and His plan for you cannot be thwarted. Learn what you need to learn in that low moment.  Keep your character intact throughout.
Thirty-Nine - There is beauty in big cities and in rural communities.  Do not be intimidated by what you do not know.  Recognize that what you have to offer is valid no matter your surroundings.
Forty - God is good.  He is faithful.  He will provide just what you need at the moment of your greatest need. Believe Him when He gives it to you and watch what happens.

The longer I live, the more I am in awe of the mystery of the human soul.  This eternal part of each of us that somehow instinctively knows that the ways of this world are completely out of whack and that we were made for more.  This part of us that seeks the hard road rather than the easy road because it knows that something worth fighting for is its own reward and so much more valuable than any simple pleasure easily attained. This inner life that, when we will be still and quiet and humble, can commune with our Creator God and be restored no matter how wayward it has become.  The Bible tells us that it is the Spirit of God himself that woos each and every soul to Himself.  It also says that we can grieve that Spirit and quench its power in our lives if we ignore it long enough.  I know of no greater tragedy.

I am currently reading a book called In God's Underground, written by Richard Wurmbrand, a Lutheran minister during the dark days of communist rule in Romania.  He was put in prison for his faith more than once during that time.  The first stint was for 9 years.  He went into prison and his one and only son was a 9-year old boy.  He came out of prison to be introduced to his son, the 18 year old man, without being allowed a single visit from him during those years.  Such a loss of years and time, and yet God had preserved both of their souls exquisitely.  On the night of his unexpected return from prison (they simply opened the gates and let him go one day) his son, Mihai, said to him, "Father, you've gone through so much. I want to know what you've learned from all your sufferings."  Wurmbrand put his arm around his grown son and said, "Mihai, I've nearly forgotten my Bible in all this time. But four things were always in my mind. First, that there is a God. Secondly, Christ is our Savior. Thirdly, there is eternal life. And fourthly, love is the best of ways."  My son said, "That was all I wanted." Later he told his father that he had decided to become a pastor.  Two souls who had gone through so much heartache and pain, poverty and suffering - but perfectly sustained and more beautiful than they were at the beginning.

Once Wurmbrand had settled back in with his family at his very meager home in the attic of a building owned by another (their house had been taken by the government when he went to prison), he said, "Now that I was free, I longed in the depths of my heart for quietness and rest. But communism was working everywhere to complete the destruction of the Church. The peace I desired would have been an escape from reality and dangerous for my soul."  It is only God who can put such depth into the human soul.  Such selflessness is actually soulfulness!  Denying the self for the benefit of the eternal soul.  This is not harmful or sadistic, this is exchanging the temporal for the eternal and it is wise beyond earth's wisdom.  When everything in us and everyone around us is telling us that retirement from the cause is in order - you've done enough - surely someone else can take up the torch now. To have a soul that knows that its very existence is owed to a Savior who did not stop until the fight was won.  To have a soul that knows that it will be sustained by God through far worse than the mind or heart believe it to be able to bear.  To have a soul that seeks to grow and expand and draw closer to the God who created it and wooed it from the beginning.  To have a soul that trusts in the reality of the perfect plan and the power of God more than in the temporal realities it can see and feel.

This is the goal.  What interesting, mysterious, paradoxical ways God can and does bring it about in each of us.
May I never curse my circumstances without first examining their soil for soul-growth properties.  It could be that what the world calls prison, my soul recognizes as true freedom.

Isaiah 46:4 NIV, "Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

So it is back to school time and little Johnny/Susie is a year older and that means a new grade... a scary grade.  At least for you, the parent.  Perhaps you were up last night, a bundle of nerves.  Hoping for the right teacher(s) and the right friends.  Praying for a good first day.  (Not you home school parents, naturally - you know exactly what your kiddo has in store this year and it is all up to you!  No pressure. I was once one of you.)  Well, I thought it would be a good opportunity to give you some advice.  I do have all of one child, mind you. And this one child did better in French last semester than any other class he had on his schedule.  French is, mind you, the only subject his father and I know nothing about.  So clearly, he is thriving at school because of our actions, and we are qualified to dispense advice.

So here you go, free of charge.  The top three ways to deal with back to school parent jitters.
1. Emotionally.  Be an emotional wreck.  Just give in to it.  Wail and moan.  Freak out.  Go from one extreme to the other in the span of 3 minutes.  Take a million and one pictures, sit on their beds and lament that they are growing up too soon.  Then eat your feelings.  Then shift blame.  "Wait a minute, I've done everything I could possibly do for this child.  If he/she doesn't thrive in this new grade, it is pretty much his/her fault!  That's right.  I packed the bento box with just the right balance of carbs and protein. I provided hydration options.  I went back to school clothing shopping at the mall with every other human being on the planet at the same time.  What's wrong with this kid?"  All of these emotions should be experienced and resolved prior to 3:00 p.m. when junior gets off the bus in the afternoon.  This is a viable option.  Not a good option, but a viable one. 
2. Physically. Just go to school with them.  You know you want to.  Sit next to her.  Point out when she could be doing better. Make sure the teacher notices how bright she is.  Suggest appropriate friendships and then take the initiative to introduce her to them. Sit by her at lunch and continually stroke her hair.  If she is in high school, she will be particularly pleased by this. This is a viable option. Not a good one, but a viable one.
3. Spiritually.  Read this blog post I wrote last summer. Consider what the worst possible scenario really is and then let the God of the universe work in your heart to alleviate your fears and put a song of praise in your mouth.  This is a viable option.  A hard one, but a good one.

HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!