Sometimes it’s a bucket list. Sometimes it’s a chore list. This summer, for us, it’s a checklist.
We woke up to the first day of summer break last week and after all the goodness that the end of the school year brought, it was a welcomed break. However, moments into that glorious reprieve, almost immediately upon waking and realizing what opportunity lay before them, my kids asked for a show.
As much as I like a good soft morning wake up and cuddle, while they can relax and I can continue to write, the thought of spending each morning doing that first just didn’t sit quite right with me. Trust me, I love be cozy in the morning, too . But I couldn’t quite stomach the thought of that being our daily, morning go-to. It makes it harder yo get started sometimes and I wanted less hoops to jump over , especially if they might end up making things harder in the long run (as screens tend to do.)
So before I even had time to think about it, a few simple ideas and a phrase flew out of my mouth, and thus became our mantra for summer.
Before screens, first take some time to make something, time to play something, read something, and pray something.
Now I’m not going to lie. I’m not this smart, so I think it was a God idea. And I have to admit, it was a very good one. Quickly we are seeing the benefits.
How do we make it work? Well first of all, I’m not going to, at any point, “time” any of this. It’s not supposed to be rigid or strict. This is about creating space, not creating stress.
As far as the reading goes, they will be tracking minutes for a library fun challenge. They can use this morning time to add to those minutes, but there’s no part of this morning routine that requires you to hit a certain mark. It’s more about cracking open a book as a habit and a default rather than a screen. They can read a chapter, or a paragraph, together or alone, out loud or in their own head. The point isn’t about the quantity, the point is to start with some quality.
As for praying, I don’t care how much they pray, or where. I don’t need to hear their prayers (though sometimes I’ll ask out of curiosity, as a touchpoint, a part of a conversation.) But it’s not about me judging them or them even judging themselves. It’s just about starting the habit of taking time to personally talk to God. Besides, what on earth is better than that?? (Answer in our house: nothing!)
The idea of “play something” and “make something” are closely related, though not exactly the same. Playing could be playing a board game together, playing with Legos or dolls by themself, playing the piano, or playing a game of make-believe. As a side note, my kids have developed an intricate, ongoing series of make-believe and I love to listen in and hear how and what they come up with. They refer to it as “the game we play every morning”, though “many mornings” is most accurate. It makes my momma heart swell with joy.
“Make something” could be building a ship or a town out of blocks or Legos (see the overlap), coloring a picture, baking, writing a letter, casting a play. Really anything that’s creative. Honestly, sometimes I’ll give them a pass on either “make” or “play”, depending on the day, how motivated or creative they are. They are both open to interpretation, and while doing both is highly encouraged before moving on with their day, doing at least one is not optional. Doing the other two- pray and read- are definitely not optional either.
The thing is, they love if now as much as we do!
It has been such a life-giving experience, for both kids and grown ups alike. As you can imagine, they’ve started playing together more. It’s made it easier to get over the morning slumps and to get moving in a positive, thoughtful, and creative way in our day, because we already stated it in that way.
This really could work for kids of all ages, even including teenagers. You could add physical exercise or fresh air if you wanted, too. Though for us it’s a given, so we didn’t need to add it to the list. This summer checklist is supposed to act like a springboard for us eventually going outside.
This is not something that I choose to “police” as much as guard and encourage, and that works for everyone. Perfection is not the goal. A healthy, life-giving habit for body soul and spirit is the aim.
Once you create this rhythm in your home too, you’ll see how wonderful, healthy, and worth it is. When a habit is created, it’s so much easier to enjoy the benefits of it too.
Happy summer, friends!
Use it well, because it alllll matters, so much! ☀️🙌🏻
I like to spend the present so filled up with what’s happening that I say that I have no room for holding regret.
I used to lug diaper bags and thought that awkward phase might be over. But now it’s practice bags and dinner for long practices and a change of clothes for big exciting experiences . And I still try to fill up my mind and heart and hours being so present.
Then I will see a picture, read a post, from a few years ago and about those I love, and my heart will just about burst.
I never want to stop learning. I never want to stop loving. They cannot be separated.
So as much as I want to live with no regrets, if we are growing and able to adjust and change, we will always find new and better ways to love.
Love is a journey that lingers -or speeds- along the road of life. I don’t want to miss today’s green pastures any more than I hope that I didn’t miss last years. Or the years and decades before that. But than can only happen if I stop counting so much of yesterdays -the things and happenings around it all.
I think the one thing that will never change is the realization that there’s always more room for love. There’s always more room for giving it and living with and in it, and then giving it away. So no matter what changes, that never will. That will always inspire us to dig deeper, to go further- in the ways that best matter, today. So let’s let it be love, friends. Don’t spend so much time looking for where it’s not, or it’s missing. Look to fill up all of the cracks you stumble upon. With love. All the bumps on the roads that you travel. All the people that you bump into along the way. All the ones you’re across from and around. Love them with ferocity. Which means, friend, that you’ll have to forgive them -and yourself- a lot.
In order to keep loving, you’ll have to try again.
The only cure to regret is loving so well and much and genuinely today that you don’t have time to worry.
Because when you “do”that kind of love, when you receive it from Heaven yourself, snd you allow it to flow with such velocity through you, you will have no chance to worry.
Because you start understand. That it’s not about what didn’t happen yet, but what can be RIGHT NOW. That can- and does- make all the difference.
Then love will flow like a river, And sweep away all debris. And all that will be left, Is who you were all Meant to be.
I don’t think that we crave recognition as much as we want to see what we’ve planted, what we’ve done, to grow. We are delighted when they say thank you, not because we need it, but because in hearing it we know that we have done a small part of our job. To teach them to notice. When they shower us with hugs or presents, the presents are not our delight. (Well. Maybe the hugs are.) But not even as much as the thoughts that they had to think in order to get to the place to give them. The way they wanted to honor us, to see at least some of what we’ve done. To appreciate it.
I think more than ever, that the whole of what I’ve done will, and probably should, remain unnoticed. My son said I’m good at praying. My daughter said I’m good at being a mom. And most of all, those two answers both hit the nail on the head of my heartbeat and make wants me to get better at both of them. I see they are the most important. Even though I’m “good”, I want to excel. And I can’t do that on my own.
I know that the best of my work will be done there, in the secret place of my heart, and in prayer. Bringing myself before the Lord. And bringing my family and kids there before the Lord, too.
My best “work” is not going to be what is done in the kitchen, or the bedroom or the living room or laundry room. But in the prayer room, wherever that happens to be. It won’t be in how I dress them or bathe them, how I feed them or care for them just in their bodies. But in how clothe them in honor, how I Love them with prayer and how I can shower them with mercy- all His gifts- again and again. They might fill my mind with things to worry about or my house with things that clutter, but I can use this unique opportunity to fill their hearts up with Love. His endless Love. The same Love that I need constantly, too.
Even as I’m folding some laundry or cleaning up the dishes or watching a game of soccer. Finding God there, and asking for help. Asking for His help and guidance, asking for His hand to be upon us all.
My best “work” will not be what I have done or will continue to do that takes care of or addresses any of their physical needs or even the emotional ones by myself. My very best work will be when I connect with God on their behalf, and bring to them whatever bread He’s given to me, too. To help them notice and see Him, too. Him, most.
When I bring their whole -little or big- beings before His throne, and I mention their names in breathless wonder and prayer. When I hold their tender bodies. They’re priceless souls. Their complex hearts, their unfolding dreams before Him. When I carry them, in my body or my heart. When I bring them before the Lord, and like Mary with her alabaster jar, and I pour them out before the Lord, I am doing the best job that I can.
They are not mine. They were and are, His, first. It’s my greatest honor and joy to bring them back to Him and partner with Him in how I parent them. He is the Lord. I am their parent. We are both His children.
I cannot do it well without Him.
It is one of my deepest, truest life missions, not only to care for them, but to carry them, always before the Lord. The One who knew them first, who knows them best, who loves them most. It’s hard to imagine sometimes, but I also know that it’s true. When I run out of patience, He doesn’t. When I run out of Hope, He doesn’t. His stretches longer and higher an deeper and wider. His love is endless and spotless and priceless. It beats ours, every time, and with the way that we love our kids, that’s saying a lot.
He lays out a table, stretches out a blanket of Love, and He wraps us all in it. No matter what, we will never-all!- run out of it. Not out of His Love. When my heart or my flesh fail, He doesn’t.
So, it is my honor, my duty, to bring myself, and to carry them with me too, back to His feet. Again and again.
I will find myself there and I find them too. I find all of us, as we’re meant to be. Held in His arms, forever.
Forever and just as we can be, Today.
I guess the thanks I love to hear from them, the closeness, is what God longs for, from all of us too. And so I can give that, I can do, my best “work” by giving it all back to Him, too. He knows just how to Love us all best, too.
He knows. That sneaky devil, he knows. That if he gets to you, he can get to her. He knows that if he steals your joy, you won’t have enough to give. He knows that if you doubt your worth, that she will likely doubt hers. He knows that if he puts you down and lets you feel crushed or be crushed by the cares of this world, then she will too.
He knows that if you rise into the fullness of your calling, she might also. He knows that if you rise into the fullness of love, she will too. He knows that if you know what it means to be ROYALLY loved, so will she.
He knows, that devil. That’s why he’s trying to crush you. To bring you down, to destroy your confidence. To trade in everything that’s good and lovely just so you can wallow instead in filth and regret.
HE knows that if you rise up, Beloved, and take your place, take your Savior’s sure hand, that things will never be the same. He knows what blood courses through your veins and it is a curse to him. Let it be.
You have royal blood. You are royally, seen. A crown, a jewel, in your Heavenly Father’s eyes.
You are not despised or rejected, you are held and seen. The Lord is coming back for a pure bride, and you my friend, are one of them. So are your kids too..
Show them. Tell them. Let them know. Tell your sister. Tell your daughters. Tell your neighbor. Tell your friends. Tell all who are coming up behind you. Around you. In front of you even. The mothers who came before you and lost their way a little. It’s not too late. Tell them all of His love.
You were not discarded. You were hidden. For such a time as this.
There is no lack of love, there is no lack at all. You are Christ’s, Jesus’ beloved. You have everything that you need, right here in The Hand that you hold. He holds everything. Hold it. Fast and firm. Hold on and don’t let go.
The time of rejoicing has come, the time of singing and celebration is here. You becoming His, really His, and that is reason for great celebration. Great celebration.
Rejoice friend, you are His. The Lord’s. You are all His. That is MORE than enough. And hear Jesus sing His song of victory, over YOU.
I took the morning off one day this week. By “off” I mean to say, I took a break from my coaching work, my mom work, my house work, my home work, my wife work, my life work.
All of the busy, busy, good work.
I sat in my car and prayed. And cried. And listened for what God has to say. For a couple of hours, tucked in between drop off and clean up, I did nothing but wrestle and rest and worship.
I sat in my car for a long while and read the Bible and prayed. I didn’t peruse the isles of Target. I didn’t buy myself a new pair of shoes. None of that would have really helped. None of that would have eased the ache in my soul. There was nothing I could find there that would erase or ease the tired ache.
I prayed and fought and pleaded with God. For His help. For His healing touch.
For my family and for what each of our inheritance is in the Lord.
I spent almost 2 hours alone with the Lord in prayer. I set aside the distractions. The striving and instead I just surrendered.
Into the weariness I was feeling. But not to stay there. To be met there. To be healed there. To be loved there.
Right where I had been hurting right where I was making the mistakes. The placed I couldn’t even see for what they truly are. But I sure could feel. From that place. I prayed. I wrestled. I gave up, trying. And I just said “help”.
He did for me what no one else can or ever could.
When it was all done, I turned in the backseat and I saw my daughters water bottle there. It had dropped out of her backpack. She hadn’t known it then, nor had I. I was too busy trying yo let her know how she could help me and improve. But when I saw it, I realized her need, too and that I could help. So I went back over to school, not too far away, and I dropped it off .
I took the chance to borrow a sticky note and I scribbled a note on it for her. All it said way basically, “hey, I love you.”
The lady at the front desk said with ad much sincerity as I could hear, “You’re such a good mom.”
And at one point in my life, that would’ve been everything I needed to hear. It would have meant the world to me. But the more time goes on, the more truth I see, the more un-truth I see in me, and the more I really learn. This is not about me. I can’t do it ever well enough on my own. So, instead of being filled up by that statement, the immediate thought came to my mind, and flowed out of my heart, and overflowed into tears that came to my eyes is “No, I have such a good father.”
Because isn’t that what He just did for me? He knew I was thirsty. He knew I needed a drink. He saw my need and he filled it.
He was right there all along.
I delighted to help my daughter.
Even when she had a rebuttals or a response for everything that I told her this morning.
Even if it didn’t seem she could really hear or understand everything I was telling her. Even if a level of maturity was lacking and she couldn’t seem to follow my directions. Even with so much that is mature.
I was delighted to help her. I was delighted to love her. Of course I’d give her a drink. She needed one, and I was right there, after all
Just like He did and does for me. Not because I earn it with perfect behavior, but I get what I need because of His perfect love.
Depending on where you are in life or shat your style is, your time off might look different. It might be at night after the kids go to bed or a few hours on the weekend for yourself. For me it looks like a week day morning, a slice of time for what matters most. For what my soul needs most
It doesn’t always take hours sometimes it might be 10 minutes.
But it’s what my soul longs for. Let’s normalize running to the Father for peace and contentment that our souls need. Not target. Not even to our friends or social circles. Just to Him.
And friend, whatever you style is, I guarantee it’s what your soul longs for too. To be understood deeply. To be seen. To be forgiven. When no one else will do it for you, Jesus can and will. And He does it best. So next time you’re feeling depleted and you have a little slice of time, why don’t you let yourself carve out some time for what your soul truly craves.
What makes a woman is not how she wears her hair or what kind of skirt she wears or doesn’t. It’s not if she has a husband or even wants one, not if she likes makeup or her feminine name. It’s not if she plays sports or does not, not if submits to others or not, not if she runs a house or a company or barely just her own heart.
What makes a woman is not how she behaves or doesn’t.
It’s not how she feels or does not.
What makes a woman is what she carries.
What makes a woman is her womb.
No even how she carries it, what she carries inside of it or not, or for how long.
But that she in fact, does.
What makes a woman is a sacred part of who she is. A woman is a womb.
She has one, she is one. Whatever she ever carries, what she carries brings something to life.
In her womb, both physical and in the seat of her soul, she can carry things and ideas and people.
She can nurture them from within and bring them into being. Perhaps the most interesting thing about that is, sometime, or maybe most times, she has no idea what it is that she really carries.
Until well after it’s lost or years after it’s birth and continuous unfolding.
There are people we birth and get to know for a lifetime- theirs or ours.
There are ideas we may carry for years and birth only to what appears to be a cacophony of silence. There are restless dreams that we wrestle with, hopes we dash upon, seeds we grasp. In our strength, or theirs, sometimes we come to bear a thing. Unexpected or not. A promise, maybe, a threat.
And we don’t know the shape of its face, the thrill of its laugh, the echo of its days. No, not yet.
Not the tears that we’ll cry or others may too. Not the push or the pull of destiny, not theirs or ours.
We don’t know fully what we bear. Never while we bear the weight of it, not the fullness of it, no matter how heavy. Never while we bear the weight of its beginning and growing and birth. Its awkward way it has of expanding us.
But oh what a privilege it is to in fact carry it, to hold it. (Even if we are honest, here is where we bow but don’t break, under the weight of its coming.)
Long before we’ll ever know the breadth of its growth or the grace of its frame or the fire in it bones. The sheer joy and beauty of being able to hear, its song in voice.
No, we cannot imagine any of that. But when we see it or feel it or hear it, even in just a part, it takes our breath away.
More than all of the ways its weight took our breath and slowed us down, when we couldn’t even imagine what it would ever become. This one takes our breath away in a way that brings us life., and hope. Others too.
That is why women and wombs are amazing.
When she is open and intimate- with God especially- she will be, she will become, and she will give birth to, more than she could ever imagine or dream. She will give birth to what is, already, HIS.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.