Ann Voskamp's Blog, page 291
August 15, 2012
10 Ways to be a Happier Mom
10
Ways to be a Happier Mom
1. Life is not an emergency.
Life’s a gift.
Just. Slow. Down.
2. Now is not a forever grace but amazing grace.
Do whatever it takes to wake to wonder right here.
3. Sometimes the slowest way is the fastest way to joy.
Make time today, even a moment, to read Scripture and memorize it.
Without the lens of His Word, the world warps.
{Slowest=fastest to joy}
4. Laughter is the cheapest, holiest medicine.
Preschoolers laugh 300 times a day. Aim for double that. Tickle someone, (yourself!), if necessary. This is good!
5. Motherhood is a hallowed place because children aren’t commonplace.
Co-laboring over the sculpting of souls is a sacred vocation, a humbling privilege.
Never forget.
6. Homemaking is about making a home, not about making perfection.
A perfect home is an authentic, creative, animated space where Peace and Christ and Beauty are embraced.
{Perfect does not equate to immaculate.}
7. A pail with a pinhole loses as much as the pail pushed right over.
A minute dawdled here, a minute scrolling here — they can add up to your life. Write down your intentions for the day and prayerfully ive the intentions and spend your life well by paying attention to the moments — which pays thanks to God.
A whole life can be lost in minutes wasted, small moments missed.
8. Believe it: I have all I need for today.
The needs of our day are great but our God is greater and we call Him Providence because we believe: He is the One who always provides.
{And when God provides, He should be praised, and if God always provides, shouldn’t praise always be on the lips?}
9. Slow. Children at play.
Time’s this priceless currency and only the slow spend it wise enough to be rich.
If we had to actually buy our time, would we spend it more wisely — spend it more slowly?
{God’s Word never says Hurry Up. God words only whisper: Wake Up.}
10. Love is patient.
Parenting’s this gentle way of bending over in humility to help the scraped child up because we intimately know it takes a lifetime to learn how to walk with Him.
Patience. Love always begins with patience and patience is a willingness to suffer.
Bonus:
The art of really celebrating life isn’t about getting it right – but about receiving Grace.
The sinners and the sick, the broken, the discouraged, the wounded and burdened — we are the ones who get to celebrate grace!
Regardless of the mess of your life, if Christ is Lord of your life, than we are the celebrants out dancing in a wild rain of grace — because when it’s all done and finished, all is well and Christ already said it was finished.
CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD AS A FREE PRINTABLE
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Related: 10 Point Manifest for Joyful Parenting (free printable)
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Every Wednesday, we Walk with Him, posting a spiritual practice that draws us nearer to His heart. To read the entire series of spiritual practices
This week, and next week, might we consider: The Practice of Relationship. We look forward to your thoughts, stories, ideas….
Today, if you’d like to share with community The Practice of Relationship … just quietly slip in the direct URL to your exact post….. If you join us, we humbly ask that you please help us find each other by sharing the community’s graphic within your post.
Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
August 14, 2012
How to Really Live {Part 2} . . . . . . . . . . . {The Rest of the Story}
There are some stories you can’t quite get out of your head.
Our last boy, he comes to me yesterday, crawls up on my lap and asks me in this whisper:
“You know how you told us that story, Mama, about Kolbe? What happened to Gajowniczek afterward, Mama? After Kolbe said the Nazis could kill him instead of Gajowniczek? What happened right after?”
The light is long across the floor, pushing back all the shadows.
Malakai leans into me.
“What happened? The other inmates at Auschwitz were angry with Gajowniczek — because they had lost Kolbe. They had lost a confidant. They lost a man who loved them. They’d lost the man they called the Christ of Auschwitz. They actually say that, because the other prisoners at Auschwitz so wanted the love of Kolbe back, they became angry and mean to Gajowniczek.”
“That’s awful.”
Malakai whispers it, eyes not leaving mine.
And I nod. And Christ loved the world and He died in our stead and the world looks around and says but where is Christ? Where is Christ in Christians?
Is the world angry because they so want the love of Christ but the Christians, who say Christ lives in them, don’t act anything like Christ? Is one of the causes of atheism today all the people who say Christ died for them but they don’t live like Christ?
My chest hurts like Malakai’s eyes.
“So I guess, right after, Gajowniczeck felt…” What do I say?
“Guilty?” Malakai’s searching my eyes.
“Yes, they say that. That Gajowniczek felt guilty for begging to keep his life while Kolbe willingly laid down his life for Gajowniczek. They did say he felt that. But maybe you would too a bit? That you had desperately wanted to hold on to your life — when someone was freely willing to give up his life for yours.”
Malakai’s nodding his head, his eyes filling up, and I cup his face in my hands and I want to take this all away for him but maybe there’s no taking this away for any of us — only living into the utter reality of it.
“But you know what, Malakai?” He shifts on my lap. “It was more than guilty — they say that Gajowniczek felt grateful. They say that in “his gratitude for the self-sacrifice of Maximilian Kolbe, Gajowniczek devoted much of the rest of his life to promoting knowledge of [Kolbe]…. His mission to ‘repay a debt.’ ”
“Like that song?” Malakai starts the chorus a bit off tune.
“I owed a debt I could not pay, He paid a debt He did not owe…”
Yes, like that. Do I tell him?
That because Kolbe had given his life for Gajowniczek, that Gajowniczek couldn’t stop telling Kolbe’s story, his name on his lips wherever he went. Can I make a 9-year-old boy understand? Make my heart understand?
That when someone gives their life for you, you feel more than guilty — you feel so grateful that you give your life for them. That you give your life away.
That when Someone gives up His life for you, you can’t help it — His name is always on your lips. When a Man’s life is right in you — of course His name is right on your lips.
When Someone gives their life for you , you are so indebted to him — you live in service to Him. And it’s more than lip service.
When Someone dies for you, you have to make your life count for something.
You have to make your life worth something — because His sacrifice had value.
When you’ve literally been saved: You are not your own. When the heart of another man beats in you, your life is His too. You have to live for Him. You have to give your life for something like He gave their life for you.
I tap on Malakai’s chest. Tap on it like a knocking, like a steady beat.
“Jesus died to give you a new heart — His. Your salvation is like organ donation — so how can you live with anything less than appreciation? Adoration? Flat-out dedication?”
If your every heart beat comes at the very cost of Someone else giving you His — would you waste it?
And I can see it.
How this story stuck in one boy’s head —
lodges into the depths of his one beating heart.
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The First Part of this Story: How to Really Live {Part 1}Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
Links for 2012-08-13 [del.icio.us]
@ Holley Gerth... yes, yes, yes.
You Probably Have Too Much Stuff
@ NYTimes... "When we were growing up, didn’t we all have the goal of a huge house full of things? I found a far more quality life by rejecting things as a gauge of success."
August 13, 2012
How to Really Live
It’s like an awakening.
That right in the middle of the Sunday sermon, while the pastor’s preaching what salvation really means, I can see a woman in a pew ahead of me flipping through the pages of an Avon catalogue.
I can only bow my head.
Because there are a thousand ways to be lukewarm and there’s a reason I know that. I’ve been apathetic about grace and casual about Christ and you can lose your First Love faster than you can lose the 100 meter dash. And when you lose your First Love, you don’t just lose your way — you lose your mind.
And that’s why on the way home from Sunday services, I tell the six kids what I remember of the story.
“I don’t know if I ever told you, how at the very end of July 1941, WWII, a man escaped from Auchwitz. And the Nazis’ protocol to discourage attempts at escape was simple: One man escapes — ten men were executed in his place. So after the escape of this one man, all the men, looking like bags of bones, are called out of the barracks.”
“What are barracks?” Shalom leans forward. I explain. We pass a field lined with round bales.
“So in front of the barracks, one man is standing: Franciszek Gajowniczek.” I always struggle with the pronunciation of his Polish name. “And Gajownicszek, he’s thinking: Out of hundreds, I just have to escape being one of the 10 names.
The Nazi commandant calls the first name, second, third, fourth. Franciszek Gajowniczek hopes hard that he would live to see 42… live to hold his children close again…seventh, eighth, ninth names…”
He’s only a few years older than I am. And he’s only one name away from seeing the sun rise tomorrow. We turn at Bobby Johnson’s corner.
“And then they barked the tenth name: Franciszek Gajowniczek. And Gajowniczek — he falls to the ground. Near starving, he peels back every shred of dignity and he flat out begs, ‘No, I am married! I have children! I am young! I beg of you!’
The kids are quiet.
“And behind Gajowniczek, a man breaks rank… And he steps forward so all can see his face —- Maximillian Kolbe — a Christian. A Christian who was known to give up his food rations to those less hungry than he was. A Christian known to give his blanket to those not as cold as he was. Maximilian Kolbe, he was known to these incarcerated Jews as the Christ of Auschwitz… and he steps forwards silently, takes off his cap, and before the commandant he says,
“Let me take his place. He has a wife and children. I am not married. I am not a father. He is young. I am old. Take me.” I turn around so that I can see the kids’ faces. “Maximilian Kolbe was only 6 years older than Gajowniczek — 47.”
Hope turns from me, looks out the window. Rain drops start to splat the windshield loud.
“And Gajowniczek, laying there on the dust on a July morning, he would later say, ‘I could only thank him with my eyes. I was stunned and could hardly grasp what was going on.’
And Kolbe, he was dragged off to a wire box like a dog kennel with the nine other men, left to starve.”
This is always the part of the story that gets hard, when the lump grows too large in my throat. The children say nothing and I push the words past the stinging in my throat.
“Kolbe spent the next 14 days singing hymns and praying with those nine other men, as one by one, all of them starved to death… And only one month prior to Kolbe being dragged off to starve, on June 15, 1941, — Maximilian Kolbe had written this to his mother:
‘Dear Mama, I am in the camp of Auschwitz. Everything is well in my regard. Be tranquil about me and about my health, because the good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love.’”
I had memorized that line of the letter. Because if a man in the midst of one the most hideous scenarios known in the history of the world could write a line like that — not from a bad day at the office or a hard day with the kids, but from the death stench of Auschwitz — how can anyone deny this ultimat,e iron-clad testimony : A Good God is everywhere — and provides for everything with love.
How can I believe anything different when the house is loud and mothering wears and obligations pile and I’m buried and a friend tells me the doctors have given her 60-90 days to live and even breathing can cause this pain in your chest?
If Maximilian Kolbe could stand in Auschwitz and write “Be tranquil — because the good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love” — is there ever really anything that should make one lose tranquility? It could be like a song for all the doubters and anxious: The good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love.
I say it quiet into a silent van, only rain thrumming on the roof.
“At the end of the 14 days, when Kolbe was still alive — still alive and still singing and breathing and giving thanks to God — the Nazi’s plunged a lethal injection into Maximillian Kolbe.”
What line did we sing this morning in that Matt Redman song, the whole congregation singing it like a rising? “Let me be singing when the evening comes — Bless the Lord, O my soul, Worship His holy name…”
We sing it but who lives it? Kolbe had. And the Nazis had tossed his body into a mass grave. “Let me be singing when the evening comes…”
Maximillian Kolbe was the first man who had ever offered his life for another man in the history of Auschwitz.
He would be the only man.
The man who saw that a good God is everywhere and provides for everything with love.
And Gajowniczek? Gajowniczek would live to be released from Auschwitz. His sons were all killed. But he found his wife and a small home in Poland.
The Farmer turns in our laneway, parks the van.
I tell the children this. That Gajowniczek would put a rock in his back yard with a brass plate affixed to the rock. That brass plate had just two words engraved into it: Maximillian Kolbe.
“And Gajowniczek? He said this:
‘Because of Maximilian Kolbe, every breath that I take, every thing that I do, every single moment, is to me — -like a gift.’”
I say it to the kids, to the Farmer, to the rain coming down, but mostly to me.
“We are Gajowniczek — a Jew died for us. We who were once sentenced to death have been offered the shocking gift of salvation, of being flat out rescued, of being saved. If we believe we’re the lost who are saved — how can we lose our First Love? How can our bones not burn with thanks, with love, with the message of Who saved us? How can anything after His rescuing — be anything but appalling gift?”
It’s time to be tired of being the living dead.
There is breath in my lungs.
And rain on the window and people I love and a Bible right here in my lap and there is today and the life of Christ right in the dead bones and there is resurrection happening right now and who doesn’t unwrap all these gifts with utter thanks?
The rain’s falling harder now. That’s what Gajowniczek had said:
“Because of Maximilian Kolbe, I can’t act frivolously — because every single moment is pregnant with meaning. Because it was a gift to me from that one who died that I might breathe this breath, that I might act today, that I might embrace this moment — I could never take another moment for granted.”
That lump in my throat. Forget the glossy catalogues and the mindless distractions and the frivolous frittering away! Because One died for me that I might breathe this breath…
It’s all a gift.
And I turn and touch a child’s cheek and when you are saved, it can startle you alive.
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“Wants are my best riches, for I have these supplied by Christ.”
…. that He would give any gifts at all when the gift of salvation alone is far more than what I deserve — more of His endless, One Thousand Gifts … thanks be to God for all of these blessings:
that One stood in my stead {#4232}
that Christ is more than One in whom to believe — He is One who is Beloved. {#4233}
that He calls sinners His Friends, His Own, His Bride {#4234}
that this world has nothing to desire and He is all our riches {#4235}
flesh and heart may fail, but God Himself is our strength {#4236}
that there is a revolution, a groundswell of thanksgiving to God — #8 this week on the NYTimes Bestsellers this week {#4236}
that we are found in Him (Phil. 3:9) {#4237}
that the focus is all on Him… “when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness” Psalm 17:15 {#4237}
that:
“All gratitude is ultimately gratitude for Christ, all remembering a remembrance of Him.
For in Him all things were created, are sustained, have their being. Thus Christ is all there is to give thanks for; Christ is all there is to remember.
To know how we can count on God, we count graces, but ultimately there is really only One.” ~One Thousand Gifts
Join us? And happily change everything by keeping your own crazy list of One Thousand Gifts?Please, jump in, make your life about giving thanks to God! — Just add the direct URL to your specific 1000 gift list post… and if you join us, we humbly ask that you please help us find each other in our refrain of thanks by sharing the community’s graphic within your post.
Give thanks to the Lord! His Love Endures Forever!
Really — Take the crazy Joy Dare!
Print it out for the fridge {and the kids} : use these prompts to give thanks for these gifts from God.
Why bother?
When thanks to God becomes a habit, so joy in God becomes your life.
Because those who keeping a gratitude list:
1. Have a relative absence of stress and depression. (Woods et al., 2008)
2. Make progress towards important personal goals (Emmons and McCullough, 2003)
3. Report higher levels of determination and energy (Emmons and McCullough, 2003)
4. Feel closer in their relationships and desire to build stronger relationships (Algoe and Haidt, 2009)
5. Increase your happiness by 25% — (Who wouldn’t want a quarter more happiness!) (McCullough et al., 2002)
Who doesn’t want all that?
Click here to print out August’s Joy Dare Put it on the fridge! Dare the Kids! And begin this month-- right!
Count three gifts a day, 1000 gifts in 2012 (and be entered to win the NikonD90 camera?)
Thank-you is a word that can change you, your world — the whole world!
HOW TO ENTER August’s GIVEAWAY:
Each day of August, either share your gifts on on Twitter {label with #1000gifts #JoyDare so we can find you!}, or with us in the gratitude community at Facebook , or on Pinterest (#1000gifts).
Each day, 3 people will who share their gifts via Twitter, Facebook or Pinterest will be randomly selected & entered into a drawing for JOY BASKET: a gift card @ Amazon {100$} & {signed copies of One Thousand Gifts, the photographic gift book
, the DayBrightner, and the family gratitude journal} Give thanks to Him in the assembly!
Join us? And happily change everything by keeping your own crazy list of One Thousand Gifts?
Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
August 12, 2012
Links for 2012-08-11 [del.icio.us]
@ Shaun Groves "I wanted to be the primary author of the message she would become to the world." Good thoughts for any parent...
August 11, 2012
weekends are for guaranteed success
“Success waits upon cheerfulness.
The man who toils rejoicing in his God has success guaranteed.”
~ Charles Spurgeon
10 Links for Making This Weekend a Wonder
Creative Inspiration for the Weekend : You will never regret this. Because twenty years from now you’ll wonder why there are never any pictures of you with the kids. So print this out: 50 photos you need to take *with* your kids (grandkids) — and then use the self-timer on the camera. You’ll future self will be so happy you did this. {You are living these 7 Habits of Creativity and making happy time everyday to be creative, yes?}
Inspiration for the Weekend Why the spirit of the Olympic Games is so compelling
Make a Memory on the Weekend This weekend is the one to watch for the meteors! The Perseid meteor showers are spectacular and rarely disappoint. Worth hanging outside after midnight with a sweatshirt and family and friends. “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.” Ps. 19: 1-4.
Organize for the Weekend Video Tour of the most Organized Home in America. Guaranteed to give you an idea or two about how to tweak the organization of at least one space in your house.
Intentionality on the the Weekend 5 Ways to Draw Little ones Closer to God. Yes.
Kids on the Weekend Back to School in 13 items – thinking you could use these principles for some great thrifting? And then read this: Fascinating reading about the wonders of pencils that you never knew… and the kids would find riveting.
Truth on the Weekend : You did read this one of Tim Keller’s, yes? Because we will all absolutely need this one sooner or later in our lives, 100% guaranteed.
Lord willing, I will be serving with my friend Angie Smith in Des Moines, IA on August 24 with Women of Faith. Love Angie’s heart for Christ and her heart and her latest piece of wisdom? A must read: The Table.
Worship for the Weekend
{Please consider clicking off music slider just below top nav bar to hear this song of grateful worship. RSS readers can view video here… }
May the grace and truth of our Father surprise you all over again this weekend, friends…
Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
August 10, 2012
Links for 2012-08-09 [del.icio.us]
@The High Calling..."If we have been betrayed by someone close to us—and eventually we all will—our first response should be to..."
Straight up joy
... at 50% off. Exactly what every hurting heart needs
Hurting?
@Real Hope For Haiti... "I believe that when God allows suffering to happen, we are challenged to rethink the things that the world has taught us." This. post.
August 9, 2012
The Very Best Way to Schedule Your Life {The Law of Life}
I confess, it felt counter-intuitive—just plain wrong.
Just plain, straight out wrong to bend over each strawberry plant, press the delicate white petals — and all subsequent hopes of fleshy scarlet sweet — press between thumb and index finger —
and then just pluck it off.
I had forced myself on because of the Googled reassurance:
“Pick off all first blooms to ensure subsequent harvests are more plentiful.”
If I ever intended for the everbearing berries to produce heavily throughout the season, I had to choose to sacrifice the first harvest so that all the growth and energy could be more efficiently invested into producing later crops.
So that is what I do: Trim. Pare. Cut back.
It’s like a song:
Pick, Prune, Pluck.
Cut out that which seems good to invest in the best.
That’s what the garden needed in early spring.
And come late summer, looking out into the fall, the calendar, it needs the same.
The law of the garden is the law of life: Early sacrifice for later bounty.
I stand over the schedule and I learn to say No. I learn to let go. I learn to trim back.
It’s painful to prune out good things blooming. It’s hard to remember why you are pruning.
It’s hard to have faith in the harvest coming — but later.
I confess – there is a counter-intuitiveness to it: to pluck off certain life activities that will yield good fruit. Some might even think it foolish to pare back, when the bloom and gifting apparent; a good harvest inevitable.
Yet it’s the pruning of seemingly good blooms that grows a better life.
To allow later seasons to yield the longed-for abundant crop.
It takes courage to crop a life back — but it’s exactly the way to have the best crop of all.
That’s what I tell myself standing there looking at the calendar, at September, at a new year — at the faces of people I love.
What seems like the hard work that’s taking an eternity today — is exactly what may make the most difference in eternity.
What today seems a plucking of dreams will someday be but a trifling.
What can seem like a plucking of dreams — may be the wisest of investments. In the later harvest.
The sweetest one.
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“Prayer is the alpha and omega of planning. Don’t just brainstorm; praystorm.”
~Mark Batterson
Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
Links for 2012-08-08 [del.icio.us]
@ Mom Heart ... "We cannot guarantee our children a life with no heartaches, bruises, or trouble. However, as we live day to day and year to year, we can create a home which to them is a Sanctuary from the world."
Having A Martha House the Mary Way
@SarahMae.com... just about free e-book with definitely needed encouragement
what if... there was no "what if"?
@incourage... What if... we all focused on what IS instead of what IF ?
August 8, 2012
If you’ve ever been wounded by women
The dark’s never bothered me much.
It’s women who have scared me.
Because women can haunt with shadows of their own.
I don’t know what grade I was in when Alexa Richards murmured to Judith Nolan in the back of gym class that the whole school knew I’d likely end up in a loonie bin.
But I know I vowed right then I’d hide from girls.
Jjust hide out in the library stacks, a barricade of my own. Safe from Sadie Miller ‘s remarks about my clothes thrifted from the Sally-Ann, and Lissa Turscott’s barbs about being the geek no one would ever want to be friends with, and it’s true — no one tells you that the shields you carry to keep you safe, they become the the steel cages that keep you alone.
I never gave the women at university a chance.
I kept the door to Room 411 on the C wing of the French floor always closed and locked.
I told the girls down my hall, Melanie with a Chinese mother and Dutch father and who’d grown up in England, and Cyndi with her Portuguese parents and her boyfriend who had won the lottery and Yamila from Uruguay whose father was an international diplomat — I just told all of them that an open door made it too hard to study.
Truth was, I thought an open door made it too easy for someone to shoot an arrow through my hard and quaking heart.
They always knocked and asked if I wanted anything at the cafeteria. They always made sure I never walked alone in the dark across campus to the library. They had always tried. They had always smiled.
Every single one of those women made the trip to the farm to be at my wedding. They came together and early, to help decorate the tent in the backyard with white begonias and double impatiens.
Why hadn’t I been patient with friendship?
Why had I let the past rob me of the present’s possibility?
Why hadn’t I seen that the price of being safe — is the cost of being solitary?
Why hadn’t I seen that distrust can destroy a life?
And then came summer days when I gathered with women and we had pie together and laughed the dark away under stars and I stand in a doorway late at night, in a house full of (in)courage writers.
One of the women asks me quiet: “Has it really been okay? — I mean, for you to be here with all of us?”
And in a house full of women, the words come in the dark and what haunts can be cast out, and these words are truth:
“God has used you, all of you, so many women, to heal me.”
I have witnessed it — women holding Sara right there in Skype and carrying her out to see the sea.
I have heard it, women asking across tables about dreams and listening long to really hear and I heard women do it — how they helped unfold wings and smoothed the crumpled and timid out with prayer and how they waited to hear the flight.
I have felt it — how no one wants anything of anyone but to be honest and real and to trust enough to take off the mask.
You breathe different in a room when you know it’s not about the good you can accomplish but about the grace you can accept.
Because really — in a refuge of grace, who has anything to prove or protect?
In the hands of grace — who has anything to hide?
In the space of grace — who needs to live for something — when they can live with someone?
When we breathe in grace, we finally believe we can be real — and only then can we begin to be changed into the realest versions of Holy Grace Himself.
It’s in a sanctuary of grace, relationships near extinction can revive.
Friendship is all that will show up at our funerals.
Who can bear living the whole of their lives and never learn what it means to really be a friend?
I long to learn.
I have felt it these days too, straight across me: Women, how they can cast long shadows of their own— the lengthening of a love that picks up the phone, that writes a card
, that lavishes patient grace on an old ache…
These women casting shadows that lengthen into the faithfulness of a Cross.
Making all the dark up and flee.
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Every Wednesday, we Walk with Him, posting a spiritual practice that draws us nearer to His heart. To read the entire series of spiritual practices
This week, and the next two weeks, might we consider: The Practice of Relationship. We look forward to your thoughts, stories, ideas….
Today, if you’d like to share with community The Practice of Relationship … just quietly slip in the direct URL to your exact post….. If you join us, we humbly ask that you please help us find each other by sharing the community’s graphic within your post.
Click here to download a free Easter Devotional : A Trail to the Tree {please give it a few moments to download… thank you for grace!}
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