To the Women Who Would Major in "Marriage & Motherhood"

I was ranked twelfth in my class in high school when I graduated and was honored at a special banquet that year. Throughout my school years I was an academic achiever, always working hard and posting high grades. As I set off for college everyone expected great things from me (or so it seemed from my perspective), and I did too. Would I be a genetic counselor? Would I pursue medicine? Was it journalism or graphic design? Would I major in dance? But when it was time to declare my first semester major, I was completely confounded. I ultimately landed on “undecided” as my major. I switched schools after one semester and then haphazardly declared graphic design as my course of study. That clearly was not my calling and so, the following semester, I just as unthoughtfully chose journalism education. It was just before this semester that I had met and started dating a charming, joyful young man named Jack. Being fully honest with myself, I knew what I really wanted to be was a wife and a mom, and college did not (and does not) offer such a major. And so, with three semesters under my belt, I left college, got a job through a temp agency, and was married that summer.

Looking back, I am thankful for the floundering. Had I been nose down heading toward a career, perhaps I would have missed the most profound opportunity right in front of me: marriage and motherhood. The problem is, while aiming towards marriage and motherhood as one’s top priority used to be quite normal a couple of generations ago, this is no longer the case. And so, women (and men) who hold this view and have this desire can feel quite alone and wonder if perhaps something is wrong with them, as if they are just settling. With social media posts boasting great accomplishments in work and travel, it can make us believe we are missing out and more importantly, missing the boat.

But if I could gather the young women and men who want to walk the seemingly dull and insignificant road of family first, I would boldly whisper great encouragement to them and tell them to move full steam ahead. Give it all you have. Put your time, energy, and money into marriage and family. While we should never idolize these things (put them above God, or sin to get them, or sin if we don’t get them), I believe many are missing out on a different kind of rich life, because of the swing and sway of our society and culture to make career, travel, and financial success of utmost importance.

While my education seemingly ended back in December of 1998, I can tell you I have been educated in many, many meaningful ways through marriage and parenting and all along the way. I tell others that God knew I was a tough case and so He sent me seven rambunctious and outgoing kids and led me to stay at home full time (and homeschool them) in order to teach me selflessness and patience, among a myriad of other things. I am not the same as I was prior to marriage and kids and I am forever grateful to have been schooled in this way. I have grown in knowledge, curiosity, and wonder simply by homeschooling my kids. The amount of subjects and topics I have been able to cover in the last two decades is astounding. And I’ve gotten to do this with my kids, which is even sweeter. Homeschooling has been quite the avenue for me to connect with my kids (another blog post on that later). In addition to growing in character and knowledge, I have grown in skill. Managing my family with the abundance of needs, requests, scheduling, and budgeting over the last quarter of a century, I have been told by others and believe myself that I have built some serious project management, business, and customer service skills. Maybe one day I will utilize those in the marketplace, but how does one even start to convey this or quantify these skills on a resume? The thought of it makes me chuckle.

I was sitting by a pool in Tennessee a couple of years ago musing over these same ideas and a high-level business executive looked me straight in the eye and told me that she believes the stay-at-home mom is the most untapped wealth of skill and talent. She says her best hires have been women who stayed at home to raise their kids and then moved into the marketplace. Interesting.

Along these same lines, I ran into an old acquaintance a few years ago while I was working a one-day event in downtown Indianapolis where hundreds of businesswomen gather each year. I was surprised to see her name on the attendee list and especially surprised at the table she was assigned to that was full of high-level executives. When she approached the information table where I was working, I asked her why she was at this conference. Her response has stuck with me and left me pondering (and feeling validated) ever since. She said, “Andi, my friend worked for this company (a large, very well-known corporation in Indy) and told me I should apply.” She had stayed at home to raise her kids and now three were in college, with more headed that way, so bills were piling up. She went on to say, “I started at an entry level position. And then they just kept promoting me. I am still shocked at where I am at.” It turns out, my friend has some remarkable project management skills, and this company quickly recognized it, as she was now quite near the top.

So, what if women were not afraid of jeopardizing a career and no longer felt the need to postpone marriage and/or childrearing but instead could see that a career in marriage and motherhood can actually give way to a career in the marketplace further down the road as well. Instead of attempting a career and family simultaneously, the approach could be consecutively. Women would feel less torn and less stretched thin: raise a family first with all that you have and then pursue a career next if wanted. After all, how many 18 year olds truly know what they are good at and passionate about enough to make an educated decision on which career path to choose? How many people major in something, only to learn once they are in the workforce that they loathe that career? How many times have I heard someone explain that they have never used their degree, but ended up in a completely different job field? I can tell you that with the experience and growth I now have under my belt, I believe I could absolutely declare a major and move forward with a career in which I believe I am made to do. I can also discern if what I would like to do would actually require a degree, or maybe there is a more time and cost-effective path forward. I also have perspective on what a career in a certain field realistically looks like from day to day and can evaluate if it fits my priorities. How many kids enter into a field with no concept of what the demands of that career would look like on a weekly basis and if it would be a healthy fit for their life choices (especially if they are wanting a family)? And now I absolutely have some things I am passionate about that would make it well worth my time and money to invest learning more about and then sharing that with others as a career.

But as for the idea of a career as a wife and mom first, I often am asked how we approached and still approach marriage, home, kids, and family, and the more I reflect, the words “all in” come to mind. I see women trying to manage it all—a career, home, marriage, and kids and I just don’t know how they are doing it. I have taken some small, very part-time jobs in recent years and I can say with confidence (because I have experienced what “all in” looks like at home), that our family suffers when I am not “all in” at home.

I also believe more women would enjoy motherhood on a different level and marriages would be stronger if they had more margin. Taking care of a child’s needs (physical, spiritual, and emotional) can be first rate as part of your “job” at home. With more margin, more effort could be made to make home a haven and to create spaces and times for family unity and bonding. With more margin, women have more capacity to prioritize their marriages. Call me old fashioned, but I am thankful I had women speaking into my life that taught me to put God first, my husband second, and my children third. I listened to these women explain what this looks like on a day-to-day basis (future blog post on this to come). I watched these women and saw this model work. I can attest it does. Our relationship with God directly impacts our relationship with our spouse. Our relationship with our spouse directly impacts our parenting and our relationships with our kids. And so the health of these relationships trickle down and affects the whole picture.

Am I saying all women should stay at home or that no woman should go to college or pursue a career? Absolutely not. Like many things, this is not a one size fits all approach to life. What I am saying is that I believe there are many women who deeply desire being married and having children and giving their all to this, and yet they lack the encouragement to do so. They lack examples, because not many are walking this road anymore. They lack the validation of knowing that this is just as high of a calling as any other career one could choose, because society at large no longer holds this view.

But, if the true value of the career of “Marriage and Motherhood” was advertised and uplifted, I wonder how many women would realize that this is really what they want and would feel empowered and free to aim at this? If there were more voices proclaiming the importance of these roles and if there was more understanding of the profound impact that majoring in marriage and motherhood can have, how many women, men, families, and communities would benefit? If this is you, I pray that you will choose to walk this blessed, challenging, but oh so valuable road with absolute confidence. You won’t find this major at any college. You won’t receive a degree or any kind of certification. And you definitely won’t get a paycheck. But I will tell you, the benefits and rewards will be like no other. You alone are the wife of your husband and you specifically are the mother of your children. You hold a significant, one of a kind, irreplaceable role and this should be celebrated and recognized as one of the most reputable career choices one can make.

On the Altar of Sports and Activities

 

I signed Jack (our oldest child) up for baseball when he was about six years old, because that’s what I thought you’re “supposed” to do. Just getting to the first practice was daunting and eye opening. At this point, Jack was the oldest of four kids, so you can imagine waking kids up from naps, packing peanut and butter and jelly sandwiches (because, of course, practice was right at dinnertime), and trying to bring something to keep the three younger kids occupied during the practice. It was chaos. My husband came straight from work and met us at the baseball fields. For an hour or so, we wrangled the kids, helping them eat “dinner,” while keeping them from falling off the metal bleachers, chasing them around to keep them within eyesight, and helping them to the bathroom when needed. I’m sure I was potty training one kid and nursing another. You get the idea. While Jack did a great job that baseball season and showed potential, everything in my heart was saying, “NO WAY.” So, we never registered him for baseball again. Ever.

That may sound like laziness on our part, or maybe we were to blame for the craziness. After all, we chose to have so many kids so quickly. Regardless, I remember making a conscious decision after that experience—we would not sacrifice the culture of our family, as well as time, energy, and money on the altar of sports and activities. When the timing was right for these things in our kids’ lives, we would know it and they would be sacrifices we would not regret. Little did I know, I had unknowingly created a filter for our family to make future decisions through. So instead of registering Jack for the next session of baseball, we threw a baseball in the front yard with all of our kids. We were in the comfort of our own fenced in yard. Snacks and bathrooms were readily available. Dinner wasn’t rushed through or missed. Neighbor kids would see us and join us. It was peaceful and it felt so right. We were building our family by doing this, not trying desperately to keep it together.

We didn’t sign our kids up for swim lessons either. Instead? We visited the neighborhood pool often, where we played and splashed around, building loads of memories with our kids. They all fondly remember swimming through our legs and playing “the color game” where we would hold them in our arms and ask them a color. If it wasn’t the color we had chosen in our minds, we would dunk them. Then there were the in-water handstand contests, the underwater tea parties, and the most cherished memory of all—being launched off my husband’s shoulders. I don’t even remember “teaching” them how to swim. They just absorbed the ability from being at the pool so much. No paying money and spending precious time loading kids up and sitting at swim lessons. But, years later, when we moved to our new neighborhood, we discovered they had a swim team. The season was one month long, as the kids got older they could ride their bikes to swim practice, and meets became a hub for friends and neighbors to spend time together.  Our kids were on the same team and were together for meets. The timing was right.

Then, there were piano lessons. From age five, Jack told us he was going to be a drummer someday. We wanted him to have a couple of years of piano to build a musical foundation before starting into drumming and we were back at the same dilemma- time, money, and chaos. How would we do this? I talked to some well-respected musicians and piano teachers and heard the same thing over and over again. While starting piano at five is fine and good, the best age to start is age nine or ten, when they are really reading well. They will make up for “lost time” so quickly with these developmental skills in place. So, we waited. Around age nine, my sister-in-law found an at-home DVD piano course. It was intended for adults, but we wondered if investing $80 in this and giving it a shot might be worth it. Let me tell you, it was. Jack completed the two-year program. It was then that we found a piano teacher who would come to our home and was affordable. Double win. He took lessons from her for a year, and then we discovered a high school aged kid who could teach drum lessons for ten dollars per lesson. I never felt like we were sacrificing more time, money, or energy than we should.

We did end up finding a great solution for our whole family as some activities evolved on Thursday nights at our church. My husband was the technical director of the church and had rehearsals on Thursday nights. A karate ministry started, and we enrolled Jack. Later Joey and Jeremiah began karate when they were old enough. I started a dance ministry program on Thursdays as well and Jillian, Jenna, and Jane all participated as each of them became old enough. Would we have picked these things as our top priority? Karate, definitely not. Dance, perhaps (that is a WHOLE other story). The total cost for these activities for our six kids for several years was next to nothing. The time investment was one night a week for part of each year. All of us at the same place at the same time. There was even childcare available for before and after these activities and for the kids who weren’t old enough to participate until my husband and I were done with our responsibilities for the night. Thursday night childcare became one of THE main events of the night, however, as the kids developed friendships with other kids and grew to adore the workers.  

You might say, “We don’t have opportunities like this.” But the filter that ultimately led to this Thursday night full of activities was, “I will not run our family ragged, split us apart, or cost us precious money, time, or energy.” As these things started to evolve on Thursdays, I knew it was the right choice for our family, and to this day, I stand by this filter.

Besides these Thursday night activities and the month long neighborhood swim team, we never participated in organized sports until Jack was in eighth grade. His friend invited him to try out for a new homeschool soccer league in the area. Soccer? What is soccer? Jack and I both did gymnastics, played baseball or softball, and sang. Soccer was a foreign territory. But we were willing to give it a shot, because Jack would be with a good friend, we could carpool, it was really affordable, and it was with like-minded people we trusted. Did I mention that there would never be games or practices on Sundays? Not skipping worship and opportunities to serve at church made this very attractive. But was Jack “late” in the game when it came to soccer? Probably. Did it matter? It depends on how you look at it. What I saw was a determined kid who came home and researched soccer. He practiced outside at home. He was eager and hungry to learn. He quickly became a valuable player on the team and continued to play on the same team for six seasons, becoming one of the top players. He developed lifelong friendships, gained skills he is still using today as a young adult, and entry into this particular soccer team provided us with a whole new “family” of friends, as we have had six out of seven kids participate (one is an avid dancer—more on that later). More than a decade later, we are still all-in with this homeschool soccer team. Our kids practice on the same nights together. Their games are almost always at the same location on the same day. When one kid is done playing, he or she watches and cheers on their siblings in subsequent games. They practice at home together, recap amazing plays while lingering in our kitchen, and encourage each other after devastating defeats. They have been there to see all of it. Each of our kids played on the same team as one or more siblings at some point. We travel to out of state soccer tournaments together and enjoy one to three hotel stays a year. And we have the majority of our family with us. It is a win in our eyes for so many reasons. Would we have chosen soccer if we were aiming at a different goal? Very likely not. But soccer was what was in front of us, helping us to accomplish our goal of family first.

Even so, soccer was the first real dent into family dinnertime and being at home together in the evenings. To this day, by the end of soccer season, we wonder if this is the best thing for our family. We reevaluate. We remind ourselves that it is only three months out of the year. It does MORE to bring our family together than it does to separate us. That is the real litmus test when evaluating soccer for our family. The costs end up leveraging more benefits for us as a whole. Because of the common bond, the common love for the sport, and the common family friendships, our older kids who have aged out of the team are still incredibly interested and invested. They often block off their calendars in order to make it to local games and they have even come to state and national tournaments that are two to eight hours away.

A similar “cost” to our family nights at home came in the form of a dance opportunity for our oldest daughter, Jillian. She participated in the dance ministry I was running at church from age four to fourteen. This allowed her free dance classes for one to two hours each Thursday about eight months out of the year. I and the other teachers could see Jillian’s talent emerging and my heart longed to be able to foster that more. I knew the options, however. Studios are expensive. They wear costumes I didn’t want my daughter to wear. Maybe the younger years were fine, but where was it all headed? As I looked at the costumes and the dance moves performed by older girls, I knew I did not want to put Jillian in that environment. And what about all the competitions? The costume fees, recital fees, hotel stays, competition fees and associated costs. We couldn’t afford it. Even if we could, is that where we would want to “invest” our money? It just wasn’t. So we waited. God knew the desires of my heart. He knew the talent just waiting to burst out of Jillian. And then the most upside down, unexpected thing happened that propelled all of this forward- my husband lost his job. The summer of 2015 our world came crashing down on us when my husband was let go from his job at our church, which he had held for thirteen years. Additionally, losing his job ended up meaning that we were losing our church as well. He had been a member there since he was a teenager. We were incredibly invested. Our life centered around this church. But God. He took care of our family. Jack seamlessly found a new job. But Jillian no longer had a place to dance. Another church took her under their wing and let her dance there. She focused on stretching for a year. Then she ended up at a nearby dance camp the summer of 2017. It was a studio I didn’t even know existed and it was different. This studio didn’t participate in competitions. Instead, it focused on shows. Costumes were handmade by the director and were free for the girls to wear for performances. While the studio was not focused on worshipping Jesus through dance, it was high quality dance training without the questionable content, music, and choreography, and she was at an age where she could successfully navigate these situations if they arose. So, we did what we could afford- we signed her up for one ballet class a week. Seeing her talent early in her first semester, Jillian was asked to join their pre-professional program starting second semester. I was no longer spending huge amounts of time running the large dance ministry (as a volunteer) and former employers got wind of my availability and called me. Jobs landed in my lap, and I started work at a dance studio and a gymnastics facility. Literally weeks before Jillian was set to start the studio’s pre-professional program in January 2018, we had all the money we needed for Jillian to start formal training. She trained all through high school at this studio. While it was a break in our family time each night, we knew it was time for her to pursue dance at this level. It also was five minutes away from home and a friend in the neighborhood joined at the same time, so carpooling was an option until she could drive. It fit. I had the same question with Jillian as I had with Jack and soccer- was she late to the game? The answer? Probably. What did I observe? A determined girl who came home and practiced and worked incredibly hard in class. A girl not burnt out, but highly driven. A girl not nursing overuse injuries but soaring.

So where did this all lead? We seemingly held our kids back when it came to sports and activities. We chose family first. We looked at our time, money, energy, and capacity at each season to evaluate what was best for our family. Did they miss out on scholarships? Maybe. Very likely. Did they miss out on becoming the very best they could be at just the right sport or activity for them? Maybe. But how many kids actually get a scholarship for sports or for dance? How often do they not crumble under the pressure of keeping up in order to keep the scholarship? How often do they not forfeit that scholarship due to injury? What if they weren’t college bound anyway?

What did they not miss out on? A whole lot. While nothing ever formally came of baseball, I can tell you that many summer nights several of our kids and my husband wander outside after dinner to throw a ball. The mitts are one of the first things packed in the trunk for vacations. Jude (our youngest) has played a couple of recreational sessions of baseball. The older kids have looked forward to driving him to practice and they love watching his games. And soccer? Some are still playing for that same team. We have more than a decade-long relationships with other families who are involved. Our older kids who have graduated from the team have gone on to register for indoor soccer teams in which our kids play together (this is where our oldest son met his wife!). They have played pick-up soccer on Saturdays outdoors… together. A soccer ball is also one of the first things tossed into the trunk when it comes time for a trip or vacation. This has also given way to summer days filled with pickleball, Spikeball, ultimate frisbee, and a myriad of other opportunities to play in an informal way. Our garage looks like Play It Again Sports and then it all transfers to our trunk for vacation.

As for dance? Jillian made it all the way to a professional Christian dance company—one that runs conventions around part of the country. I had started taking dancers from the dance ministry I ran to the Chicago location way back in 2013, which is how we found out about the program. My sister and I just celebrated ten years of Chicago convention weekends together, where we have laughed, hurt (adults attempting to keep dancing!), and grown spiritually, as their focus is all about Jesus. My husband and I have enjoyed trips to Orlando together the last few years to watch our daughter dance with this company. The timing, the money, and the season for our family were all right for this kind of thing when it all started happening for Jillian.

What about music? Besides the two years of a piano teacher coming to our home and the year of drum lessons given by a high schooler, we have had no more formal music training amongst our kids. But our family’s natural love for music has turned into an incredible amount of bonding over music. From spitting out every word to Hamilton together, to belting Wicked and Dear Evan Hansen and The Greatest Showman, to seeing my kids scramble to purchase concert tickets and then make whole trips out of some of these concerts, music has brought our family together. Jack plays drums, piano and every guitar known to man at a high level. He has become a professional song writer and music producer. Jillian leads worship with her voice. With the advent of YouTube and an older brother who has figured out guitar and piano to help guide, Joey learned piano and guitar to a level where leads worship at our large church. And Jude? He just started that same $80 DVD piano course (we had to find a DVD player for it!). He sits down at the piano often and shows lots of promise. Our kids share a love of music in all forms.

Do my kids wish they had done more? I’ll have to ask them, but I’m pretty sure they would say, no. The skills they have will provide lifelong opportunities for relationships, side jobs, and careers. We have had very few injuries and no burn out. The foundation that was built by them playing together in their younger years created bonds that carried them well when they did start diversifying in later years. I woke up this past Sunday morning while I was in Chicago getting ready to watch Jillian’s last day of convention tour after four years in their program with a message on my heart for young families: You don’t have to sacrifice your family for your kids to do incredible things. There will be “gaps” according to what the world has made of sports and activities, but God is absolutely able to fill those gaps. Look realistically at your family’s time, money, energy, and capacity. Revaluate at each season. Look at opportunities around you that fit through the filter you have set for your family’s values and priorities. Take time to think through and pray through what you want for your family. You will know when the time is right to sacrifice. You’ll know deep down that it is right. Trust God and put your family first. Trust me, you won’t regret it.

A Father's Love

After months of planning and preparation, the day had finally come for Becky’s surprise 40^th birthday party. Becky’s birthday is October 28 and her dad’s was the 29^th.  Since the time she was a teenager, they had always celebrated with Mexican food and a picture of them in sombreros.  This party, however, was all Pop’s idea. Several months prior, he had organized meetings, brainstormed, hired and met with a caterer (and even went out to lunch with him), secured a location, and combed through decades of pictures to create a 30 minute video tribute (which he poured dozens of hours into). He could not wait to bless his daughter. It was his joy to do so.

The image that will forever be etched in my mind, and one that evidently had an impact on me at the time, due to all of the pictures I have of just this one part of the event, was Pop looking out the window for Becky to arrive. He was like a kid in a candy store. Eager. Expectant. Overjoyed. He couldn’t wait for her to walk through the door and to have a night celebrating her. It had nothing to do with him…. He wanted to bless her, give her good gifts, and put her in the limelight, even though, really, he was behind it all. In fact, Becky wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for her dad! Nor would she be the woman she is without the great influence he had on her life.

The night was fantastic. It went off without a hitch. Days later, Becky approached me and asked if I knew how much the catering cost, because she wanted to help pay for it. I remember telling her that her parents wouldn’t even consider it—that they loved her so much. It was as if nothing to them. Spare no expense. I want to bless my daughter, because… she’s my daughter.

There was so much in the planning process and actual event of this party that made me think about a father’s love, and ultimately the Father’s love toward His children. What a picture of this we had in Jack and Becky’s dad, and what a blessing that is. I think we often struggle to see God this way—especially when we mess up, or aren’t at our “best.” So, if a human father can show us just a small glimpse of the essence of God’s love, how much more does the perfect, all knowing, all mighty, Creator of our souls, full-of-love-God love us, view us, and want to bless us? 

He gave and continues to give to us.

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Romans 8:32

And…

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17a

He can’t wait to be with us.

 “In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14:2

He thinks about us.

How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! Psalm 139:17

He saves us, delights in us, comforts us and rejoices over us.

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

So, we have a God who over and over again in His Word tells us how much he loves us. He is ultimately:

With us

For us

Our Creator (not a single other person in all of history is exactly like us—He purposefully designed us).

I have a feeling that God is in the party business. And the blessing business. And head of the joy department. And the crazy thing is that we don’t deserve it one bit. His love for us is deep, steadfast, and ultimately unconditional.

The first stanza of How Deep the Father’s Love for Us sums this up so well.

How deep the Father’s love for us

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure

This side of Heaven, I am convinced we cannot come close to understanding God’s love for us. But, I am incredibly thankful for moments on earth that remind us of this fact as far as we can comprehend, especially when Satan is constantly trying to tell us otherwise.

I will never forget Becky’s dad standing at that window, with a huge smile on his face, waiting eagerly for his daughter. It is a perfect image of a father’s love forever etched in my mind and on my heart.

Happy birthday Becky!  And happy first birthday in Heaven, Pop.

The Front Row

I attended a funeral today and sat in the back row. I was there to support my close friend in the loss of her father. It was less than three months ago that I was at a funeral, and that time I was sitting in the front row. It struck me today how that front row changes you. It changed my perspective as I sat in the back and watched my friend in the front, knowing all too well what the next days and weeks might be like for her. I pondered how we will all be in the front row too many times in our life, we will all be in the back multiple times, and one time, we will be the one in front of the front row for whom all are there to grieve and celebrate. It seems we will experience each position in that room.

While the loss of a loved one is perhaps the deepest grief we will ever experience, there is something beautiful that God does in this process. I remember sitting in that front row so recently. The day was surreal, but one vivid memory was knowing that rows and rows of people were sitting behind us, literally and figuratively. I remember feeling sorrow like I had never felt before, but love like I had never felt before, all at the same time. It was confusing and comforting. The people in those rows behind us took time off of work to show they cared, they sent cards, they sent meals, they visited, they traveled, they called… they put aside something normal in their life in order to get behind someone experiencing something that should not be normal. And while I know their motivation was compassion, concern, and care for our family, I wonder how many of them have been changed by being in that front row. Is that why some people grab your arm and look you in the eye in a way that says, “I know”? They hate what you are going through, and they show up to sit behind you, because that’s God’s beautiful design for relationships. It’s His loving kindness for people you can see and touch and talk with to be a balm for hard days. One friend who has been in the front row as well, visited shortly after my father in law passed away and said, “It was good to lay eyeballs on you.” I knew what she meant when I saw my friend just after her father passed this week. It was good to lay eyeballs on her and to hug her with the tightest and longest hug I’ve ever given her and to just be there.

While I didn’t like being in the front row at a funeral, I think there is great importance in it. The front row teaches you much about God’s love and goodness. It reminds you of all the people He has put in your life who love you dearly and who are behind you. And it teaches you why it is so important to sit behind those who are in the front row when it is their turn to endure that hard position. For those who have never been in the front row, being in the back teaches you that when you are in that front row someday, God will sustain you. You’ll know that the people He has put in your life will show up and be behind you that day and during that hard time. And you’ll gain hope that you will make it through someday when you do have to sit in the front row.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15

Both Rescued From Drowning

It has been a month since our seventh child, Jude, nearly drowned.  And God has been doing what He is in the business of doing—He has been redeeming that horrible day.  Somehow He does it—he takes ashes and turns them into something beautiful to display His glory for people to get a glimpse of Him and His loving, good, grace-filled character.

For the past two years, God has had me on a journey of learning about grace-- specifically that my standing with God has not a thing to do with my performance, but all to do with Jesus’ performance.  And, since Jesus has “done” what He needed to by dying in order to pay for MY sins, I have a position before God.  Period.  End of story.  God approving of me, accepting me, or “liking” me has nothing to do with the things I do, the way my day goes, or the sin I continue to fight or fall into.  But, somehow, it has been a long process for me to fully grasp that.  And then, Jude almost drowned.

It was a beautiful, sunny Friday.  Other kids were back in school and my friends joined me at our neighborhood pool for a day of swimming, a sort of end of summer, kick off to our homeschool year.   Jude had been in the baby pool with two of my friends and I had been standing between the baby pool and the big pool while talking with my friend so I could keep eyes on both pools.  (We are water people.  Our family lives at the pool, we boat with friends, we play in the lake in our neighborhood.  We always joke that I gave birth to fish—all seven of them love the water.)  The two friends in the baby pool were leaving and we were transitioning into lunch and over to the big pool.  I walked over and noticed Jude walking around the deep end of the pool and said to myself, “I need to go get his floaties.  Oh, yes, they are over at the baby pool.”  And then, I forgot.  I got side tracked.  I still don’t know why.   Another friend had walked in to pick up her son and I had gone over to talk to my friend who had been there the whole day. 

And that’s when I heard Yosif, our lifeguard, yelling in his thick Bulgarian accent, “I have him, but I need help!”  Someone made it over there first and I heard Jude’s name and it’s all kind of a blur, but I saw Jude on his side, stomach bloated, eyes open and staring, breathing, but just lying there on the verge of unconsciousness. 

A hundred adjectives could describe the hours that ensued after that moment—the ambulance ride, the ER at Peyton Manning Children’s Hospital with rushed x-rays, blood work, putting in the IV and a toddler who wasn’t responding to anything—just staring catatonically, a doctor shaking his head and saying, “It’s like he is alert, but no one is home,” being told we were headed to the PICU and would have to just “wait and see.”  But, also, looking up and constantly seeing a wall of people who loved us and had rushed over to just be there, constantly stopping and praying with people—knowing we had access to a God who loves us and is powerful.  The knowledge that there was absolutely nothing I, myself could do in this situation, but the beauty of knowing the God who does.  Experiencing “falling” on Jesus.  Feeling completely humbled and pleading for mercy, mercy, mercy. Hating being there, wanting to turn back the clock just an hour, but at the same time liking being with Jesus, because I knew He was there—I could feel Him. He was close.  Being able to put everything you have read and learned and known about Jesus into practice and confirming your faith is real.  Thinking, somehow, “This is hard and while I don’t like it, I shouldn’t be afraid of other hard things, because Jesus is carrying me.  I know it. Don’t be afraid of the hard.” Experiencing grace and love from a husband who had not one word of condemnation or blame, but instead said his main prayer was not that Jude was ok, but was that I would not blame myself.

Over the next four hours, we were not sure of the complete outcome, but finally learned that Jude was in shock and around 5:30 that night he seemed to “snap out of it” and I knew in my mother’s heart that he was completely ok.  It was over.

I so wished church could be that day.  All I wanted to worship with God’s people.

But then, at church on Sunday, my mind was half there.  I sat there thinking over and over again, “How did I miss that?  What if he had been under the water 30 more seconds? How did I miss that?”  And then, I clearly heard Jesus say to me, “But I didn’t.”  And I felt humbled and silenced and comforted and loved. 

Ever since it all happened, my mind quickly would flash images of Jude on the side of the pool and him lying in the hospital bed. I didn’t see Jude drowning or Yosif rescue him, but somehow I came up with what that must have looked like as well and played that over and over again in my mind- thinking how Jude must have felt under the water, desperate with no ability to do anything about it-- hopeless.  This was playing over and over again in my head that day at church.  And then, again, the Lord said, “What happened at the pool is the gospel.  I am the lifeguard for all sinners who want to be rescued. Tell Yosif.”  And so that night, we had Yosif over and we shared the gospel with him.  We had a fabulous time with him.  It was healing, I think, for all of us.  Afterwards, I said to Jack, “Being able to tell Yosif about Jesus was worth it to go through this.” During our visit, Yosif was able to share the details of what he saw and heard that day, that we had not known yet.  One thing he showed us was how he saw Jude’s little hands reaching up and opening and closing like he was trying to grab onto something.

These horrific images have turned into something wonderful—a tangible, visual of the Gospel—the good news of Jesus.  The Bible says I was drowning in my sin… on my way down to something much worse than the bottom of the pool.  And like Jude, who was reaching up for help with his chubby little hands, that fall day in 1997 on a sidewalk at Miami University I reached up and said, “Help. I am a sinner.  I need you, Jesus,  to pay for my sins, even though you didn’t do any of them, because there is nothing I can do to pay for them.  I have lived apart from You, separated from You by my sin and I am ready for a new life with You.” And like Yosif, who leaped out of his chair, rushed through the deep water to scoop up Jude and save him, Jesus was right there, ready to rescue me.  And He did.  Jude nor I could do anything…. We had no power to save ourselves from our perilous situation. We both needed a rescuer.   He did all the work.  We were saved by grace.  And now, it is clear.

The pressure of my performance is off and the worship of my Savior is on.  I am thankful on so many levels.  There were numerous gifts to be had in this terrible situation.  I pray that I remember this so that I do not fear the hard in the future. 

Just 3 days ago, our friends tragically lost their son after he was hit by a car when going to get the mail—and I am fighting to give into fear of the hard.  But we have the same God.  That’s what I am clinging to.  I experienced enough grace and comfort from God for my moment of need, and His supply is unending and unfathomable.  They have a much greater need, and He will pour out much greater grace and comfort.  He will carry them through this. He will be close. And somehow, I don’t know when or how, He will redeem this terrible situation so His people and others can see more of Him and experience more of Him.  That is a gift. And that is our Great Redeemer.

to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
    to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
    the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
    the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified

Is. 61:3

 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins  ⁴ But God, being rich in mercy,because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast. ¹⁰ For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.  Ephesians 2:1, 4-10