I was sitting on the sidelines, game three of flag-football playoffs when I heard one of the coaches say, “This is what defines you, right here, this is what makes you.”  I love, love, love my son’s coaches.  They are good men, they are men of God.  They have integrity and honor and they coach well.  But this one time, I didn’t agree.  Perhaps he got carried away, perhaps, he’s almost right… but this one game, in the middle of May, while my son is 9… this is not what makes him.  It may shape him, and I know it has, but it is not what makes him.

At the beginning of the year my sweet boy wanted to play football, he begged and begged.  He could do it, he was convinced… and I repeatedly told him no for lots of reasons but if I am being honest – I didn’t want him to get made fun of, he is a lot smaller than most of the boys – in height and weight.  When other mothers ask me which one my son is, it would be easy to say, “He’s the little one.” Or “He’s the short blond one.”  But I don’t mention his size because in most situations, it doesn’t matter to him… He will conquer giants one day, I just know it – I cannot help but want to protect him. Also, it’s football, flag or otherwise, it’s still dangerous and I don’t want to see him get hurt but it is something he loves. So, we’ve invested in two seasons now and we’ll start a third in the fall.  The first season their entire team barely won a game, this season that all changed.  They all worked hard and trained hard. Half his team went on to win the playoffs while the second half of the team, my sons team, came in third.  They played their hearts out… they played until their bodies gave out… they played until they broke inside and their nine and ten-year-old selves came out in a flood of tears and pounding on the grassy yard lines.

That’s hard to watch… as a mother. Part of me wanted to rescue him, wanted to pull him off the field, pack him up and take him for ice-cream but the part of the coach’s words, the part that was perhaps correct - not that it defines them but moments like this, how they deal with disappointment and challenge does get weaved into who they are. 

In the third game, my son and a team member crashed into one another… hard.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch his breath and he was done.  I pulled him from that game and made him sit on the sideline with his team, cheering them on.  After losing the third game to our team mates, we were facing a tough team to beat, the next game was win or lose for the advance.  My son said all the things that defeat even before he stepped foot onto that field. He was a crying mess and he had lost hope and heart. Something stirred within me and I was reminded of our bedtime prayers. 

We pray every night for our kids, with our kids, and over our kids.  We have done variations of the following prayer since they were born. 

My daughter was 6 when she first started talking about believing in God, accepting His truth as her truth, and asking to be baptized.  We were concerned. We wondered how could a child fully understand the love of God, mankind's need for forgiveness, the sent Savior's death on the cross, and the resurrection.  We really thought maybe she should be older, more prepared, understand the weight of it all.  

Our then pastor, and still family friend, said to her daddy and me, "When we raise our kids in a home with a foundation that believes in God and follows God's truth, when we invest in their education and send them to a Bible believing school, and when we are committed to attending church and serving as a family in ministry... why would we be surprised when they "get it" and make a profession of faith at an early age."  That’s all we needed to take her seriously.  She was baptized just two years later.  

I don't know why I was surprised this past Friday night when his words rang in my mind once more.  

The kids and I went to dinner after football practice.  We love Taco Thursday, it's kind of our thing.... only we didn't make it on Thursday night but went on Friday instead.  We all order tacos, munch on salsa and chips, and then we just talk.  Daddy works nights so this time is usually just the three of us. We were happily chatting about the day, about school, about practice, and Saturday's game.  We texted funny pictures to daddy as we waited a ridiculously long time for our food.  We played games on the silly coloring mats restaurants give to kids to keep them occupied... and we laughed.  It was great fun.  

Behind me sat a couple, quietly eating and enjoying their time.  Honest mommy moment-I was aware of them when we walked in.  I was aware they were different, part of me was aware that the kids might notice and say something... something that makes parents cringe... something that kids say and then parents should apologize for. 

In the middle of our fun one of them got my attention and told me what great kids I have.  They thought our kids were just so well-mannered and couldn't believe how well behaved they were.  They told me that and they told the kids that.  The kids said thank you and we turned around but they wanted to keep talking to me, so I did.  As someone who loves Jesus, I kept thinking and praying for an opening to share the love of Jesus with them but an opportunity didn't come.  So, I remained friendly and kind.  It was about this time that my son gave them a few strange looks and then tapped on my shoulder... Moms, you know the tap... the tap that helps you remember the original concern for the cringe worthy comments you knew where coming the moment you entered in the first place.  I quietly told him to wait, he could tell me in a moment... I just kept thinking, keep him silent - don't let him say what's been on your mind since you walked in.  

The couple left and then I gave my son permission to tell me what he needed to tell me... what I expected was not what came out of his mouth.  

"Mom, I wanted you to tell them about Jesus."  "They needed to know that Jesus loves them."

My mouth hit the floor and it stayed there. 

Kids get it... ya know?!?  They just get it.  My kids didn't see this couple as I did, with the preconceived notion of judgement I had considered just by looking at them.  Instead, they, with a childlike heart just know that people need to hear about Jesus and how much He loves them.  Period... end of story.  

So, driving home I couldn't help but recall our wise pastor... only this time, in my mind, he was saying, "Your kids know and love Jesus.  You and everyone around them is teaching them to be evangelical and love the lost.  Your son loves the lost and you are surprised when he wants to talk to all people about Jesus; regardless of where they come from, who they look like, or any perceived lifestyle choices."  

I am so grateful for childlike love, innocence, and a heart like His!

I drove, we talked.  We talked about what mommy was doing in her mind when she was talking with the couple.  That mommy had been praying for an open door to talk about Jesus. That mommy also had to consider the surroundings, that they (my kiddos) were with me and the conversation could have gone so many, etc., etc., meanwhile the Spirit had opened the door... He called upon my son to open the door and I silenced him.  We talked about listening to the Spirit, we talked about things he could have said, ways he could have been bold.  And I apologized for not trusting him.

Lessons aren't always for the kids - sometimes they are wiser than they know. Their faith is simpler, their dependence is greater, and their understanding is what Jesus wanted us to know all along...  Love me and love others.  

I think it has been 6 months since I have felt the desire to post.  I have unfinished drafts all over the place - stories, thoughts, life stalled.  Now ready to push un-pause and get back to it.

This has been such a long season of lessons and change...  for me personally and professionally.  For my husband, our marriage, and for our kids.  

And I just want to share some of what I've/we've learned. 

I have learned that learning to wait upon the Lord is best.  His timing is always perfect.

It was crazy to walk away last year from a full-time job and a career path that I had been working so long to secure.  So many unknowns.  The only vision that kept me going was hovering the one foot out, dangling about the path, and the fall of the step to put one foot in front of the other and believe that this was what God wanted of us. 

I had prayed, we had prayed, and discussed it all with one another.  We walked into this as a family.  My commute into the office used to take 45 minutes, longer in traffic.  I would arrive at the office by 8 am, work through lunch, and leave at 5 pm where I would have another 45-minute commute home.  I took calls night, on weekends; once I even took a phone call in the middle of the frozen foods section of Whole Foods and solved a travel crisis for a colleague and his family after a missed connection during an international trip.  Too many hours away from home, too much time away from our kids, and my husband and I had become two ships passing in the night.  

On one of my commutes into the office I prayed to understand how leaving the job I had, career path, salary security, everything... would fit into my understanding, our understanding of who God is.  Surely, He is honored when we pay our bills and satisfy our debts.  Surely being in the work environment I was in gives good witness to who God is and how He loves imperfect people... imperfect people like me.  And suddenly, on this drive, I knew.  

What happens when I leave all that behind is a righted relationship...  One that is solely dependent on Him.  My independence gone.  My identity now His.  A righted relationship with my husband that makes me dependent on him for the first time in nearly 20 years, one that puts him as the head of our household.  Trust in a marriage that God brought together; even as I witnessed my own parents’ marriage struggle, witnessed trust and faith put into the wrong person and how far that got my mother.  So, I never trusted... always made just enough, could stand on my own - just in case...  Then, a relationship righted with my kids, time in the home with them - volunteering at their school, afterschool pick up and play dates.  Baking... Art... Homework helping... Sports... being a mom. My relationships righted.  The worldview turned upside down.

The year was painful, stressful, wonderful, and exciting.   

When we made the decision as a family, we looked hard at our finances.  We took an honest look at our bills, what we needed to pay off, what we needed to cut, and what we considered to be non-negotiable.  Our house and our kids school was a non-negotiable.  Tithing was also a non-negotiable, although we haven't been as faithful as we should have been with it.  Everything else either had to go or be cut and it was.  

In that span of time, we have done a great job and squeaking in every month with exactly what we needed.  God always provided.  In that span of time too... we have had a second house flood caused a second time by the refrigerator I had to have when we moved into this place years and years ago.  A waterfall in our bathroom one night during a rainstorm, and two broken down vehicles and repair bills to go along with it.  Things we didn't plan for, events such as this that have never happened in the history of our marriage so close together in back to back intervals. Things that would break any couple... things that normally would have broken us, broken my hubby --- but didn't and we persevered.  We looked for the silver lining and prayed.  We also thanked God it wasn't worse... we thanked God for the flood, that it was good clean filtered refrigerator water and not sewage.  We thanked God that it was only about an inch deep everywhere and didn't seep into our walls.  We thanked God that we have family and friends who loaned us vehicles when we needed them... and as my daughter had a bit of anxiety when my vehicle took its dive that we, as her parents, were able to notice that she needs to feel safe and secure, that things like that will give her anxiety and we can help her learn tools to help her cope.  We've relied on our church for prayers.  We've also relied on each other for comfort.  

In this time, I have watched my husband become a leader in our home... His confidence has soared, he loves like no other, and has grown in his own relationship with God.  Our relationship is also better than it has ever been before.  Our kids are happier than they have ever been and look forward to mom being around.  The money... extra clothes, and fancy vacations are hardly missed.  Instead they look forward to my visits at lunch every other Wednesday and me sitting in art class with them.  Since I no longer work weekends we spend more time together, more time talking... more time hearing their hearts and loving them for who they are. 

All these things would have been missed if I did not take a leap of faith and say yes to God's plan for our life.  

Some say that when God hands you a crazy-once-in-a-lifetime-can-only-happen-with-Him-plan you jump, you go all in... you do it.  So, we did... and we wouldn't go back.  

If God is calling you to something, He will guide you thought it and provide every step of the way.