In the Striving

From pretty early on in our relationship, Kevin and I knew we would one day adopt.   It came up casually in one of those “how many kids do you want to have?” conversations.   I remember it clearly.   As we debated on whether 3 or 4 was the perfect number, I asked, “Would you ever want to adopt?”   Kevin’s answer was so confident.   “Absolutely,” he replied.   At that point, I’m pretty sure my response went something like this: “God would really have to slap me across the face to make it clear that we are supposed to adopt.   That’s not just something you do because it sounds like a good idea.”   So over time, we settled at having 3 or 4 kids, and possibly adopting someday. Years later, after we had our first son, we endured 2 miscarriages.   While that was undoubtedly a tough experience, it was one of the most incredible times of learning clear lessons that God wanted to teach me…one of which was that He does, in fact, want us to adopt some day.   Since then, I have had the same con

As you have figured out by now, my goal to produce these posts about the “Over Time” series in a matter of 6 or 7 weeks has been rather unsuccessful.   However, thanks to the encouragement from Kevin, my dear husband, I’m not allowing myself to feel like a failure.   I’ve always been slightly ridiculous when it comes to goals and meeting them.   So this time, I’m learning to take a page out of Kevin’s book: Goals are great.   Aim to achieve them.   But don’t beat yourself up if you don’t, and certainly don’t give up. That said…I started this in early July.   It’s now the beginning of October, and I still have 2 more posts after this one. And that’s okay.   The funny thing is, I’ve actually been eager to write this particular post since I got started.   This is my very favorite of all the things a child needs over time…stories.   Have you ever thought about the role that storytelling plays in the life of your child?   Probably not.   At least I never had until reading this book ( ht

It was my first day at a brand new school.   I was in the 8 th grade, and my family had just moved from Kansas City, Missouri to Redlands, California.   I was a fish out of water.   And any kid who has ever had to move knows that the most dreaded part of the first day in a new school is lunch time.   It’s quite a predicament.   You have to choose between being bold and asking some random person if you can sit with them, risking total rejection…or sitting by yourself and in turn, looking like you clearly have no friends, risking your reputation for the rest of the school year…and possibly, beyond.   On this particular first day, I had made it all the way to Social Studies, my 4 th class, without making up my mind on which option was less painful.   A decision would have to be made soon, though, since lunch came right after Social Studies.   Little did I know at the time, words were being said, on my behalf, to make sure that pain was not what this poor, new girl would experience.

Love. I have actually struggled to write about this one, which is odd because love seems to be an obvious, right? When it comes to parenting, we all know that we are supposed to love our kids. Allow me to go out on a limb here and assume that we all do, in fact, love our kids. However, the more I have read this portion of the book (Losing Your Marbles/Playing for Keeps), and thought about it, I have come to the conclusion that love is not simple. But it’s so incredibly important. According to “Marbles,” “Love over time is the one thing that matters most.” I typically try to put all of this in the context of my own experience as a parent. However, in this case, I think I will share my story as the result of love over time from my own mother and father. My parents were so good at communicating, “I love you.” I never went to bed at night without hearing it. I never left for school in the mornings without hearing it. My parents never failed to tell me they were proud of me. T

I will never forget the very first time Oliver buttoned his own shirt up all by himself.   I’m certain it was on a Sunday (every other day of the week he’s in t-shirts).   And Sundays, when you’re married to a pastor, are a single-parent effort to get the kids fed, clean, and looking halfway decent before running out the door at 8:30am.   So ever since Isaac, our 2 nd son, was born, I have been trying my best to teach Oliver, our oldest, to get ready by himself.   I began teaching him how to bring his own cereal bowl over to the sink when he was finished with breakfast.   I showed him how to brush his teeth all by himself.   He quickly learned how to put on his own clothes…until it came to those pesky buttons. He worked at it relentlessly.   He’s the kind of kid that wants to be independent, and he wants to know how to do stuff.   But he’s also the kind of kid who gets extremely frustrated if the attempt is still unsuccessful after roughly 2 minutes.   So we endured many Sunday

Time flies.   Cliché, I know.   But it’s a phrase that perhaps we’re all guilty of tossing around without really considering the truth behind it.   Maybe this isn’t necessarily the case for kids.   You see, my husband and I have planned to take our 3-year old to see “Monsters University” this Saturday.   For Oliver, time is creeping by.   Saturday seems like an eternity away from today.   Today is Friday.   My, how perspective changes with age! The point is, whether we like it or not, time does, in fact pass…and usually, rather quickly.   If we’re not careful, it has a tendency to slip away from us until we have none left.   Humans, by nature, are typically procrastinators, right?   This is why I’m writing today.   My husband and I have recently been given an incredible reminder of this school of thought.   More than likely, you need a reminder too. This past April, we attended the Orange Conference in Atlanta, GA (check it out: Click Here ).   We’ve been several times, and it’s

My Dad is a journalist.   He has worked for many different newspapers around the country.   He is also an incredible writer, and at various times throughout his career, he has written a weekly column for the paper.   He has been known for writing about particularly controversial topics.   You know, politics and such.   But he has also written about our family upon many occasions.   Since my mother is his companion…his other half…he eventually established an acronym which he used any time he referred to her in a column.   She became known as the “L.L.M.B.”…standing for the “Lovely and Long-suffering Mrs. Beck”.   This became an amusing joke among the members of our family.   However, as I get farther and farther into motherhood, I am realizing the real truth that lies behind this well-deserved title.   But not because she was my dad’s wife…because she was a mother to me and my 3 siblings. My mother is long-suffering, for sure.   Right now, I am only 3 years, 3 months, and 9 days

Today’s post will have nothing to do with parenting.  Today, I am on a break from parenting.  Well, at least for the hour that both of my children might actually take naps.  And you know what?  ALL parents, no matter how perfect and angelic their children may be, need breaks from time to time.  If you disagree, you are either lying…or you’re just weird. So, in lieu of my typical posts on parenting, today, I am choosing to write about a newly budding love of mine: gardening.  (I apologize for the pun…but my mother will be proud…she prides herself in saying punny things).  If you happened to read my very first blog ever, you may have noticed that on my list of “to-do’s” for this year was planting a garden…with the goal of actually producing something worthwhile.  Well, folks, we don’t have vegetables yet, but there is some hard core evidence of future produce out there in that dirt!  I am pumped, to say the least! We are lucky enough to live next door to dear friends

Ah...a new computer.  A much overdue purchase we recently made.  It will no longer take me 15 minutes just to turn the computer on.  Needless to say, I'm a happy camper!  And hopefully, this means I will do more writing...hopefully...we'll see.  So...kids say the darndest things.  If you have kids, or have been around them much at all, then you know this is true.  Allow me to share a couple recent Oliverisms... 1.  The other day we were talking about consequences.  This is something we've been talking about QUITE frequently in our house, as Oliver has randomly decided it's fun to pretend he wears diapers again (even though he's been potty trained since November).  I'll spare you the gorey details.  Anyway, Oliver asked the question, "Where do consequences come from?"  (This is a common question he asks..."Where does _____ come from?" Sheesh, I'm realizing how much I don't know!)  I told him that consequences come from God.  He dis

Last Friday night was the best night I’ve had with my husband in a very long time!  We have been long overdue for a date night, and my upcoming 30 th birthday gave us even more of a reason to reserve an entire night for just the two of us.  So, thanks to my sweet in-laws, we were childless for roughly 19 hours.  Going to the movies was fun.  It had been a long time since we had been to the theater, and I had been dying to see “Lincoln” since it first came out in November.  Dinner was fabulous.  Sushi is our fave.  Mmm…still thinking about how good it tasted.  But really, the best part of the night was when we got home.  We sat on the couch…turned on some background music (Mumford and Sons Pandora station—always a good choice)…and we talked…and talked…and talked…for a couple hours!  It was wonderful and much needed. So why am I telling you all this?  Well, our conversation that night, at one point, parked on the subject of parenting.  I am going to be terribl