Russell Media - Laurie

Have you ever run in a road race and the finish line is just up ahead? Doesn’t it seem like an eternity away?

Boise hosts a handful of road races for kids. Our kids love these events and make sure we sign them up every year. Their favorite is a 1-mile race held near the end of school. There are over 1,000 kids that participate in this spirited event.

Last year Mark and I placed ourselves a few hundred yards before the finish line. Usually the race runs one gender at a time and divides the kids into age groups – with the older kids going first in order to prevent overly ambitious14-year-olds from running over an absent-minded 6-year-old.

It was near the end of the boys run and Mark had taken off to find our son Noah who had already crossed the finish. I remained in our spot, awaiting the start of the girls. As I looked down the road I saw a little boy who had yet to finish. He was now walking. His face was red and his eyes were full of tears. He was coming in last place.

His father saw him and quickly ran out to the street to join him and finish the race with him. He encouraged his son; trying to get him to run again but the little boy wanted none of it. He squealed at his dad – he was embarrassed and didn’t want to run.

All the other parents on the sideline saw what was going on. As the boy approached us, the mom next to me began cheering, “Keep going! You’re about to finish 1 mile!”

The rest of us joined in with her and the cheering the began to spread down the line. The little boy looked to the crowd, realizing that we were all cheering for him. The defeated look on his face turned into determination and he sprinted to the finished and ended his race strong.

It’s amazing how our outlook can change when we have the encouragement of others. Our mountains become mole hills and what once seemed impossible becomes possible.

We are all going to have times when the finish line is like a mirage in the desert and want to give up. But – if we surround ourselves with  positive people who will sincerely cheer us on to finish the race that God has set before us – we’ll finished determined, not defeated.

There is a time to run and there is a time to cheer. It’s tempting to hog the spotlight but we need to be sure that we’re also spectators for others as they accomplish their goals. I’m not speaking of flattery but authentic words of encouragement.

The road can be rough and we’re not meant to go it alone.

Cheers my friends!

Has there been a time when the encouraging words of others helped you through a rough patch?

Life has been a bit stressful lately. I’ve had to put in some extra work hours due to an advancing deadline. To mentally get myself through it, I told myself last week that I’d take a real Sabbath on Sunday. No work, no email, no computer, nothing. Only rest and play with my family. However, Sunday wasn’t all that restful. I struggled with the desire to do a little work here and there. When I sat down to read, I felt guilty for not working on the project. When I walked past the dirty clothes I felt the urge to do a load. When I saw my computer, I wanted to work on my inbox. My body and heart wanted to relax but my mind kept interrupting my peace. My inability to take a day off to relax kind of, uh, stressed me out.

I finally gave in at the end of the night and allowed myself to do “leisure work” on the computer. It was when I read a comment left by Adam on my Loggerhead, Lights and Landmark post, I was reminded of a lesson we learned in Germany. Adam left some great insight regarding rest on my Conversant Life blog -  as well as a link to the article (http://fulleryouthinstitute.org/2010/05/in-season/). So, I figure this was God’s way of showing me where to begin my Culture Clash series. So Germany it is…

Mark and I lived in Munich, Germany for three years as missionaries and worked mainly with young professionals. It holds a special place in my heart because it is where I primarily learned how to be a mommy. Noah had just turned one and Anastasia was born six months after our arrival. I was away from family and friends and all the advice they could give me, so I watched the German women and copied them.

Before each train ride, the German moms bought fresh pretzels for their kids. So, I did the same each day as we boarded the train to language school. They walked their kids in strollers in all kinds of weather.  So I, ahem, tried to do the same (when it wasn’t too cold). They spent hours in parks and rode bikes everywhere. So, we bought a trailer for our bikes and did our best not wipe anyone out on our family bike rides. (Warning: it’s wise not to do this after a visit to the Bier Garten).

I really miss it – but it wasn’t always easy.

There is a system for most everything and most everyone follows it. Until we learned and followed the routines correctly, we had a good many people let us know “strongly” when we had messed up the system. Each day in language school we’d recite the incident to our language instructors and they’d laugh and fill us in on what we did wrong. Once we learned all of the rules, life became quite nice and orderly and we actually enjoyed the laws of the land. Well…there was one that took us a bit longer to get.

Germans work hard but they play hard too. We loved that about them. You never had to feel guilty about taking and enjoying your time off – you had earned it.

However, we lived in the Bavaria region. At this time, there were quiet hours during each weekday and on Sunday, the whole day was quiet hours and you were expected to be quiet. What?! We are loud Americans, how can we do that?

During these quiet hours no loud work was allowed that would be considered noise pollution – i.e. cutting grass, working on cars, vacuuming your sidewalk (just checking to see if you’re paying attention.) Almost every store was closed with the exception of the bread store for a few hours in the morning, gas stations and some restaurants.

At first the quiet hours drove me crazy. In the past, Sundays were my “catch-up” days. I used the “free-time” to prepare for the week ahead and get a jump-start on my “to-do” list. This put a huge kink in my system. (Unfortunately my German wasn’t good enough to let them strongly know it).

The first few weeks we suffered. I always forgot to get enough food to get us through the weekend (grocery stores closed at noon on Saturday) – so we had to eat out or went to a gas station to buy milk. But little by little I learned the system and before long we were pros.

Once I detoxed from my irritation I noticed something. Sundays were peaceful. I didn’t feel the need to run errands because there was nowhere to go. I didn’t feel guilty for not cutting grass or vacuuming because I wasn’t allowed to. It was quiet outside and it lured us out of the house and into parks and family strolls. The lack of noise was…calming. It was healing. We didn’t feel stressed. We felt…rested.

Not only was this good for my body and mind, it was good for my soul. I communed with God. The same way you can see your reflection better in still water, you can hear God’s voice when you body and mind are quiet.

God created us to work but He also knew we’d need rest and time to play.

Our German friends and family modeled this for us. When they worked, whether at home or in the office, they gave 100%. However, they didn’t neglect the play or the rest.

This Sunday…I’m trying it again. With a new purposed. So my friends, my German advice to you is – Work hard, play hard and rest well (and don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for doing so!)

Does anyone else struggle with me in taking a true Sabbath?

Any advice for those of us who do?

Culture is one of those things you often find on the debating block. Some love it. Others hate it. It’s thought by some to be an expression of beauty.  Others consider it a tool used by society to manipulate us into what they want.

I happen to be a lover of culture. Part of me believes when God made us, he put a little bit of his personality in each part of the world. Perhaps that is why Jesus prayed to the Father that we would be unified. When we come together with the mix of all of our differences, we can see the whole of God.

One of the things I love about culture is what it teaches us about God. When make the effort to look deep within a culture and allow ourselves to look beyond the distractions, we often see a principle, a piece of God that we should strive to imitate. This is the purity of culture.

However, externals of culture often steal our attention, externals we have created and/or added. We end up missing the intended beauty and lesson. It’s the same ol’ lesson; when we take our eyes off of God, we pervert stuff and mess it up.

An example of this is a wedding. God obviously enjoys celebrations. From the beginning he told Israel to worship him and continually gave them annual festivals to celebrate. He even carried it over into the New Testament. Jesus was at a wedding and when the threat of it coming to an abrupt halt due to a lack of wine, he saved the day by turning the water into wine.

So we see God celebrates the union of two of his children. He smiles as he watches the families and friends rejoice in it together. But it’s our “additions” to the celebrations that kill the true joy, i.e. the “party before the party” that causes one to enter his or her marriage burdened with guilt. These are things that give culture a bad name and prevent us from seeing God’s face in it.

Over the years I’ve live in Russia, Chile and Germany as a missionary and done some short-term trips as well. In each place God revealed a piece of his personality through the home culture. Each country left me with a life principle I strive to attain. My next few blogs I will highlight a culture and share a story to illustrate these principles.

So, in the mean time – what are your thoughts on culture? Are you a fan? Not a fan? Any thoughts or insight into that will guide me over these next few blogs?

Until then – have a great weekend!

I work from home most days. It’s really nice, especially since the lack of a commute saves me time and money. One morning I knew I wasn’t going to see anyone else until late afternoon. The kids were at school, Mark was at the office so I decided to save even more time and go with the “natural” look. I skipped my daily routine of putting on make-up. In a hurry to take advantage of my extra time, I jumped right into work.

About an hour after I started, the doorbell rang. I peeked out the window and saw it was our delivery guy in search of a signature. When I opened the door he looked at me and seemed thrown off a bit, “Oh, you’re home. I sure hope I didn’t wake you.”

Hmmm…why did he say that? I didn’t delay in answering the door. It was almost 10:00 a.m. on a weekday. Why would he think I’d still be in bed?

As I returned to my desk, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I stopped. I knew. My face, which is normally covered with beauty products, was completely bare. My imperfections glared. My eyes seemed smaller, my nose looked bigger and my hair was definitely nappier. I looked more like a woman fresh out of bed rather than one fresh for the day.

The rest of the morning was spent with me obsessing over my lack of “natural” beauty.

I have a love/hate relationship with beauty. The old saying tells us that “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,” but if this is true, why do I feel enslaved to it? Maybe it’s our present definition of it. Why do I feel the need for my body to be a certain size and my hair to not be a certain color? Why is it that I can I find beauty on the TV but not in the mirror? Something is wrong.

Perhaps part of the problem is our culture’s misconstrued definition of beauty. Dictionaries define beauty as something that that brings great pleasure to the senses or blesses the mind. I like this – it’s quite nice. According to this definition, beauty can be found basically anywhere. But if my skin is not a certain color or my jeans a particular size, I feel ugly.

I did an informal word search in a Bible program on the words “beauty” and “beautiful.” There I noticed two things. With the exception of the books of Esther and Song of Solomon, these two words were generally used to describe God or part of his creation and the other warned us of the dangers of depending on our own beauty or man-made beauty.

Again, this was an informal study but it appears that God knew that our obsession for beauty would take our eyes off of Him and what He has given us, and then place it on ourselves. We like beauty. We want it and will do what it takes to have it. In the process we lose sweet communion with God.

I personally don’t see harm in trying to improve my appearance but when it causes my focus to leave God and then fixate it on myself, I’m in insecure territory. I see all that I’m not. However, when my eyes are on God and all who He is, I see all that I am in Him. I see true beauty – one that blesses the mind and brings true pleasure. I’m filled with peace instead of anxiety. And to me, that sounds beautiful.

For now, I’ll continue to wear make-up most days but I’m won’t worry if others do a double take and wonder if I’ve been sick due to my small eyes. I may never see the natural color of my hair again. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if I actually remember it. Either way, when the gray makes its way through I’ll see it as a reminder that God has given me some great years and memories…and hopefully some wisdom learned along the way.

How about you? Does our culture’s definition of beauty haunt you? Any insight on how you deal with it? How are raising your children to deal with it?

Ah, it’s summer! I love it. The longer days allow for early morning runs and evening swims. It’s a time to recuperate from the battles of helping with homework to the numerous hours spent watching unlimited baseball and soccer games. Of course the extra free time means the kids have even more energy and the quest to figure out how to expend that vigor begins.

Many of our kids’ friends attend some of the day camps around town. The past few summers we traveled a good bit and weren’t home enough to make it feasible to go any, however, this summer we decided to stay local so I began researching the camps.

OMG! (Don’t worry. “G” stands for Gosh.) There are so many camps out there. I was overwhelmed. They all sounded incredible, so many choices. I was tempted to sign up for all of them and fill our summer going from camp to camp. But the reality of a budget knocked that pull out of me.

I finally decided on a camp that one of our friends cofounded and co-runs, SimBale Sports, LLC. It’s a sports camp that integrates physical techniques with tools for a positive mental attitude. They teach the kids how to set personal goals and back it with skills to meet them via various sports and activities. It sounded great in theory, so we signed up.

Okay, I have to pause here and make a confession. Another reason I signed our kids up for camp this summer is so I would have a few hours a day for one week to catch up. Our house is a wreck and I’m behind on many projects. The busy spring schedule put my A.D.D. in full drive and my long “to do” list is filled with half-finished jobs. I figured this would be my time to do it all and then the rest of summer would be peacefully organized.

Yeah, right.

Well, today was the last day of our camp and nothing has been crossed off of my list. Actually, since I am in confession mode I might as well add that I have yet to write out a physical list. It’s still only mentally in my head and tortures me each night as I try to sleep.

The kids came home from camp today with these journals. My friend and her partner coached the kids each day with quotes and tips, motivating them on how to fulfill their personal goals. They were eager to show them to me so we sat on the couch and went through each one. They were filled with some great insight that really helped me with my “to do” list problem.

One quote my daughter paraphrased in her journal…

            While most are dreaming of success, winners wake up and work hard to achieve.

This quote inspired me. I’m filled with dreams but they’re only going to happen if I proactively work and strive to make them happen, praying for wisdom and guidance along the way. Too many dreams are fading away as time passes.

So I decided to take a power nap. Yep, I know that’s probably not what you were thinking I might say but it’s amazing what a twenty-minute rest will do for my thinking. There is also a need for balance. Being still is not the same as doing nothing just as being busy is not equal to being productive. After the nap my mind was clear and my body was ready to work.

I was reminded that being a winner doesn’t mean you strive to be the best but rather giving and being your best. I want to know in the end that I lived this principle. I want to model this work ethic to my kids and for them to see me giving my best for them, my best to God and my best for others.

Too many times in my life I’ve been given incredible opportunities but my lack of focus and attention caused my good intentions to end up with me just getting by.

So, I’m glad we’re staying home this summer. I think I’ll sit still in the morning and make out a list and pray for God to help me prioritize it. At the end of the day, when the kids are in bed, I think I’ll start working on my book.

Do you have any suggestions or strategies to share on how to be productive?

I dread going to the grocery store. It seems each time I go I’m in a hurry, with a time limit hanging over my head.

One time a while back, my kids and I went to the smaller, more expensive store by our house. We only needed a few things, and like always, I was in a hurry. The kids hung on to sides of the cart as I darted down each aisle in a race against the clock. I was like a mini van with a turbo engine weaving around other customers. And then I was forced to slow down.

My cart faced the backside of a little ol’ grandma who had parked her cart in the middle of the lane. She looked at one shelf, took a few steps and then looked some more. She turned and saw us waiting. A smile spread across her face and she said hello to the kids and then went back to her shopping.

She seemed oblivious that we were waiting on her to move. So I did what I’d want someone else to do if it was my mother in that situation, I smiled, pretended to be on the wrong row, turned around and hurried off. However, we must have been shopping for the same items because she was everywhere I needed to be and her cart remained in the way. I was getting annoyed, really annoyed. Didn’t she remember it’s rarely fun to shop with young kids hanging on your cart?

We finished up and I shuttled the kiddos out to the car. As I loaded my groceries, out came the little ol’ grandma and a store employee. He loaded her groceries as she chatted away. I could tell he was trying to cut her off and get back to work. I feared I was next to be chatted up by her so I hurried with my groceries in hopes of pulling off before the store employee was able to get away.

Then I heard her say something that changed everything, “My husband died about a month ago. It’s so hard eating dinner by myself. I don’t know how to shop and cook for just one person.”

Ouch, ouch, OUCH!

It literally took my away breath. She wasn’t a self-absorbed shopper taking up the aisle…she was a new widow learning how to survive without her husband and to eat alone. I was the self-absorbed one. I felt like such a jerk.

I stalled as I finished loading my car, I felt the need to talk with her. She said good-bye to the grocery boy and turned to face me. I didn’t know what to say so I commented on the fancy doors of her truck. She began telling me the story of her husband and how he wanted her to have a safe car. She wanted to save money but now that she’s alone, she figured he was right.

We talked for fifteen minutes. I was late to our next appointment but truly humbled that day. God reminded me that the heart of His children is more important than the busyness of my life.

This happened years ago and I still don’t know what to do with it. There are so many lonely and hurting people around me but I fear I’m often too distracted by my “to do” list to see them, and sometimes even care. We live in the earth’s most populated age yet many of us feel isolated and suffer alone.

I know I need to slow down, say “no” more and “be” in the moments of life. I often fear I’m raising my kids to live a busy life. I want them to live, love and be not survive, overlook and hurry. This is the first Saturday we have  no soccer or baseball games and I'm literally thinking of ways we need to "fill" the day and be productive versus enjoying one another. Where's the balance?

So, do any of you out there ever feel the same? Do you have any insight on how to slow down without pulling out of life?

Thanks for listening and your thoughts are cherished!