The night before my first triathlon, this fear kept me up half the night. Would the volunteers be irritated having to wait to break down the event before I crossed the line? Would my kids pretend to belong to another? What would my training partners and coaches think?

As I tossed in bed that night I came up with a plan – if in last, I’d sneak off the course and make my way to my in-laws house and call Mark from there to pick me up. It’d be less embarrassing to follow through with this plan than to cross in last. I figured no on would notice my absence at least until it was lunchtime.

My thoughts on last place changed this month as we were in Atlanta visiting my family. We had signed up for a local 5 K Fun Run with my sister and niece. The race went well for all of us and Mark ended up being the overall winner (show off!).

He refused to leave without his trophy so we hung around for the awards ceremony. Over an hour had past since the start of the race and they were in the middle of giving out the age group awards when the announcer was interrupted. He shared, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we just had another runner cross the finish line and we’d like to acknowledge her because she has placed in her age group!”

Betsy was 72-years-old, last in the race but she had placed 3rd!

Wow! If Betsy had quit she never would have placed.

My fears of coming in last then felt foolish and cowardly. Betsy was courageous and persistent and she was rewarded because of it.

God’s timing at times may take us out of our comfort zones but if we obey and persist there is a spot waiting for us on the podium.

Don’t quit my friends when life gets tough. Your reward is awaiting you if you just keep pushing on!

Have you ever come in last?

What reward or lesson did you receive from it?

The only part I dislike is getting ready for them.

We recently returned from a trip to Florida. The night before we left, our daughter Anastasia, had a swim meet. Weeks before I had promised her that we could still make the meet. I would work extra hard to get the packing done so we could leave for the meet with the suitcases packed and all we had to do after it was sleep, shower and head out the next day.

As you can imagine, life didn’t work out that way. I underestimated my “to do” list and overestimated the time I had to do it in.

Our pet sitter needed to stay a few nights at our house so I wanted to do deep cleaning of the house. However, my ADHD often goes in hyper drive when I clean. There is always so much to distract me from what needs doing.

The night of the swim meet was no different. I had just finished cleaning our tub and decided to clean the drain. I turned the water on full force to speed the process.

Squirrel! We’re late!! I better get Anastasia going!!

Six hours later we returned from the swim meet. Anastasia headed downstairs to hang up her towel. “Ew…it’s wet down here.”

Aw man! Did one of the dogs wet the floor. That’s ALL I need right now.

I headed downstairst to assess the damage when my foot steps on the carpet and is immediately covered with water. “The tub…I left it running!!! #$@!*&%$#” (I’m pretty sure that’s how you spell it.) Two inches of water covered the entire downstairs.

The next hours were spent moving all our furniture and belongings from the downstairs to the upstairs, calling a restoration crew and then finishing the packing at 2:00 in the morning.

Everyone worked together and no one complained – well, except for me. I was beating myself up, “What an idiot! What was I thinking? I need more margin in my life. I’m sooo sorry…”

I’ve heard it said that one of the tests of someone’s character is how they react in stressful situations. I’ve gotta say, my husband and kids have great character. This flood was the last thing we needed before leaving town. Not to mention that it the insurance deductible took a big chunk out of our play money. But no one pointed that out.

I share all this, not to brag on my family (although I am J). Mark remained calm and didn’t get angry at me for making a stupid mistake and this helped me to move beyond it. Beating myself up would not make it better but only drain me of energy – energy that was needed to move furniture that night too!

Being on the receiving line of Mark’s grace was a gift and it reminded me that I need to keep my pointer finger on my hand and not in someone else’s face. So the next time one of my kids feeds the dog the rest of their taco and then forgets to let them out or when Mark balls up his sweaty clothes and leaves them under our bed for a couple of weeks – instead of pointing a finger, I’ll use them instead to help clean up the mess.

Jesus seldom used his fingers to point blame. Instead He used them to help, hug, heal and to show the way.

When others screw up around you, what is your natural response?

Have you ever been on the receiving end of grace from another?

We had great weather in Boise yesterday so we decided to attempt a long bike ride with the kids. Our plan was to bike out so many miles, stop, eat lunch and give everyone a break and then return home. Fortunately our kids have outgrown toddler meltdowns but we’re heading full swing into the pre-teen moodiness and know-it-all phase.

Oh mercy!

Mark led the way, followed by Noah and Anastasia with me bringing up the rear (I’m trying hard to be mature and ignore the many uses of a pun here). Noah began to fall behind (oh the potential puns). His legs were spinning fast but producing little speed.

I pedaled up next to him and noticed he was in the wrong gear. “Hey buddy, if you change to your bigger ring, you’ll be able to go faster.”

“No. I don’t need to – I’m doing fine here.”

Okay, maybe I didn’t explain it well.

“The gear you are in now is better for going up hill. We are on flat pavement so a bigger gear will make it easier for you.”

“Nope – that one hurts my legs.”

Our banter went back and forth and we continued to fall further behind Mark and Anastasia. They eventually stopped and waited for us and when Mark heard our debate, he too tried to convince Noah.

After a while we succeeded but I was on the verge of a toddler-like meltdown myself.

Why must he challenge me on everything?!

Later that night I was praying for guidance on how to handle this new “don’t tell me how to live my life” ‘tude that has invaded my awesome little dude. I was in the middle of blaming it on his father when it hit me; I do the same with God.

How many times has He tried to give me instruction and I blow Him off, “No thanks. I’m comfortable where I am”?

At times He’s directing me to a bigger gear and to me bigger often sounds harder. But if I’d only listen and obey, it wouldn’t take long for me to discover I’d accomplish more with less effort – the same way Noah went faster with fewer pedal strokes once he changed gears.

It’s not always easy to accept the advice or give up control. But, when it comes from a loving and all-knowing God (not to be confused with know-it-all), it will always be in our favor to do so.

How about you, is it is easy for you to receive correction from others or God?

Do you ever give the pre-teen “tude” to God’s direction in your life?

I woke up at 2:00 a.m. and began thinking about an issue involving our 11-year-old son Noah. It was nothing major, just some ongoing growing pains with our tweener. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to worry, feeding the issue and before long, it grew to Noah dropping out of school and making license tags behind bars with “mom” tattoo on his arm under a skull with crossbones.

I finally fell asleep and when I awoke in the morning, it all seemed frivolous but it had left me robbed of much needed sleep and an unproductive day.

Pete Wilson’s new book Empty Promises, shares how the ancient Hebrew mindset saw the beginning of the day starting at sunset. Even in the Creation Story in Genesis 1 illustrates this, “Evening came and then morning – that was the first day.”

He points out that our culture sees the beginning of the day at sunrise, the time that we begin doing. However, based on the Creation story, it appears God sees the beginning of the day when we’re resting and He’s on watch.

I don’t think anyone would disagree that we’re in the middle of a sleep-deprived epidemic. We pop pills to go to sleep and chug expensive drinks to stay awake the following day.

I’m not a good sleeper and after my sleepless nights, I’m a walking zombie, failing to emotionally connect with people or God.

“Uh mom, you haven’t blinked in 5 minutes.”

“Oh, sorry! I must have dozed off with my eyes opened.”

There are many theories to our struggle to sleep – artificial light, diet, lack of exercise/movement, too much screen time, hormones, etc. – and I’m guessing most of these theories are true. But I fall asleep okay; it’s the middle of the night and my worry-athons that steal my slumber.

I began to wonder if Pete has a point – am I invading God’s watch? If He is my refuge, my place of safety, why can’t I rest? Perhaps I’m preparing for the day a little too late by waiting until sunrise to put on my spiritual armor.

When I was a missionary in Russia, I went through a period where I had reoccurring nightmares. An older member of my team believed it to be spiritual in nature.

She advised me to pray on God’s armor (Ephesians 6:10), not just in the morning but also at night (the beginning of the Hebrew day). She shared, “Satan will have a hay day with your mind when you sleep unless you cover it with prayer.”

I was reminded of this after reading Empty Promises. Last night, before I went to sleep, I prayed on God’s armor. At 2:00 I woke up again, but instead of worrying, I passed my concerns back to God and thanked Him for keeping watch over us.

You know what, I slept the rest of the night. Thank God He’s got my back.

Do you struggle with sleep?

How do you handle anxious thoughts at night?

One gentleman approached the table and snidely said, “Well, well, the faith of the presidents. I want to know what you have to say about our present one.”

He picked up the book and began scanning the last chapter. His conservative dress, cropped hair and the sarcastic tone in his voice quickly told me what he believed.

I was a bit nervous – was this opinionated, loud-talking man going to make a scene? It was near the end of the conference and I was a bit “people-out”. I didn’t have it in me to politely listen and keep eye contact without rolling them.

He closed the book and the judgmental scowl on his face disappeared, “You know, I have a problem with anger. God’s really working on me with it.”

Within seconds he went from bitterness to humility. His critical words transformed into wisdom and love.

He began sharing how he’s doing a study on anger and how he believes many of the teenage runaways and drug problems are due to parents like him who respond to their kids’ quirks in anger or frustrated tones.

As he spoke I went from resisting him to receiving the message God gave him.

God spoke to me. I too had a judgmental spirit. I had jumped to label my new friend as small-minded with nothing to offer. In reality, he is a humble man, with an anger problem, who is proactively working with God on it and sharing his testimony to help others.

Later that night, my sister and I talked about this gentleman. His message had impacted us both. If I had of met him elsewhere, and based upon my premature judgments, I’d probably have mentioned something about being scheduled for an organ transplant and politely excuse myself the moment his banter began.

But…I would have missed God’s message – one I needed to hear.

Working behind a table kept me there that day but it made me wonder how many other stories and lessons I may have missed because I judged the person by first impressions. Being in the publishing business you would think that I’d know better than to judge a book by it’s cover.

Have you ever judged someone by first impressions only to discover a treasure inside them later?

Has God shown you any similar lessons that you’d like to share?

A couple of weeks ago, Mark was out of town and I was trying to knock out cutting the grass before heading to a cookout. I tried a new technique of cutting the thicker, shaded areas first in hopes of having enough battery power to get me through the thinner, sun-scorched grass.

It didn’t work.

In fact, it left a horrible design on the yard that looked as if I had consumed a full bottle of wine on an empty stomach and then proceeded to cut it blindfolded.

Frustrated, I pushed and kicked at the motor, “You stupid piece of equipment!” (Okay, it was actually more colorful but I don’t want to pull you down with me here.)

The kids were sweeping as I was worked and Anastasia asked me, “Are you going to leave the grass like that?”

I had no power and no choice. “Yep. Let your father deal with it when he gets back.”

Yep, I was modeling mature behavior to the kids.

We headed in to shower and get ready for the party. A while later, as I pulled out of our garage, I see my next-door neighbor, Neil, cutting my front yard! He smiled and waved.

I jumped out of the car, “You’re the best neighbor ever!”

He laughed, “I figured you ran out of battery. I was on my way to cut Brenda’s. I just finish this up for you.” (Brenda is a widow, who lost her college age son in a car crash this year.)

This past weekend we had some water issues. I heard a strange noise out front and what do you know, it was Neil with a water vac, helping Mark and a friend clean it up.

Later that day I was working in a flowerbed and overheard him talking on the phone. He was helping someone figure out a computer problem.

As I continued working I began thinking about the many ways Neil has made our lives better. He’s always working on a project but he’ll drop it in a second to help out one of his neighbors.

Jesus summed up the God’s law telling us to love God and love our neighbor.

My days may be consumed serving at home and work but God reminded me this weekend to look outside with my serving –  to look around and cross the street.

Do you have any neighbor stories?

Is it harder for you to reach out to your neighbors than a stranger?

He is also our first love. The one we cried over as we held, unable to believe we’d get to take him home with us.

Growing up my father often described me as the daughter who marches to a beat of a different drum. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to marry or have kids. But that all changed with Mark.

Parenthood has taught me that many things are possible and in honor of my most favorite boy’s 11^th birthday, I’ll share a few with you.

I never knew it was…

-       Possible to eat breakfast, breast feed and put on make-up at the same time (Please kids – do not try this at home.)

-       Possible to clean up puke without puking myself (I never thought that would be possible – I have a strong gag reflex.)

-       Possible to lose hours of sleep worrying about a 3yr old playdate that “went wrong” (Yep, I’m embarrassed to admit this one. Can we say “helicopter psycho mom”?!

-       Possible to change a diaper in a 2×2 airplane bathroom in midst of sudden turbulence and without losing any of the “product” (I knew I had arrived as a mom that day.)

-       Possible to sleep with 4 people in our bed (I don’t recommend this if you want a large family…it’ll never happen if you know what I mean. Hee, hee)

-       Possible to live a week in only 1 pair of underwear (Noah did this – NOT me!)

-       Possible to fall in love before meeting someone (I loved them before I knew them.)

-       Possible to for my heart to expand every day.

-       Possible to intercede for someone without growing weary.

-       Possible for someone as selfish as me to completely rearrange and change her life for the two little ones.

-       Possible to love someone unconditionally with my whole being!

Happy Birthday Noah!!! I love you to the moon and back!!!

Thanks for letting me gush over my kiddos with you.

If you have any to add to this list funny or serious – I’d love to see them.

Noah’s cough started up this past week and today it was his turn to head to the doctor. When I walked up to sign him in at the doctor’s office, I swear the nurse looked at me funny, as if I were using my kids to get drugs or something.

Maybe I’m just being sensitive. Either way, I’m sick of the sickness and long for life to be back to normal.

However, I’ve noticed something different in Noah today…he’s talking with me more and even cuddling! He’ll turn eleven next week and each day he seems to pull more away from me and more towards his friends and his room.

Not today…he seems to want just me.

He smiled and perked up when I offered him tea. When I brought him his pillow and fixed a place for him to lie down, he didn’t protest. He even snuggled in to me at the doctor’s office as we played a game together. In a way, it was like old times when he was a toddler. (Can you say “old times” when you’re talking about a ten-year-old?)

It made me wonder, I’ve been working hard to urge Noah to develop more responsibility – clean his own bathroom, fold and put way his own clothes, etc. – have I’ve neglected serving him in love for fear that he’ll depend on me to do these chores forever?

Perhaps I’ve swung too far in the other direction. Who knows?

Well, as I try to figure this out, I think I’ll take advantage of having my favorite boy home with me and go fix him some lunch and eat together with him.

Either way, it’s been therapeutic to our relationship.

What do you think?

How do we balance teaching our kids to become independent without pushing them away prematurely?

Any parenting advice out there?

This past weekend Mark and I participated in our first triathlon. It was a great event for beginners as the swim on Friday in a pool and the bike/run portion on Saturday morning. It was a good race to practice doing a multi-event race before committing to a longer one.

However, a big part of me was still nervous about the swim. I knew that I could finish the 750-yard distance but feared that it would take me so long that the guy timing me may fall asleep and then I’d have to start all over.

My time to swim arrived and when I jumped into the water arms felt paralyzed as nervous energy darted from my heart to my limbs. I had set a goal to beat 20 minutes but the lead in my arms made it feel unrealistic.

I began swimming and at the end of my first lap I was ready to take a break but as I turned to begin my second lap, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was a friend from the tri-club. She had just finished her swim and had stayed to cheer me on.

Each mid-point I was tempted to stop and rest, but my friend remained at the end of my lane, cheering for me. In my vanity, I was too embarrassed to stop with her watching me and her words kept me going.

She was contagious. By my final lap, she had the guy timing me cheering for me too and I finished with a time of 14:28!

I was giddy. A goal had been accomplished and my friend’s words helped get me there.

The next morning, friends and family cheered me through the bike and run portion. At the end of the run one of my coaches met me at the finish line and greeted me with a hug and words of encouragement.

It was a great morning.

We went to a pre-Easter service that afternoon. A friend asked about the race and when I told him about the divided events he replied, “Oh, that’s not a real triathlon.”

Ouch.

Now I know my friend didn’t mean any harm with his words. They didn’t hurt my feelings – but the did steal my joy. A healthy joy that I was, well…enjoying. I have been sidelined for the past few years due to three knee surgeries and I was excited to participate in a race again.

It made me wonder how many times that I may have spoken without thinking and may have robbed someone else of his or her joy.

Words have the power to both give and steal joy. I’m going to work harder to speak words that give instead of taking away.

Has their been a time when words of others gave or stole you joy?

Even though pain is not fun, there’s positive that can come out of it. The pain in my leg is my body adjusting to a new workout that’s making me stronger. The scratchy throat is due to long phone conversation with my loving mother. And the broken heart was God’s separating me from a bad choice until the right one came along.

My survival instinct many times causes me to flee pain.

Growing up adults repeatedly shared the famous quote, “When the going get tough, the tough get going.” However, the only “get going” I wanted to do was away from the pain.

We live in a hurting world and the pain many of us face can be overwhelming.

Not long ago I saw an interview with J.K. Rowling, the author of Harry Potter. She talked about her mother’s death and the pain involved. She was extremely close to her mother. However, the pain she felt from losing her mother helped her fully capture Harry’s character. She was able grasp the pain he felt of not having a family.

Many charities were founded out of pain. Great works or art were created from pain. Scientific discoveries were motivated out of pain.

If we consistently flee pain instead of facing it, we miss out on a lot.

Facing pain – Awakens our souls to a deeper part of our being that has been touched by God. If we don’t go there, we miss God’s touch and seeing more of Him.

Fleeing pain– Closes up a wound faster but it leaves a scar on our heart that is numb. It prevents us from fully feeling love and life.

Facing pain – Initially breaks us down but after rest and healing we come back stronger, filled with wisdom.

Fleeing pain – Wears us down. When we flee, we are alone. When we are alone, there is no one around to help hold our arms up.

Facing pain – In time we become a source of healing for others. We can use our strength and pass it forward to others.

Fleeing pain – Stunts our growth and we become a burden. Insecurities develop and if we’re not careful, we pass it on to the next generation.

There are levels of pain that make it easier to face some over others. There is no formula to ease the process but there is a loving God who has experienced pain.

He was a refugee, poor. Maybe He carried the burdened of knowing thousands of babies were murdered because of his birth. He was betrayed. Single. Falsely accused. Spat upon. Beaten and treated like a thief.

Jesus lived in constant tension while here on earth. But, He didn’t flee. He was tempted to but instead of running He went to a garden, got on His knees and went face to face with God. And when He was done, He had the strength to not only face it pain that was ahead but to endure it.

He paid it forward to us. Because He faced His pain we can rest assured that one day our pain will be removed.

When we face God on our knees, He will carry our burdens and we can face anything.

How are you doing?

Are you fleeing your pain for facing it?

Maybe it’s time to go face to face with God in the midst of your pain.