Deep Breathing for the Soul

I’m not a fan of store-bought flowers, even florist-bought flowers. But I love having flowers in the house. I’m also not a big fan of Mother’s Day–or I should say, I’m not keen on the pressure we put on the day to be more terrific than any day is capable of being. My prayer that morning was “Lord, help me keep my expectations low.”

That may sound cynical–but that’s not my heart. Maybe if I sugar-coated it, I’d pray, Help me not to buy into the hype the world puts on this day. this is my 16th Mother’s Day as a mom. My family gives it their best effort.  I knew my husband would be furiously scribbling a card even as the kids hand me theirs. I knew my husband wanted to cook for me, even though it took him several hours to make dinner–I appreciated his efforts, if only for the fact that they made him appreciate my daily ability to get dinner on the table. But I think we put too much pressure on this day to be more perfect than it possibly can be. So I vowed to take the day as it came and find joy in it.

My family knows I prefer nice words, inscribed on homemade cards. (which I received this year, with great joy). Don’t get me flowers–I’d rather gather those myself. This time of year, there are plenty of flowers coming up in my garden–perennials I planted years ago, which return every May to delight me and remind me that life is always renewing itself, that God’s mercies are new every morning.

So on Mother’s Day morning, I wandered out to the garden, to shop in God’s free store for myself. Most of what’s blooming was small and close to the ground. Forget me nots, for example. Their finger-tip sized blossoms, intricate designs of periwinkle with a yellow center which can only be seen if you are inches away, often hide behind other plants (okay, weeds). Finding them is a delight.

I also noticed that Lily of the Valley was blooming. The narcissus were almost done, but I found two that were still in good shape. I added some fern frods–I have so many ferns in my perennial bed I’m tearing them out. They were choking the bellflowers. Here’s the bouquet I created from what was blooming in my yard–all perennials that come back each year. I far exceeded my own expectations, and found joy. If you didn’t get flowers this Mother’s Day, allow me to share mine with you.

I usually don’t share recipes on this blog, but since some of you have asked for the Mocha Bar recipe…One of the ways I show love to family and friends is by cooking. I don’t think that book on “love languages” included cooking, but that is definitely one of mine.

I used to overdo the baking around the holiday time. It’s fairly normal for me to make several kinds of quick breads (pumpkin bread, banana bread, etc.) and a bunch of different cookies. It was a tad obsessive, truth be told. And my husband would munch the cookies, but then complain that I had made him gain weight over the holidays. So I’ve cut back on my baking, and I try to give away the baked goods. I’ve already got a lot of loaves of bread in the freezer, ready to send to people on my list who seriously do not need another sweater! I mean, what do you get your 92 year old grandmother? Cookies and pumpkin bread.

One cookie that I have to bake enough of to both give away and keep are Mocha Cinnamon Bars. They are a tradition, with lots of memories, at our house. They’re very easy to make. I mentioned them on Facebook the other day and someone asked for the recipe. They freeze well, so you can make them now and freeze until Christmas.

Mocha Cinnamon Bars

Stir together 2 t. instant coffee crystals, 1/2 t. each of water, vanilla extract in small bowl. Set aside.

Stir together 2 c. flour and 1 t. cinnamon in another bowl. Set aside.

Using an electric mixer, beat together 1 cup butter or margarine (I use one stick of each), 1/2 c. each of brown sugar and granulated sugar on high until fluffy. Add one egg yolk, beat well. Then beat in coffee mixture, then flour mixture. Beat until combined.

Press the dough into a 9 by 13 pan. Bake at 350 for 15 to 18 minutes. When it’s brown and not gooey in the middle, take it out, and sprinkle with 1 cup chocolate chips. I use dark chocolate but you can use whichever kind you like. Optional: sprinkle with chopped walnuts or pecans. I skip those and sprinkle it with Christmas sprinkles. Cut while warm. They are very rich so I cut them in small squares.

My son Aaron waded gingerly into the murky water of the pond in the front lawn of our church. Along with hundreds of other people, he was getting baptized. In a large church like ours, baptism is a spectacle of sorts. People picnic on the lawn and cheer as a dozen people at a time are dunked under the water.

Ten feet out from the wooden stairs into the lake was Scott Rubin, the leader of Elevate, our junior high ministry. Scott knows our family, and knows Aaron. In a church that baptizes 300 people at a time and has close to 20,000 attending each weekend, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. To have someone know you is no small gift.

As Aaron stood between Scott and Jason (another leader from Elevate), I watched from the dock, my camera ready. He had gone into the pond with serious intentions—he did not take this step lightly. But as they stood there, waiting for others to make their way to other pastors and elders standing in the pond, Scott began talking to Aaron. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I watched Aaron’s expression change from serious to tender. He looked as if he were about to cry. I lifted my sunglasses so he could see my eyes, which were also filled with tears. Thankfully, my daughter was beside me taking photos, because I was too caught up in the moment to do much with my own camera.

He told me later that Scott had told him, “Aaron, you’ve got a great family, but this is just about you. God is watching you this moment, and this is about you and God.”

I’m sure that Scott said more to my boy in those few moments in the pond. I know he and Jason baptized a lot of junior high kids that day, and it would be easy for it to begin to feel routine for them. But I am so grateful that he made an effort to speak truth to my son, to affirm and encourage him in this important step. Scott and his wife Lynette have loved on both my kids for years, and I’m so incredibly grateful for their ministry at our church.

We talked at dinner about what happened—in his typical 13-year-old introvert way, he just told us some of the things Scott had said, and that he had felt like he might cry. He didn’t really tell us much about what he had felt, but when he came out of the water, he said he felt “achieved.” Which, I didn’t tell him, is not a feeling, precisely. But I know him well enough to understand.

He’s a quiet, creative child in a family of strong, leader types. But thanks to a sensitive and encouraging leader, he realized that this was his moment. A defining moment, a rite of passage, that no one else could do for him. He was following Jesus on his own, rather than being just swept along in the crowd of our little Christian family, or our big Christian church. To witness this day was a gift.

Here are some photos my daughter took at the lake. She’s definitely becoming quite the photographer. I love seeing her skills develop.

In the last few years, I’ve noticed something odd. When I would tell people that my daughter was 13 (or 14), they’d furrow their brow, and say “oohh,” with a mixture of cynicism and sympathy that I found puzzling. As if they were saying, oh, too bad, those are difficult years. I have not found that to be the case.

My daughter turned 15 yesterday, my son turned 13 three weeks ago. They are both delightful kids. Are they different from when they were younger? of course. They will ride in the car with me and say very little sometimes, but when my daughter and her friends are in her room, the chatter is constant. I think what helps is that I realize this is appropriate behavior, from a developmental point of view. I am trying to parent with the end in mind, and having them become more independent, having their friends take an increasingly important role, is a step in the right direction–toward growing up.

They still enjoy time with us, which is great. Last night, in our birthday tradition, my daughter got to pick the menu (steak and potatoes). We ate as a family, and went around the table, each saying what we liked about her.  (another important birthday traditon at our house). Her brother offered things like “you’re not always mean to me” which we laughed about and asked him to try and state in a positive way. Her dad and I each offered blessings as well.

We played Ping Pong, video games, and dominoes. We ate chocolate cheesecake and laughed.

All this week, during spring break, Melanie has either had her friends over or been at their homes. Our house has been full of noise and energy. Tonight we’ll have a group of her friends over for dinner and a sleepover, since they’re kind of beyond the age for birthday parties (which, I have to admit, is a relief. I was not so good at entertaining a bunch of kids for a few hours when they were younger).

I respect who my daughter is becoming–a woman of faith. I try to name her strengths out loud–she’s a leader, a loyal friend, kind, sure of her opinions–not just on her birthday but often.

Question:  what are some of the joys and challenges of parenting, in your experience? What advice or questions do you have?

My monthly For Your Soul column is up on the Today’s Children’s Ministry website.

Click here to read “Never Stop Growing”

Let me know what you think of it by leaving a comment here.

My 12-year-old son is a young man of few words. But I find that when we get to spend some time, just the two of us, he opens up a bit.

Yesterday afternoon, we drove downtown to do just that. We started with sushi at Tamarind, a very fun pan-Asian place I’ve discovered in the south loop. He loved that. We had a leisurely lunch and good conversation. We’re also both introverted, and therefore, comfortable with silence. so we had times of talking, and times of just hanging out.

After lunch, we walked over to the Auditorium Theater, an historic theater on Michigan Avenue, where we saw a performance of “Too Hot to Handel: A Jazz Gospel Messiah.” This innovative concert has a 150 voice choir, a full orchestra and three soloists performing Handel’s Messiah as you’ve likely never heard it before–with trumpet and saxophone solos, soloists who move from traditional style to scatting, and a level of audience participation not seen at most classical performances.

Aaron said the concert was “alright”–although he thought the drum solo was cool–but he liked the sushi best. When I take my kids out for one-on-one time, I try to find something to do that they will enjoy. But I also like to try and push the envelope a bit. To get out of our suburban surroundings into the city, to hear something he might not ordinarily choose, to have a cross-cultural experience (we were in the ethnic minority in the audience at the concert), to learn the give-and-take of relating to others.

Our afternoon in the city provided an opportunity to stretch my son’s world, and for me to tell him, “I’m so glad we did this, because I love spending time with you.” As a working mom, I don’t always get to say that.  But those are words my son needs to hear.

Tuesday is the best night, because neither of my kids has practice. No driving, no working in dinner around sports and carpools.

So after dinner, Aaron and I lay on the two couches in the living room, reading. Sweet silence, punctuated by the occasional sound of turning pages (truly one of my favorite sounds in the world).

And Aaron says, “Mom, want to hear a great literary device?” He’s reading To Kill A Mockingbird. “Of course,” I say. He reads this great line: “bacon frying, crisp as the twilight air.” Thank you, Harper Lee. What a sentence. Even better: that my 12-year-old recognizes a good sentence when he reads one,  and that he knew I would love to hear it.

No matter that he is counting the pages until he is done with his reading assignment for the night.  To share a literary moment with my pre-teen boy is a gift, and I try to savor the gratitude that rushes into my heart.

Last week we gave away free copies of my new book Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity. Those of you who responded will be getting something from Zondervan in the next month or so.

 Speaking of Sabbath, I got yet another letter from a reader who wanted to know why I think Sunday should be Sabbath. Well, centuries of tradition for one thing. But, actually, it’s a legitimate question. James wrote:
“I just read your article on “A Day set apart” on Christianitytoday.com. I really liked most of it, but my problem is I am confused where you got the idea that Sunday, is Sabbath?  In your article you quote about the 4th commandment…you also quote from Genesis where the evening and the morning constitute one day. So how is it that you yourself are confused about “what day” is the Sabbath day?  Continue Reading »

Hey, if you are looking for tips on simplifying your life, check out www.vickyandjen.com, a great website with podcast on “what really matters.” They’ve got great tips on keeping life and family simple, here’s a great reason to go visit their site and listen to their podcast: they’re giving away a great “parenting pack” that includes lots of goodies, including a copy of my book Breathe.

Just click here to straight to the contest page. And let them know that I sent you!