Applause erupted as our daughter stood to receive her third award of the evening. She beamed with excitement while walking on stage. I listened to the praise of both her teachers and peers. My heart swelled with joy. Their words confirmed what I already knew—she’s an incredible kid.
At the same time, I ached for her brother, who received no awards that night. He’s an amazing kid, too. He did well in his classes, and his kind, fun-loving personality won him many friends. Still, he took home no awards.
Oh, the depth of conflicting emotions a parent’s heart can hold in the same moment.
On the way home, our son commented, “I wonder why I didn’t get any awards.” I turned in the front passenger seat and looked at him with compassion. I’ve experienced these gut-wrenching feelings before, too. I know what it’s like to anticipate affirmation and come away disappointed. I know how hard it is to celebrate with a friend while trying to mask my own pain.
How can we help our kids deal with rejection?
For 6 ideas on preparing them for both disappointment and success, hop over to Crosswalk:
I’d just gotten off the phone with my friend and the kids’ beloved babysitter. She’d called to say she was on her way over to pick something up.
Our seven-year-old daughter heard my side of the conversation and couldn’t contain her excitement over seeing an actual person somewhere other than a computer screen.
When our friend arrived, the kids rushed onto the front porch to say hello. Though we maintained a six-foot distance and chatted in the front yard, it felt good to enjoy a face-to-face conversation.
Months of social distancing have taken their toll. But they’ve also taught us the value of human connection. Of sharing life with the people who live in our spaces.
It’s easy to take for granted those we love the most. Even in our families, we can unintentionally live parallel lives and forget to enjoy the relationships within our own walls.
I’m thankful for the reminder to see my people. To value our interactions and invest in those around us.
Here are four ways we can be intentional in cultivating togetherness in our homes:
Make room for fun
I’m a bit of a no-nonsense person. At any given moment, I could recite the mental to-do list looming in the back of my mind. Most days, work feels more important than play. Yet if I wait until it’s all done, I’ll never stop to enjoy our life.
I’m learning to see the value in play. For in those moments when we’re simply enjoying each other, I learn a lot about my people — their strengths, their passions, their sense of humor. And I realize that the memories we’re making help build our family and solidify the relationships we share.
So make room for fun — family movie nights and afternoon board games, books read aloud and hikes through the woods, cookie baking and Lego building, bike rides and jumping together on the trampoline. It all adds up to shared experiences and hearts drawn close.
Prioritize one-on-one time
While family time is priceless, our kids need one-on-one time with us, as well. They need to feel seen. To know we like them and want to spend time focused on them.
Ask what they’d like to do together – just the two of you – then do your best to make it happen. I love seeing each child’s personality shine as we spend these times with one another. My oldest daughter likes to scroll through Pinterest or just sit and talk. My son usually wants to build with Legos or take a bike ride. My littlest enjoys baking something we’ve never made before or reading a book.
If you have more than one child, be creative in occupying your other kids while focusing on just one of them. You can designate a “quiet time,” where everyone spends 30 minutes playing or reading in their room. Or set out coloring books on the kitchen table while an audio book plays in the background. Or make a stack of board games for them to play together. Be sure each child knows this is a special time for just you and their sibling, but that they can look forward to their turn soon.
Planning for these times takes some intentionality, as well as a good dose of spontaneity, but it’s well worth making a priority.
Face hard things together
The Bible talks often of the value of facing life with another person. (See Ecclesiastes 4:9-12.) Especially in the hard times, our kids need to know we’re with them and for them. Whether it’s a worldwide pandemic or the uncertainty of a new school year, let’s give our kids the gift of knowing they’re not alone — that come what may, we’re in this together. And that even when we don’t have all the answers, we’ll walk through uncertain times with them.
Recently, God taught me that this concept of togetherness is also helpful when I must administer discipline. As our perfect Father, He wants to walk through hard times with us — even when they’re the result of our own foolish choices. So when possible, face the consequences with your child. If it’s a time out, have them sit in the room with you. If it’s an added chore, grab another broom and help them sweep the floor.
Let’s make sure our kids know we’ll face the future with them.
Invite them in
In Romans 14, we’re reminded to accept those who are different from us, because God also accepts that fellow believer. In the Bible’s original Greek, the word “accept” carries the connotation of welcoming into friendship.
I love that picture and the application it has on day-to-day family life. Each family member is so very unique, yet God calls us to welcome one another into friendship.
Invite them to work with you in the kitchen. Let them join your no-longer-quiet “quiet time.” Share your struggles and what God is teaching you through them. Let them walk with you through the ups and downs and ins and outs of everyday life.
As families, we have the privilege of enjoying human connections each and every day. Let’s invest in those relationships and be purposeful about doing life together.
Maybe it’s an echo of Eden or a yearning for things to come, this drive I have for perfection.
I long for things to be just so, for everything to fit in neat and tidy boxes, for the day to go as planned and all our stuff (aka clutter) to stay neatly organized.
Christmastime is no exception.
Actually, my drive for perfection may be even more intense this time of year. I want the tree trimmed symmetrically (I have been known to readjust ornaments after the kids go to bed), the shopping to be done ahead of time, and the menu to be memory-worthy. I long for quiet evenings by the tree with a cup of tea and a good book. And I want it all to progress slowly enough for everyone to enjoy the season.
But sometimes, most of the time, real life doesn’t fit in my ideal little boxes.
Right now, I’m sitting in front of the Christmas tree and a whole section of lights is out, despite the time my husband spent restringing all the lights (several times, but we won’t mention that frustrating fact.)
And it’s crazy early in the morning right now, but the jet lag from my mission trip 12 time zones away has my sleeping patterns all out of whack.
And the Christmas cards arrived from the printer on time, but they looked so awful I had to have them redone. Guess they’ll be late this year.
I realized, however, that these little details really are minor frustrations. For many people, Christmas is a time of deep sadness. Tears well up in my eyes as I remember friends who’ve suffered great loss recently. My dear mentor told me not a Christmas goes by without her thinking of loved ones not present at their holiday gatherings.
Real life is messy and full of heart-breaking disappointments. Christmas has a way of accentuating that pain.
Nothing in real life is truly Pinterest perfect.
But that’s why Emmanuel came.
Everything was perfect in His heavenly home. Perfectly sinless. Perfectly painless. Perfectly perfect in every way. Jesus was honored and served and adored there.
But you see, He loved these humans He’d created. The ones who’d traded in their perfect relationship with Him for a shot at doing life on their own – and we’ve been living with the fallout from that bad decision ever since (all the while adding our own sinful messes to the mix).
Yet no matter how broken humankind was, God wouldn’t stop loving them. He’d appear in their imperfect world, live among them, and make a way for their relationship with Him to be restored.
He wouldn’t do it our way, though. No royal palace, no sterile birthplace – Jesus stepped down right into the middle of our brokenness.
He entered a virgin’s womb, and everyone doubted his mother’s integrity. He showed up in a jam-packed town and only the animals made room for Him. Smelly shepherds were His greeting committee and foreign dignitaries paid Him homage, while most of His own failed to notice His arrival.
His hometown was despised. His people oppressed. For most of His life, He was simply “The Carpenter’s Son.” Thirty of His 33 years were spent in obscurity.
When His ministry officially began, He defied everyone’s idealized notions of how this Messiah thing should be done. Instead of conquering Rome’s oppressive regime, He said, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s” (Mark 12:17, NIV). While others clamored for first place, Jesus took off His robe, knelt before His bickering followers, and washed their filthy feet (John 13).
He loved the unlovely. He forgave the unworthy. He turned the world upside down.
This is the Baby we celebrate at Christmastime. So why on earth do we bustle so frantically to make sure everything is just right?
That first Christmas was a stunning display of God’s ability –affinity even — to create beauty, not in our perfection, but from our brokenness.
He’s present in the process, not just the finished product.
This is our Emmanuel – the God who’s right here with us, with all our struggles and heartaches, our warts and bruises and scars.
God’s idea of the perfect Christmas is vastly different than ours, which is really comforting to me. It reminds me that there’s beauty in this very moment, untidy as it is, if I’ll just be still and embrace it.
His presence is the heart of the Christmas spirit, so life doesn’t have to be perfect to celebrate the season.
As we count down the last few days until December 25th, let’s look for Jesus in each moment, bringing Him our heartaches, our disappointments, our frustrations.
Let’s choose present over perfect, memory-making over striving, and surrender to His plan over clinging to our own.
Let’s celebrate God’s work right now, even as we long for the perfection that will one day be our reality.
How about you? How are you finding rest in the middle of the Christmas crazy? I’d love to hear – please leave a comment below!
“I’m writing a note to God,” my preschooler announces proudly.
She thoughtfully scribbles her message on a 3×5 card, then opens the hinged lid of our ”Blessing Box” and adds her note to the jumbled mess of index cards. It looks disorderly, even confusing, but to me it’s a beautiful mess.
Each of those mismatched cards is a record of something important to us – a three-year old’s note to God, a list of things we’re thankful for, a prayer request and its subsequent answer.
I wish I could say we are systematic in adding cards to our blessing box. I wish I could tell you how often we take it out and read its contents. But, alas, this busy mama is far less organized and consistent than I like to admit.
Despite my unfulfilled great intentions, however, there it sits on my grandmother’s hutch in our bustling dining room—a constant reminder to count our many blessings, an ever-present invitation to recall the faithfulness of God.
We add to it at random. We open it up and read on occasion.
Like the other night when my oldest daughter put the box on the table before dinner. She gave each of us a blank card and instructed us write something for which we are thankful. Then she passed around the box for us to drop in our card and pick out another to read aloud.
Or the other morning when the kids and I all had bad attitudes and needed to reflect on God’s good gifts—our family and friends, an air-conditioned home, clothes and shoes, food and clean water, and the fact that Jesus loves children (my three-year-old’s contribution). Our focus shifted as we remembered the good things we’ve been given.
Or that season a while back when money was tight and work was slow. I recorded a very specific prayer request for provision and was thrilled to record God’s answer the very next day.
Many a memory is preserved in our treasured blessing box.
Do you have a place to record things for which you’re thankful? In case you’d like to create your own blessing box, here’s how we did it:
Choose a box – I picked one that fit our décor, because I planned for it to have a permanent home in a prominent location. I love the hinged lid because it’s easy for little hands to open (and can’t get lost!)
Stock up on pens and index or thankfulness cards. — We keep these in a nearby drawer so they’re always handy when we have something to record.
Get everyone involved — Our family knows that anyone can add to or read from our blessing box at any time.
This has been a great tool for us in cultivating gratitude and making memories as a family.
How do you count your blessings? I’d love to hear — please leave a comment below!
The question tugged at the corners of my soul as I trudged through each day. A dark cloud hovered over every waking moment. And sleep? That was a struggle, too. I had one bed-wetter and another child with night-terrors, so the sleep I did get was often fragmented and restless.
How I hated mornings. I dreaded facing a new day.
How can I be a good mom when I feel so sad, so weary, so…depressed?
Numbness presided over my heart. Things that used to bring joy now seemed empty and hollow. Routine tasks overwhelmed me with paralyzing force. I didn’t want to go out, didn’t want to do fun activities with my kids and especially didn’t want to talk about how I was really feeling.
Depression carries such a stigma. If I admitted my daily struggle, I feared people would see me as weak or unspiritual. They might lecture or give unhelpful help. They might judge me.
Oh, what a prison depression can be. It’s like walking through a deep, dark valley with insurmountable cliffs towering high above, blocking out any ray of light or hope for escape.
I’ve spent time there and come out the other side. May I share with you what I learned?
Get real with God.
Jesus calls Himself “the God of hope” and invites us to pour out our hearts to Him.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Romans 15:13 ESV
“Trust in Him at all times, O people. Pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8 ESV
His heart is kind and full of compassion, not condemnation. He can handle our pain and is not disappointed when we struggle. He is still a miracle worker and healer of hearts.
Let others in.
It’s hard to own this struggle, but admitting our need and asking for help is a huge step in the healing process. Maybe it’s a trusted friend or a prayer group that can lift us up before God. Maybe it’s a doctor who can evaluate things from a medical perspective.
Do something for yourself.
This may sound selfish, but sometimes it’s the healthiest, most unselfish thing we can do. We can’t pour into the lives of others if our own tank is on empty. Find something that gives you rest, even enjoyment, and make room for that in your life.
Progress, not perfection.
The day may seem daunting, the job overwhelming. Instead of striving for perfection, aim for progress and rejoice in each step.
Our God is patient as He forms Christ in us. He is not in a hurry, nor is He disappointed that we’re not further down the road to recovery. Becoming like Jesus is a life-long process that God is committed to completing.
“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6 ESV
Depression is a cruel companion, but it does not define us. We are not helpless victims, but treasured children of an all-powerful God. He is always close at hand and has made us more than conquerors through His unconditional love.
But sometimes, most of the time, real life doesn’t fit in my ideal little boxes.
He entered a virgin’s womb, and everyone doubted his mother’s integrity. He showed up in a jam-packed town and only the animals made room for Him. Smelly shepherds were His greeting committee and foreign dignitaries paid Him homage, while most of His own failed to notice His arrival.
