Seeing with New Eyes

I took the kids to the skate park for the first time yesterday. I was a little nervous about how they would fair in a fast-paced, wheels rule, move it or loose it kind of environment. I envisioned my children getting pushed out of the way or "jacking up" trick areas with their inexperience.  My fear of "hooligan skaters" bruising my kids fragile ego made me hesitant to even go in the first place. Of course, they both fell. They both made mistakes and got in the way of the more experienced riders. I expected that part. What I didn't expect to witness though, gave me a little  a lot more hope for the future of my children in this world. I witnessed patience. I witnessed grace. I witnessed encouragement. I witnessed helping. And all of these things from not only my kiddos, which was cool in itself, but I watched several other children act this way. Kids standing by waiting until the smallest member moved out of the way. Teens reaching down to pull the little

Yesterday started off with a bang. I woke up refreshed. My kids slept well and were happy. It all pointed to a day filled with peace and fun. And then...the familiar sound of screaming, crying, and tattling entered in. This was the third day in a row that I had to speak with my oldest about not using a physical means to get her point across to her brother. Not to mention the hurtfulness that spewed out of her mouth to her friend the day before.  Something bigger was sitting below the surface and she acted out of that. I can totally relate to her for so many of my days. Of course, my first instinct was to take all privileges away for the day. That wasn't getting at the heart of the issue. So, I sat her down and asked her what was going on inside of her. I'm not sure she even knew. She was just angry inside. But rather than try to dig for what it was, fix it, and move on, I felt she just needed to name the yuck inside as sin. Period.  We discussed how she could try and change th

A song came on during my workout this past Tuesday morning that hit me hard. Here are the lyrics: She just wants to be beautiful. She goes unnoticed. She knows no limits. She craves attention. She praises an image. She prays to be sculpted by the sculptor. As I listened to this song while “sculpting” my body, the words brought back a flood of emotions from being a young girl. I remember watching Miss Teen USA every year. Each winner (and contestant) had the perfect body, smile, hair, skin, and platform. I had high hopes of being that pageant winner one day.  That image of beauty was a standard set long ago in my mind and it was the farthest thing from my own image in the mirror. I so badly wanted to be noticed and adored by others. Being beautiful was equivalent to having value. While I’d like to say that I have since shrugged off the robe of insecurity, I can’t. It has even reared it’s ugly head as recent as my trip to Nashville this month. One comment by a stranger a