I don’t watch a whole lot of TV, but there are a few shows that have captured my attention.  One of them is Monk (on USA).  Have you watched it?  If not, you should.  Monk makes all of us feel better about our little OCD tendencies.  (And, I’m convinced, Monk makes my husband appreciate the fact that I’m not more crazy than I am!)  Since we tend to be early-to-bed types at our house, we usually end up watching a Tivo’d Monk at some later point and fast-forwarding the commercials.  But one thing I do not fast-forward is the opening theme song.  This little tune makes me smile as it portrays the very act of living as a huge risk, with danger lurking in the air, in the water – everywhere!  My favorite line is, “People think I’m crazy, I worry all the time; if you paid attention, you’d be worried too.”  Ha – I love it!  My loving husband can’t understand my own incessant struggles with worry (his favorite advice is, “well, just stop worrying”) and I always want to say to him, Look, if you really were aware of the potential danger here, you’d realize that a healthy dose of worry is fully warranted in this situation.

There was a recent post on a message board I frequently lurk on, entitled “What’s your biggest worry?”  I saw many familiar fears reflected in people’s responses:  worry about something happening to their children or husbands, worry about something happening to themselves and their children being left alone or without a mom, financial worries, health worries…you name it, someone out there is worried about it.  And being somewhat of a professional worrier myself, I’ve shared in all of those worries at some point.

I’m not sure if my propensity to worry is derived more from nurture (my mom can worry with the best of ‘em) or nature (that wide swath of melancholy sweeping through my temperament), but regardless of it’s source, God doesn’t let me off the hook.  There’s no concession for people like me:  ”Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.  Unless of course, you are prone to worry; in that case, cast most of your anxiety on him, but hold on to some of it to keep you company at night when you can’t sleep.” (1 Peter 5:7, KB version)  Nope.  Worry is simply not a valid option for dealing with things when you’re a child of God.  We have a sovereign, good, loving, all-powerful Heavenly Father – so worry becomes obsolete.

Yes, I’m sure there’s a fine line between being “concerned” about something and worrying.  And we are certainly expected to consider and prepare for the future.  But when I begin dwelling on “what ifs,” trying to control the uncontrollable, or spending my mental energy on trying to prevent or cause what only God can… I’ve entered the realm of worry, and I need to do something about that.

So what do we do?  The first clue is found in the real 1 Peter 5:7 – we cast it onto our Father.  Prayer is the first step, and should be my natural response to the first twinges of worry.  Sometimes, for me, it feels more concrete to write down my worries and present them to God in prayer through pen and paper.  The next step is really an ongoing one – knowing God.  The more I know Him, the more I study His attributes, the more time I spend reading about or recalling the things He has done, the easier it is to trust that He is in control and therefore, I don’t have to be. If I am consistent in practicing this step – and don’t just turn to it when I find myself in a panic – I’m more likely to avoid worry in the first place (well, most worry, anyway…).

Honestly, I tend to cast my cares on the Lord…and then take them back to worry about some more.  Then I cast them…and take them back…  the cycle goes on and I hope that in the end, I’m not the one holding on to them.  My tendency to worry frustrates me – I’d love to “conquer” it, once and for all.  But I’m afraid it’s one of those things that I’ll be dealing with for a long time.  So I try to look at it this way:  I can be thankful for this weakness because it is something that reminds me so vividly of my need for God.  Anything that drives me to my knees is something that I can thank God for allowing in my life.

I was blessed with two wonderful roommates during my freshman year of college. These two incredible ladies – Kathy and Shelah – showed me in many ways what it meant to follow Jesus. And as an added bonus, we had a blast together that year. Our personalities blended into a crazy, silly, deep, intimate, forever-kind of bond that has lasted these past 15 years. I have countless memories of unforgettable times with them. One of my favorites, however, is the “list of insurance claim statements.” Curious?

One of us (I can’t even remember who) stumbled across a list of statements that actual drivers made on their insurance claim forms after a car accident. We found the list in Chuck Swindoll’s Come Before Winter, and I remember reading the list aloud to Kathy and Shelah, sending all of us into fits of giggles. If there had been just one or two statements, it might not have been so funny. But by the time we heard 20 of these absurd claims, we were rolling on the floor. Here’s a few of them:

• “As I approached the intersection, a stop sign suddenly appeared in a place where no stop sign had ever appeared before. I was unable to stop in time to avoid the accident.”
• “The telephone pole was approaching fast. I attempted to swerve out of its path when it struck my front end.”
• “I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way.”

We loved them so much that we decided to share the joy.

We printed up the statements and posted them on our dorm room door for the entire hall to enjoy. Then came the really fun part. At any random time of day or night, we would suddenly hear laughter coming from the hall right outside the door. Then that person would snag their roommate or friend and before long, someone else was getting tickled by the silliness of the list on our door. We loved that we were able to share the gift of giggles with our hall-mates.

Isn’t it easy to lose our sense of silliness and humor in the midst of the day-to-day? I know it is for me. I am so easily caught up in the details of my responsibilities and bogged down in the concerns of life that I forget to take time out to laugh. Being a mom helps, though. There’s nothing quite as adorable as a baby’s laugh and there’s something special about watching a preschooler giggle so hard he can’t talk. So I’ve tried over the years to make sure I’m deliberately infusing our home with laughter, silliness, and a sense of humor. I don’t want to lose sight of this goal, although it would be easy to. To that end, I make sure I read the joke pages in Reader’s Digest, keep a book of humorous essays on hand, and spend a few moments tickling my son’s ribs or his funny bone. I make a point of laughing at my own mistakes, relishing God’s sense of humor that He has generously displayed in nature, and writing down the cute & funny things C. has said over the years. It keeps me laughing, and in turn, I love sharing that laughter with my family.

What do you do to keep a spirit of levity and laughter alive in your home?

I originally wrote this about a year ago, but thought it was worth revisiting

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C. has a plan. Though he is only six, he’s thought long and hard about the future and is quite certain that it will involve a wife and a number of kids (and, oh yeah, a job probably). We’ve had discussions about how one picks a wife (“But Mom, how will I really know who would be just the right wife?”). He’s informed me that he and his wife will be living in our current house (apparently we – the ‘old folks’ – can choose to stay, or go find our own place). But the other day, we had a talk that nearly made me cry.

It occurred in the car, as most meaningful talks seem to, and I can’t even remember what started the conversation. But somewhere in the talk, C. realized that his dad and I love each other (& him) in a special way – and that we are more united with each other than with our own moms and dads. While he likes the feeling of having an “A-mediate family,” as he calls it, within the sometimes craziness of the extended clan, this whole concept troubled him.

“Mom…I don’t think I could love other people more than I love you and dad.”

Okay. I started blinking. It’s generally not a good idea to have eyes filled with tears while driving. I wanted to say, That’s wonderful, honey! You can live with us and love only us forever! I couldn’t. I try hard to be honest in these conversations that he takes so seriously. So, injecting a little gentle reality, I told him:

“Sweetie, we will always have a special love for each other. You…me…dad. That will never change. And you know I’ll always love you with all my heart, right?”

“Right.”

“But someday, when you find that ‘just right’ girl who you want to marry, you might find that you love her in a special way – different than you love dad and me. And you’ll want to be in a new ‘immediate family’ with her. And that’s okay. In fact, it’s a good thing. God wants you to love your wife more than anyone but Him.”

—silence from the back seat—

Finally after some heavy-duty thinking:

“Well, okay. But mom?”

“Yes buddy?”

“I really don’t think I can love my wife more than I love you.”

[Pause] And then:

“Maybe I can love you both the same. Would that be all right?”

“Of course it would. I love you, C..”

“Love you.”

Okay – you noticed I slipped there. I skipped the reality part and embraced the pure, unfiltered love of my 6-year-old boy. Lord, I love him so much.

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When C. was a baby, I remember looking at his face and catching brief glimpses of what he would look like when he was older. An expression, something about his eyes, the shape of his face – they offered predictions of a ‘big boy.’ I know that boy now. I see him every day.

Now, sometimes when I’m watching C., I get glimpses of what it will be like to let him go someday. It’s not his eyes or his expressions this time. It’s his dreams, his plans, how he learns, his passions. I can almost pre-feel (not a word, I know) a shadow of the pain in my gut that will be the releasing. I have no idea how moms do it.

I’ll say right here that I have no plans to be a clingy, obsessive mom who flings guilt-trips and whines about liberally. No way – I have deals in place with more than one friend to “not let each other be like that.” I know that my job as parent is to watch over this precious, priceless gift until he has attained independence…and then to grant that independence freely. I get that. It’s how things work.

But I also get the pain that every mom feels when their 18-yr old drives off to freshman year in another state. How every dad feels walking his daughter down the aisle – to hand her off to that punk waiting at the front. Yeah, I know, he’s only 6. But I can almost see it, almost feel it sometimes. And I know that only by God’s grace will I be able to be graceful about releasing my grip on his hand and his heart.

So for today, I pray that I would treasure more, listen more, be present in body and mind more. God, help me put away my selfishness and remember that I will turn around and tomorrow he’ll be saying, “Bye, mom.” Let me savor every day, every moment, every giggle.

I spent some time lingering over a vanilla caramel creme at Starbucks last night. They are promoting a new movie called “akeelah and the bee,” about which I know nothing. But as part of their promotion, they have coasters and cards scattered on their tables with unique words and their definitions. So, for your verbal enjoyment, I will give you a few:

• Cambist – one who is skilled in currency exchange
• Logorrhea – excessive talkativeness
• Eudaemonic – producing happiness
• Meticulosity – extreme care and precision; attention to detail

Your challenge: Use one of these words today and let me know which one you used!

Maggie was the first person I met in Kindergarten (I clearly recall her showing me where to deposit my milk-money envelope). We were classmates for the next 13 years – through public elementary school and then prep school, fellow cheerleaders, study partners, class government cohorts. We had different circles of close friends, but always got along well with each other. And in the end, we were fellow geeks – I was valedictorian and she was salutatorian of our graduating class. We prepared and delivered our speeches, and then went our separate ways. Although we touched base a few times after graduation, I hadn’t been in contact with her in the last ten years.

Then I found her web-site.

Maggie is living in New York City, has a life/career coaching business, serves as head of corporate training for Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, hosts a twice-weekly radio program about careers on SIRIUS radio… Need I go on?

I’m not really surprised. Maggie was always driven to succeed. I enjoyed excelling in school, because I’m a natural nerd, but Maggie was determined to do well no matter what. So the fact that her current résumé is so impressive…well, it’s a logical result of her ambition and hard work. I’m thrilled for her and excited about all the opportunity she has.

As a point of comparison, however, my résumé looks something like this:

Wife and stay-at-home mom who is good at handling details and keeping the family on an even keel. Fills in some spare moments with freelance writing. Tried working several “real jobs” and didn’t really like any of them; decided she wasn’t cut out for a “career.” Not particularly passionate about typical “homemaking duties” either. Currently investing time in growing a second child and surfing the Internet.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love being available for my son (and soon-to-arrive baby #2) and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I believe I’m where I’m supposed to be. But I wonder…where is my ambition? I don’t want a successful “career,” but I’ve wondered – should I? Should I be more passionate about being published – I’m sure it would make a difference in my “list of credits” – or is it okay to have a season of life when my focus is elsewhere?

Why do I feel so mediocre all of a sudden?

I’m sure most of this is because I’m comparing. And I shouldn’t. But something good has come from all of this. I asked myself, “What should I be passionate about? Where should my ambition shine through?” Here’s what I came up with:

• Following God and becoming more like Him
• Loving, teaching, protecting, & encouraging my children
• Supporting and loving my husband
• Using the gifts God has given me

There’s more, I’m sure. But these four are a good starting point. My drive to succeed in these points isn’t perfect or constant, but it’s there – they are the things that mean the most to me. And if I can look back in 15 years and see improvement, I’ll be pleased with my own résumé, even if it won’t land me a job at Martha Stewart Omnimedia.