How do I ask my husband for help?

I could see her in my mind as I read her email:  

"I'm typing this with one hand and one thumb, wondering if you could help me - I'm struggling as a mom and wife. To give a little context... Right this minute I'm holding in my arms my sweet 16 month boy. He's my only child. This is not how I'd prefer to do his daily 2 hour nap time, but here I am. I'm kind of struggling with parenting. This 2 hour naptime is one of many reasons I find myself desperately craving a break. I don't have family that supports us as we fumble through parenthood. We feel rather alone. But what's become hardest for me right now is the inequality of free time (personal time, me time) that my husband and I each get. He is able to take off for a whole day to do things like bike ride thru the countryside or go on a day long relay run with friends and out for dinner. While all that I can get is an hour or two to go to the store alone or clean house because I'm so very behind on taking care of things. I feel like God would probably want me to just let this issue of inequality of free time go - aren't we called as mothers to sacrifice more than our husbands? He has a job he loves and coworkers he enjoys. I guess I don't see how he could have a greater need for more free time than I do. Can you help me? How do I ask my husband for help?

This woman could have been me six years ago - only my 16 month old baby had two preschool aged brothers running around in their Thomas the Train underwear, dripping popsicles on the carpet and leaving facets running in every bathroom in the house.  All the while I tried to get the baby back to sleep.

By the end of the day, with dinner finally on the stove, my husband walked in with a broad smile and a fresh haircut.  All three boys yelled "daddy," then ran to him with enthusiasm, but all I saw was the haircut. He'd said he would be home early that afternoon, but obviously early meant he now had the time to stop for a haircut.  I hadn't had a haircut in 16 months.  I was out of moisturizing cream.  I haven't been to the dentist in two years.  But he stopped for a haircut.

All the scripture I'd hidden in my heart came rising up and rang in my ears, "Greater love hath no (woman) than this, that (she) lay down their life for (her family.)" It was my own translation of God's Word, as I resolved to serve selflessly at home. So I smiled back at my guy, pulled my tangled hair back in a bun, and pushed my needs down further still.

Except eventually, without fail, I'd break down crying - and it would ultimately all bubble up and out with hot tears in just the wrong way, at just the wrong time.  And he'd feel attacked.

This was our cycle for many years.  He worked hard all day and tried his best to be present when he got home.  I worked hard at home, trying to not resent him for the casual way he still seemed to get all his needs met.  As I did dishes and bathed kids and folded laundry, he'd tell me about which friend he was able to meet up with for lunch that day, or I'd find a movie ticket in his pants pocket as I started the eleventh load of wash.

We didn't learn to communicate well in those early parenting years.  And it never felt like I could share my struggle with other women because their advice never settled right in my spirit.

"You need to tell him what you need!  You should have more help.  He needs to do this... You tell him that you want him to..."

So I retreated further into what I imagined Christian submission looked like, all the while pushing through resentment, muscling my way through bitterness, until the next time it all bubbled up and out again.

And then one Sunday, sitting on the patio at church while the children enjoyed a second hour of Sunday school, we decided to ditch our adult fellowship class and simply sit and talk.  And I mean, we really talked.  I wasn't crying and he didn't feel attacked.  Truth be told, it sort of felt like a miracle, even the memory makes me tear up.

That Sunday was the beginning of something extraordinary.  And every Sunday thereafter, for the next few months, we sat together on the patio hearing and healing.

Here are four practical things I learned as we sat together on the patio at church week after week:

1) GOD CARES ABOUT MY NEEDS - While God designed moms to sacrifice and "lay down their lives" for this intense season at home, He never intended for us to actually DIE!  He is absolutely enamoured with moms.  He loves us to the moon and back.  We are the apple of His eye.

We are as much His children as our children are His children, and His love for us has no end.  He came that we might have life, abundant and free.  But He knows full well that mothering is hard, and wants us to have His help in the weary years with our young.

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young. (Isaiah 40:11)

There is nothing harsh nor demanding about God's love for mothers.  He wants to gently lead us through our days and our trials. Sitting on the porch, my guy with a coffee and me with a sweet cup of chamomile tea, I began to learn this.

2) BELIEVE THAT YOUR HUSBAND WANTS TO HELP YOU - Early on in our marriage we coined the phrase "EXPECT THE BEST." I'll be honest with you - we both forgot a time or two in the busy years with babies, but we've always come back to this basic creed. EXPECT THE BEST.

Can I tell you something about your husband and mine? They never set out to take advantage of us. Your man didn't marry you with this hidden agenda of using you like a maid and a cook, a wet-nurse and a sex-toy. He took those vows seriously, and he still does.  It's possible he simply doesn't know what to do right now.   But he wants to. You know he'd take a bullet for you right?  That's not elusive.  But you and your needs... somehow that can be.

His vow was to love and support you, cherish and hold you, in good times and bad, during those precious honeymoon years, and these pressing ones with little people waking us multiple times through the night for months on end. He's tired.  You're tired.  But commit to believing that he has good intentions where you and the kids are concerned - even if you can't see them today, believe they are there.

3) CREATE A WEEKLY SAFE ZONE - Finding a safe block of time each week to address your challenges can be life altering!  Knowing that I had that Sunday hour coming up gave me hope daily, because I knew that he would listen with ears purposed to hear my heart.  I didn't explode because "Sunday was coming." That gave me great comfort.

Now I know that many of you don't have the finances or family nearby to make a date night feasible, but figuring out some way to create this time together each week is crucial.  Maybe it's a Thursday night date night on the couch, or on the back porch under the stars. Something, anything, as long we it's safe and consistent time together.

4) ASK HIM FOR HELP - Sure, you knew this was coming, but there's a twist in my advice.  Don't outright tell him how you want him to help you (Unless he's the kind of man who asks you to tell him exactly what you need.) Instead, try to remember that at the core of most men is a heart that wants to rescue and serve.  Share with him what needs you have that are going unmet, then ask him to work with you to make a schedule that will allow you to get those core needs met. Engage him by asking for his opinion, not just his help. 

I said something in this price-range:

"Sweetheart, my only time alone these days is when I run to the grocery store, and I always feel anxious when I'm gone, like I need to hurry back and start making dinner.  I know that you don't want me to feel stressed, but I do.  I cold really use your help to come up with a consistent schedule that wouldn't just give me more time for errands, but would allow me to fit more of the things I need and enjoy (without baby) back into our lives again.  Work outs, friendship, my interests. I feel like I'm losing myself right now, and I need you to rescue me.  Would you help me?  

What do you say we look at your weekly calendar and figure out two times a week for me to get out to get things done.  And maybe one Saturday a month when I can go to the hair salon or shopping with friends or just take a walk on the beach or whatever.  Maybe I should choose a weekday every few months so I can get to the dentist and the doctor and that stuff.  Do you think I should hire a babysitter for those days since you have work?  What do you think?  Do you have any other ideas?

As the weeks go by, my guess is that your husband will see how basic yet crucial your needs really are - and as your joy begins to wax and your resentment begins to wane he will likely suggest more ways to communicate his love to you. "You know, we really do need to have some date nights that aren't at home.  Would you set up a babysitter so I can take you out."

It might not go as smoothly as I'm painting the picture here, but it's a start - a good, safe, healthy place to begin.  So take a deep breath and remember that you are loved by God, that He never intended you to actually lay down your life to the point of death during these mothering years. Remember also that you are loved by your husband too, and that communication is possible.  So find a safe time and place, ask him for his help, and expect the best.

With much love and respect for all you do,

Wendy

What I learned from taking pictures of my children

I have a slight obsession with taking pictures of my children and the home we live in.  Holidays like Easter only intensify the problem... um, er, I mean experience, with all the color-coordinated goodness and styled hair, beautifully laid tables with flowers fresh from the garden.  It's all too much to let pass without a picture (or 117 of them) to remember the day by.  So this mom calls incessantly for children to come have their pictures taken again... because the light is simply too perfect! Ahhhh... the natural light absolutely arrests me when it hits the awning causing everything to spill so evenly. "Wait!  Wait! Don't take off your church clothes, let me get one more shot of you boys together!" Miraculously they come again, as the aroma of honey-baked ham fills the house and ice cubes begin to melt, causing the glasses of lemonade to make that wonderful cling-clanging melody throughout the home.

If only a picture could capture the whole essence of family togetherness. The sound of laughter and the scent of jasmine as it mingles with orange blossoms on the springtime breeze - My mom in the kitchen washing dishes and my husband walking through the dry grass on the back hill - The youngest flashes a smile with chocolate caked around his face and I laugh.  He laughs back, though he has no idea why.  All of it. I want to capture all of it.

Artistic moms who interpret life through lenses, paint brush, instruments or pen, are often tempted to rush past the living moments, to document the experience of having lived.  In so doing, of course, they miss some of the present richness of simply living life.  Tasting the ham rather than photographing it, touching the soft skin of their beloveds, rather than backing up to frame the picture just so.  Leaning into the laughter instead of running toward the computer to upload a fresh batch of images.

It's a constant pull for creative women who are loving their families, all the time inspired to write down words, pick up instruments, set up the easel, redecorate a room, refinish that bedside table. But the moments are ticking by, and our job is to savor with our hearts each tick-tock slow-moving one of them, because together the minutes are sprouting wings and taking to flight.

Yes, the days are long, but the years are short, and I don't just want pictures of my children when they are grown and gone, I want memories. Memories heavy laden with all five senses. It's hard to take it all in behind a heavy camera with an impressive zoom. Similarly, you may (or may not) have noticed that I'm barely writing one blog post a week around these parts.  I've found that this year I simply can't be the mother, wife, daughter, friend, homeschool parent I want to be if I do more than that... not if I want to live life.

 Choose Life.

Put down the camera phone, look up, and choose life.

Savor motherhood

I tore myself away from the laundry smelling void of anything - void of fragrance because the artificial smells give my oldest son a painful case of eczema.  Raw and sore and needing a hot shower and ointments late at night.  So I put down the nothing smelling socks and undershirts and followed my nose outside where all three of them were riding scooters down the driveway this afternoon.  Orange trees bearing, lemon trees budding, and the jasmine just starting to open her aromatic petals.  

Engulfed in the fragrance I sat on the cinderblock wall and drank it all in. The whooping and the hollering and the squeals of, "Watch me, Mama!"  All of it fragrant.  So I inhaled deeply, until I was drunk on their joy.

Now don't you for a moment put me on some motherhood pedestal where this pulling away from chores to bathe in their laughter comes easily.  For all the times I do sit and enjoy my little people, there are a hundred and ten times I find another room needing my attention.  For all the times I carry out fragrant-less chores from room to room, there are people bursting with the flavor of life running in and out of the front door.

But the confession is more than that... their colorful lives that smell of citrus and sunshine often times get in the way of my grey existence when I have an agenda to get through.  And then, on top of that, I have these dreams.  Dreams of having some alone time and writing out a story and making something beautiful on a canvas to adorn the walls here in our home.

But then I hear then singing.  Loud and sure.  I hear them strumming and singing and splashing in the backyard and I know that I must give in to real life in their midst.  Because their muscles are growing larger and stronger and their eyes are shining brighter, and their heads are taller than they were yesterday.  And I don't want to miss this.

There are countless blog posts floating around the internet today about the top things our children need from us during this tender fleeting stage, but this past week I've been aware, (aware to the point of heartsick!) of the ways I keep rushing past my own need to savor my children before they are grown.  I am daily aware of my temporary needs to get rest and a workout and a laugh with friends, but there is a deeper need than that right here in my home.  Though I feel it or not, my deepest need, here in the midst of motherhood, is to taste and experience each day that smells of earth, each kiss that smacks of maple syrup, each laugh that shakes the eucalyptus leaves.  I need to live, truly live it with them.

Today as my youngest wrote "Be My Valentime" again and again on 19 envelopes, I thought, "This may be the last time a boy in my home says Valentime.  Valentime.  And I just couldn't bring myself to correct him.

So when he addressed his last note and turned to ask me for a game of dominos, I just had to say Yes.  There he was, all cozy in his jammmies and holding the bear he breathes soft nighttime breath into night after night, so I put down the dishes and said, Yes.  Because there is power in our yeses.  I already knew that was true.  I knew that they needed our Yeses to believe they are loved, I just didn't know how much I needed those sacred yeses too!

Yes.

Yes, I will savor this moment with you before it has passed us by altogether, like dominoes falling one day after another.  Yes, I will leave those dishes till another time.  Yes, I will come out and watch you skate and come to your room to see the fort you've made.  Yes, I will sit down and have a mug of cocoa too as you tell me all the names of your Hobbit Legos.  And, yes, I will sing you one more song tonight.

Yes.

I want fragrant memories of these years together, and those can only come from having lived fragrant days by their side.  Not driving them from one place to another, not talking at them while forgetting to listen to them, and most assuredly not by breathing the same air in our home whilst forgetting to stop and really breathe them in... deeply.

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Psalm 90:12

So I got down on the floor today and sat on cinder blocks and wasn't ready for dinner. And I touched their soft skin, already prickly with "man hair."  And I told them made up stories about what college is going to be like and how tall they will grow to be.  And I told them that their wives will all smell of peaches in the summertime and how they will take their families to the beach with all their kids.  Their kids will all be cousins together. And there was so much giggling. All of this falling one into the other, like dominoes being played out on dusty hardwood floors.

Yes.

So goodbye and goodnight and farewell, because I have people to love here in my home.  And you have your people there in yours.  So let's close for now.  Without 10 things they need from us, remembering only this one simple thing that we desperately need.

Yes.

Because we need Yeses too!

when brothers have different love languages

It was a quiet moment, void of conflict and competition. Two of the brothers set up army men together as I slid a pan of zucchini muffins into the oven.  It was then I heard the nine year old with a lisp ask, "Caleb, is wrestling your way of showing love?"   

"What?" The question came fast but was met by silence.  "Did you just ask me if I wrestle when I want to show you that I love you?"

"Yes? Do you?"

I held my breath and vowed not to disturb their conversation with my clanging of pots and pans or unwanted motherly insight.  In the stillness I caught my first born's gentle answer, "Yeah, I guess I do.  And I wrestle when I feel like we're having a happy moment together, it kind of bubbles out of me."

The younger brother then shrugged his understanding and said, "I like to be quiet with you.  I feel love when I'm doing this kind of stuff with you."

All eleven years of Caleb smiled just then, and he looked up to find me teary-eyed, because we'd just been talking about his tendency to push his brothers to play the way he loves to play, and we talked of possible ways he could meet them in their happy places.  His heart swelled, my heart tightened, and his little brother's heart overflowed with five simple words, "this is so much fun."

“Love is something you do for someone else, not something you do for yourself.”

- Gary Chapman, The Five Love Languages

So often the differences between us all cause friction instead of tender dialogue.  The boys who thrive on noise disturb my sensibilities and the man who is always going, forgets how much I like to simply sit with him.  There have been long days I haven't experienced being loved at all.  Likewise, the boy who wants me to play legos with him is waiting for love just the same.

It's only when we each stop our self-gratifying agenda to be loved, that we can truly give love.  True Love.  It's a sacrificial affair, this kind of loving each other.  Especially when we're all so different, with different needs, and different personalities, and different ways we show and experience love.  It's like we're all speaking different languages right here in the very same home.

This is family: A place where everyone speaks a different language.

There are many things about parenting that no one prepared me for. Teaching my children to maneuver lovingly through relationships is just one of them. Here in our house of three brothers, a mom and a dad, I'm learning that God gives us family to learn some of these skills. It's like He mixes us all up in our families of origin, sometimes in uncomfortable ways, in order to mold us into the people He wants us to be on the other side of these growing up years. The sensitive one gets to learn to cope with more aggressive personalities, and the strong-willed bull-dozer must learn to slow down and give in. Even mom and dad get to humble themselves to communicate our devotion and admiration to each of the uniquely diverse personalities we didn't expect to birth. It's all one big package of beautiful and difficult, intended to grow us into a loving and generous people.

When brothers have different love languages, and husband and wife have different ways they experience love, and mother and child find their communication stifled by different love needs too... we can either shut down and simply survive these years together, or we can dive into real love and learn to thrive together. A thriving love gives beyond one's own needs and comfort.  A thriving love is based on sacrifice.  The way Caleb stopped his rough-housing nature to meet his little brother in quiet and gentle play.  The way I made a special dinner tonight for my husband, when scrambled eggs would have filled me up just fine.  The way I close my lap-top to read a chapter of a book to the little one, and step over the piles of laundry to play on the floor with his brother.

"Greater love hath no man (woman, mother, father, husband, wife, grandpa, grandma, or child) than this, that he lay down his life for a friend (son, daughter, husband, wife, mother, brother, grandparent, or grandchild..." (John 15:13 - parenthesis added)

I know what it is like to misinterpret another's different personality as a personal attack.  Even mothers of young can feel assaulted by their toddlers because their wants and needs and energy are counter-intuitive to who she has always been.  They change up her system and the regular ways she once knew peace and security.  But she must commit, then recommit each moment if necessary, to loving them in new ways, regardless of the sacrifice, over and over and over again.

“I would encourage you to make your own investigation of the one whom, as He died, prayed for those who killed Him: 'Father forgive them for they know not what they do.' That is love's ultimate expression.”

- Gary Chapman, The Five Love Languages

The difference here is this... our loved ones aren't doing anything wrong, and in need of forgiveness, when they are simply asking us for love.  They are just expressing who they are, speaking their language, asking for love, as we are being who we are, speaking out own mother-tongue, requesting the same.  And all of us together (all three or four or five...) don't always fit together harmoniously.  And that's okay.  Like I said, we're learning real love here in our homes.

There is no safer place to learn it!

And so tonight I am contemplating the ways each of my beloveds experience my love.  Physically, emotionally, playfully, quietly, with touching and gift-giving, laughter and one on one time.  And I'm taking a lesson from my eldest, to not just talk about these things, but actually do it.

Blessings upon you and yours, as you grow in love together.

Resources

Gary Chapman's, The Five Love Languages and The Five Love Languages for Children are easy to read and promise to change the way we give and experience love within our home.

Here's a simple "Love Languages Quiz" to help you discover your children's primary language today!

The MOB Society put together this great series on showing love to our sons, one love language at a time.

And the children's story, A Perfect Pet for Peyton (also by Cary Chapman) helps children understand love languages too!

Application

Take a moment to seek The Lord's deep understanding of who each family member is and jot down a few notes about each one.  Then make a game plan.  "Matt needs me to spend quality time with him, so today I am going to run errands with him.  Caleb needs touch, so tonight I'll hold his hand when we watch a movie.  Asher needs words of affirmation, so I will begin our day communicating the appreciation I have for him when he gets himself dressed and is the first one to the breakfast table.  And Brody wants the same gentle play and quality time from me that he loved getting from his older brother.  I will give him that today."

Pray

"Thank you Lord for putting our family together just the way You did. Though it threatens my equilibrium some days, You purposefully crafted us together, and I will worship you by loving them well today - By the powerful flow of your Holy Spirit, Amen."

How do I stop yelling at my kids?

Moms all over the internet are crying out, "I want to stop yelling at my kids." They're up to their throats in shame, grabbing hold of the promise that change is possible. And it is.  But where do we go to talk about this stuff?  Where do we go to ask one another for prayer and the tools we need to change unhealthy, possibly generational, patterns.  Well, as strange as it may seem, there's a community at your fingertips, heaven-bent on encouraging you in your transformation. There is a private Facebook group sponsored by The MOB Society (MOB - Mothers of Boys), called "No More Angry MOB".  A couple of times a day author Amber Lia  and I post scripture promises, quotes about patience, prayers of confession and prayers of hope, and we tell stories and share testimonies of how whole families can be radically changed when parents learn to control their anger.  We talk together about how we got here, and how to get out of the ugly cycle of anger and hopelessness.  We talk about the sulfuric lies we tend to believe, (I can never change,) and rally together to believe what is true, (With God all things are possible!) It's a hopeful yet hurting motley group, and I've grown to love them deeply.

Maybe you would find yourself at home in their ranks.  Possibly you were raised by angry, yelling moms and dads.  Others of you may be naturally calm men and women who were raised in a laid back home, but suddenly, under the new and unexpected stresses of parenthood, you've found yourself short on patience and long on anger.  It can be an out of body experience, "How did I get here?"  But no matter how you got to this point, it can be shameful and surprising.  And you know, regardless of the path that lead you here, it must stop.  You know it, and I know it, but what can we do?

We can start by reaching out and joining a conversation like this, reaching out and confessing the ugly.  And bit by bit, voice by voice, baby steps at a time we start pointing out the promises and the hope and cheering one another on.  And then, out of nowhere, testimonies of how God transforms a sinner's heart start pouring down.  Here's how it goes:

Yesterday I asked a question on our No More Angry MOB Facebook page, and a conversation caught like wildfire.  I thought I'd share some of the highlights here, so that we can fan the flames and keep the dialogue going.

A woman replied to my simple question with one of her own:  "How do you get your kids to listen without screaming at them? Right now my children are four and five and they won't listen to me or pay attention to me unless I raise my voice and threaten them. I have to scream at them to get them to listen. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong or how can I change this. I don't want to be a bad mom." (Erin)

I nodded, over the internet, then wrote these words:

"First off, I think many of us have taught our children that it's all right to ignore us. Over the years we've called them to the table, asked them to get their shoes on, reminded them to clean their rooms... and when they didn't do what we asked, we raised our voices to get their attention. Other times we did nothing about it at all (telling ourselves that we were just "picking our battles.") The next day we thought we'd try giving more choices and speaking in a calm manner... only to get frustrated that it didn't work. So we yelled again.

But WHY don't our calm voices work?

I believe that when we are inconsistent we really only teach our children one thing... they don't have to honor us, UNLESS WE YELL!!!! They don't have to answer us, UNLESS WE YELL!!!! They don't need to turn off their lights and go to sleep, UNLESS WE YELL!!!!

But the thing is, what appears to give you control in the moment is really just you being out of control. And while it may get the result you were looking for short term, it doesn't reach their hearts of your little people... or refine long-term behavior.

But you asked "what should I do," not "how did I get here."

Here's what I suggest we do from here on out, every time. Let's commit to consistency. Like working out a muscle that is weak, you commit to speaking gently. Every. Time. Yes, it is difficult. Yes, they will ignore you. (Remember that they've gotten away with it before.)  But from here on out you will stop, though you are inconvenienced, if you are tired, even when you are upset.... And you will go to them with a soft voice. "John, I just asked you to pick up your train set. Our friends are coming for dinner. Please stop what you're doing and pick it up now."

When he doesn't, (because he won't,) come in with a paper bag and put it all away for him - on the top shelf of your closet. Then take him in your arms and tell him. "I am not going to yell anymore, I love you too much to yell. So I will simply take this toy away for one week."

Or maybe your style is to clean it up with him, making it a game, that's fine too. It's not how you do this, it's that you do it calm. "John, I'll get the track and you get the trains. We're a team. Our family is a team. All aboard!" Then praise him when he does it, even if it took more effort than you thought you had to give.

[Tweet "Flex your calm muscle, consistently, and they will eventually grow the muscle of obedience."]

Another woman chimed into this online conversation:

"I completely agree, but haven't for the life of me been able to think of any appropriate consequences for the following scenarios: 1) The child who ignores me when I ask him to get dressed or wash his hands after going to the bathroom. And 2) The same child who constantly aggravates his little brother by getting in his face and growling at him (which scares him) and  then he ignores me when I calmly ask him to leave his brother alone. Anybody had similar behaviors with some success in changing them? He's almost four. Thanks so much!" (Heather)

Again I nodded and again I typed:

"Sally Clarkson often reminds women that this is a marathon not a sprint, and that expecting immediate obedience is harmful to them and to us as the race stretches long and we need patience and endurance.

Heather, I have a child that does what yours does (and he is nine and should be through this challenging stage, right? Wrong! It's a marathon.) So I go to him, when he should already be dressed and should have remembered to wash his hands, and I simply say, "You are ignoring me, so I will help you put down those toys and walk back into the bathroom. Now please wash your hands and get dressed." And I go to him when he purposefully aggravates his little brother.  I get down on his eye level, and say with calm resolve, "Our home is safe and our home is loving. That wasn't safe or loving and so we can't have you around us right now. Go ahead and grab a book or a puzzle and go to your room. I will come get you in 30 minutes. When you come out I know you'll do a great job being gentle and kind with us."

The key is calm... He needs you calm. And you need you calm.  So get in close, because it's hard to yell when you're right up close. Go to him. You are going to do great! Some times we just need some tools."

 [Tweet "It's hard to yell when you're right up close."]

In this thread of conversation testimonies started flooding in.  I'd worked myself out of a counseling position because others had so much grace to add to the party:

"I have 3 boys...15, 13, 11. I was a yeller. I would cry in the shower because I was a yeller. I didn't want to yell. I wanted the circumstances to change so I didn't "have to" yell. What I found was that anxiety triggered my yelling. Pride triggered my yelling. Fear of my husband's yelling triggered my own. So...I faced my fears, anxieties, and pride. The flesh had to be crucified. I don't want my boys learning that yelling is the way to solve their problems or to use it to "motivate " anyone. It is crushing and painful. So now we do differently. My prayer...Lord, change ME. A beautiful thing is happening here. All glory to God. Push past the pain, moms. God is with you, He is for you." (Francea) "Walking this thru too. Love this quote: "Recognize yelling as a sign of weakness... Yelling tends to be a learned response to anger, stress and frustration... 'I have to yell just to be heard.' These parents are trying to direct my attention to the negative behavior of thier children but all I hear is that they are losing or have already lost control of their home. If you have to yell to be heard, something is wrong. Authority figures like policemen or judges don't have to yell to get their point across. Why? Because they hold the ultimate power. They are in control and don't have to prove a thing. Yelling sends a message to your child that his/her behavior has the power to unnerve you to the point of provoking an outburst.... Your lack of restraint reveals that your child holds the reins." fr "Toe to Toe with Your Teen by Dr Jim Myers. Great book, great encouragement for parenting defiant teens. In the chapter just before this, he reviews the amazing characteristics of God and gives specific ideas how to model these to our kids. I'm a work in progress - but it is possible! Push thru my friends! Victory awaits." (Jo-Ann)

...let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Hebrews 10:24-25

This is just a taste from the banqueting table that we feast around together.  The nuggets are transformative and hopeful, and we leave our times together built up and courageous.   You are welcome to join us as we spur one another on to abide, that we might bear the fruit of God's Spirit in each of our lives and there in our homes.

Come abide with us!