Having a heart as soft as a “Jesus cookie” or as hard as an ice-covered sidewalk

Posted on February 15, 2017 by sandra

Valentine’s Day has come and gone. The day we celebrate love and candy and flowers and candy and romantic dinners and candy and cards and chocolate. Has the day left you feeling glad or sad?

Like relationships, Valentine’s Day sometimes has its melancholy moments or full-on frustrations. Maybe like Charlie Brown, no one remembered you on Valentine’s Day. Or you accidentally gave a card that was too mushy to somebody with a bad case of cooties. Or your dog ate the beautifully frosted sugar cookie hearts you made for your special Valentine. Or you broke your shoulder delivering Valentine’s Day brownies to the boy you wanted to be your Valentine, only to find out he didn’t really like brownies.

A couple of those stories represent the ghost of Valentine’s Day present and Valentine’s Day past around the Engelland house.

Anna came home from college on Saturday to make some cookies for her beau. She found a delicious recipe for gluten-free “Jesus cookies.” My daughters call those really puffy, soft sugar cookies with lots of icing and sprinkles you find in the grocery store “Jesus cookies” because they seemed to get them during Sunday School A LOT. I’ve always been a chocolate girl, so I never bought those “Lofthouse” cookies until after my daughters developed a taste for them at church, hence the name. I hope Jesus doesn’t mind having cookies named for him. Anna absolutely adores them and was excited to try a GF version, since she can’t have gluten. Here’s the recipe she used.

Anna’s “Jesus cookies” were yummy gluten-free versions of the Lofthouse cookies that tempt you at the grocery store.

They turned out melt-in-your-mouth fluffy. Anna frosted them with canned buttercream she dyed pink and dusted them with red sprinkles. Her first batch she put in a container, but she left four large hearts and four small ones frosted and sitting on parchment paper on the kitchen table while we went to dinner. Bad idea.

When we returned, the little ones were there because they had been closer to the middle of the table. The big ones were gone. The only evidence of their existence was a few smears of pink frosting on the welcome mat by the back door. We have a cookie monster at our house named Elektra. But our pound puppy doesn’t limit her thieving to cookies. Ask me about the Thanksgiving pumpkin pie I left on the dining room table. The crust was there, but the inside had been licked clean.

Here’s our unrepentant cookie thief. I hosed down the mat in the driveway and scrubbed away the evidence while she watched.

Fortunately, Anna had some set aside for her boyfriend. Her friends, however, were out of luck.

I was reminded of a Valentine’s Day when I was in college at the University of Kansas. I made brownies in the basement kitchen of my scholarship hall during a winter storm. They were a special treat for a boy I wanted to impress (my now-husband Shawn) who lived in the hall across the street. I went out that night to deliver them and slipped on an icy sidewalk. I managed to keep the batch of brownies safe while I caught myself with one hand, but I chipped a bone in my shoulder and had my arm in a sling for a month. Adding insult to injury, Shawn gave a lukewarm reception to the brownies. After some prodding, I found out he’d rather have oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies.

All that is to say that the road to love is not paved with flowers and candy. Sometimes it’s hard, but we can’t let our hearts get hard. And we can’t let them go off in the wrong direction, like thinking a diamond bauble or a vacation home is better than perseverance and integrity.

The Bible has a lot to say about our hearts. For Northwood’s Ladies’ Bible Study, we’re using a book by Kelly Minter on Nehemiah. The subtitle of the lesson is “A heart that can break.”

Nehemiah’s heart was breaking for the destruction of Jerusalem, the holy city for the Jewish people. He left comfort in the Persian king’s court to lead the rebuilding of the city’s walls, despite ongoing opposition.

I was reminded of a passage in Ezekiel:

“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 11:19

God wants us to care deeply about the struggles of others. He wants us to reach out to widows and orphans, to prisoners and the poor, to the sick and the outcast. After tending to immediate needs, we can share the hope we have because of Jesus, the greatest gift of all.

We also studied a passage in Proverbs about guarding your heart because it determines the course of your life.

“Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” – Proverbs 4:23

That reminded me of another verse, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” – Matt. 6:21

For me, I need to avoid the traps of materialistic thinking. Stuff is so much less important than people. I need to value my relationships with God, my family, my friends and anyone I encounter.

Nehemiah said in Chapter 2, verse 12: “I did not tell anyone what God had put in my heart to do.” For a while, he prayed. Then he prayed some more and fasted. He talked the King and prayed again. He surveyed the walls and prayed before telling others in Jerusalem of his plans. Then they got busy building and the praying continued. Opposition came and so did more praying.

Get the picture? What has God put in your heart? Pray. Do some planning. Pray some more. Take steps forward, and don’t forget to pray. Expect the journey to be challenging. We can’t do God’s work without God’s help.

Left to my own devices, I sometimes get it backwards. I guard my heart against the pain around me and soften it to unhealthy junk or pursuits that have no impact on eternity. I’m asking the Lord to help me press in close to those in need and keep materialism and entertainment from becoming too important.

So that’s what I pray for you as we look back on Valentine’s Day: a heart that is soft to the leading of God and guarded to the influence of the world.

Evicting the rebel

Posted on November 18, 2016 by sandra

I live with a little rebel. She complains when she doesn’t get her way. She finds loopholes around the rules. She’s a poster child for asking forgiveness instead of asking permission.
One of my daughters spent LOTS of time in time out. Yes, she’s the one who said, “I’ll mess with Texas if I want to,” and “When I grow up, I’ll break all the rules.”
But today I’m not talking about my strong-willed child (who, by the way, grew into a caring, mostly responsible young adult, for all you parents still fighting the good fight).
The little rebel who irritates me most looks back at me in the bathroom mirror.

A quiet pond on Plum Prairie mirrors fall beauty.

I don’t choose the challenging assignment. I choose mindless pursuits instead of doing what only I can do. I try to avoid the homeless man sitting near my parking meter downtown. I put off reaching out to an old friend who is hurting.
I ignore the prompting and go my own way, reasoning myself out of action.
In “Jonah: Navigating a Life Interrupted,” Priscilla Shirer writes “…it is far easier to repent later than to initially submit. Obedience necessitates self-denial. Subjecting our will to the Lord’s is often more difficult than kneeling at an altar and asking for His mercy.”
When I go into rebellion mode, I’m often acting out of selfishness. But sometimes, I’m driven by fear. Fear of inadequacy. Fear of rejection.

Beauty comes in all sizes and many forms. Do you see it?

When I’m dragging my feet like a toddler, I need to remember one thing: choose love, not fear. The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s fear, so said Dr. Caroline Leaf when she spoke at Northwood Church last month.
Love leads to the bigger life, the beautiful, the eternal.
Fear drags us into a narrow trap, the regretful life.
Again from Shirer, “Knowing the endless kindness of our God should not only catapult us to our knees to experience it but to our feet, to walk out a lifestyle of obedience that prioritizes submission to His will over all else.”
Where is God calling you to evict the rebel in the mirror and step out in faith?
Don’t think you have to say “yes” to everything, but focus on those places unique to you: your gifts, your roles and your season.
“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”- 1 John 4:18

How to become addicted to God

Posted on October 14, 2016 by sandra

A friend asked me recently how I make my quiet time with God a priority. For many years now, I’ve done Bible study and prayer on at least a semi-regular basis. I AM NOT PERFECT. I miss days and, frankly, vacations are often the worst. I don’t want to appear to have it all together because I don’t (If you could see my house at just about any given moment, you’d know I don’t). I’m just one thirsty girl telling others where I’ve found living water. It’s not that I’m a great person, it’s that the more often I come into God’s presence, the more I realize my need for Him. I’m a broken person meeting other broken people every day — bless their hearts.

When I thought about why I’m pretty regular about daily Bible study and prayer, the answer that came to mind was I’m addicted to my time with God. That seemed really inappropriate to say until I heard neuroscientist Dr. Caroline Leaf mention that a God addiction is a good thing!

We were made to crave. If we don’t fill that hole in our souls with God, we will try to fill it with work, entertainment, food, shopping, hobbies, other people… The list is long. Nothing will fill the God-shaped hole except God. Having fun, working hard, eating, focusing on our kids or spouses or friends all have their place and they fall into proper perspective when God comes first.

“Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” – Matthew 6:33 (The Message)

Sunrise over the Sand Hills near Hutchinson, Kansas.

Here are some ideas about how to get more regular about spending time with God:

Get up early and have your quiet time first. Sorry, but this is one good way to make sure it happens. To facilitate early rising…
Go to bed at a reasonable time the night before. Yes, I’m explaining this to you like you’re 12, but this can be hard for many of us, especially if you have small children (see the point below about shifting to a different time).
Be accountable. Join a Bible study or small group that keeps you in God’s Word. When my kids were preschoolers, I participated in Bible Study Fellowship which has wonderful programs for children. For adults, BSF has in-depth lessons often requiring more than 30 minutes a day to complete. If you didn’t do your lesson, you couldn’t talk during the small group discussion over the questions. In recent years, I’ve been a part of Northwood’s Ladies’ Bible Study. The lessons are less intense but still keep me studying, and I have the added bonus of getting to know many wonderful women of all ages.
Start small. Even five minutes a day is better than no minutes. Some of my friends use the First 5 App from Proverbs 31 Ministries. I read through the wonderful devotional book “Jesus Calling” during a busy season in my life when I wasn’t in a study or sometimes if my time is limited I will read a devotional from biblegateway.com.
You don’t have to have your God time first thing. Maybe you have little ones who wake you with their cries or requests for Cheerios. When I was in that season, I allowed myself to put in a “Barney” video several times a week (or set aside part of nap time) and take 15 minutes for me and God. Maybe you work very early hours and you can’t imagine getting up earlier. THAT’S OKAY. Have your time at the end of the day or during lunch or whatever works with your schedule. Don’t allow perfectionism to impede progress.
Delay your time on social media/computer/TV until after your quiet time. I try to resist checking my phone first thing in the morning. I DO make a cup of coffee with my favorite flavored creamer to make my QT even better (and wake me up).
If you miss a few days (weeks, months…), know that God loves you and welcomes you back. God doesn’t love you any more when you are spending regular times with Him than when you are ignoring Him. You just become more aware of His love and allow Him to minister to you in your moment-by-moment needs. It’s called renewing the mind, people.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” – Romans 12:2 (NIV)

On procrastination, purpose and the miraculous healing of a printer

Posted on September 18, 2016 by sandra

A misty morning on our North Plum prairie in Central Kansas.

Friday was Sandra’s “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” and I wanted to run away to Australia.

I won’t give you all the gory details because even if I changed the names to protect the innocent, most of the trouble was caused by that person I see every day in the mirror.
A large percentage of the remaining problems resulted from brokenness. No, I don’t mean that feeling when you realize you can’t make it on your own and would someone up there send some help already (although there may be a bushel of truth in that).

I mean stuff was broken. Broken oven, leaking shower head, a tear in a favorite shirt. And technology rebelled and refused to do my bidding. I was coming up against a deadline to get some important papers signed. How dare my laptop and printer conspire to revolt after I’d put off the task for so long!

Ah! There’s the rub! I procrastinate in many areas of my life, but I can be responsible in others. I can exercise self-control when it comes to paying bills, running several times a week or completing work assignments. On the flip side, I often delay cleaning chores, writing blog posts like this one or tackling difficult projects with indeterminate deadlines.

Why do some jobs get done with minimal will power and others seem to take monumental effort?

My easy-to-complete tasks all have a quick consequence if they don’t get done. I HATE paying late fees, my hyper-energetic dog pesters me to play (or shreds my socks) if she doesn’t get exercise and if I’m not meeting my work commitments, I’m forced into uncomfortable conversations with my boss (who is very understanding when real problems pop up).

The “to-dos” that are “not-dones” are more under my control. If I don’t clean the shower as often as I should, it really just impacts me and my hubby. I drag my feet in posting to my blog because I worry I don’t have anything interesting to say. I avoid big projects with unclear paths.

If I dig a little deeper, I know I procrastinate sometimes out of fear of failure.

Cleaning and organizing do not come easily to me. And I’m often in my daydream world where it’s easy to ignore the clutter and the dirt until it begins to spill out of the closets and attract wildlife. After weeks of neglect, I can spend 48 minutes scrubbing my shower and it still doesn’t look perfect. So why bother? Those are the times I need to remind myself that housework done imperfectly is better than housework not done at all. Spending 24 minutes or 12 minutes or 6 minutes is better than 0 minutes. Clean and de-clutter anyway.

As for the blog, almost every time I write a post, I feel a twinge of anxiety when I hit the button marked “Publish.” Creating makes us vulnerable. What if no one reads this? Or they think it’s a waste of time? What if I run out of things to say? Then I need to remind myself that connecting with others through writing is part of my primary purpose. Why did God give me this dream for my writing? So others will be encouraged. There will be times when my posts are dull. I must wrestle worry and pin it to the mat in the process. Write anyway.

Doubts can paralyze me or prompt me to pray and persevere.

When facing any complex project, I can take a small step forward instead of putting it off. Most of us veteran procrastinators know that just getting started is the hardest part. I say to myself, “progress, not perfection.”

That brings me back to my foul mood the other night, when technology kept me from completing an important part of a big project. I checked the printer, Googled the error message, tried moving the documents to a memory stick and putting that into the printer port. Nothing. I went to bed grumbling about all the broken stuff and all the undone tasks and tried to fall asleep haunted by regrets and recriminations.

When I got up the next morning, I knew I needed to sit down with my Bible, prayer journal and coffee to build positive momentum for my day. Seated in the big leather chair with my KTEH San Jose public television mug, I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye a stack of paper in the printer tray. After I’d gone stomping up the stairs, the problem had inexplicably resolved itself. Yes, there were five more copies of one paper than I needed, but I rejoiced. I could get the signature I needed and move forward.

God was reminding me of his goodness in the midst of all the brokenness (yes, the spiritual kind). Life is hard more often than it is easy. I need to look to the Lord to help me overcome challenges, especially the ones I create for myself.

One of the passages I read Saturday morning was this one:

“By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence.” – 2 Peter 1:3

Thank you, Lord, for reminding me that the presence of hardship does not mean the absence or your presence.

An end is also a beginning

Posted on September 5, 2016 by sandra

Two weeks ago today Shawn and I dropped the last kid off at college, and I’m still in shock.

Where did those 18 years go, or the nearly two and a half decades of having kids under foot? The days crawled but the years raced.

We followed Anna’s battered blue Dakota up Highway 377 to the University of North Texas and sat in a traffic jam in the middle of orange construction barrels on Eagle Drive while hundreds of other families waited their turn to pull into the dorm parking lot. We got off the main drag a few blocks early and found spaces in a parking lot just one street over from her hall. Shawn, Anna, big sister Rachel (there at her sister’s insistent request), and I grabbed boxes and headed to her dorm.

A bit unsure and nervous, Anna took charge anyway and went to check in and get her key while the rest of us waited by the boxes on the steps out front. She came back breathless and triumphant, lanyard looped around her neck. Her room was on the fifth floor (aren’t they always?). The line for the elevators went out the door and down the block, so she led the charge to the nearest narrow stairwell.

Up, up, up we went, squeezing against the hand rail and orienting the box just right every time we passed students and parents on their way down the five flights. After several trips and copious amounts of sweating, we had most of what she brought in her room. Then there was moving furniture and the awkward task of making a lofted bed in tight quarters: layering on mattress protector, memory foam, pad, fitted sheet, flat sheet and her Grand Bette-made UNT green quilt. Anna may or may not have bumped her head on the acoustic tile ceiling. Rachel may or may not have made a trip hefting a heavy box from the parking lot up to the fifth floor before realizing she was in the “B” wing and would have to go back down to the ground floor and across the courtyard to the “A” wing and up another five flights.

Shawn and I pose with Anna, our UNT girl. Her room is only half way set up, but she was ready for us to go.

We got a few of the boxes unpacked, then Anna declared lunch break. We went to one of her favorite restaurants, Chipotle, even though Kansas cattleman Shawn doesn’t like to go there because they get all their beef from Australia. On this momentous occasion, he went with zero complaints or snide comments.

Then we went across the street on a Target run for a power strip, fan, gluten-free snacks and other assorted items, angling our cart around the aisles crowded with back-to-school shoppers. Once we got back to her dorm room with a last load of supplies, Queen Anna said, “You can go now.” She wanted to finish setting up with her friend and roommate Ashley and without parental units and sister taking up valuable floor space.

And that was it. After so many years of dreading the moment, I felt numb. The 45-minute drive back to Keller was quiet but not somber. When we got home, we still had Rachel visiting for another ten days. Rebekah is dividing her time between taking a few classes at the University of Texas at Arlington and a part-time job at The Keller Pointe, so she is living at home. The empty nest is not empty yet. And that’s okay.

I teared up late that night when I looked out the front door for Anna’s pickup and remembered why I didn’t see it at the curb. But she’s been home twice in the last two weeks, and I saw her in Denton twice. It makes a difference having her so close. Taking Rachel to A&M and dropping Rebekah off at KU her freshman year were much harder.

Part of the reason I’ve not been more mopey is because two days after we dropped Anna off, my step dad (a UNT alumni and big fan of the Mean Green) lost his long battle with cancer. Known for his wry sense of humor, his affection for all things Denton, and his willingness to go out of his way to help someone in need, Bud will be missed by many friends and family members. His passing had me thinking of the bigger picture and spending more time with my mom.

Bud sitting behind the wheel of his beloved 1957 Chevy convertible.

Bud sitting behind the wheel of his beloved 1951 Chevy convertible.

The end of active-duty child-rearing can be the beginning of new adventures with a wider scope than just the folks under my roof. More time to explore near and far. More opportunities to grow in giving to others. More knowledge that each moment is precious. If you’re a mom or dad in this perilous place of transition, allow a little mourning for what is gone, then seek the “mores.”

Life is full of challenges and changes. Some we anticipate for years and others catch us by surprise as one season ends and a new one begins. But we can know this. God has everything under control and will use all of it for our good, if we’ll let Him.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” – Ephesians 2:10

If we’re still drawing breath, God’s got good things planned for us to do.

What will get your Olympic effort?

Posted on August 14, 2016 by sandra

My first memory of the Olympics was watching Soviet gymnast Olga Korbut, “the darling of Munich,” compete in 1972. I was 7 years old and captivated by her charm and athleticism. A neighbor down the street had a three-foot tall fence that became my balance beam. I’d scamper across it and pose, dreaming of adoring crowds and medals.

Olga Korbut, a star of the 1972 Munich games, cast an Olympic spell over 7-year-old me that continues to this day.

Having absolutely NO gymnastics skills, poor flexibility, sub-par coordination and a tall, lanky frame with minuscule upper body strength, my chances of becoming an Olympic gymnast were zero. But I never stopped marveling at what those small but mighty athletes could do.

Ever since 1972, I’ve been a fan of the Olympics. From Mary Lou Retton and Florence Griffith-Joyner to Simone Biles and Michael Phelps, I’ve watched in wonder at it all.

Michael Phelps has 28 medals, 23 of them gold! Inconceivable! He says Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, an outspoken Christian, and the book “Purpose Driven Life” saved his life after he was arrested for his second DUI.

This past week I’ve short-changed my sleep and dragged my way through some days with an Olympic hangover.

What does it take to be a successful Olympic athlete? I’d say innate talent, dedication and mental toughness.

No matter how hard I trained, I don’t think I would ever be a gymnast. God didn’t bless me with that kind of frame. The only sport I ever tried where I had some success was running. I briefly held the school record in the 880 (yards, people, because I’m old) at John Marshall Junior High, but it was broken a few years later.

I had enough dedication to run track and cross country in high school, but I didn’t have the drive to become great at it. I didn’t have that single-minded determination and will. That could have been a combination of lacking talent and mental toughness and it was absolutely an absence of sacrificial devotion.

That said, I still lace up my running shoes three days a week and pound pavement. I’m excruciatingly slow compared to the rail-thin, bouncy teen that used to win an occasional track medal in the Wichita City League. When I get a medal in a race now it’s usually because there weren’t that many 50 and older women running. You can outlast the competition in a whole different way!

I find that running brings me a kind of quiet joy. I dislike the treadmill because I’d rather be outside with my crazy running buddy. If I’m in a challenging season, a run will relax the tension in my shoulders or put a bit of the old bounce in my step. A walk can work wonders, too. Now that I’m an older runner, I don’t run daily. Even a short walk will boost my mood. For me, it’s the combination of movement and nature. I also sometimes do a 10-minute exercise video for strength training because I know I’m losing muscle mass and prone to osteoporosis because of my slender frame.

Yep, here she is again. My ever-eager running buddy. She's always good to go!

Yep, here she is again. Elektra, my ever-eager running buddy. She’s always good to go!

Whether you run or walk or cycle or golf, let those Olympic efforts remind you of the responsibility we all have to take care of our bodies. Most of us are not called to be Olympians, but all of us are called to certain roles, some of them only we can do. Managing our health helps us maintain the devotion and mental toughness to continue to do what God created us to do, from caring for kids or parents or spouses to learning at school, building businesses or serving others.

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore, glorify God in your body.” – 1 Cor. 6:19-20

“Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.” – 1 Cor. 9:26-27

Goals, terry cloth robes and grace. Lots of grace.

Posted on June 26, 2016 by sandra

Here we are almost at the end of June. That means we are half way through 2016. Yes. Really. I know it takes us all a few months just getting used to writing 2016 before it sinks in. I decided it would be a good chance for me to review all those goals I set in early January.

It ends up that I’ve fallen short on many of them. No, my bedroom is not totally decluttered and remodeled. I haven’t memorized a bunch of Bible Verses. I didn’t blog weekly.

But you know what? That’s okay. When I take a step back and look around me, I see some progress. It may be a mole hill instead of mountain, but I’ve gained ground.

One goal we met was taking a family spring break tour of the Great Southwest. It was all truly great except for a few hours in western New Mexico on the way home when we almost strangled each other.

One goal we met was taking a family spring break tour of the Great Southwest. It was all truly great except for a few hours in a traffic jam on I-40 in New Mexico when we almost strangled each other.

Anyone who knows me well knows I struggle with outer organization. I’m one of those daydreaming creative folks who can ignore the basket of unsorted socks by my bed for weeks (or months) and forget where I put the notice to renew the registration for my daughter’s car until it’s way overdue, hypothetically speaking (not).

I may not have decluttered my whole bedroom, but I did go through almost all my clothing and get rid of what didn’t “spark joy.” One of the books I’ve read so far this year is “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo. Actually, I listened to the audio book, which I found on YouTube, while I went through my closet and drawers.

Kondo, a professional organizer from Japan, has something of a cult following with her “Konmari method,” which is to get rid of anything that doesn’t spark joy. She has some useful tips, but she’s kind of weird. She likes to talk to her stuff. If she is getting rid of it, she holds it and thanks it for what it’s done for her.

I feel a little silly thanking my old cherry red terry cloth robe for it’s many years of faithful service, but I never looked at it the same after hearing Jim Gaffigan’s take on them.

I haven’t blogged every week. Sigh. I’m disappointed in my lack of resolve. But I haven’t completely given up. I count up my posts. This is No. 14 for 2016. For the entire year of 2015 I had 7. If I keep on this pace, I will quadruple my output from last year.

I need to get out of the old mentality of abandoning goals because I only hit a single instead of a home run. It’s about progress, not perfection.

Another goal I set was to memorize 24 Bible verses for the year. I’ve only done two, and that’s being generous because I’m still sneaking peaks at the 3×5 card taped to my bathroom mirror. But God is still speaking powerfully through His Word. Just this last week several verses hit me up side the head.

This one seems especially appropriate:

^“But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ. So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.”– 1 Cor. 15: 57-58

Let’s give some grace to ourselves and keep moving onward in faith.

Turning in my “active duty mom card”

Posted on June 5, 2016 by sandra

Last weekend this mom survived two big milestones.

Anna, my youngest, graduated from high school on Saturday. Two days later, she turned 18.

In honor of her old favorite "Junie Bl Jones" books, Anna C. Engelland is a graduation girl!

In honor of her old favorite “Junie B. Jones” books, Anna C. Engelland is a graduation girl!

In just the space of 48 hours, I had no more K-12 kiddos and no more minor children. It’s enough to make a mama swoon.

I’d been simultaneously anticipating and dreading those moments for many months (years?). I wanted to celebrate my daughter, whose impish, strong-willed, fierce-loving start hinted at the creative, determined, fierce-loving young woman she would become.

But a part of me feels like I’m turning in my “active duty mom card” because technically, all three of my kids are adults. I’m mourning the passage of the era of raising kids. I’ve been at it for almost a quarter of a century, but sometimes it seems to have passed in a blur.

The first kid graduation I celebrated was my oldest daughter completing kindergarten. That was almost exactly 18 years ago because my youngest was born just a day and a half later. I tell a lot of people that I never drank coffee until the youngest arrived. I had a first grader, a preschooler and a colic-prone baby. That’s a certain recipe for sleep deprivation, making caffeine an essential part of my daily diet.

Rachel, 6, cuddling with her one day old baby sister.

Rebekah at 3 1/2 gets a kick out of holding her newborn sister for the first time. Anna, not so much.

Boarding the Trinity Railway Express to Dallas in 2001: Anna, 3, in her "lay-o" Veggie Tales dress lovingly made by GrandBette, Rachel, 9, carrying her own camera, and Rebekah, 6, sporting the Powerpuff Girls T.

Boarding the Trinity Railway Express to Dallas in 2001: Anna, 3, in her favorite outfit, a “lay-o” Veggie Tales dress lovingly made by GrandBette; Rachel, 9, carrying the family video camera while holding her sisters’ hands (typical oldest child stuff); and Rebekah, 6, sporting the Powerpuff Girls T.

Now the sleep deprivation comes from hot flashes or because I’m worrying about one or more of the young adult children. What you don’t realize as a young parent looking ahead is that your job isn’t really over when they turn 18 or graduate from high school.

As your kids grow up, you give them more and more responsibility. You coach and hope and pray that they have faith in God and in themselves.*

They make mistakes. A lot of them. You make mistakes. A lot of them. But the older they get, the more you realize that you as a parent have very little control. You transition from a very “hands on” role to more of an advisory capacity. You have been and always will be one of your child’s primary role models. They will do what you do or vow to be nothing like you.

I hate to break the news to all you young parents out there, but parenting older teens and young adults can be harrowing at best, heartbreaking at worst. Sometimes when you want to rush in and rescue, you stand back and wait. You keep your mouth shut when you long to give the 142nd lecture on a topic. You pray more for your kids than when they were little because the challenges are huge and the solutions are out of your hands.

But in all that, you get to see your child becoming. Their frontal lobes are not fully developed, so you can’t expect total “adulting” dominance, but you see glimpses of how the soft-hearted child becomes the compassionate young adult, or the obstinate, strong-willed kid becomes the determined, focused 18-year-old.

When they struggle, you seek God all the more and focus on the long haul. You look for glimmers of hope and choose to count blessings. And you choose to love.

*Jesus teaches in Matthew 22 that faith is powered by love:

³⁶“Teacher, which is the most important commandment in the law of Moses?”

³⁷Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’^[a] ³⁸This is the first and greatest commandment. ³⁹A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^[b] ⁴⁰The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”

Rachel’s graduation in 2010. Great smiles from all my girls.

Rebekah’s graduation in 2013. Two down, one to go!

A happy day celebrating our last Keller High School graduation.

Lessons from the back of the pack

Posted on May 15, 2016 by sandra

Last weekend, my 21-year-old daughter Rebekah and I ran our first half marathon. We’d done races of 9 miles and 10 miles, but we’d never done 13.1 miles. We decided to use Shawn’s frequent flyer miles (Thanks, Honey!) and go to a run outside of Boston and do some sightseeing before and after the big run

The day before the race, we had a great time walking the Freedom Trail in Boston and carb loading at a cafe in Little Italy. Our waitress’s accent — she called me “doll”–added to the fun. After our run, we drove up to Maine and found a little town on the coast for chowder, lobster rolls and shopping. Rebekah said she preferred “Murder She Wrote” New England over “Cheers” Boston, but both venues were fun.

As for the run, it was HARD. The morning was cold and drizzly, fog shrouding the namesake pair of lighthouses on the course. There were more hills between Gloucester and Rockport than we find between Keller and North Richland Hills (despite the name).

Cold start in the upper 30s. Welcome to May in New England. Obviously, I am selfie challenged.

Did I mention that it was long? Map My Run, which lined up with all their mile markers, told me the race was actually 13.3 miles. When you’re ready to be done, two-tenths of a mile matters. We kept going and only walked a little bit and finished with a better time than we expected, although well back into the pack of runners, many of whom sported “Boston Athletic Association” Boston Marathon gear. For you non-runners, you only get to run the Boston Marathon by getting a very fast qualifying time IN ANOTHER MARATHON or by having run it more than 15 times.

Towards the end of the race when every muscle hurt

The point I want to make is that right now I’m having to run a spiritual endurance race in certain areas. I’ve prayed and sought God’s guidance, but the struggle remains. Unlike a real race, I’m not sure where to find the finish line. But I can trust God to give me the power to endure and keep going.

One of the best things about a road race is the camaraderie. Fellow runners encourage one another and people cheer for you along the course and at the water stations to boost your spirits. At the Mile 9 water station last weekend, a woman called Rebekah and me her “two favorite runners of the day.” It didn’t matter that we were near the back of the pack and she may have said it a couple dozen times, we felt better.

In the body of Christ, we can cheer for the well-known pastors and authors, the speakers who fill stadiums and lead hundreds to faith, but we should also encourage those who are struggling. Those who are dealing with marital strife, sick parents, colicky babies, bad grades, prodigal sons and daughters. We should look for ways to bless others with a cup of water and a few kind words in the middle of whatever marathon they are running.

Because everyone has challenges. Call it pruning, call it the results of bad choices (sometimes not even our own), call it living in a fallen world. That’s the bad news. But here’s the good news. In Christ, we have victory. We may not have it in our hands yet, but we can hold it in our hearts. We know that He gives us power, love and self-control when we seek Him, not fear and anxiety (2 Timothy 1:7).

So run your race, my friends, and don’t forget to encourage others, especially those at the back of the pack.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.” – Hebrews 12:1

Not sure if I’ve ever been more glad to see the Finish Line.

How you can grow into your purpose

Posted on April 17, 2016 by sandra

Forsythia in bloom at The Rock Shop in Orderville, Utah, one of many rock shops in the town of 572 folks. We didn’t stop and smell the roses on our recent spring break. We stopped for the rocks.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.
– Proverbs 13:12 (NLT)

News flash: I get frustrated with myself and my lack of progress on multiple fronts. Over and over and over and over… You get the picture.

– I want to keep to my resolution to blog weekly, but I’m not meeting that goal.
– I want to do a better job getting rid of clutter and cleaning my home, but the piles of doodads and dust bunnies continue to grow.
– I want to tackle the 87 home improvement projects that should be done, but there don’t seem to be enough hours or energy to do them.

I could add many more, but it makes me tired just thinking about all those unaccomplished tasks.

I have these two voices that creep into my brain. I’ll call them Martha and Stanley.

Martha had a plethora of pin-worthy ideas long before Pinterest. I’m not Martha, and “it’s a good thing.”

The Martha voice is like Martha Stewart. She wants elaborate dinner parties, a garden bursting with flowers to array in vases and tomatoes to can in jars and a home with lovely decor and floors clean enough to not worry about the five second rule (I remember reading where Martha said the only way to clean floors is on your hands and knees. She knew her daughter had truly taken her words to heart when she found the young woman on her hands and knees cleaning the garage floor. FOR REAL. THE GARAGE FLOOR). That’s the voice of the domestic diva, the homemaking ninja, the paragon of Pinterest, roles to which I aspire in my more delusional moments.

Here’s Stanley, pencil and puzzle book in hand, unashamedly avoiding the work of the day.

Then there’s Stanley, as in Stanley Hudson from the TV show “The Office.” Stanley wanted to sit in the corner and do his crossword puzzles and have everyone leave him alone. He wanted to get by doing as little work as humanly possible. Sometimes that’s me. I look around and see the dishes that are piled in the sink AGAIN, the blog post on my “to do” list (real or only in my head) that didn’t get written AGAIN, the cluttered room that there’s no point in decorating when it’s such a mess AGAIN and I want to find a crossword or an episode of “The Office” and bury myself in it.

Y’all, both of these voices need to be evicted from our heads. These are really two sides of the same coin: perfectionism in what I want and disappointment when I can’t meet those goals. When we get caught up in perfectionism, we lose the joy of appreciating the world in all of its imperfect glory. We are MESSED UP and God loves us anyway. That’s grace. But this doesn’t mean that we give up on the work God’s given us to do. We keep moving forward in spite of our struggles. That’s faith. Although taking a break from work and chores is healthy, allowing discouragement to keep us from making progress is not.

I’m learning that I should not be focused on perfection or how miserably I fail. My focus should be on loving God and showing his love to others. Even though I am a daydreamer creative type lacking in organizational skills and focus, I can take steps in the right direction.

Ten minutes spent dusting in an imperfect manner is better than no dusting at all. Doing one small part of a big project (like spraying Roundup on the weeds and grass that have overtaken my garden) beats the frustration that I don’t have the time to tackle the whole thing or guilt over allowing it to languish and deteriorate. Writing and posting on my blog even when I lack the fire of inspiration is better than giving in to discouragement.

Doing imperfect things is better for my psyche than waiting for the perfect time or situation.

We don’t always get to choose how well a project turns out and we certainly don’t get to choose how others receive our efforts, but we can choose to move forward. My faith on its own shrivels up. It grows when I choose to do something that God has called me to do. We’re always going to have interruptions, usually people, who want us to do something else. We need to ask the Lord for wisdom in knowing if we ought to pause and oblige or stay the course. Sometimes God calls us to rest, too, and that’s an important part of faith.

This is a cedar waxwing in the ornamental pear tree outside my office window. I love that little berry-eating bandit!

²⁵“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? ²⁷Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” – Matthew 6: 25-27 (NLT)

Really what we’re doing here is learning to listen and follow, rest and rejoice. Rinse and repeat. Here’s how we keep hope alive: not by being perfect nor giving in to discouragement but by trusting and obeying.

Will you join me in tackling the messy, imperfect life around us knowing that God is in control? Don’t listen to Martha or Stanley and enjoy the unique place God has positioned you. Achieving your God-given purpose is sharing his love using your gifts, your talents and your place right now.

Sandra Engelland

Cultivating peace

Category Archives: Faith