image from Kendra, My First Kitchen

All of us loved this cheesecake so much, that we started to tell Kendra how much she could make by selling them. She mentioned something about storing them all and so we told her she could invest in a big freezer and get cool packaging and come up with a cool name like Kendra’s Cheesecakes. We didn’t notice how quiet she was because between bites, we were busy nodding and agreeing about what a good idea this was and we nearly had her on Oprah’s Favorite Things episode.

There was only one problem: Kendra didn’t want to sell cheesecake. And when she said it out loud, it sort of stopped the conversation and we got back to simply enjoying the cheesecake.

Knowing what you want to do is important. But knowing what you don’t want to do can be even more so. My writing mentor, Bonita Lillie, wrote in her email for writers this week about how only you carry the vision for your writing (or your business, your parenting, your career, your ministry). No one else does. Wisdom from others can be a wonderful thing, but just know when you seek counsel from him and them and her and Oprah, it can also breed chaos and confusion. It was only when the other voices quieted that she was able to discern where her writing heart beat.

“And in the stillness, when all other voices were silent, I heard His voice speaking to me. And He was leading and guiding and clarifying and redefining. The vision became clear. And with that clarity, I was empowered to make decisions. Instead of yielding to or even entertaining every request put before me, I was able to say, “I do this. I only do this. I don’t do that.”  Freedom!?? Dearest writer, you are the sole carrier of the writing vision God has given you. No one else has it. You are the visionary. Trust the vision.”  -Bonita

So just because you make a great cheesecake doesn’t mean you are supposed to sell them, even if everyone tries to tell you that you should. Even if you could make a lot of money for them. Even if it makes a lot of sense. Even if people say you’re crazy for not. Only you carry the vision. The better you communicate that, the more content and effective you will be.

To subscribe to Bonita’s weekly email for writers: bonita(at)bonitalillie(dot)com

Thinking about blog purpose? Check here and here.

When we first walked through this house, my least favorite thing about it was the darkness. Dark ugly paneling, cornice boards on the windows, dark paint colors, vertical blinds, and lots of trees. Just dark. One of the first things we did was rip down all those cornice boards and open the windows wide.

Today, one of my favorite things about this house is the light. The back of the house gets morning light, perfect for our sunroom. So in the evenings, we get a warm, golden light on the front of our house.

Since we knocked that wall down in our living room, the evening light spills all the way across and it is my favorite place in the world to be. I knew this was the house we were to buy, but at first I wasn’t happy about it. Too dark. Too depressing. Too dated. But we’ve made it home, so much so that I hope we never have to leave it.

Is there a gift that didn’t start out that way? Are there small, subtle gifts in your hands even now? The guidelines for Tuesdays Unwrapped are here. In summary, link up with the permalink to your unwrapped post, or your link will be deleted. I would also ask, as a courtesy, that you would please link back here to Chatting at the Sky by either using the button or a text link somewhere in your post. Thank you.

In other news, we got a dog. Oh wait, I already told you that. It’s been three weeks and the thing I never thought would happen has happened. It feels normal. Still, our cable, phone, and internet were out for two days because of the fence we had put up because of the dog. And the dog has now chewed on nearly every piece of furniture I own. And I now say No, Finn and Who let the dog out? more often than I inhale. And I’ve cleaned up dog barf while singing Whoooo Let the Dogs Out? because that song is pretty much always in my head now. How can this possibly feel normal? I have no answers. But it just kind of does. I call it a miracle.

I hope you are having a fantastic Labor Day Weekend. See you on Tuesday for Tuesdays Unwrapped!

I spent a lot of my time trying to make the flowers bloom out of sheer will. I wanted the beauty that came from a healthy, beautiful, blooming plant, but the only fruit I seemed to produce on my own was either dried out, too ripe, or simply not enough. Growing up in the church, I got the message that salvation is by faith alone, but life after that is faith plus my hard work and good disposition. I stayed strong when I felt weak and I faked happy when I wanted to cry because my ideal image had everything to do with put together and nothing to do with falling apart. I didn’t understand the mystery of Christ in you, the hope of glory.

I thought he wanted me to serve for him, to witness for him, to live for him. But that isn’t what he wanted.

I have become aware of the futility of my own efforts to please the God I thought was distant, passive, and expectantly waiting for me to get it right. I worked hard, I did the right things, I never got drunk, I sang in the youth choir, I went to Bible College, I married a youth pastor.

But it’s hard to bloom when you’re either doing so much for God and you don’t know why, or you can’t find the energy to do anything for him because it never seems like enough.

I was determined to get life right while also painfully aware of all the ways I was wrong. And so to cover for myself, I hid. I stayed hidden behind my sweet personality, my strength and responsibility, my fine-how-are-you’s and my servant heart, hoping that my paper face would cover for my inadequacies.

I was trying so hard to live for God that I missed the point. He never asked me to live for him. Through his Son Jesus Christ, he lovingly invites me to live from him. One letter makes all the difference.

Before we can be the hands and feet of Jesus in the world, before we can go out and love without condition, we have to first understand who Jesus is in us. Otherwise, we are living out a self-made gospel, a gospel that boasts all flowers and leaves but no roots, which is really no gospel at all.

The life of Christ in us makes the difference between the church and Hollywood or The Red Cross. And not just historical Jesus or on-the-cross Jesus or when-I-get-to-Heaven Jesus, but Jesus in me. Jesus living his real Jesus life through believers who trust that he died a real death and rose up to real life to make a true difference.

And so I’ve written a book about the roots, about kind of hiding we do when we fear we aren’t good enough, and the kind of finding God does because he knows he is. It’s a book about the hidden inside parts, about the invisible roots, about the impossible expectations I put on myself and about the God who lifts me up.

And this book has no title.

I am so nervous asking for your help. But help? Because I know you can. You are writers and creative thinkers. No idea is a bad idea at this point. I am stuck in my own head and I want to have some good ideas to offer to the marketing team. So if you have any good ideas, or even bad ideas, or medium ideas, this would be the time to put them in the comments. Or even if you just have a word or two words or an image or a fraction of an idea that you think could communicate the message of this book, that would be helpful too. Thank you and thank you. And thank you.

Emily’s internet has disintegrated so the Sister is here while on the phone with her, trying to find a photo of something other than furniture to post.   She’s at home with a sick boy, no internet, no cable no home phone, enjoying a Tuesday 1800′s style.

But we all know there are no guarantees in matters of the heart. And maybe I have more questions than answers. My girls are only six, but I’ve been a mama long enough to know that six turns into sixteen all too quickly. After nearly 10 years in youth ministry, it seems like the issues are always the same between mamas and daughters, just dressed up in different clothes. It’s true that the Bible says she is to honor you as her mother. But are there ways to encourage that as her natural response rather than an external command?

It may be true that she is being too sensitive and too dramatic. But if you tell her that, it won’t help and it could hurt. I was too sensitive and too dramatic just last week. Or was it this morning? Their stuff may be minuscule in the scope of life, but it is their stuff. To respect her life-stage is to love her.

One of the biggest mistakes I make as a parent or as a small group leader is when I confuse her behavior with her identity. It is so important to encourage girls in their identity as individuals and in Christ rather than try to shame them into better behavior. It may be true that she is acting irresponsibly. But better to call the choice an irresponsible one or the behavior irresponsible rather than to say that she is irresponsible. The goal is to empower, not to shame.

Above all, remember what Love did. Even though he knew they would choose the wrong one, God still put two trees in the Garden. Because a choice with no opportunity for failure isn’t really a choice, is it?

That thought terrifies me. I want to give every opportunity for success. But I want to hang on without suffocating. I want to offer support without being pushy. Is it possible to lead or parent these girls without being motivated by fear?

When she isn’t listening or doesn’t seem to care, she hears more than we know and cares more than we think. She is just learning how to show it. She is asking if she is worth it. And oh, how you know that she is worth it. How you long to tell her so. She needs time, lots of time. She needs eye contact and gentle words and love poured out all over her.

She needs our faith, not our anxiety. She needs our love, not our fear. At the same time, she needs to see our weakness and then, she needs to watch what we do with it. How do you show love to the girls in your life?

The girls in these photos are two beautiful students from the youth group where The Man is a youth pastor.

Here are some of my favorite lines from those of you who participated in Tuesdays Unwrapped this week.

“I mourned the end of summer break and the start of a new season of my life.  The one where both of my children go to school all day and I learn how to be a different kind of mom.  He showed me that my youngest starting kindergarten is really not about me.  He reminded me that it’s been His plan all along, this growing up thing.” Brianna, And Then Some More

. . . because when I read her words, something dislodged from an anxiety place inside me and I could breathe a little easier. It’s not about me, this is as it should be . . .

“Outside, black to blue to gray to pink, it is the most amazing time of day. Light washes away Darkness, Dawn gives birth to Morning.” Patty, Finding Serendipity

. . . because she sees worship in nature as perhaps no other, and she appreciates the beauty of light.

“Test results do not shake Him. Disease does not confuse Him. Toddlers do not try Him. Sin does not override Him. He sits secure today.” Lara, My Adventure With God

. . . because she is a friend in real life and I can hear her sweet voice as she says it. And because I know she believes it and because I know it’s true.

“First I notice the…remnants from last night’s supper scattered beneath the metal table. How can I rest when carpenter ants scavenge brittle pizza crust? When a rainbow of moon sand from this afternoon’s play glitters across the cement, begging to be swept? So I sweep. Return broom to garage. And I sit again.” Michelle, Graceful

. . . because I do this, too; this resting that mingles with activity that just won’t stop. And because she finds a way to do both without feeling guilty.

Join us here every Tuesday as we seek to discover gifts in the midst of the messy, the lovely, and the unexpected.

Still, I have to finish the second book. This time, not for grown ups, but for girls still in the process of becoming who they will be. Perhaps I should just call them ‘teenage girls’ because aren’t we all still in the process of becoming who we will be? And I will soon be asking your help, because as of now, neither one of these books has a title. A title is the most important part, as I nearly always judge books by their covers. Don’t you? But there are other things coming, too.

Because I am no longer under such a tight deadline, I feel free to write here with a bit more frequency and heart. And I am so excited about what’s coming. Thanks to my sister The Nester for the idea gathering and Pro-Blogger Darren Rowse for the inspiration, during October, I will join seven other bloggers in writing a month long series unique to our individual blogs and messages. Each one of us will develop 31 posts based on things we are excited to talk about. Do you want to see who is involved?

The Nester from Nesting Place: 31 Days to a Less Messy Nest

Emily from Remodeling This Life :: 31 Days of Living Simply

Jen from Balancing Beauty and Bedlam :: 31 Days to More . . . with Less

Melissa from The Inspired Room :: 31 Days of Autumn Bliss

Sandy from Reluctant Entertainer :: 31 Days to Stress-Free Entertaining

Kendra from My First Kitchen :: 31 Days to an Inspired Table

Darcy of My 3 Boybarians :: 31 Days to a Better Photo

And here, at Chatting at the Sky :: 31 Days of Grace

I know there are still five weeks until October, but it is certainly fun to anticipate an entire month of focus, whether it be getting tips on keeping my nest less messy, or issuing an invitation for you to breathe deeply of sweet grace. I hope you will enjoy it. In the meantime, I will be writing. And drinking coffee. And fixing a few dinners. And stuff.

Kristen is originally an Oklahoma girl but has traveled far and wide with her Air Force husband of 15 years. Kristen and David have 3 precious young’uns, twin sons (age 10) and a daughter (age 7). She is a forever work-in-progress whose current refining location is Colorado. She and 3 dear friends write to encourage at Moms Sharpening Moms.

At two, major separation anxiety had this boy clinging to my leg and crying as I dropped him off in the nursery or childcare room. I had to psychologically gear myself up to attend a MOPS meeting or Mother’s Day Out because I knew the first few minutes would be an ordeal. He would cry because he wanted Mama and no one else would do.

Now I’m the one fighting separation anxiety. While I love the freedom that comes with older children, I sometimes miss their unabashed ways of love-display that came from their preschool little bodies. Oh, I do not miss the crying fits. What I do miss is their bright and blazing way of showing love, like running full tilt and knocking me down with squealing hugs. Or, curling up all snuggly in my lap.

This tall 10 year old can’t fit in my lap.

I am striving to stop neck pain that comes from persistently looking backwards and enjoy my children in the here and now. What I have discovered are many moments – gifts from my Daddy – that show me this child’s love is as real and present as it was when he was very little. The difference is these moments sneak in more subtly. Moments like:

Leaning his head on my shoulder.

Sidling up to me while movie watching.

Asking me what I think about his new Lego creation.

Singing along with me to the car radio.

These love gestures are so small that I may have missed them had I not been looking.

The hallmark of these child-rearing years seems to be tension. Tension from children as they balance drawing close and pulling away. Tension from this Mama who balances her job of embracing cuddly close while encouraging (appropriate) independence.

I wonder if Jesus aches over this tension, too. Balancing our free will with His desire for us to want His presence. It is such a comfort to think that whatever I am feeling, He gets me. He’s been there, done that.

Those of you with young’uns beyond the preschool stage, what love gestures do your children show? Am I the only Mama who thinks they are few and far between ’til I take the time to see them?

I’m trying to keep my personal profile personal as there is a lot of identifying information on there and I’d like to keep my kids names private from the blog. So, I thought it was time to separate the two. If you’d like to keep in touch on Facebook, you can like Chatting at the Sky here. And the dessert has nothing to do with anything, but doesn’t it look good? It’s from a date night a few months ago. That was a good night.

I’ve been weepy today as the girls are off to school and we saw their kindergarten teachers from last year in the hallway and they were nervous/excited/happy and a mama just gets weepy on the first day of school just because. And the dog just broke a lamp. How does a dog break a lamp? By being an animal in the house, that is how. I’m gonna go find me some dessert.

The winner of Marybeth Whalen’s book The Mailbox is Heathalee of Butterfly Genes. Congrats! I sent you an email so check your inbox. Aren’t free books the best?