The Mother of All Motivation

Grandma's backyard, sometime in the summer of 2010.  Two youngsters eagerly, or at least obediently, helping out. One youngster basking in the sun.

Now, I think the boy in the foreground is hamming it up a bit, but I thought this picture so perfectly represented what many of us face on a daily basis:  "someone" (a child, co-worker, student, church member, or golly-forbid...you or me...) who needs motivation.  At our house, I like to pay tribute to my Native American heritage by calling the "one" in question: "Him Who Need Fire Lit Under Bottom."

It's hard for me to keep myself motivated, let along be the Oprah of anyone else's life.  What's even harder, is for me to actually be a motivator and not an aggravator.  Or even worse...a nagger.

I am in a season of life where my own children need motivation more in areas of sending out resumes and filling out scholarship applications.  A couple of nights ago, while my youngest (and only offspring left in the house to nag on a consistent basis) unloaded the dishwasher, a visiting friend - who happens to be a young mom - appeared to marvel at his good deed.

I had to point out, and hopefully encourage with, the fact that the good deed rarely happens without some maternal motivation.  Darn it.

When I think of parenting, I obviously think of a lot of things.  But, the fact that I am the main motivator in another person's life is heavy.  Daunting.  Gargantuan.

Motivating.

We can approach motivation in a myriad of ways.  I've already hinted at aggravation and nagging. But, we also have manipulation, intimidation, begging and in very desperate situations...crying.  I know of these as I'm sure I've tried them all. And while some or all may seem to work from time to time, they don't produce the long-lasting effects we all desire to see in our kids.  Or students.  Or employees.

Sometimes the thought of a bad consequence is actually a good motivator.  For instance, "I don't work...I don't eat.  Wow, think I'll go to work!"  And I've sat through enough "teacher" classes to know there's been gobs written about positive and negative reinforcement. As a matter of fact, I'm going to leave the "how to" motivate to you and God.

I just want to encourage you today to motivate.  Or, at the very least, to simply remember that you are...like it or not...a motivator.

We've all heard that saying, "...the hand that rocks the cradle, rules (or rocks) the world..." a time or two. And as sentimental and sappy (and scary) as it may seem to some...it does ring a bit true.

I'm not a morning person.  I mean, I have to be, but it's not by happy-jump-out-of-bed-choice.

What motivates me is the very fact that I am a motivator.  I became one the day the nurse handed me that first baby boy...all nine pounds of him.  I had a reason.

My children aren't the only people God has put in my life to motivate.  As a matter of fact, seeing how powerful the smallest influence has been in their lives has only made me more passionate about doing my best to do what I can...when I can...to also encourage others.

Motivating myself is a loser.  I'm not that motivated by me.  Maybe you're a little disenchanted with you as well.

If you need motivation today, remember those around you.  Remember your impressionable kids.  Remember your hurting friends. Remember your struggling co-workers.

Somebody needs your encouragement today.  Your kind word. Your smile.  Your understanding.  Your funny, "Been there, done that...survived!" story.

As always, I pray you're blessed.  And always, I pray you're motivated.

How Do Ya' Like Me Now?

It's not like I'm 15, or even 27. My vanity level has certainly waned in recent years. I've got varicose veins that mimic the great waterways of the United States, and a neck that is so crepe-like...it looks like thrice-used tissue paper.  Seriously, I care...but, there isn't enough anti-aging serum in the world.

This all started with needing new pictures.  Of me. I don't mind a ridiculous pic like the one you see posted here, but I do mind having one taken for real.  So, the picture I've been using for all of my "writing & speaking stuff" - taken several years ago when I had only a few, small rivers represented on one leg, and no tissue-neck whatsoever - really needed to be replaced.  False advertising, indeed.

I have a friend who met me last Saturday and we snapped some new ones.  She's really good and I wore a lot of black.  And kept my coat on.  And wasn't broken out.  (I tend to break out when I'm teaching middle school as my way of empathizing with the pubescent students and their acne issues.  I know, I really go the extra mile.)

It's not even been a week since the big photo-shoot, and I'm completely broken out.  My hair has grown half an inch, and the new growth is the ugliest shade of dull silver you have ever seen.  Not that you're ever going to see the "map" in pictures, but the Mississippi River represented on my left thigh is bulging and quite uncomfortable.

So, when a dear friend saw one of my new, fancy, professionally done pictures on Facebook Saturday night, she texted me.  I was washing my face when I got this very flattering message about the picture and my looks and how she was so glad to be my friend.

It took exactly five seconds to take the "glasses" picture, send it and ask her the question that is now the title of this post.  She fired back that she feared my phone had been hijacked. 

I know she was laughing on the West Coast and I was laughing here in rural Kansas. I also know she probably now loves me more than ever.

We often think of appearances as something our young people have angst over.  Grown-up, mature, educated, well-adjusted women - and men - don't worry about such trivial things. Right.

I'm not saying don't take care of yourself.  The hubby and I have both dropped some major poundage in the past several months, and it feels really good. I also am trying to sleep more.  Man, did I underestimate the power of the Z's for many, many years.

I'm not saying walk around looking and smelling like you slept in a kennel all night.  We need to be good stewards of what God's given and we need to try to put our best foot forward.

But, there is a wonderful nugget from the Bible reminding us that charm is deceitful, beauty is vain...but, when you serve the Lord...you're golden. (My paraphrase...and I'm in the middle of reading "The Outsiders" with 7th graders, so you know...trying to prove "gold" can stay, Ponyboy!)

I know God always loves me...no matter what.  I know my friends and family do, too.  Whether the world deems me physically attractive, or not.

I not only walk through life with the above assurances, but with something I've learned the hard way (I won't take time to expound on the now, well-known waxing story).

I'm most lovely when I'm serving the Lord.

I pray for you.  I really, really do.  Serve with all of your soul.  Love with all of your heart. Put God above all else in your life.

Stay gold, my friends.

If You See This Person, Please Call...

Natural disasters.  School shootings.  Terrorists threats.

"Where's God in all of this?"  That seems to be the question of the day.

Actually...I don't think most people even need major tragedies to ask.  

Traffic. A cold. Cranky co-workers. Hot water pipes that keep freezing up.  Broken dishwasher.

I haven't written in a while.  And some of you may have asked...if I may be so self-indulgent to assume... "Where is she?"

 I've been asking myself the same thing lately.

And it's a good thing.

You see, we can always know where God is at...we're the ones who are often missing in action.

Truly, where am I?  Am I right in the middle of what God wants me to do?  Am I where my kids can reach and be reassured by me? Am I where my husband can call out to and count on me?  Am I where my friends can turn to and be comforted by me?  Am I where my students can listen to and learn from me?  Am I where other parents can see, hear and be encouraged by me?

Am I where God can use me?

Where is God?  Here.  Like always.  I've worked with children and families for going on three decades now.  Trust me, if God wasn't in the mix...you would be seeing tragedies of epic proportions each and every day. Maybe each and every minute.

We live in a fallen world and sadly, as long as we inhabit this place...we will experience tragedies.  In all shapes and sizes.

God's grace, hopefully coupled with those of us who can be "found,"  is what will make a difference.

Where are you today?

Don't make God come looking for you.  Make sure you're already where He wants you to be.

Kid Confident

You have to be a pretty confident kid to rock the star glasses.  You have to be an even more confident kid to rock the heart glasses. Um, well, maybe the confident one is the grown-up.

The one who is rockin' both the goofy, wide-open mouth and over-the-top spiral perm...yipes!

Building confidence in our kids is tough, and it's most certainly even harder in a world that is completely self-absorbed and insecure.  And I should interject here that I'm not merely writing of tots, as there are enough of us adults struggling with the same issue.

I've found that most concerned parents wrestle greatly with this question, "How do I build confidence in my poor, insecure kid without turning them into an arrogant fool?" Ah, Mr. Balance!  Why are you so elusive, and what must we do to find you?!

There are some pretty big nonnegotiable items in most of our parenting toolboxes:

• We all love our kids more than anybody else loves our kids.
• We all think our kids are amazing.
• We all die a little when our kids face heartbreak...of any kind.
• We all want others to enjoy our kids as much as we do.

Okay.  I can picture a few of you right now laughing and saying, "Enjoy?  Not really enjoying the little treasure right now.  Can't imagine anyone else enjoying 'em!"  So, maybe instead of the word "enjoy" I should use a phrase like, "We want to see the awesome God-given potential in our kids and hopefully, one, fine and glorious day...others will see that, too."

One of the challenges I faced...being a tad, tiny, miniscule bit older than some of my parent-readers...is that I was raised in a time of "confidence = pride."  And a human's confidence in self alone is pride.  And not the good kind.

On the other hand, God-confidence is amazing.  I fortunately had parents who were fans of saying, "Pride goeth before a fall..." AND "I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me."

There he is!! Mr. Balance!!

I'm sure you're not having epiphanies left and right out there.  I haven't felt the earth move one, single time as I've typed this.

I just encourage you today to remember that while we can do nothing of outrageously incredible eternal value on our own...through Christ...look out!

Remind yourself first.  Look in the mirror and do what I used to do when my boys were little.  "Hey, girl.  Lookin' a little rough this morning.  Maybe no more cookies after midnight.  But, you know what?  Hear that?  That's some kids.  And they're yours.  And God thought with His help, you could do a pretty bang-up job of loving 'em and raising 'em.  So, let's wash face and get to it! Before they burn the house down!"

Once I remembered who I wasn't and was in Christ, I could go remind my guys who they weren't and were in Christ.

We're all still growing here in the Land of Oz, but the growth is so much easier when we remember that the best way to a confident kid, or human of any kind, is having confidence in the One Who was - and is - confident He is the help and hope of all.
www.diaryofacavewoman.com

No Debate

It's been a little bit since I've blogged.  You see,  I've been debating on what to bring to you.

I didn't have to debate about what picture to use.  We didn't debate with the boy on the left when he was little and wanted to tear the house up with his brothers by playing "Power Rangers."  We just put our foot down and didn't do Power Rangers.  He didn't end up warped, and look...even though he wasn't allowed to watch or play Power Rangers, he grew up to meet and play with a Power Ranger. But, only when he was self-controlled enough to not tear anything up.

This picture also serves the blog well in that who would ever debate a Power Ranger?  Yikes!

Tomfoolery aside, it seems like some of you have been debating. You've been debating whether or not to let your preschooler trick-or-treat. You've been debating whether or not you should let your tween read "The Hunger Games."  You've been debating whether or not your teen is ready to date.  You've been debating whether or not you should vote...and who you should vote for.

I know of these debates, because in some moments of desperation, you bring them to me.  And it humbles me.

And, I'll be honest...it overwhelms me.

Then I start debating.

What in the world do I think I'm doing trying to encourage people? Most days, I'm just a cat shy of being my town's crazy lady.

And...I digress from there.  You know the digression.  It's similar to the one where your friend simply did not see you when you waved to her from across a packed football stadium, but within 30 minutes you have her hating you.  I knew you knew what I was talking about.

If I didn't have a Bible and a very big, patient, wise and loving God, forget the town...I would be North America's Crazy Lady.

Thankfully, II Corinthians 4:5 keeps the crazy under control:  "For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake."

Debate over. It's not what I think.  It's not what you think.  It's not what politicians think. It's not what our well-meaning Christian friends think.  It's not what the world thinks.

I'm not preaching the gospel of me. 

If you know me, you know I say this a lot.  I just also forget it a lot.  But, it's so grounding.  So calming.  So, so true.

So not debatable.

It's the Gospel of Christ.  No debate.  No pressure.

While it may seem like I'm taking the easy way out, I'm actually taking the only way out.  We have to pray, read the Bible, and listen like crazy for the Holy Spirit to lead and to guide.


Because unfortunately, most of the time...we fret over gnats while camels run amuck.

What are you debating?  What bugs are keeping you distracted?

Go back to basics.  Remember your Source.

Remember a loving God Who saw a dying world and hatched a plan to save it.

He had to make a painful choice.  He sent His perfect Son to the most imperfect of places.  And people.

We would have agonized.  We would have requested a fact checker.  We would have wanted to see the polls. We would have wanted to know what our friends thought.

Fortunately, when God chose to send Christ...there was none of this.  There was no question of what He would do.  No hesitation.  No reservation.

No debate.
www.diaryofacavewoman.com

So, You Had a Bad Day...

Two things about this picture make me smile.

1)  It wasn't taken today.
2)  It was taken at Disney World, a.k.a. "The Happiest Place on Earth."

I miss having small children in my home...I'm not gonna' lie about that one.  I don't miss having small children melting down in my home...not gonna' lie about that one, either.


But, unless you've been living under a rock your entire life, you've probably noticed all sorts of people melting down at one point or another.  Old people, teenagers, pro athletes, the Cavewoman...

We typically melt because something is wrong.  We are experiencing a crisis.

We are having...a bad day.

One of my boys' favorite books was, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst.  I don't know Ms. Viorst and I'm not receiving any compensation for this plug, but if you don't have this in your personal library - get it.

Not only because it's great for children, but also because it helps us big people put things into perspective on occasion.

The screaming child in this picture, and his older brothers, were not strangers to thinking they often experienced "very bad days."  I hate to single him out, but Boy #2 could be especially dramatic. I have no idea who he got that from...

When he was in elementary school, I would often pick him up and before he even hit the backseat of my vehicle, I knew.  His face would have this look of despair that was unmistakable.  Very, bad day face.

I would try to pretend I hadn't noticed, "Hey, Keither!  How's it going?"  "Terrible!  I had the worst day ever! EVER!"

The first few times he pulled this, it worked.  My mom heart would break and I would try to figure out and fix.  Because I thought that's what a good mom did.  Figure out.  Fix.

Somehow, it didn't work at all.

Then I had a wise talk with my wise mom.  "Don't you remember those early days of high school when I would drop you off on my way to work?  You were such a mess!"  (That was my mom talking.)  Oh, yes, I remembered.  I would be freaking out about my hair not being perfect or not liking my outfit and then break into a rant of "worst day ever."  My mom?  Unflappable.

She would not say much at all, except, "I'll be waiting in the car.  Better get it together."

Once in the car...silence.  Or, worse yet, she would hum.  HUM!  Like she was happy and completely oblivious to the world crashing down around us!

As I slid out of the passenger seat, I would sadly glance back for one last crack at empathy.  "'Bye!  I'm not going to let you ruin my day!"  Seriously.  She said that.  My mother is a genius.

I hate to tell you guys out there in caveland, but sometimes, this is just what our little cave-darlings want.  Doting.  Sympathizing.  Catering.  Caving-in.  (Pun intended.)

But, sometimes what they need is reminders. 

The world still spins.  The sun shall rise again. God is on His throne.

I needed these reminders as a teenager - one who could be quite vain.  I need these reminders as a (cough!) young woman - one who has varicose veins.  And when shorts' season comes, has a mini-meltdown. (Now that I've made that public, maybe I won't be so pathetic next summer.)

I'm not stupid.  Well, not too stupid anyway.  I know some of you have a pile of life-garbage to deal with right now.  But, some of us...we just think we do.  And we let that thinking keep us from letting our light shine through the cracked pots we call our persons.

Be encouraged today.  All of us, at times, are pressed, crushed, persecuted.

Thankfully, with Christ, we can't be destroyed.  Thankfully, He - not mom - is the Master of Figure Out and Fix.
www.diaryofacavewoman.com

Sore Shoulders

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I could have posted pictures all day of these two…just like this.  Little Guy up on Dad’s shoulders. My third-born wasn’t only very young in those days, he was very little.

I remember practically throwing a party when he broke the 30-pound mark.  And he was already in school.  Big kid school…not preschool.

Little Guy, like all boys in my cave, experienced a late growth spurt and though I still see him as too little to be playing varsity football…there he is, and one of the bigger guys to boot.  Makes my mom-knees shake.  And my mom-tummy hurt.

When Little Guy was in every way little, he never could see.  I don’t mean he was physically blind, I mean he was constantly trying to see past kneecaps.  Fortunately, he had a dad who didn’t mind hoisting him up top.

Long before ads posed the question - “Can you hear me now?” - our family often heard Dad asking the baby, “Can you see it now?”  Sometimes it was a quick, “Yup!”  Other times, it almost became a game, “Nuh-uh, Daddy!  Over!  Tan’t see it!  Over, pwease!  Nope!  Utter way!  Wittle more…dare!  Dat’s it! I tan see it!”

I never asked him and I never heard him complain, but I’m thinking Caveman’s shoulders had to get sore…or at the very least, tired.  Add to that the times the kid got excited during a parade or fireworks spectacular, when I’m sure there were bruise marks left in the armpit area!  But, really, I never heard him gripe.  It came with the territory of being entrusted with new life…it’s what we do. 

We help others see.

My shoulders get sore sometimes.  My armpits have been kicked by flailing feet.  But, man, is it worth it.

Who are you hoisting up today?  Think about the people you get to help see.

You get to help them see God’s love, His goodness and their potential.

Wow, now that’s heavy.

www.diaryofacavewoman.com