Redeeming Mardi Gras
Images of Mardi Gras swirl in my head.
Debauchery. Excess. Lewdness. Abandon. Sensuality. Revelry. Beads. Licentiousness. Drunkenness. The pursuit of pleasure at all costs.
I’m not sure about you, but I have a super complicated relationship with pleasure.
At times, I overestimate its value and seek it with abandon at any cost to my own demise, still unsatisfied and longing for more, kind of like what will be happening today in New Orleans.
In other moments, I squelch it, deeming it unnecessary, and certainly not “Christian” and even harmful to my wellbeing. I swing from feasting to fasting, just trying to figure it out this complex partnership, never quite landing anywhere.
I need pleasure. You need it. It’s really good for me, especially when it’s in its designed space, as my kind and faithful servant and not my harsh and self-seeking master. It’s a straight-up gift from God to remind me of His goodness.
When I think about it, I’ve been given five senses to experience joy and delight for just this very reason, the immense freedom to enjoy the goodness of God. It’s no wonder the Psalmist says,
“Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
- I taste delectable flavors (potato chips and milk for me…I know…super strange), savoring each sip or bite.
- I hear sounds that excite and both calm my soul and levels unreached in other ways (my favorite is the garage door closing when my budding adult is home after a night being out).
- Through the sense of touch, I know comfort and bliss (warm sunshine on my face after a long winter), and also experience love and intimacy with the people I love (a long hug with my hubby).
- My sight allows me to capture the untarnished beauty of the world (butterflies fluttering in my garden brings me personal joy).
- My sense of smell gives me a completely unique experience of the life around me (lilacs in May and peonies in June for this New Jersey girl), especially and uniquely mine, a true gift in a world of billions of people.
I am reminded I am one-of-a-kind and God does some things just for me! How amazing is that?!?
Today, take a minute to think about what brings you pleasure. You may have just forgotten because of all the overwhelming “duties” on your plate. What is your favorite thing to taste, see, touch, hear and smell?
Hopefully carve out just a few moments on this Mardi Gras to experience even one, savoring it as you do, bringing your senses to life and reminding you that “Yes. God’s creation is good” and He’s gifted it to you to declare to your heart His unending goodness and unfailing love!
From My Heart to Yours
“You Better Watch Out” God
“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
(Prince Caspian, Chapter 10)
I lay on my bunk bed at boarding school in Ethiopia. I am just nine years old. My bunkmate stirs below me. I wind my musical Raggedy Ann doll over and over, hoping to get some sleep. Sleep does not come.
I rehash the day. Thoughts swirl: “I did a bunch of wrong things. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. I should confess my sins. Hey God, I’m sorry for all the bad things I did today. I hope you can forgive me.”
Still no rest for my eyes and tired body. I go into a bit of a panic. “Maybe I didn’t mean it for real when I prayed the magic prayer asking God into my heart. If I did mean it, I would not be so naughty.”
I whisper the same thing for the umpteenth time, “Please come into my heart. I really mean it this time. I will be better tomorrow.” Still nothing. I lay there wide-awake.
My mind happily drifts to earlier in the evening, my dorm mother reading us another chapter in the story of Narnia. The image of Aslan, a loving lion who makes everything good and right in a strange land, and seems to adore children and even play with them, floods my mind. “I love Aslan. I wish God was like Aslan. Why can’t He be?”
As I finally drift off to sleep, resting in the comfort of the lion who loves children, I have a flicker of hope: “Maybe He is.”
For decades, Santa has flooded the Christmas season. A jolly man with a jolly heart. A man who rewards good behavior with toys and naughty behavior with “a lump of coal.” My friend “prayed to Santa” all year and confessed her sins, much like I did to God as a young girl.
It makes a lot of sense. “He (Santa) sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. YOU BETTER WATCH OUT! Santa Claus is coming to town.”
Sounds eerily similar to a song from those little girl boarding school days: “Be careful little eyes what you see, for the Father up above is looking down below, so be careful little eyes what you see.” YOU BETTER WATCH OUT.
Recently, Santa’s Elf (on the Shelf) has stepped in to “help Santa.” This Elf is dispatched from the North Pole at the start of Advent. He or she enters homes to keep a watchful eye on the children, ensuring good behavior during the rough parenting patch when kids are over-sugared and over-excited for Christmas. His or her “job” is to make sure they belong on Santa’s “nice” list. YOU BETTER WATCH OUT!
Santa. God. Elf on the Shelf. YOU BETTER WATCH OUT!
Fast forward 30+ years. I’m a mom of four littles who loves celebrating Santa (in fact, my seven-year old just opened her letter from the North Pole). We don’t have an Elf on the Shelf (only because he/she is not invented yet). But me, this “desperate-to-please-God” young mom, believes wholeheartedly in a this YOU BETTER WATCH OUT God.
I’m stuck in my grown-up mom body as the little nine-year old girl on her bunk bed. God is no different than Santa or Elf on a Shelf. He’s up there watching my every good and bad behavior, ready to reward or “smite” me for each one, his main goal to get me to behave, to be good for goodness sake.
You yelled at your kids today. BAD!
You taught Sunday School. GOOD!
You told that white lie to your best friend! BAD!
You helped your twelve-year-old with their homework. GOOD!
You forgot to pray! BAD!
My relationship with this Santa/Elf on a Shelf/God is a little topsy-turvy. I’m filled with and act from the stranglehold of fear and guilt. Am I good enough today? Is God happy with me?
I hide or at least try to. Why wouldn’t I? I avoid Him. Who wouldn’t? I struggle to feel close, spending all my energy keeping my external, visible behavior under control, hoping it’s enough, trying to avoid that proverbial “lump of coal,” God’s utter disapproval of me. UGH!
My internal craving for love and belonging is completely sacrificed on the external “behavior management” altar. YOU BETTER WATCH OUT!
In the middle of all of this, the stories of Narnia reenter my life and I have a reunion with Aslan. I find three-hour-long radio theater dramatic renditions (absolutely a must-buy if you have kids) of these tales that I loved as a child. I kill two birds with one stone: share this amazing lion with my own children and at the same time, keep them quiet on long car rides (keeping it real people).
As I reconnect with Aslan, I find again that he is wise, playful, generous, kind, mysterious, terrifying, magnificent, beautiful and unconditionally loving all at once. He is the one I long for and need so desperately, my grownup heart still fragile from the many years of trying to keep myself in line.
That hopeful thought I had as a child flickers again in the darkness of my soul.
God is not like Santa.
God is not like the Elf on the Shelf.
God is not ultimately concerned with “behavior management.”
God is like Aslan.
God is wise. God is playful. God is generous. God is kind. God is mysterious. God is terrifying. God is magnificent. God is beautiful. God unconditionally loves and He unconditionally loves me. Period. End of story.
No more YOU BETTER WATCH OUT!
My soul settles slowly (I’m talking years of retraining my brain) into a place of love and belonging. Yes, God sees me. He really sees me. He sees that little girl in the bunkbed, fearful, yet hopeful. He sees the young mom who longs to be known fully, and loved completely. He still sees me, the real real me. But instead of “setting me straight,” His beautiful, tender, kind heart sets me free!
My flicker so long ago, “Maybe He is,” burns brightly as a fire of hope that shouts, “YES. YES HE IS.”
P.S. I have told people that, as a child, I loved Aslan more than I loved Jesus. I found out that a concerned mother once wrote C. S. Lewis on behalf of her son, Laurence, who, having read The Chronicles of Narnia, became concerned that he loved Aslan more than Jesus.
In his response, Lewis offered this relief: “Laurence can’t really love Aslan more than Jesus, even if he feels that’s what he is doing. For the things he loves Aslan for doing or saying are simply the things Jesus really did and said. So that when Laurence thinks he is loving Aslan, he is really loving Jesus: and perhaps loving Him more than he ever did before.”
***ONE MORE NOTE: If you liked reading this, please go back out and “like” it on social media. Means the world to me!***
I Looked In the Mirror
I looked in the mirror and what did I see,
I saw an older woman looking at me.
Not a young mom who hasn’t had sleep,
But a grateful heart whose love runs deep.
Not a girlish grin that laughs at today,
But a strong soul who still longs to play.
Not a budding wife still in a hiding place,
But a life-long partner who lends a safe space.
Not a stubborn spirit who’s boxed up her God.
But a settled self no longer a fraud.
Not a sprite face with delicate lines,
But warm eyes with a smile that’s mine.
I looked in the mirror and what did I see.
I saw a tender warrior looking at me.
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Happy Birthday Allen!
“The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green.” (Thomas Carlyle)
Allen. A word that comes off my lips probably twenty times a day. A word that sometimes is surrounded by love and other times by frustration. A word like no other in my life. A word that encompasses kindness unlike I’ve known before, integrity that quietly makes a profound statement, humility that lifts others up and spirituality that is deep and genuine.
I’ve struck gold in the landscape of life. This man, who I’ve known for almost 30 years just keeps getting better and better. He’s the best gift I’ve ever been given. And he gave me four more gifts in our incredible children, as qualities I see growing in them reflect who their dad is.
Allen embodies the spirit of “being kind over being right” (and thank God for that, because I like being right just a little too much). I watch it play out in quiet moments with close friends and strangers alike. He is considerate to both immediate family and the homeless that wander the streets of New York City. Co-workers who spend every day with him and the poor who don’t have access to clean water benefit from his heart of benevolence. His gracious spirit permeates his times with his partners in ministry and the engaged couples we minister to together. As you can see, his kindness is genuine, often and without boundaries.
Integrity is the suit of armor Allen puts on every single day. He does “the right thing even when no one is watching.” I would know. I live with the guy. He doesn’t cheat on his taxes, on his expense sheet at work, or me. He is the same person in the morning at work, in a board meeting at our church, on a weekend with the guys, and our family at home. I trust him completely and utterly. What a gift!
I struggle with thinking I’m better than everyone else (#notabigsurprise). I know. I’m working on it. And one of the reasons I’m working on it is because of this man named Allen who shows genuine humility. I want to be seen and heard. He wants others to be seen and heard, including me. He’s the biggest reason why I started this blog. He wants my voice out there. He actually, deep-down-inside, believes that others are valuable and takes the role of a servant much of the time even though he is a highly successful business man with mad skills. You can find him washing the dishes, folding the laundry, performing menial, unseen tasks no one else wants to do and never expecting the notice and applause of others. I am so blessed!
My favorite thing about Allen, and probably why he’s all those other things, is that he is deeply spiritual. His inner life matters more to him than his outward persona. He seeks God with ferocity. He spends time in prayerful solitude in all kinds of places (the woods, his favorite chair in our family room, the airport as he’s waiting for a flight). He seeks wise counsel with me as we work to have a better marriage and partnership for this journey. He has a group of male friends called the Muckmeisters who meet every other week to encourage and be encouraged along their inner journeys. We share our lives with a group of couples where Allen is vulnerable and open with his struggles and successes. He voraciously reads anything he can get his hands on (at our local library because he is an accountant and keeps our money under control) that will help him on his path to becoming spiritually and emotionally whole. He is the real deal!!
Allen is not perfect by any means. No one is. That’s what makes this post even more precious to me! I spend a lot of time thinking about and dwelling on all the things he is not, the ways I wish he was different. But today, on his 57th birthday, I am shouting for all to hear the things that HE IS, the parts of him that are his truest self.
To my boys: you have a great father. I don’t want you to be him. I want you to be yourselves. I want you to see, by Dad’s example, that you can be your truest, best selves in all that God made you to be. You are already great men and a lot of the reason you are is because of the amazing dad that you have.
To my girls: you have a great father. He has been more than enough for you and shown you what a good man is. Sarah, you have chosen wisely and have two good men (one big and one little) yourself. How blessed they both are to have you as their wife and mom. Rachel, you are still to choose. I know you will choose well. Dad will be a blubbering mess when he walks you down the aisle!
To Allen today: you are amazing! You are to be celebrated! I am so grateful to share my life with you! Keep doing what you are doing! Don’t change who you are (even though at times I’m shouting otherwise)! You make the world, and especially mine, a better place just because you are in it! I see you! I salute you! Happy Birthday! I hope we have 57 more of them together!!! And even that won’t be long enough!!
I HAVE THE FREEDOM TO…
I do not take this day lightly.
My heart swells with thanksgiving that I live in a place where my innate need and hunger for freedom is met.
This framework of outer freedom bestows a space where my many-times trembling, but just-enough-times brave heart fights for my inner freedom, a sacredness no one, no thing can touch.
I have the freedom to be kind.
I have the freedom to enjoy beauty.
I have the freedom to learn, grow and change.
I have the freedom to be generous.
I have the freedom to be trustworthy.
I have the freedom to love my neighbor, period.
I have the freedom to take risks.
I have the freedom to be gentle.
I have the freedom to walk with integrity.
I have the freedom to be filled with respect for all.
I have the freedom to show compassion.
I have the freedom to journey with humility.
I have the freedom to forgive.
I have the freedom to shine my light.
I have the freedom to be patient.
I have the freedom to be authentic and vulnerable.
I have the freedom to don the mantle of courage.
I have the freedom to open my heart to an abiding faith.
I have the freedom to work with all my might.
I have the freedom to always hope.
These freedoms, similar to the outer ones, must be fought for on the battlefields of my heart, my soul, my body and my mind with great strength and courage, every moment of every day.
HERE’S TO BRAVING THE FIGHT OF ALL FIGHTS TOGETHER!
God, Weird Mom Agendas, Fixing Stuff and a Resting Heart
One of my favorite parts of being a mom is when all my children are in the same room, sleeping under the same roof and sitting around the same table. I can see their huge bodies curled up in a ball on the couch, hear their voices singing in the shower, and give them hugs like I never want to let them go. I am with them and my heart is happy. Right now, in this season of momhood, sadness comes knowing it’s temporary and that I stay here and they go there.
It’s true. I am still with them. I cheer for them in their triumphs, am sad for their struggles and pain, and plop my mom heart down next to theirs during the every day stuff of life. I want them to know in the depths of their souls that they are not alone.
But this is also true. I am not with them the way I used to or even want to be. This is the hard part, the letting go part, the budding adult part, the “trusting God” part.
God is with them even more than I could ever be. He’s not limited physically like me. That calms my heart when I can’t be there in bodily mom form. He reaches them in places that I will never be able to touch. He is the only One who can do that. I rest there.
He also doesn’t have weird mom agendas for them like I do. He doesn’t lecture them to “get their act together” like I might. He doesn’t have fear when they don’t like I might. He is just with them. I rest there.
He doesn’t try to fix everything for them like I’ve been known to do (cough cough). He lets them be right where they are, in all their good and bad choices, and sits beside them in all of them, holding them close to His heart. He loves them no matter what. I rest there.
He believes in them even when they might not believe in themselves. When they can’t see their own goodness and value, He reminds them gently. He is fiercely committed to them for their whole life, actually forever. He isn’t going anywhere. I rest there.
The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
I’m soaking this into my soul today: God goes before me. He goes before them. He’s with me. He’s with them. God will never leave me. He will never leave them. Take courage, sweet heart of mine. REST. RIGHT. THERE.
Please don’t forget to “LIKE” the post on social media! I know it means you have to “go back out and click on something,” but it would mean the world to me!!!
Dear Church of the Ascension (I Have Some Confessions to Make),
“We work out our faith with these other broken men and women around us in the pews.” (Tish Harrison Warren)
Dear Church of the Ascension,
I have visited your church two times. My husband and I live in New Jersey, but he works in Pittsburgh three days a week and has an apartment in the Strip District, not very far from you. About once a month, I make the reverse commute and we spend the weekend in Pittsburgh, a city I have come to love and enjoy beyond what I thought possible.
It’s on these weekends that we have walked through your bright red door, been greeted by your people, sat in your pews, listened to your choir, watched your children gather at the feet of your rectors, opened the scriptures, kneeled in prayer and shared bread and wine. It’s on these weekends that we have been outsiders peeking in on how you navigate this complex world of “church” in the new millennium.
I have some confessions to make to you this Palm Sunday morning, a day where I will be entering into the doors of another church, one where my view is from the inside out, not the outside in, one where we’ve loved and served for many years, one that is also maneuvering the mosaic of “church” in 2019.
Back to my confessions.
Today, I confess that I only visited your church because I was mildly obsessed with Tish Harrison Warren, having soaked up her book, Liturgy of the Ordinary, not only once at a cursory level, but in depth with my women’s group. When I found out that she had moved to Pittsburgh and was a writer in residence only a mile away from my husband’s apartment, I was determined to visit you. I felt a little like the paparazzi, as I recorded her talk with the children, received communion from her and talked her ear off as she was greeting parishioners. It was not my finest moment, but as she reminds me in her book, we are all “limping to redemption,” and I am included in the “all.”
Today, I confess that something changed inside of me that first day. I wanted to come back. Not just because of Tish, although her talks that day fed my soul the love that it so longed for, but because as I watched and wondered about this community that “practiced” very differently than what I am used to, it seemed kind and gracious, filled with love for those on the inside and those on the outside (me included), the kind of love Jesus talks about every chance He gets.
Today, I confess that I came back with my husband, this time my motivation not to see Tish (I didn’t even see her that day), but to be filled again with this love you have to share. I confess that as I sat there, tears welled in my eyes as the message of God’s love for me was communicated from beginning to end, almost as if it was a calculated move on your part. Here is just a glimpse of the words that leapt from the white booklet and the hymnal I held in my hands:
We started here…
“O love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee.”
“Come down, O Love Divine, seek thou this soul of mine.”
“What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul,
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
to lay aside His crown for my soul, for my soul,
to lay aside His crown for my soul.”
“Jesu, my love, my joy, my rest, Thy perfect love close in my breast…”
The middle was filled with this:
And we ended here…
“O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!”
Whether it was deliberately planned by your leadership, God knew what I needed that day, my heart was more open to receiving the love and goodness of God, or ALL of those in sweet combination, my “outsider” self felt beautifully connected to you and your people, and especially to the loving heart of God.
Today, my last confession is one of thanks to you. Thank you for being a beacon in the middle of my beloved adopted city of Pittsburgh. Thank you for giving this outsider a place of belonging. Tish reminds me in her book that “God loves and delights in the people in the pews around me and dares me to find beauty in them.” I have found the beauty in you. Your beauty is one that has given me inspiration for my inquisitive mind, daring hope as an anchor for my soul, but most of all, deep, deep love for my longing heart, a beautiful and firm foundation that I carry with me into this Holy Week ahead. Thank you. We shout HOSANNA (“Come Save Us!”) together today!
Godspeed, Church of the Ascension! I will be coming through your red doors again soon!
*If you liked this, please go onto social media and give me a thumbs up or a like. It would mean a lot to me.*
Happy Birthday 33-Year-Old Younger Self!
Dear Esther Joy,
It’s February 18, 1999 and it’s your 33rd birthday today. You stand on the edge of a year that marks the beginning of the best part of your life!
You have been married just shy of eight years to Allen and you already have three children: Sarah (6), Jared (5) and Joshua (almost “free”). You just found out in the last week that you are expecting your fourth in the fall. WOW! Just WOW! I’m not sure how you are doing it. I am exhausted just at the thought of it all!
Allen works in New York City for Pfizer. He commutes three hours a day on a train from your home in Berkeley Heights, New Jersey. You stay at home, trying to corral all the kiddos and make some money on the side, typing for anyone who needs it. You both fall into bed exhausted at the end of long and blurry days.
You are both highly involved at church. Allen is an elder (yes, he’s only 36 years old…I see the irony here). You are in charge of the church nursery (your main and silly goal to keep it germ-free). Both of you oversee the busy Sunday School as its superintendents. Allen goes to Bible study each Tuesday night and prayer meeting every Saturday morning. You attend Bible study for young moms on Wednesdays. Sundays are spent going to church, give or take a few hours in the afternoon (when many times you have the speaker over for lunch),. The rest of your week is filled with all the other social events that are part of this community of kind souls.
You have lots of friends from your church and a neighborhood filled with young families who you enjoy tremendously. Your life is extremely busy and full and looks picture-perfect from the outside. You are the quintessential Christian woman, wife, and mom, or so it seems.
Little do you know what I, your 53-year-old self, know about you. I love you, younger version of me, but I never want to be you again. I say that tenderly, knowing that you are just stuck and don’t know better and are trying your hardest with what you know and believe right now.
Your marriage to Allen is filled with hiding, from each other and even from yourselves. Both of you long to be exemplary Christians and have the ideal “Christ-like” marriage, but you are missing the forest for the trees. You don’t have a lot of conflict (after all, fighting is wrong and ungodly), but you DO NOT have a lot of closeness. Your desire to hang on to this external image prevents the two of you from sharing your mutual brokenness and meeting each other in that place, extending compassion and grace, and ultimately healing. You will eventually find that what scared you greatly, being fully-known, flaws and all, is actually the safest place of all, fully-loved by each other. Twenty years from now, you will spend a weekend away with Allen, reminding each other of how grateful you are to know and love each other more deeply than you could have ever imagined. Your continuously growing, although still bumpy marriage, once filled with pretense is now a source of restoration for others.
You want your kids to behave above all else. You believe that getting them to keep all the rules at school, church and home, is the answer to the giant question of whether or not you are a good mom. You use guilt and fear more often than not, those being two readily available resources in your tool chest. You genuinely do love your kids, the good news being that this love wins out over the long haul. Fear and guilt slowly begin to step aside when your fourth, Rachel, is born later this year. In 20 years time, you will have growing relationships with each of your four, and they all will speak words of kindness and understanding as you discuss all your strengths and struggles in raising them on your new-found podcast, something that doesn’t even exist today. What a gift this will be to you, as you turn 53. One of them will even send you a note on Facebook (something else that doesn’t exist yet) that “you are the greatest of all time” as you head to bed that night. It doesn’t get any better than that. LOVE WINS!
Your desire to be good and look good makes my heart sad. You believe that God’s ultimate goal is to get you to behave (hence your goal for your kids). You set rules for yourself that keep you in check and when they don’t, you fall into the shame and blame cycle with yourself and others. You are trapped in the crazy formulaic thinking that following all the rules makes for a good and happy life, but when it all falls apart a few years from now, thankfully bigger life-changing things like grace and mercy come flooding in from a BIG GOD like a tsunami. He gently picks up the pieces of your broken and confused heart and puts you back together in a way that’s better than if you had never fallen apart. He is a GOOD GOD and worthy to be trusted each and every day, in all the beautiful and messy moments that make up your incredible life’s journey.
I repeat, I love you, younger version of me. It’s all going to be okay. What you see now is but a dim shadow of the beauty that’s to come. I promise you a few things: you don’t do it all right. In fact, you make some mistakes that cost you greatly. You are afraid sometimes, very afraid. Your faith is tested to the shattering point. Your heart is broken into a million pieces. BUT, you do not give up HOPE, even in the middle of your fear. The One who is the source of all HOPE does not give up on you. You do not give up FAITH, even though the waves swirl around you, and it’s hard for you to see the Object of your FAITH. He keeps his eye unwaveringly on you. Though your heart splinters into fragments, you do not give up LOVE. LOVE HIMSELF slowly shows you that you are LOVED beyond measure and this LOVE is freeing and healing. It’s from this LOVE that you will begin to love others. You have a long way to go, and so do I. I wonder what our 73-year-old wiser self will say to us. It’s just good to be on this journey together!
Your mom (and mine) chose this verse when you (and I) were born. It’s true today and it will be for the rest of your life. Take heart, younger Esther Joy. All will be well.
From my heart to yours,
SHAMELESS BEG…PLEASE LIKE THIS (AND COMMENT) ON SOCIAL MEDIA OR HERE SO THAT OTHERS HAVE THE BEST CHANCE TO READ (the social media algorithms have us all a little baffled) …IT WILL BE THE BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT YOU CAN GIVE THIS GIRL!
Faith is a Journey, Not a Guilt Trip (Link to Podcast)
Sarah, our first-born, and a mom herself, tackles the tough question about how our faith journey both harmed and helped her during her childhood. What happened when our faith was filled with fear and guilt and behavior-management? What changed when that all began to unravel? How did we change and what was different in how we parented? FIND OUT the wise piece of advice she gives toward the end (you have to listen all the way through) that brought healing in my own life (right on the spot). She reveals something that we ALL need to hear! CLICK ON LINK BELOW!
Please share with all the parents you know! It’s about 25 minutes! Perfect for a car ride or doing dishes or going for a walk! You really don’t want to miss it!