Rockets, September, and How to Successfully Soar This Year

At first it just looked like an empty field.

Two dogs and a couple walked the corner of a barren soccer field. There were no rockets in sight. 

"Hmm, I thought it was here," I murmured to Daniel, checking my phone and the address again. "I'll call Mark to get Art's number." 

And then, just as the call was finishing, we saw them. Far in the distance to the right rippled a couple tent awnings, with some men and boys lined up. 

Daniel and I grabbed lawn chairs and water bottles and began the long hike. 

Grandpas, fathers, young men and boys crouched around tables, totes and truck beds. A towering spiny ridge of twelve metal spokes took center stage. Males lined up rockets in various sizes, colors, and shapes, sliding the rocket bodies down spindles, and attaching them to the electrical firing mechanisms.

Daniel joined them, walking up in pride and excitement, uncertain of how it all worked. New-acquaintance Mr. Neal graciously taught him how to thread the rocket down the take-off rod before attaching two metal clips to each fuse wire. 

That's where your power comes from, he taught us. The new rocket model motor, for all its fiery potential, was nothing without the spark. 

Daniel checked the connections and stepped back. 

"Range closed," the leader rang out, and the twelve or fifteen of us walked back behind the safety line. Mr. Neal moved behind the electrical control box, teaching Daniel how to arm and fire his rocket for when his turn came. 

One by one each rocket's name, creator and motor type was announced, before the launch sequence began. Five, four, three, two, one! 

Squealing whooshes and whizzes, rumbles and pops surprised us. We exclaimed and followed the flight paths of each rocket, losing them for a bit in the afternoon sunlight and blue sky. 

Achieving peak trajectory, they hung mid-air for a moment before hurtling towards earth. Free-falling rockets tumbled and dropped at fast rates as we watched and murmured, exclaiming or laughing at each one's story. Tiny parachutes burst out in oranges, yellows, pinks, or red, while other rockets tore in two and raced towards the ground, crashing hard. 

One by one down the line, rockets of all shapes and sizes had their turn. Most crackled and soared high, but several remained silent, motionless on the launch floor as the controller flicked their ignition buttons with no response.

Welp, connection error, the rocket controller concluded and moved on to other rockets. 

And I felt it, this truth from rocket falls and rocket launches. If I'm not connected to time in God's word, to the powerful life and joy and meaning that flows from him, then I'm just stuck silent on the launch pad. My only sizzle and life flows from the Creator of this rotating globe, and everything else is just a dressed-up rocket with no juice to go. 

And I've heard it, that Martin Luther used to say that he was too busy NOT to pray, indeed ordering his busiest days to schedule in extra time to pray. That has resonated strongly in me this week. Pouring coffee, grabbing journal, Bible and pen, I scratch To Do lists alongside writing out a Bible psalm each morning, and I feel it soak God's vitality and purpose deep in me. 

As September sidles up beside us, and the schedules shift, join me in this? Let's check to make sure our connections are clipped in. Are you linked to the Source? Getting juiced up? 

That's where our Power comes from, friend. 

May your times savoring God's presence bring you joy, life, and centered-focus in this busy season. May he be your soul's rest and renewal, your slowed-down moments, before you hurtle high. 

Smiling with you, cheering you on too, and praying for you, 

Jennifer 

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On Summer Nights When Adults Are Tempted to Play Hooky Too

September's twilight creeps green and orange in chill night air. Yellow and pink zinnia flowers stand tall beside rosy sedum.

Smoky woodfires scented the end of a kids' park play date, and now children's voices chirp loudly from trees. They leap, waving sticks, leaning close to growl make-believe battles.

My son races inside to grab a late supper. "Can I take my food outside, Mom?" he asks, wisping blonde hair cut close. "My friends have eaten already."

"Sure, buddy. Careful, this part of the plate is hot." I set his saucer on the front stoop, and watch him balance lemonade and cheesy enchiladas.

Summer has surrendered and fall has flown in! Sharpened pencils, notebooks, and mounding schoolbooks stack precarious in one corner of the dining room table.

And even though I'm the teacher, I admit it. I'm tempted to play hooky. Summer swim dates at the YMCA pool, gardening pleasures, and a slower pace still call me. As a mom and teacher, I'd love to hide away the schoolbooks and schedules, linger long over morning coffee tomorrow, and walk barefoot through wet grass to the swing instead.

Photo Credit: Flickr user John Benson, Creative Commons cc license

You too?

But instead, I'll get an early night's sleep, brew a tall French press coffee, and pull up chairs with my fourth grader tomorrow.

My tall nineteen year old daughter is back in college; grown-man-son and his wife have graduated college and now both work full-days nearby. Youngest son scales trees and joins me most days at the table for fourth grade now, and my husband and I are trying to model this grown up life. Soaking in Jesus, thanking him for life and joys each day, we strive to be brave and watchful and responsible.

Being an adult is much like jogging, I'm learning. Both require the hard work of showing up and laughing at the effort needed some days. For me there is lots of self-talk, mixed with thanking God for breath, life, and his presence.

Crickets in dark sky and black tree branches announce nightfall. The front door squeaks as Daniel comes in, closing up for the night. Grabbing last minute second-suppers, he readies for bed.

I vaguely remember truth from yesterday and stand to riffle through stacked books on the table to find it. Then, there, I see it. Scrawled black gel pen copy words from God's ancient book: "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." And I'm still learning what that means, but it helps me greet September, and school days, and the coming year with fresh eyes.

Join me? What are you learning and thinking about this month?

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On their First Days Back to School

Photo: cx33000, Flickr user, Creative Commons cc license

An imperceptible noise wakes me and I turn. Red digital numbers gleam 6:44 am and I am grateful, Thanks for waking me up, God. I slip quietly out of bed, wanting to hug and pray for John on his first day back to school.

Yellow kitchen light washes streaks across a dark living room carpet, and I can hear John around the corner.

"Hi," I grin sleepily and hug him, my eyes still creased against the brightness. Tall, broad-shouldered, my twenty year old is packing a lunch. Bagging baby carrots, a ham and wheat sandwich, and looking around for chips, he already has a plastic container of yesterday's fried rice.

"I'll be at school all day today," he says, closing the bread bag.

"There are apples," I murmur.

While he is gathering his lunch, I pray aloud for him, asking God to give him safety in rush hour roads, energy and excitement for his college classes, connections with his professors, and a good year of learning. He stops and smiles, "Mmm, thanks, Mom."

We hug and move to the front stairway entry where he loads his backpack.

"Oh hey, here is a red notebook for you!" I scramble away for a moment, returning with a simple single subject notebook, a traditional gift for my kids each year when they used to journal often. "It's your favorite color."

"Thanks," he grins, flipping it open. "Um..." and he shows me. An assembly error has stapled all the pages upside down. We laugh, and John grabs his bag.

"Have a great day," I say, sitting small on the steps above him. "I'm proud of you for getting up early for your classes, for getting a lunch, and being so organized. You got this! You can do this."

"Thanks, Mom," he says, and he opens his heart up more on his way out the door, and I am so thankful for this morning of seeing him off.

Thanks, God, for waking me up. What a gift.

Confessions of a HomeSchooling Mom

It didn't seem fair to wake them up early for school on Labor Day, after a late night, so I poured myself another cup of coffee, and relaxed my expectations for the day. This was really more of a school introduction today.

As a homeschooling mom to a ninth grader and a kindergartener, with my eldest off in his first year of college, school looks different this year. It is splashy cellophane-wrapped kindergarten kits of calenders and continents, with colorful alphabet banners, twenty-four-piece People Color crayons, and beautiful multicultural faces from around the world. Kindergarten still sits wrapped in cellophane on the table, though, while my ninth grader and I read Physical Science about atoms and molecules, and my kindergartener plays Wii games downstairs.

Confession 1.) Some days, school doesn't start at 9 am. And I haven't taken a shower yet.
Confession 2.) I am as excited as the students are -- often more so-- at the prospect of new books to read and things to learn.

As more people stream in and out of the kitchen and living room where we are reading, Morgan and I sneak away to a quiet bedroom to continue our science.

Confession 3.) I don't always have all items on hand to do the experiments before we read about it.

"Okay, I'm going to need to find two copper wires for this experiment," I admit sheepishly to my Morgan. "Let's read about it now, and then we'll do it later, okay?... Wow, look! We're actually ripping water molecules apart here! That's cool."

Confession 4.) I love learning along with them.

Lunch comes and goes, with family members fending for themselves in between subjects. The scent of grilling cheese and turkey simmer out from the panini-maker, and chunky apple wedges dot the table. Strawberries and chips are a mid-morning snack.

Dirty dishes line one side of my sink, while clean dishes from last night fill two counters to the left of the sink.

Mammoth zucchini boats were shredded down to towering wet mounds of grated green-striped pulp, and folded into muffins last night. The last of those sweet muffins was gobbled up this morning by the earliest risers.

School supplies adorn my kitchen table in glory, while photographic books of India, China, Mongolia and Japan stack in glossy piles according to country on my floor. Legos and plastic army warriors huddle as toys from the night before, scattered between school piles, and I still haven't started kindergarten yet. I think it will be afternoons, three times a week.

Daughter disappears downstairs, clicking into her internet links on Chinese History and Culture, and writing summaries about Chinese school systems, pagodas, the Hidden City, and more.

My husband and college-age son are out playing tennis today on their day off, while I introduce high school and kindergarten to the ones at home. I text both men, asking them to stop and pick up bread, ice cream and maybe some snacks on the way home.

Confession 5.) We're out of "good" food, my kids say, and lunch requires their creativity, or heating up leftovers.

Silence descends on my home as brains are being stretched and used. And that sound of learning? It's beautiful!

Excuse me as I grab some books, open some cellophaned maps and start kindergarten. I can't wait...

Linking with Ann at A Holy Experience.

What to Bring to College with You (& Maybe With Us Each Day too?)

White terry dish-cloths lie haphazardly across orange dish soap, green scratch pads, and his very first "sauce pan" to make pasta and eggs.

"Have I taught you how to boil noodles?" I ask.

We choose four white plates ("Wide enough to hold lots of food, Mom"), two large red-rimmed bowls deep enough to hold steaming Ramen soup packets, and then nestled silverware for four. In between calls to a roommate's family to see about shower curtains, we choose a matching bath mat, and marvel at how cheap the cans of Comet bath scrubbing powder are. We deliberate glassware and finger pizza cutters, laughingly.

Most of all, though, as he leaves for college, I want him to carry with him-- I want all my students to pack with them!-- these truths:

1.) Your worth and identity in Christ is already built, and is forged in who you are in him. You are loved, chased, pursued, created with purpose and imbued with passions and skills. Your joy and fulfillment will blow you away when you are leaning into him, breathing him in. You have immeasurable value, not because of your grades or anything you have done. You can't earn God by your actions, but he has paid everything to buy you life in him. He calls you dearly-loved, the apple of his eye, and he delights in you.

2.) And you know what? He says that about the people around you too. So often, they don't know it. Walking blindly and silently, or blusteringly loud, they may not know their value and worth, nor the One who made them. Stop and really see them --look deep into their eyes and smile--knowing how God sees them. Hear them: their stories, their fears, their dreams, and love them with his clean, caring love.

 3.) True freedom spills past university doors. It's so much more than the unbridled ease of bedtimes, mealtimes, class-times, free time, and the days being yours. True freedom splashes wild and big throughout your entire life. This freedom flows from knowing whose you are, and that all of life is an adventure of running full-tilt with your Maker. Throw your hands wide, grab each moment in strong hands, and live! 

How has your week gone? What do you wish you had known your first year of college, or in your first years after high school? 

(Found this post helpful? Please feel free to forward this on to any friends and family who may find it helpful too. Feel free to pin, tweet, or forward this post.)

Photo credit #1 to Rochester.edu.
Photo credit #2 to DakDillon Photography.

Don't Let Fear of Looking Foolish Stop You

 Glassy highrise buildings slipped past, mirroring the sky. Parallel-parking beside joggers and bicyclists at Lake Harriet in Minneapolis, we piled out of the car, carrying roller blades, a folded stroller, and a brown paper bag of hot bagels.

 On our last days of vacation-- this segment of the "stay-cation"--we were all intentionally making family memories and savoring these last few days of normal. The last few weeks of having John here with us before he moved to college. The last few weeks of summer, and the last few days of relaxed family time. Strolling past the rose gardens, we joked and sniffed occasional buds, noticing how fast the weeds grew here too. Groundskeepers in tan shirts gouged out fast-growing weeds and scrambled to keep up with passing time.

 After the cherubim fountain and the spitting turtle fountain, my broad-shouldered college-bound John raced across the grass to climb a tree, charmed by its low-hanging branch. Mark handed five-year old Daniel up, entrusting him to John, and swung up after them.

"Wow, Dad! I didn't know you could climb trees!" my daughter cried.

"What? I'm not that old. I can climb trees," Mark asserted (several times that day).

 My daughter joined him, swinging up with a bit of help, and perching beside them.

"C'mon, Mom, let's all go up!"

 For all my talk of loving to climb trees, it had still been a long time since I had swung up into one this size. Jumping up, my hands only slipped off the smooth bark again.

"I'm too short. My hands can't get a grip." I laughed and complained. They urged me, good-naturedly teasing me and trying to spite me into success. Laughing, jumping, and falling, I stood barefoot in the grass looking up at them.

"My shirt will gap open! Sorry, it's not a good tree-climbing shirt." I worried.

"John, don't look for a sec," Mark advised. Handing Daniel to the kids, he jumped down, and hoisted me up. I scrambled ungracefully to his shoulders, scooted up from there, and grabbed on to the branch, shrieking and giggling. My oldest nearly fell off the tree in silent laughter.

Finally, we were all there, six feet off the ground, grabbing onto the weathered bark of the branch. Wrapping ankles together for balance, I reassured Daniel that we were fine, and Mark set up the camera for our family photo.

Happy August 12th to you, friend! Kids around the nation start school this week, others start in a few weeks, and my son moves onto his college campus soon.

Savor today. Savor your family and friends. Climb trees, look silly, laugh hard, and build family memories. What crazy or fun thing have you done this week? I love hearing from you.

Linking with Emily at Imperfect Prose. 

Start the Year off Right: Building Confident Kids Who See Others

In an eight am to two pm day of orientation for PSEO students (high school students taking free college classes for dual credits), we have been released for a social mingling time. My brown-haired John stretches long arms, arcing tired shoulders, and cracks his knuckles, in the arena where all students are to stay. Parents are making their way out to an atrium for coffee and discussions.

John expresses a very French mentality aloud to me when he says, “In my classes I plan on really getting to know the kids and look forward to it, but this time here…” he trails off and I understand. Why build too deep of conversations now with people you may never see again? We grin at each other and I repeat aloud what we have always done. “Well, you can use this time to look for the people who seem to be alone, and reach out to them.” He smiles and stands. 

As I step into the corridor, I hear his confident voice saying, “Hi, what’s your name?” and then his pleased response to a quiet voice, “Oh, Morgan? That’s my sister’s name!” He fades out of hearing as I close in with a throng of moms and dads heading for the styrofoam cups of coffee. Several minutes later, cradling a bulk-brewed cup of java, I scan the crowd, and take turns walking up to some women. “Hi…” 

The best advice I ever received about people – in addition to the truth that Jesus made them wonderfully and loves them—is the concept that everyone feels shy, nervous or insecure at times. 

I didn’t learn that until my first year of college. A tall blonde waitress at the Italian restaurant I worked at oozed confidence. All the male workers noticed her, and I shyly wondered if my new boyfriend at the time would succumb to her charms as well. God nudged me to reach out to her on several occasions, but I was sure I had misheard him. She didn’t look as if she needed any new friends. One afternoon shift, though, I found her crying in a back room. We talked for a while and hugged, and I realized how wrong I had been. Everyone needs kind smiles, a friendly hello, and sincerity, no matter how confident, successful, put-together or popular they look. Everyone needs to know that they have value.

So, the next time you are feeling shy… inhale, remember what God says about your value and their value, and then walk up to them, smiling. “Hi…” 

To build confident compassionate kids, whisper to them the truths of who God says they are. Help them see others in that same way. Let them in on the secret that everyone –no matter how confident they appear—is insecure at times about something. Then unleash them to love others with our Abba’s love.  

...I love talking with you. What advice would you pass on to new students this year? Or, what do you wish you had known about people earlier? (To join the discussion from email, click here.) 

Win a Free Coffee Card! Share Your Back to School Ideas...

 Last night after a coffee date, my husband and I strolled through the Back to School corner at Target. Smooth-glide pens, unsharpened pencils, piles of notebooks or three ring binders, and boxes of untouched crayons excite me with their possibilities.

School starts in 13 days. While we are savoring every last day of summer now, once school starts I like to inspire my kids for learning. We've raised live butterflies and tadpoles, painted family crests, and decorated journals. Plus each year, I like to lay out the new school books, notebooks, freshly sharpened pencils, and art supplies to intrigue and draw in my children's interest for the year.

What about you? Let's swap creative ideas for getting kids and moms excited about going back to school. What do you do to raise excitement for going back to school for your kids? Or, what did your mom do that got you excited for school each fall? I would love to hear your ideas.


In fact, as a thank you gift for your  ideas, I'll enter your name in a hat to buy one person coffee for the day. Here's how to win: 
1.) Post your answer in the comments below to get your name in the hat.
2.) Optional: Answer this question on your blog also with a link to my blog there for another chance to win.
3.) Optional: After commenting with your answer here, click Share to Facebook to post this site with your good idea on your facebook wall too.
Three ways to earn your name in the hat for a coffee card. Let me know what you do in the comments section below so I can get your name listed as many times as possible. I'll post the winner on Monday.

Let's encourage each other as our families go back to school.