Skip to content

Tag: raising Godly children

Perspective and Verbiage

Last night Jeb said, “Farewell to the worse year of my life!”

So, I pulled my amazing 12-year-old into my arms and we had a conversation about perspective and verbiage.

2020 started with us praying daily for my brother and his family as the wildfires ravaged Australia and that mental stress morphed into the stress of the virus. We mourned the loss of friends’ family members. And, above all, there has been an overhanging fear of the uknown, fear of the virus, fear of doing something wrong and bringing it home. The boys went weeks before they ever left the house, doing virtual school, virtual taekwondo, virtual music lessons, while Gregg and I ran necessary errands. We have to mask up, hand sanitize, not play with friends, not shop and eat out like we used to.

Last night we talked about the fact that they’re living through unprecedented times. This era will be talked about historically the way we talk about the Black Plague and Smallpox eras. They’re observing things their children and grandchildren will want to hear about. They’re processing adults’ actions and reactions to the way the world is reacting to the fear and the stress. They’re listening to commentaries, listening to adults, watching Youtube videos.

Our entire world has suffered an extreme impact from this virus and we don’t even know what the repercussions of that are going to look like in five, ten, fifteen years. Globally financially, globally healthily, globally emotionally – we don’t know.

Domestically, this country is in a state of unrest that is like a tinderbox. Scott will vote for the first time in the next Presidential election, but this one was such a mess, we have no idea what that will look like. Riots and demonstrations came into our local area and the boys observed and listened to us and Kaylee talking about the overwhelming injustice of the Breonna Taylor incident and all of the things going wrong there.

My parents both lost their brothers and our families cannot come together to mourn.

Ultimately, 2020 WAS the worse year of his life, but he’s had a good life and he had a good year. Our family grew closer, our home remained virus-free. Our pantry was stocked, our freezers full, our movie supply will never run out, our games cabinet is full of family board games, and he is the master of Mexican train dominoes. He always wanted to be homeschooled and coming home for virtual school in March taught us that I could indeed homeschool and write at the same time, which has set us on that path – the best path for these boys. We redecorated his room, changed out the furniture, updated his computer, and set him up with two big monitors in his room. He has a new bike, a new hoverboard, read a few amazing books series, generated an online Fortnite community, and will test for his blackbelt this month.

It’s a scary, unknown time, but we all talked about how we believe, how we trust, how we KNOW, that God knew this was coming, knows how we’re doing, and knows what it looks like five, ten, fifty years from now. Nothing is a surprise to Him. As long as we live according to His word, love Him, trust Him, praise His holy name, then whatever happens…happens. And whatever the outcome is…the outcome. And we can lean on that and garner strength in the secure knowledge of God’s hand in our life, in our purpose for Him.

So we toasted to the new year, said farewell to the last year, and tried not to feed into the hype that the year carried with it a stigma that is suddenly gone and everything can now right itself.

1 Comment

“I’m Tired of You” – Parenting in the Time of Corona

I read a blog post yesterday from a blogger that I have followed since Hallee the Homemaker was brand-new. So, about twelve years. This article completely gave me pause and I have been mulling over what a read for the last twenty-four hours and really feel like I need to address it. The gist of it was, in the face of Corona parenting, she was sitting at dinner with her family and looked at everyone and said, “I’m tired of you.” And then she followed that up with the fact that that phrase, “I’m tired of you,” is not in any parenting book, but it should be.

Y’all, no.

It’s possible that I’m coming at this with the perspective of someone who already has a grown child. My oldest is twenty-three, and she is grown and gone. And I miss her. On a good month, I see her twice. On a normal month, I see her once. And I love spending time with her, I love talking to her, I love interacting with her via text messages and Instagram and the ways that we interact as mother and daughter. But the fact is, there is a hole in our family because she’s not here anymore. Gregg and I had a job to do with her. We were to raise a wise, independent, functional adult who loves Jesus and obeys God. And we did that. We did it really well. But it doesn’t change the fact that that seat next to me at dinner time is empty.

I understand that perspective is unique to some people in regards to this concept.


I have a family because I want those people in my life. I married Gregg because I love him and respect him and want to live and do life with him. We made a family together and we love and cherish our children. We discipline them, mold them, love them, pray for them, pray with them, teach them — and that’s our job. There’s nothing about that job that’s easy. But, there’s nothing more rewarding than the end of the day as I think back to the day about what we learned and what we talked about and what I was able to teach our children. There is truly nothing more rewarding.

Like everyone else, our family has been home since mid-March. Unlike a lot of families, my husband’s job is something that can be done remotely. Because he is high risk, he has been home since February. We still don’t go to church . We don’t go to Bible study. We still don’t have play dates. Because Gregg is high risk. It is our family…all the time.

We are together two meals a day, sitting across from the table with each other. We come together we go apart. We come together we go apart. The boys have bedrooms that they go to and we have a large living room that they come back into. Gregg and I have offices that we go to and we have a large living room that we come back into. We watch movies, we play games, we talk to each other, we laugh with each other, and we are together most of the time.

And I don’t feel like I am tired of my family. I don’t feel like I need to break away from them. If I need a moment, I can go outside or go take a bath or something. And no one will bother me.

My point is, those words are not helping any parent. The perpetuation that that is a normal thought is not a healthy thing to put out to the world.

The concept that it’s not in any parenting handbook but it should be.


No, it shouldn’t be. If that’s how you’re feeling, then there is something deficient in your mind, your heart, or in your parenting. And that is something that should be a very sincere and serious focus of reflection and prayer. Why am I feeling this way? What is deficient? How can I fix it? Here is a great resource where you can start exploring:

It’s not something for which we should strive, this normality of feeling like I’m tired of my family.

Also, to say that to your children in this terrifying, unprecedented time, when NOTHING in their lives are normal and they don’t even know how to process the news they hear or the conversations adults have in their presence… ya’ll, just NO.

Again, like I said, maybe I’m coming from a perspective of someone who already has a child out of the house and so I know what it feels like once they’re gone. Or maybe I am the one unique.

How do you feel about it?

WordPress SEO fine-tune by Meta SEO Pack from Poradnik Webmastera