Remembering

Twenty-five years ago this month I moved to Colorado Springs to work for The Navigators. I'm not exaggerating when I say that no other event in my life had such a profound effect on who I am and what I do. I'm so grateful.

As a rookie writer, one of the stories I covered most in my first year at The Navigators was the release of The Message. A pastor I'd never heard of had just finished translating the New Testament into "contemporary language," a laborious task for him and a risky move for NavPress as his publisher.

A lot of our time in the Communications department was spent fielding complaints about The Message. People called it sacrilegious and threatened to pull their support from our field staff. Some did. But there was a 24-year writer in Communications who had never really connected with the Bible but was now devouring it. I wasn't alone, as 20 million copies sold testifies.

As I've mentioned before, one of the greatest professional privileges I've ever had was to get to spend a day with Eugene Peterson, supposedly interviewing him, but mostly just visiting with him and enjoying his company. I will treasure that day forever.

In honor of Eugene, who passed away today, I share my favorite quote of all time, which I've posted here many times.

C.S. Lewis, I apologize for choosing favorites. You know that my computer is filled with your quotes. But my life's anthem came from Eugene Peterson in my favorite of his books, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. (If you haven't read it, make this the year that you do.)


“Every day I put love on the line. There is nothing I am less good at than love. I am far better in competition than in love. I am far better at responding to my instincts and ambitions to get ahead and make my mark than I am at figuring out how to love another. I am schooled and trained in acquisitive skills, in getting my own way. And yet I decide, every day, to set aside what I can do best and attempt what I do very clumsily—open myself to the frustrations and failures of loving, daring to believe that failing in love is better than succeeding in pride.”

My Kid's in College, and Here's What I've Learned

A little over a month ago, my husband and I left our oldest child in a dorm room in Virginia and started a new chapter in our lives. Now, with a whoppin' one month of experience under my belt, I share what I've learned so far. 

• Sending your first child away to college is every bit as hard as you imagine it will be. It doesn't matter that it was time, that he needed to miss you in order to appreciate you, or how good you know this will be for all of you. It very well may be good for all of you, but it's still hard. Someone very important is missing from your house. It would be weird if that wasn't at least a little bit hard.   

• Our kids need to process the changes in their lives, and we want to be the ones they process with. For those of you who are up to your eyeballs raising younger kids right now, here's motivation to keep giving it all you've got. Sure, if you feed and water them, they will grow. But when you fully invest in them—those hours reading a book with them that you really don't care about, those chilly sporting events that you sit and cheer at, those biology tests you help them study for, those late-night conversations two hours after your preferred bed time—you're doing so much more than growing a kid. You're growing a lifelong relationship. When life gets confusing and they need to talk it out, whether they're 6, 16, or 26, you'll be the person they turn to. 

• Asking lots of questions helps them process. Don't worry, if you're over asking, they'll either let you know or they'll stop answering. But until that time comes, ask and ask and ask some more. I've been emailing Braden Seven Thursday Questions that cover everything from the food choices in the cafeteria to his relationship with God. His long answers have helped both of us process the changes happening in his life. Email works great for us because we both write, but I presume I'll find different methods that work for my other kids down the road. 

• I can't for the life of me figure out how much milk to buy. It's been a month, and our excess milk is still souring in the fridge. 

• I tend to focus on the negatives of technology, but I'm enjoying its benefits immensely. Last Thursday night we celebrated my daughter's birthday. Through the miracle of Google Hangouts, Braden was right in the middle of it. He sang Happy Birthday with gusto. He got to see her open the present he sent. He did everything but eat caramel apples with us, and even gave his sisters a complete tour of his room—all at 11:30 at night his time. It is unfortunate that Russians can spy on us through baby monitors, but I hope the person who made it possible for long-distance families to be together is blessed, rich, and happy. 

• Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. My two kids who've never had much to do with each other are now speaking with appreciation and affection of the other. I even heard one throw out an "I love you" the other night on the phone. This may be reason enough to send your child 1,600 miles away. 

• No 8-year-old waiting for a puppy is as excited for Christmas as I am. Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, but it's taken on new meaning. Now it's the Season When My Boy Comes Home. Every tree that goes on display at Hobby Lobby in September is one more reminder of Braden's impending return. If Christmas music started playing on the radio today, I'd start singing. I'll even forgo my 80-degree days for snow and a 4:49 sunset. I'm seriously considering pulling out the red and green construction paper to make a paper chain to count down the days.  

• And finally, this sending-and-releasing thing is a perpetual process. I just booked a college visit in Texas for my 17-year-old. Lord, help me. Here we go again.