Listen = Love

He's telling me about an antique car some guy found in a junkyard. Only 5 of them in the world and 3 (or something like that) were crushed.

I'm only half listening.

But something nudges me, maybe it's that we're spending the day together to celebrate our 26th anniversary, and I stop what I'm doing and . . 

1. Look at him

His eyes are excited with the story.

2. I engage

It doesn't matter at all to me. Cars are cars. They get me from A to B.

But his eyes and the inflection of his voice make me smile.

3. I step toward him and nod.

And old junkyard cars that guys restore because there's just a few left in the world start to interest me.

Mean something to me.

Because he does.

BIG

He bursts by my open window. Flying and darting back and forth like some cocky bi-plane pilot. 

I'm struck by his size . . almost as big as a small bird. 

Dragonfly. 

He circles around and I lean out the window trying to keep track of his course.

Then I notice. The goosebumps. Joy. Full deep breath. The lightness of my heart and smile on my face.

Thoughts rush in. Bits and pieces but cohesive in their heaven sent message.

I must resist the urge to make life small. 

Manageable. Practical.

Confined to a to do list and trying to squeeze everyone else into my small agenda.

That illusion is delusion, and it steals my days.

I'm not in control, because I'm not meant to be. That stress that steals my smile and my sleep isn't mine to manage.

I need to lean out more windows.

I want to go with the BIG. The joy. The spirit. The carefree freedom that's mine.

The wide open opportunity of every moment. 

Big breaths. Big smiles. Noticing the small. The wonder. The now.

Like a child. Wide-eyed. Laughing. Crying. 

Being.

BIG

Happy & Healthy . . some of the time

"It's so nice to see family enjoying each other," the waitress remarked as she filled our water. 

Jeff and I were out with our oldest son for a rare 2-on-1 dinner a couple days before his graduation.

We've received a lot of similar comments over the years.

"What a lovely family."

We are really. Nine of us (going on 10) love each other a lot!

As our kids have grown older we hear it from their friends, "The Hylands are such a great family."

Lest I sound like an unabashed braggart, let me assure you the point of this post is not to tell you how wonderful we are.

Rather, I want to dispel a myth that robbed me of contentment with my family for WAY too long, and it's this . .

Happy, healthy families are always happy and healthy.

Now I know we know better than that in reality, but too often the desires of our hearts for our family can be anything but realistic.

The reality in our family is . . .

We fight. 

The kids say shut up and call each other names. 

Tensions rise concurrent with tempers. 

There is sulking, shouting, cursing, slamming. 

You name it.

It's totally real.

And we say sorry and I love you. And hug a lot. And every birthday we sit around our table after cake and presents and one by one tell the birthday boy or girl why we love them.

In our almost twenty-six years of family we've tasted almost all of the things we most hoped to avoid when we started this journey. 

Just a small bite of some and stomach wrenching swallowed mouthfuls of others.

It's been lie awake at night ugly.

And more beautiful than I ever dreamed it would or even could be.

So this is the truth that's replaced the myth. 

Happy and healthy families are happy and healthy because of God's love, forgiveness, and grace.

And the more reality we experience, the more this truth becomes true in our family.

So don't go for perfect or even something close. And when reality sets in, remember that as trite and cheesy as it may sound . . .

Love really does conquer all.

Daniel, Hilary, her brother Drew, and the rest of the happy and healthy (most of the time) brood

The TOTALLY Possible Dream

A few months ago, I silenced my cynical self, took a risk and applied to be a part of a group of dreamers with author Holley Gerth. For six months we have cheered, prayed and encouraged one another along as we dared to dream 

Even as I write this, there's still a little part of me that hears the scoffers and cynics and my own old fears dressed up in cynicism. But those voices are only a whisper now, and I've learned by experience just how untrue they are.

Cynicism is a thief.

It offers an easy excuse to avoid risk and silence the threat of those who don't.

It feels safe, but is anything but. That is if you want to live wholeheartedly, boldly, fearlessly. The kind of living that when it comes to an end has no regrets.

I've learned to name my dreams. Speak them out loud. To prefer my heart and its God given desires over fear of failure. To feel the fear and do it anyway. I've learned to walk into places that I knew were bigger than me and would demand more than my own resources. I've learned to trust God.

And it's been AMAZING!

In April, one of my God-sized dreams came true as I hosted Winsome, a retreat for women, with ten of my best friends. It was beautiful, powerful, and life changing, for me as well as the 75+ women who attended. We're already dreaming about next year.

I'm in the middle of other dreams too. I hope to publish my book "An Imperfect Mom" later this year. And I have ideas for a non-profit that will raise awareness, prayer, and support for women who are victims of human sex trafficking.

And then there are other dreams coming true. Vicarious dreams as our oldest son, Josh begins his military career as a dive officer on a submarine. I remember the birth of that dream. It was somewhere around 11 years when Josh informed us he wanted to join the Marines. That dream morphed over the years into a dream to attend the Naval Academy. Josh set his sites and stayed focused through half a lifetime, and now he has achieved his dream.

We are driving on the PA Turnpike as I write this, making a 1215 mile trip to South Dakota for another dream come true. Our son Daniel has found the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. He and Hilary will marry on Saturday and begin to dream together.

And then four weeks after we arrive home, Emily, our only daughter, will marry the man she dreamed of finding. Em and Ethan have lots of dreams including bringing God's light and love to the darkness of the music and entertainment industry through their band Emy&Ethan.

There's so much I've learned about dreaming. Much of it has come from the women I've walked with in the God-Sized Dream Team. They are incredible encouragers, brave, and gracious. I've even been able to meet a few of them and become "in real life" friends. 

Melissa Smallwood & I turned out to be neighbors!

I met up with Nasreen Fynewever in Minneapolis!

And I got to connect with Holley Gerth and lots more God-sized dreamers at Jumping Tandem in Nebraska!

You can read some of their collected stories here. Holley Gerth has mentored all of us generously and wisely. She's empowering hundreds of women to claim their God-sized dreams and equipping them with the practical knowledge to make those dreams come true. Her book "You're Made for a God-Sized Dream" is a step by step guide to this incredible adventure. You should read it! (I'm even hosting a study of it at Winsome Reads on Facebook, and you're welcome to join us!)

Of all the things I've learned, this stands out the most . . we are made to dream. 

Not just some of us, the lucky ones, or only the brave. But all of us! Every human being. And this is why. 

We were made in the image of the original dreamer. 

The One who by the power of His voice spoke His dream into existence, loved it and called it good, stood faithful by it when it faltered, sacrificed His only Son to save it, and never gave up. 

He still doesn't give up, and that's why you and I can dream bravely and with confidence. Those dreams in your heart were put there by Him! He cares about them as much as you do and wants to help you bring them to reality.

You are a HUGE part of my dream. I love to write and encourage, so when you come here and read, you complete the circle. Your comments and encouragement have kept me writing. Thank you!

Our God-Sized Dream Team group is coming to an end, but our dreams have just gotten started.

Join me? Let's . . 

. . together!

An Open Letter to My Son On Memorial Day

(a repost from two years ago)

Dear Josh,

Today is Memorial Day. I remember this time seven years ago. It was the Friday before Memorial Day, and I picked you up from school and took you and your sister and brothers to Arlington Cemetery. We walked around and amidst lots of moaning and "I need to pee" I tried to convey to you and your younger siblings the relevance of the day and the sacrifice it represented.

Our lives were so removed from the sacrifice that was being made for our freedom and all that entails. History books and stories may move us for a moment, but the blessing of our protection is often accompanied by complacency and ignorance stemming from the security that protection offers. That day seven years ago, I thought perhaps rows upon rows of white headstones might impress upon you all and myself the price of freedom.

It was inspiring to drive through town after church today and see flag after flag. (It's funny how there are so many fewer people here in our new smalltown home, yet I've never seen so many flags on Memorial Day.) Not only was I inspired, I was proud. Of you.

When they asked all those in church to stand who had family members serving, I couldn't wait to get on my feet and was so thrilled as your siblings stood up too. You know how your brothers can't wait to sit down in church, but today they were as quick to stand as me. They were so proud of you too.

This afternoon I thought of you as I hung the flag, the one that used to hang in your bedroom, on the porch. It's blowing in the wind beside me now as I write.

How many hearts have lifted, mourned, rejoiced, and known the pride I know now as their eyes gazed on this symbol? While many have known the ultimate sacrifice of their life and breath, far more have known the sacrifice that has become familiar to you.

The relinquishment of personal freedom to preserve corporate freedom.

The laying down, putting, aside, or delaying of dreams to fulfill the one called America.

The giving up of precious time with family and friends within the comfort of home so "home" might remain a place of comfort, safety, and peace.

I see your sacrifice.

I see it in your eyes as the days and hours start counting down when you have to say goodbye.

And I see it in your furrowed brow when you talk about a future that feels so tentative.

I feel it in your frustration as you struggle to comprehend God's purposes in all the uncertainty of committing to a quest that is not in your control.

And I am grateful. And proud. Thank you.

My prayer for you is that for every day you serve God and our country in the military you will hold to the ideals He planted in your heart as a boy, remember the faithful men who have gone before you, and know the distinct honor that is yours as a man in the service of his country.

With love,
Mom

P.S. Did I say I'm proud of you? ;)


(Two years later . . an update:)

Dear Josh,

You did it. The rain, wind, and cold we all sat through to see you walk across that stage, shake the hand of the President of the United States, and receive your diploma from the United States Naval Academy will only serve to make the memory more indelible over the years.

It seems fitting that your family and friends would have to "suffer" a little bit after all your discomfort over the last five years. I even thought of you as I sat there shivering and wet in the dress I knew I shouldn't wear, remembering how often you have told me you like to force yourself to accept discomfort, cold, etc so you can handle it better. 

In other words, not to be a wimp.

You've taught me that. You've persevered through physical, spiritual, social, academic and life struggles. Watching you overcome gives me courage.

I'm proud of you, Josh. And not just because you've graduated from USNA and will now serve our country as a Naval Officer. I'm proud of the man you've become, the testimony you are to my heart of God's faithfulness and grace, and the privilege it is to be your mom.

Thank you for your service to our country. And thank you for being such an incredible son. 

I love you,
Mom

Claim THIS

There are times when my heart is overwhelmed with how good my life is.

This morning is one of those times. Sitting on a quiet porch, enjoying peaceful solitude. A calm and quiet hour in the middle of a whirlwind of celebrations.

Within the short space of six weeks, our three oldest children are catapulting my husband and me into a new season of life as we celebrate our oldest son Josh's graduation from the Naval Academy, our second son Daniel's marriage to Hilary a week later, and our daughter Emily's marriage to Ethan one month after that.

There's so much goodness. More than I ever dreamed when I looked to my future with only hope and faith as my telescope. 

I feel loved.

I was brought up in a "name it & claim it" kind of church during my early years. The message I internalized was if you had enough faith, God would give you what you wanted whether that was healing from cancer or a Cadillac.

A well known preacher once spoke at our church. He told us God wanted us to be perfectly healthy. We shouldn't even need to wear glasses. This was excellent news to my twelve year old bespectacled self. I walked forward with all the faith of a child and prayed with others at the front of the church. When the preacher gave the cue, I removed my glasses fully expecting 20/20.

Fuzzy.

I put them on. Prayed again. And tentatively slipped them off.

Still fuzzy.

Dejected and feeling ashamed of my lack of faith, I walked disappointedly back to my seat.

It's over three decades later, and I'm wearing contacts as I write this. I put them in each morning, take them out each night, and my world remains fuzzy.

But one thing has become crystal clear since that disappointing day years ago.

It's not about how much faith a person has but Who that faith is in. 

Jesus' teaching on faith as small as a mustard seed and how it could move a mountain into the sea was making exactly this point. How do so many miss it and get stuck trying to muster up more faith inevitably putting the dependence and focus on the one mustering?

Faith that moves mountains is faith in a God Who is love and Who in His perfect wisdom allows suffering that at times seems like anything but love.

It is faith that keeps seeking, trusting, thanking, and praising in plenty and want. Faith that has learned contentment because of a good, faithful God who has already demonstrated His love for us through His grand rescue mission. The sacrifice and resurrection of His son Jesus.

This is the kind of faith that keeps trusting when it seems like everything is going wrong. When death claims. When disease progresses. When plans fail, relationships break, hearts suffer. 

And when little girls have to keep wearing glasses.

While perfect health, Cadillacs and 20/20 may be out of my reach, I've learned something that I can claim. And must believe to grow in my faith in Jesus.

His love and favor.

In his book "The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus" Brennan Manning tells the story of Uncle Seamus.

Several years ago, Edward Farrell, a priest from Detroit, went on a two-week summer vacation to Ireland to visit relatives. His one living uncle was about to celebrate his eightieth birthday. On the great day, Ed and his uncle got up early. It was before dawn. They took a walk along the shores of Lake Killarney and stopped to watch the sunrise. They stood side by side for a full twenty minutes and then resumed walking. Ed glanced at his uncle and saw that his face had broken into a broad smile. Ed said, “Uncle Seamus, you look very happy.” “I am.” Ed asked, “How come?” And his uncle replied, “The Father of Jesus is very fond of me.”

The Father of Jesus is very fond of me.

God is very fond of me.

My Father is very fond of me.

The faith that claims such intimate love and favor is faith that requires knowledge, trust, experience . . relationship.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. ~Ephesians 3:16-19

This is the message of Christ. Underserved favor and love. 
It takes childlike faith to claim it. 

My Father is very fond of me.

Happy Mother's Day

Mother's Day. It will be an emotional day no doubt.

For some full of joy. Maybe their first with arms full of babe and hearts overwhelmed by wonder.

Sadness will mark the day for others. Disappointment. Barren wombs. Tiny coffins. Estranged hearts.

For most a mix. Surprises, unmet expectations. Trepidatious husbands trying their best to not disappoint. To express somehow appreciation for what they could never give. Giddy children with humble gifts, burnt toast, and kisses. 

Or maybe they'll forget. It happens.

I've known twenty-three Mothers Days. Some I love to remember. Others I'd rather not.

The best are the ones I turned into . . 

THANKSGIVING

My own personal feast of faces, smiles. Six pairs of eyes . . blue, brown, and green . . looking at mine with love.

They call me Mom.

What's not to celebrate?!

My babes fifteen years ago. Sammy is missing, but he's up top with the strawberry!

And more recently . . so blessed!

edited repost