When did May become the new December? Is it just me, or does anyone else’s calendar for this month look like it’s been assaulted by pen scribbles? Literally, as I was shoving pizza party money into my first grader’s backpack this morning, I briefly wondered if I could hire her a personal assistant. It’s a circus around here, folks!

I feel like there aren’t enough hours to squeeze it all in. There’s all those end-of-year parties, the purchasing of teacher gifts, recitals, Mother’s Day, Field Day (the WORST), Field Trip Day. . . Not to mention regular life, which for me involves squeezing 30-40 hours of work into two days each week.

I am overcommitted. I don’t cook enough. Some days, my quiet time with God looks like five minutes in the car between meetings. I have to cancel on friends every third time we make plans. I get anxiety about forgetting something important. I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder if I paid last month’s preschool tuition or if I turned off my curling iron.

I met a friend at the park the other day for lunch. We managed to talk a little while trying to keep our children from paralyzing themselves on the monkey bars. When we left, I sat in my car and tried to remember what we said. Basically, we spent the whole time we had together talking about how we wish we had more time together.

I drove away feeling so selfish—so whiny.

Here is something I need to accept:

I’m going to stay overcommitted. 

Don’t get me wrong; I’d love a nap.

But when I look around my house and see school books, cheerleading bows, dishes from dinner with friends, ballet slippers, (recycled) gift bags, and a fridge covered in sticky notes with barely-legible reminders . . . I have to tell myself that my life is incredibly busy, but it’s also incredibly full.

So instead of wasting precious time complaining about being busy, and instead of torturing myself with parent-guilt when I forget something, or show up late, I want to begin practicing gratitude for the fullness of this season with two small kids.

A few years back, I read a book called Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World. In it, author Joanna Weavers says,

“[Jesus] knows the journey is difficult. He knows life is rarely fair.  Jesus fought the same frigid winds of distraction, discouragement, and doubt that keep us from knowing God’s love. But like the Father, He longs to gather us in His arms. He longs to trade the flimsy blankets of our own self-sufficiency for His all-sufficiency. The Lord Jesus invites us to cast our doubts, our fears, and anxiety upon Him, to discover how much He really does care. Trust Me, My child, He whispers.  I have your ultimate good in mind.” p. 29

Today, I want to trade. I want to trade my self-sufficiency for His all-sufficiency. I can’t do it all. But I can be intentionally grateful that the One who can loves me and invites me to share the load with Him.

My life is overcommitted. But it is also so very full.

Holly Crawshaw

Holly Crawshaw is a wife, mother, and writer who eats sour candy and laughs at her own jokes. She served on staff with North Point Ministries for six years, the latter of which was spent as Preschool Director. She and her husband, Ben, are raising their two daughters, Lilah and Esmae, in their hometown of Cumming, GA.

It’s funny what your kids remember.

I was doing some reminiscing with my 18 and 22 year old sons recently. We were talking about the good times we had when they were younger.

I was remembering the. . .

dinner conversations
parties
house full of friends
water fights
movie nights
bike rides and driveway hockey after school
. . .and so much more.

You know what both of them identified as some of their fondest memories growing up?

None of the above.

Both of them said of all the things we did as a family, our family vacations meant the most to them.

Family vacations were a part of our family rhythm even before we had kids. And they were a part of the rhythm whether we had money or not.

When our kids were small, we had very little extra money and we certainly couldn’t afford to fly anywhere.

But that never stopped us.

A couple times we drove for 8 hours and stayed with friends in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York.

We went camping many times. (Which, after it rained all night and poured into our tent, is where I came to believe God gave us technology and housing as a gift.)

We did a house swap with a pastor 12 hours away. (We won. His house was 30 minutes from the ocean and the beach.)

We drove all the way to Florida. . .twice. (It’s a Canadian tradition).

We found a really cool, inexpensive place an hour from home and spent a week there for about 18 summers in a row.

As the kids got older, we did some more adventurous things. I took each of my sons individually on a trip to the West Coast (we live near Toronto). Jordan and I drove through the California, Nevada and Arizona desert together and realized there really are places with no gas stations, no restaurants and no Starbucks for hundreds of miles. Sam and I downhill biked in the Rocky Mountains (my quads have never been so sore—I could barely walk for days).

In the endless car rides, nights under the stars, favorite-song-on-repeat forever, audio books on CD (Pecos Bill narrated by Robin Williams???—oh my goodness), arguments about which restaurants to go to and what time we were allowed to get up because we squeezed all of us into a hotel room. . .something magical happened.

Now I realize there will be some of you who say, “We can’t possibly afford the time or money for a vacation this year. ” We were that family more than a few times.

What did we do about the lack of time and money for a vacation? We went anyway.

It wasn’t part of some big plan. I know that at the time, given the craziness of life, we simply felt we needed a break.

We just had no idea that all this time together would have such a cumulative impact.

But looking back, I now see the value of spending time together over time. And strangely, at 18 and 22, so do my kids.

So this year, why don’t you take a little vacation?

Don’t worry about. . .

how simple it is
that it’s not exotic
that you can’t really find the money to fly anywhere

Borrow someone’s house and give them yours for the week. Go camping nearby. Go to the lake for the weekend. It really doesn’t matter.

But when you get away, something powerful happens in families. You’ll build a bond that’s deeper than you realize.

This summer, we’re going on another family vacation.

And you know what? I can’t wait. Surprisingly, neither can my kids.

Carey Nieuwhof

Carey Nieuwhof is the lead pastor of Connexus Church and author of several books, including Parenting Beyond Your Capacity (with Reggie Joiner) and his latest book, “Lasting Impact: 7 Powerful Conversations That Will Help Your Church Grow.” Carey speaks to church leaders around the world about leadership and parenting. He writes one of the most widely read church leadership blogs at www.CareyNieuwhof.com and hosts the Carey Nieuwhof Leadership Podcast where he interviews top leaders each week.

The better you know your kids, the better you will be able to lead them.
But here’s a problem. Your kids keep changing, which means their issues keep changing.

Your kids are navigating an important journey from childhood to adulthood.

So remember:

You are not raising children.
You are raising adults.

As a parent, you have to resist the temptation to fix your child’s problems and learn instead to respond in a way that helps them grow. It starts with understanding how to stay alert to what is actually happening at every phase and learning how to read the signs.

Since every phase of a kid’s life has unique challenges, you should become aware of the kind of questions that are asked at each phase.

Preschoolers tend to ask “AM I” questions.

Am I safe?
Am I okay?
Am I able?

Elementary-age kids tend to ask “DO I” questions.

Do I have your attention?
Do I have what it takes?
Do I have any friends?

As they move toward middle school, there is a shift in the nature of a child’s questions. They become more philosophical and relational.

Middle school students tend to ask questions like…

Who do I like?
Who am I?
Where do I belong?

During high school, the questions continue to shift from concrete to abstract, from black and white to various shades of gray.

Why should I believe?
How can I matter?
What will I do?

At the center of each question is the pronoun “I.” That’s because each of these questions reflects a part of a child’s developing identity. How you respond to these questions can shape who your son or daughter becomes. So don’t miss it.

This is an excerpt from Don’t Miss it by Reggie Joiner and Kristen Ivy.