I’m convinced that the fundamental and distinctive characteristics and qualities of an individual – call it their moral and spiritual DNA, is formed by what is taught and trained, ingrained in them day-by-day over years and years. This process creates the very essence of their lives, the vital foundation from which future life decisions originate.

We humans like to compartmentalize everything. But life is holistic.* Everything’s connected.

For instance, our kid gets acne so we buy the cadillac of zit creams and slather it to remedy the crisis. But in actuality did you know that skin issues are most often a symptom of what lies beneath in the gut, the foundation of a healthy body?!

This revelation as it applies to our physical health is truly revolutionary – but it’s just as powerful in our parenting.

The value of a solid, healthy foundation really cannot be exaggerated. It’s essential to a solid life. It’s the result of a consistent, faithful presence doing what needs to be done over the course of someone’s life development.

Find any individual having a positive impact in the world, look over their shoulder and it’s likely you’ll see a dedicated parent or parental figure who invested a lot into their foundation. It’s precisely what made the person who the person is.

A mother and a father have such power. Super powers in fact, but the most important people on the planet are ofttimes hidden and underestimated, and eclipsed by the myths of popular culture.

Historically, many mothers dismiss their influence as inconsequential. They imagine vainly that they’re flunkie moms, glorified maids, dull nannies.

They don’t comprehend that their daily multitudinous tasks for their family’s benefit are setting the mold for their children. They reckon, “if women can have it all, why on earth would I not hire out all the unimportant tasks to someone less gifted?” But very little is unimportant in the scope of parenting.

It’s easy for parents to overlook the fact that the most important moment of their lives is always **NOW**!

Yes, everything matters because this is a holistic, comprehensive approach to developing a human being.

• the organic green smoothie you’re blending
•  the chore chart you’re making
• the book you’re reading aloud
• the iPhone you’re denying
• the attitude you’re correcting
• the big screen television that’s not running
• the thank you note you’re requiring
• the bed you’re making
• the prayer you’re praying
• the credit cards you’re shredding
• the marriage vows you’re honoring
• the political discussion you’re broaching
• the foster child you’re nurturing
• the meal you’re delivering to the elderly neighbor
• the gossip you aren’t tolerating at the dinner table…is all working in synergy to produce a combined effect in your child that is greater than the sum of their separate effects to build a healthy, whole, stable individual who will in turn, build a healthy, whole, stable society with their influence on the world around them.

You are developing a culture in which your child is eternally influenced through all their five senses, soul and spirit.

Children do not primarily need the benefits of a mother bringing home an additional paycheck, but the entire household needs the influence of a mother in the home in these formative years.

We have only to scan the news headlines to see life after broken life, fool after fool, train wreck after train wreck of lives coming undone.
Unstable people without a clue.
Their foundations weren’t laid properly.
They are sorely lacking in substance.
It’s not a speech they need – too late for that.
Rehab may help. But it’s iffy.
It was the tireless, unending, laborious, exhausting, discipline and discipleship of a mother and father that was foisted off on others who didn’t have what it takes to get the job done in a youngster’s life.

Dr. Caroline Leaf, cognitive neuroscientist and best selling author confirms this principle in her book, Who Switched Off My Brain. “Childhood is a particularly crucial time for the brain because neural sculpting is at its lifetime high. Many of our abilities, tendencies, talents and reactions are hardwired in childhood and set a mental stage for adulthood.”

Herein lies the root of the corruption of public morals in our day. Character is developed over time and it’s what makes the world go round. It’s what determines decisions and divorces and successes and failures, monies made, stolen and given. Character drives the course of history, the condition of nations, cities, villages, communities and neighborhoods.

The dominant, constant force in that kid’s life is going to constantly dominate in his life.
It’s really quite simple.
Who’s imparting to your children-reminding, hugging, instructing, mentoring, training, re-training, repeat?
It’s all so clear.
This is easy.
This is too easy to miss when so many have their hands outstretched to take this responsibility from you.

It’s about developing values and conscience and conviction and perceptions and judgments and discernment both intentionally and ‘accidentally’ in a human being who will, in turn, touch so many other human beings for better or worse.

Your Two-Minute Takeaway

1. What specific, helpful thoughts came to mind as you read this post? Write these thoughts down, as they are the revelation you will be inspired by into the future so that you can be aware and take appropriate action for positive change as you build a healthy foundation in your home, for the benefit of your children.
2. Look at the big picture of your family’s weekly and monthly schedules and evaluate what really needs to change. Are you so busy and distracted that you are missing so much of ‘The NOW!’ of daily life? I’ve been there and I understand. It could be time for a course correction. Pray and ask for wisdom to bring practical change to your weekly, monthly and quarterly schedule.

*Holistic: characterized by comprehension of the parts of something as intimately interconnected and explicable only by reference to the whole.

Hello friend,

This coming Wednesday, November 11th is a federal holiday here in the U.S. when we pause to thank our military veterans; those who have served or are serving in our armed forces in peace and in war.

In light of all we’re seeing play out before us regarding our recent bizarre, unprecedented election process, it’s a moment to reflect, talk to our children, and remind ourselves of our great Republic and the miracle of its ‘birth,’ our responsibility to protect it, and the necessity to demand truth in this pivotal moment in history.

Our privilege to vote legally in the greatest free nation on planet earth is a grace gift from God that’s been purchased and upheld by the service and sacrifice of generations of these awesome patriots.

This is our moment to stand up and speak up.

Don’t leave your responsibility to someone else.

Yes, shocking. I actually went to a theater this weekend!

I literally cannot remember the last movie I’ve seen in a theater, as much as I love a good flick.

I’ve had a Fandango credit since last summer when hubby and I planned to take our grandkids to see a new movie. We chose a different activity, and banked the credit.

Yesterday was rainy and cold and a reminder popped up to use my credit, so I randomly checked to see what was playing. There were some oldies sprinkled into the lineup and this one caught my eye.

Watching American Sniper from my cozy recliner in a first-rate, heated theater was odd, as you can imagine. The movie was brutal and heartwarming at the same time. Hats off to its production team – I think it’s worth your time.

I thought the lead characters did an outstanding job, but I didn’t leave the theater filled with lighthearted joy, to say the least. But it was a solid, healthy reminder of the price paid (and continuing to be paid) by so many men and women in our military.

Christopher Scott Kyle, the subject of the movie, was a U.S. Navy SEAL sniper who served 4 tours in the Iraq War, and was awarded several commendations for acts of heroism and meritorious service in combat.

May God bless our honorable vets and their families who sacrifice so much for our freedoms and the preservation of our legal, precious vote.

Quick, healthy chick food girls love…

Switching gears here, but I promised to share a little time-saving, healthy tip (and a story about hubby’s food preferences lol)

We raised 5 sons – eating machines. Wasting food wasn’t an option so I always found a way to stretch and repurpose pretty much any ingredients. ‘Goulash’ was a fallback for me. OK I’m laughing out loud right now.

My dear husband will eat just about anything and never complains, but goulash crossed a line for him. Still laughing. I would typically begin with ground beef, onion, garlic, seasonings, diced tomatoes…and throw in everything but the kitchen sink. He registered his critique asking if I could limit the parade of items I tossed into it. (leftover veggies, black olives, garbanzo beans, peas, macaroni – you get the picture…)

One day I switched it up and decided to use ground turkey, diced onion, seasonings and just one or two vegetables like diced zucchini and summer squash. Instead of calling it goulash, when he asked what we were having, I said…er, uh, turkey tumble! Now I am really laughing. He eyed it suspiciously and ate it, but it’s not his fav.

I literally crave it. Use the dark meat ground turkey for optimum flavor.

I make a pile of it, keep it in the fridge and eat it until it’s gone (4 days in fridge maximum for food safety) on top of prepared, bagged, washed and ready salad mixes, baby arugula, romaine lettuce leaves, grated carrot – whatever is prepped so I just have to open the bag and dump it on a plate.

Sometimes I drizzle dressing on top; yesterday I went all out and added diced avocado and cherry tomatoes. Here’s how it looked:

Sounds so simple, but it’s delish ?

I’d love to know if you give it a try!

Enjoying the blog? I’m so glad! Have you subscribed for my weekly inspirations, helpful resources and MORE? Just do it, I hate spam too! Find the link HERE

May we summon courage and wisdom and be guided and guarded by our loving Lord in the critical days ahead.

With so much love and constant prayers,

On January 7th media exploded with Apple’s two leading stockholders’ urgent request of the tech-world  behemoth: SAVE OUR KIDS FROM YOUR DEVICES!

And for a brief moment, the whole wide world snuggled up together and nodded in agreement as we all pondered the negative stats on our kids by overuse of electronic devices. In a nutshell these trends were cited in the article (HERE) in detail:

1. students’ increased inability to focus on educational tasks
2. students increasing emotional challenges
3. students increasing social challenges
4. students’ physical and social activity lessening
5. students with higher risk factors for suicide
6. students getting too little sleep leading to weight gain and high blood pressure
7. And evidence tells us that, day-by-day as their heads are buried in social media, modern children are becoming heartless automatons.

A study by UCLA researchers showed that after 5 days at a device-free outdoor camp, children performed far better on tests for EMPATHY than a control group.

Do we really need a test, a statistic or a control group to convince us that kids whose days and nights are dominated by electronic devices rather than by human interaction will be less human, thus expressing less active compassion?

Is any of this a surprise to you parents??!

Of course not, because intuitively as the parents of our precious children, WE KNOW BETTER, which the article detailed (HERE) as follows:

• 58% of parents say they worry about the influence of social media on their child’s physical and mental health.
• 48% of parents say that regulating their child’s screen time is a “constant battle,” and
• 58% of parents say they feel like their child is “attached” to their phone or tablet.

We know how our devices affect us personally, as well as those we attempt to interact with who are dominated by their smartphones and laptops.

But apparently, Dads and Moms can’t seem to find the word ‘no’ in their vocabulary or the courage to enforce it when it comes to electronics and their children.

So we need Apple to, in essence, ‘parent our children’ because we aren’t doing our job?!

All this ‘helpfulness for parents’ is the sunny side of something called CONTROL.

Just like Seattle’s new tax (HERE) on soda and other sugary beverages which went into effect January 1st, adding a whopping cost of 1.75% per fluid ounce (HERE for how this affects our wallets)  to ‘encourage citizens to cut down on the consumption of sugary drinks that have little nutritional value and are linked to obesity, diabetes and other health problems.’ BECAUSE SEATTLE’S CITIZENS CAN’T CONTROL THEMSELVES or their children and limit intake of sugary drinks…am I right??

So…since I can’t or won’t govern myself and my kids, someone else is enlisted to do the job at my expense in the form of increased taxes or hiking the price of my Frappucino, iPad, iPhone or laptop.

Furthermore, because there’s a gun to parents’ heads and parents can’t help but give their kids the password to the iPad or the iphone maybe Apple needs to keep the password from the parents, too, and create a new password daily to dole out on a timeline appropriate to the measure of the parent’s character??

Do you see the insanity of all this chatter?!

Could it be that parents are generally so stressed out, in debt, discontented and distracted that by the time they fly in the door from a long, tiring day at work plus commute, they are all too happy to hand their kid the iPad or the iPhone to get some relief from their restless, noisy children who haven’t been trained to entertain themselves with…

• reading and appreciating good books
• playing outside
• crafting
• artwork
• building Legos
• playing with the pure bred pooch their parents gave them
• using the expensive playground equipment Santa brought them??

Could it be that children aren’t being trained to regularly carry weight and develop emotional intelligence by…

• doing household chores
• serving their needy neighbors
• playing with their siblings
• preparing or helping to prepare simple meals?

Parents, what are we willing to do to save our children?
How serious are we about what we say we want for our families?

Some ideas for immediate relief:

1. talk to our children about our sincere concerns, our hearts for them and their best interest and a clear plan for immediate change
2. changing passwords and pressing restart
3. unplugging during the school week with appropriate measures of time allotted as a reward on weekends
4. declare that evenings are reading/digging in the dirt/art/sibling play time rather than vegging-in-front-of-the tablet time
5. listen to music
6. cook together
7. take a walk together and appreciate nature
8. sell the iPhones and get pre-paid flip phones
9. go back to VCRS and dvds

And if that doesn’t quite go to the root of the issue and you really want to go for broke:

You might consider selling the house with the inflated mortgage, buying a lesser home, or renting a modest apartment, selling the second car that’s on payments, stop eating out and cut up the credit cards. Consider job/schedule changes and reduce hours spent commuting, so you have some mental, emotional, and spiritual margin left to cope with this serious mission to raise amazing children.

Parents WE are the example
Parents WE must unplug
Parents WE must address our overspending
Parents WE must make peace with OUR JOB to PARENT our children
Parents WE must train our muscle of ‘delayed gratification’ first, then apply this training to our children

Parents the power is in your hand

We have as our example a man who decidedly chose not to throw his hands up in the air and beg for help from Apple. He knew the power in his own hands.

In a 2010 interview, asked whether his kids loved the iPad, the late Steve Jobs, former CEO of Apple, famously said, “We don’t allow the iPad in the home. We think it’s too dangerous for them.” Even he recognized the threat to the children of the world he himself had unleashed.

If you found this post helpful, and would like some more practical empowerment for your parenting, grab my free E-book 15 Minutes to Raising an Extraordinary Human for a limited time HERE 

You could call me intuitive. It’s the way I’m wired. I sometimes get a sense about things before they happen. And sometimes I wish I didn’t know.

A few weeks before our recent move from California to Washington State, I sensed a foreboding of sorts. Nothing alarming, just very real to my heart. Hubby and I were riding our bikes on a trail near our home when I casually announced,

“I feel like I’m going to go through a narrow place in our new city.”

He gave me a quizzical look and in typical black-and-white man-fashion with an Italian twist blurted out, “what does that even MEAN?!” as he went on listing every positive, wonderful and practical reason my thinking was flawed on this matter.

After all, this wasn’t his premonition or revelation, it was mine. About me. So I didn’t get defensive, I simply replied,

“I don’t exactly know how to describe it, but in my heart I understand it.”

And I knew in my knower that this was a thing and it wasn’t going away and it wasn’t gonna be easy. And in typical emotional-woman fashion, I cried. A lot.

The rest is history as you might know from my previous blog posts. (Click>> HERE for all the juicy details!) The week of our move I broke my [driving] ankle in two places and was immediately ushered into a very narrow existence, beyond what I had anticipated.

House arrest. Handcuffed by pain and swelling, crutches, then a cast, a second cast, a scooter, and now – the human cone of shame – a walking boot…in the middle of one of the biggest, most complicated moves of my life – my MIDLIFE mind you! Restrained not only by these earmarks of injury but by my utter and often humiliating dependence upon others; their schedules, their intuition, their personalities, their moods, their decisions…and their Costco runs! Thanks be to God!

Narrow? Try suffocating. At times, infuriating. And yes, in particularly helpless moments, depressing. (I may be whining. Sorry.)

Then, the property I felt really excited about (that was potentially gonna earn me boatloads of cash) I tried to buy twice – didn’t come through twice. Sigh. God always answers our prayers, just not always on our timeline or in the manner we expect or with the answer we want, despite our begging. Sometimes the answer is silence. Sometimes the answer is ‘no’. I don’t like ‘no’ except that a ‘no’ is protecting me from the wrong thing, so a ‘no’ is a good answer, right? And sometimes the answer is ‘here, take a break while I work on that.’ #bigeyesemoji

Consequently we decided to rent (which means now I get to move twice, hallelujah) and moved into one of the cool old mansion-turned-apartment buildings in our city; walkable, bike-able…if only I still had my bike, the one I’ve used for 10 years, my faithful companion through the trails and trials of Northern California, but it was stolen. Along with my laundry. My newest most beloved summer pieces – they left some nice ones, too, which made absolutely no sense. (WT? You don’t like ALL my clothes??) Because yes, now I live in an urban as opposed to SUBurban apartment with communal coin laundry a few floors down. I know, QUARTERS! It makes me feel like I’m at a resort LOL. And hubby and I share a bathroom for the first time in….hmm 36 years. That’ll test your marriage. And my scooter doesn’t fit in there. Talk about narrow. Sheesh. And as I hobble about my new city and my new small spaces, I surrender to the burn of the pressing narrow of my now. Hand me a tissue somebody!

A thought came strongly to me the other day, “in quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” Hmm. Ponder that. I think that’s a verse from the Scriptures. Haven’t read that one in ages. Gotta look that up. Yep. Isaiah 30:15.

Lord knows I’ve experienced lots of quiet and alone places in the past 2+ months, and as I reflect upon my adult life, I’d have to say it’s the quiet alone places I’ve found to be the seedbed for the wonderful things in my life. Solitary places of meditation, prayer and repose – I can envision those actual physical, geographical spots even now – scattered literally across the globe the past three decades, which have been places of preparation, even launching pads, for my future.

And I’m reminded that lots of vital and precious substances like coal, zinc, platinum, pearls, gold and diamonds are created in narrow, dark, alone places. In truth, despite the torture of my narrow, I’ve found an oasis of serenity being stuck on my arse without the usual options I enjoyed in my former existence. And I must confess…….I’m almost afraid to go back.

Sometimes you have to go through a narrow place to get to a broad place. Think butterflies and babies.

And sometimes the road gets very narrow right before the break through. And I have a hunch that before long I’m going to understand the importance of this season, my Summer Break on the Isle of Immobility, and I truly hope my struggles have benefitted you somehow. See you next time…

(If you’d like to read the entire series on this topic or share it with a friend who’s going through the process of rehab from injury, click here. Thanks for sharing!)

[In answer to my last blog post called ‘Prisoner in a Minute,’ Part 2 ‘: Is this the proverbial winepress? Am I the grapes? Is this where all the good stuff comes out?]

Here’s what’s emerging from my summer break on the Isle of Immobility, after fracturing my ankle in two places in the middle of a big move to another state.

1. Removing Options Has Simplified Life.
I like things a certain way. More than I knew. I’ve been forced to be a whole lot less particular about everything. Dirty toilets, packing strategies, cream in my coffee, personal appearance. Daily organic green smoothies are a distant, tearful memory. Staring down my Fitbit and bathroom scale, I began living like a prisoner, eating whatever was offered me whenever it arrived, with a grateful heart. Lots of carbs plus digging in the box of Sees candy because I could reach it from my rolling chair. Don’t judge.

2. Unnecessary Toil Is Eliminated
Hubby says I create work for myself. It’s hard to hear, but it’s true, dangit. (Back to liking things the way I like them, which always requires more toil). I’m hosting overseas guests for breakfast in the middle of all my dust and boxes this morning. I want things nice. But I don’t have orange juice, enough tortillas or a pastry to serve with the meal. I can’t thoroughly clean on one leg, or make a quick trip to the grocery store to add all the bells and whistles. Oh well. So I cut the tortillas in half to make them look like more, added toast as an option and pulled out whip cream for the sliced fruit salad instead of serving a coffee cake. Good enough has to be good enough and something about that seems like a healthy adjustment to this driven perfectionist sitting in her chair.

3. Life’s Not So Bad from My Laptop
In case you haven’t heard, online shopping rocks. In the past 2 weeks I’ve ordered everything from t-shirts, sticky tack, and shower curtains to homeopathic remedies and birthday gifts. Free shipping, free returns, to my door, stat. #Thumbsup. Grocery delivery makes perfect sense even if you’re not injured. I’m currently using a mainline grocery store in addition to a local organic delivery service to stock my kitchen. Urban eats is available, too, and has some good options for the occasional splurge. (When all else fails, begging from and co-oping with the neighbors fosters relationship and great conversation.)

3. I’m Learning Patient Endurance

As I sit here typing, surveying all around me that needs ‘doing,’ the simplest of tasks I am currently unable to accomplish; the flies buzzing around my head I can’t chase, the stacks of boxes I’ve yet to unpack and organize, my delayed errands begging to be done, that gadget I cannot reach! ad infinitum,  I feeeeeeel the burrrrnnnnn. I painfully acknowledge my inability to control my circumstances toward my preferred outcome. And I surrender. Several times a day. And pray. And today I wipe away a few tears. And I recall a statement I made in my May 24th blog post, “Patience is produced by painful endurance.” I’m sure all this delayed gratification during my move is working something good in me, somehow.

4. Humility and Friendship Has Been Highlighted

And suddenly my whole life depended on someone else. The day my ankle broke, I felt myself sinking to the bottom of the ocean as I surveyed the moving detail needing attention in the following 6 days. My friends instinctively knew and they texted, emailed, and showed up to help. (Why is it so hard to accept help??!) I honestly didn’t know they loved me enough to serve me so selflessly. We had played tennis, celebrated birthdays, enjoyed happy hours and Bunco….but this??! No one wants to pack someone else’s crap. They saw me at my weakest point and threw me a lifeline as I was drowning in desperation. Hashtag bonding.

5. Unspoken Sentiments Emerged
People often don’t say what they’re thinking until a point of crisis when life as we know it comes to a screeching halt. I was dumbfounded at the verbal expressions of love and friendship I received throughout my dark tunnel from friends and neighbors. Time stood still long enough for hearts to be bared, stories shared, and precious words spoken that might never have been heard, had I been walking on two healthy legs, not moving to another state. Priceless.

6. Daily Life Revelations
Without significant interruptions, it’s easy to live on auto-pilot. But with the formidable barricade of immobility constantly placed before each of my daily life habits, patterns become very clear. I’m being forced to ask, “am I happy with the habits of my life and where they’re taking me? Are my daily choices leading me to where I want to go?? What needs to be adjusted?”

One of my daily habits is to brew a perfect cup of coffee (emphasis on perfect 🙂 are we seeing a pattern here?! LOL) and read/meditate on a passage from my Bible first thing in the morning. This week I bumped into Philippians 4:11-13 “…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (OUCH!) I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” 

I’ve reflected on those words throughout my days, my tears, my groans, and my long waits. Until next time, you’ll find me hanging onto that hope!

Make it a great week. (Click here for Part 4, ‘No, I’m Not Psychic’)

I’m kind of like a Jack Russell Terrier. Perpetual motion. Fitbit freak. Perfectionist. Until I broke my ankle in two places seven days before the moving truck arrived.

In a minute, I was banished to the Isle of Immobility at perhaps the most inconvenient time Providence could have allowed. I became a prisoner of my physical limitations.

Crutches. Handless. Left foot only. Carrying stuff around my neck, in my pockets, held between my teeth…determined, yes, but decidedly deterred.

Messes everywhere.
Sticky counters, clutter, crumbs, moving boxes, bubble wrap.
I hobble past the mess and groan because I can’t fix it.
So I sit, powerless to handle things my way, the only way I do things, my preferred methods and outcomes no longer my reality.
Deep sigh.
Asking for Every. Little. Thing.
“Calling Strategic Command Center…I just want my supplements…to get the mail…change the sheets…shower…pack that closet…do 3 errands in 20 minutes…tidy the house…need COFFEE!…get my cord, NO! NOT THAT CORD….my crutches….I’m thirsty… I just want to ________________” times a million. Hurry up and wait. I’m aging.

The most basic tasks have become tedious brain busters; complex and time consuming. I don’t give up. I have crawled, rolled, hopped and scooted for hours. On moving day my Fitbit registered 6.7 thousand steps on one foot. (clapping)

At moments I’m like a toddler who can’t move her blocks. I’m ramming a box furiously with my crutch and it’s not budging. I want to run away but I’m stuck so I fume and fuss and scream inside.
And I cry; a good cry or three or ten might help.
Tears in front of my friends, my children, my husband. Tears, tears, tears.
What’s wrong with Mama?
Help me, God.

Silence.
No one can rescue me.
No one can relieve the pressure inside and comfort me.
Venting brings relief, but then I feel guilty for ‘complaining.’

I’m not depressed. I’m hindered.
Activity is my personal drug of choice.
Serving is what I AM not just what I do.
I am being denied my SELF. My identity. My very wiring is being blocked.
I’M SHORTING OUT. LIKE AN ELECTRICAL IMPLOSION.
Poof.

“Oh, Denise, enjoy the rest, read a book!”
As if I’m in my home where everything is in its place. No. I’m sitting in the middle of chaos where my stuff is out of reach, still in boxes – in the vast unknown – in my storage unit across town.
My body may be ‘resting,’ but inside I chuurrn.

This temporary double break in my foundation is not without purpose.
Introspection.
Thinking. Asking hard questions inside my head. What is this about? What am I supposed to see and change that needs to be addressed? I don’t waste experiences. I need to know. Is this the proverbial winepress? Am I the grapes? Is this where all the good stuff comes out? Some good stuff next time.

Stay tuned... (Click here for Part 3 ‘From the Winepress’)

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