I turned 40 last month. I hope that’s a shock to you, thanks to my Mary Kay night serum…

Anyway, turning this outrageous number has made me much more reflective than I anticipated. When Matt and I walked onto our college campus a few weeks ago….it got even more intense, and I seriously felt like I was on a different planet. That chapter of my life seems like volumes and volumes ago. I found myself overwhelmed with wanting to be that girl again…..that college Lindsey; the one who lived side-by-side with the best friends she could imagine; the one who laughed too loud; the one who had so many dreams (well….and naps), so many plans, so much energy (after the naps). It’s such a monument in my mind, those years when I lived with all of these glorious people who had the same schedule, same life goals, same values, same routines, same meals, same church, same inside jokes, same wardrobe, same distain for music theory, same, same, same. We all sang together, ate together, shopped together, prayed together, movies, car pools, Chapel, library, dunkin donuts, speeding tickets, boyfriend break-ups, road trips…..a magical time of togetherness.

Needless to say, when Matt and I visited Trinity, it was insanely nostalgic. We have rarely been back there in the years since we’ve had kids…so like, a decade. Being there felt like I had momentarily risen above real life for a few hours. I was looking down at all that is my life in 2017. I was no longer in the trenches of motherhood and wifehood and adulthood….I was, for a short time, able to step back and consider the vast changes of the last 20 years. It made me wonder what I would tell 20-year-old-Lindsey if I could.

If I could sit down with her, what would I say? What on earth would I say to her? As I sit here, envying her life, what would she want to hear from me? Because I’m pretty sure, back then, all I wanted was to see how the chapters would unfold. I look back now, longing for her freedom, her carefree life. But 20 year old Lindsey was constantly wondering if she would get married, what career would she have, would she ever have kids, where would she live….

Do you know what I would tell her? I would tell her that all of her dreams came true. That she would marry the college boy that she was already falling in love with (and to stop fighting it)….that boy that gave her so much trouble (!) would love her so, so well. I would tell her that, by the grace of God, Matt would figure out his heart, and that she would too. She’d hear about how he is the most compassionate, faithful husband she could ever imagine. I’d tell her to forgive quickly and to not be so hard on him; to focus on the 100 amazing things she loves about him instead of the 3 things that annoyed her. (Why is this hard??) I would tell of his incredible dad-skillz; that he loves his kids SO, so much.

I would tell her about Cameron, who will fill her heart with the explosion of motherhood, who lights up the world with an unexplainable sweetness. I would tell her about Molly, who dances on rainbows and spreads glitter (and attitude) and joy and tenderness wherever she goes. I would tell her about Griffin, who, even with such a tender heart, is a leader of leaders (and who may never sleep in his own bed for the whole night), but who surely could be president one day. I would tell her that, as she dreams and hopes and prays, she needs to trust, breathe, relax. She can have absolute certainty that life, even in its storms, will be beautiful. Even in its mess, God will use it for good. He will swoop into life’s messes and do His thing where He is faithful and scandalously gracious. I wish I could tell her not to worry, to think more about the moment she is in, instead of missing it as she dreams of what’s to come. In that moment, she is becoming who she is. That moment, right there, is life. That moment will never come back.

And if she could talk to me, I think she’d share her wisdom too. Because she would be able to see that, while the togetherness of college life is a treasure, so is the togetherness of being with this precious family of mine; this family that is 100% irreplaceable. Eating together, shopping (don’t touch ANYTHING!), movies, church (sit still! don’t touch your brother!), inside jokes, homework (I have reminded you 4 times now….), bath time, dance parties (sprinkler, mockarena) , laughing, crying, loving…..these times are magic. These are my people. These intensely forgiving people who live under the same roof…..they see me at my worst, and they still love me. She’d tell me to wake up grateful, and to go to bed grateful, and to be grateful all in between.

20 year old Lindsey would tell me to cherish this chapter, this amazing chapter that I once dreamed of, hoped for, prayed for. Here it is. It’s real, it’s raw, it’s outrageously precious, and it’s slipping by.

I hope I can look back in 20 years and say that I loved this chapter with my whole heart; that I saw the treasure while it was right in front of me instead of missing it until it was only a memory; that I heard the whispers of God and that I quieted myself enough to see the miracles; that I didn’t spend most of my time dreaming of what was to come, but that I spent most of my time thanking God for each new day; that I looked for Him in the storms, and in the sunsets too; that I walked by faith and not by fear.

I fully admit my dependence on Him to help me navigate my wayward heart. May I be content in what He gives, and what He takes away.

“I could never home school. I don’t have the patience for it.”

People who home school their children are as familiar with this comment as they are with their facebook passwords.

When I home schooled my three hooligans, I heard this comment ALL. THE. TIME. And I would think to myself, I can’t imagine that my patience is so much greater than anyone else’s. But you know what? They were right. They DIDN’T have the patience for it. But they were also wrong, because what I’ve learned this year is that patience is a muscle. They could have developed the patience for it. Truly.

For the past year, we’ve been killing it on the public school scene, and as we are now enjoying our first 24 hours of Spring Break, I have noticed that my skills in patience are WEAK.

Weak, y’all. Like, lazy, spoiled and rotten.

When you spend hours and hours (and hours…so many hours) each day with your kids, your patience gets exercised over and over and over (and OVERRRR), (and over)….and, just like a muscle, it gets stronger.

So it’s not patience that makes a good home school parent, it’s being a home school parent that grows your patience. This is real, people. This is not a drill.

So here we are, experiencing our very first public-school-style Spring Break. We’re relaxing our little hearts out. And when I say relaxing, I mean fighting. #ofcourse

Fy. Ting.

It’s been less than 24 hours and we are driving each other CRA—ZY. My patience is embarrassingly small. And their ability to fight over things that DON’T MATTER….UGH! it’s impressive. (Did you know that the Penguins of Madagascar movie is DIFFERENT! FOR THE LOVE! than the original 3 Madagascar movies? Very different. It MATTERS!)

Last year, we were together all day, almost every day. But this year, I can feel how frail my patience has become because it just sits around all day. My patience takes long naps. She doesn’t get a huge workout everyday. She is UNFIT.

Public school is where our family is supposed to be right now….maybe I’ll blog about that soon. But one of the things that has suffered in the light of the changes this year is my dwindling patience. It’s definitely not as strong as it had become after 10 years of being with my kids for most of the day.

So the next time you meet a home school mom, instead of telling her how terrible your patience is….even though it’s probably true….say something like, “I admire the patience that you have developed by investing hours and hours of time with your children. You’re a patience ninja. I want to be like you. Here’s a Starbucks gift card.”

She earned it.

Many people don’t realize that when I walked down the aisle, there was no groom. There I was, on my wedding day. I had the dress, the veil, the hair, my handsome father giving me away, but no groom. The bridesmaids had walked the aisle, then the flower girl, all of the groomsmen…..no groom. No groom as I came down the aisle. The choir was singing amazingly gorgeous music, which distracted me from the fact that my groom was missing, UNTIL I reached the center of the sanctuary. All eyes were on me.

Some people didn’t even notice that the groom wasn’t there! (Now that’s an impressive choir.)

On the other hand, some people were panicking that the groom wasn’t there (understandable.) Watching the wedding video is interesting as people react in different ways to his absence.

When we reached the altar, the pastor asked, “Where’s Matt?”

My dad said, “He’ll be here.” (…no idea.)

There I was, a bride with no groom. The fanciest dress, looking like I had spent 4 hours getting ready (accurate.) I was alone, waiting.

The stage was set. A wedding was planned. Where was the groom…..

How was I feeling, you ask?

Truth: very calm & very curious.

I was excited to get married. I knew I was getting married. Even with no groom in sight, I knew he would be there, eventually. Never once did I wonder whether or not he was coming.

Why was I so confident?

I knew Matt.

I knew him.

I didn’t need to know anything else. I knew he loved me forever. I knew he’d be there. I knew that something unexpected must have held him up, some emergency, maybe. But I knew he was coming. My dad knew he was coming.

We stood there for a while……(insert beautiful choir still singing)…..

Some people know this story. They know how it ends. They know that in the midst of all of the wedding shenanigans, the wedding planner had forgotten (!) to get the groom and the ring bearer (she apologizes to this day every time I see her). Matt and Brody were off in a room waiting down the hall. Brody’s mom had noticed Matt was gone and ran to get them as soon as she realized what had happened. Because of her awesomeness, Matt made it to the altar before the choir had stopped singing. He came in, cool as a cucumber. He and the ring bearer walked in together, slow and steady….. it looked PLANNED, y’all! People complimented us afterwards on how unique it was. WHAT.

Here’s the deal with the gospel; it requires a bride and a groom.

Without the bride and the groom, there is no wedding. We, the Church, are the Bride, standing at the Altar. The stage is set. Christ, our Savior, is described as the Groom who is coming for us.

Take one of the two away, and you have dismantled the gospel.  If you take away the Bride, there is no Church. If you take away the Groom, there is no Savior.

As I was a bride waiting for her groom, the Church is a Bride waiting for her Savior. He will one day come back and usher her into the great banquet. Marriage is an amazing picture of God’s relationship with the Church. We are waiting for Him.

Some people might be panicked that Christ has not yet come. They wonder where He is.

Some people have not even noticed that the Groom is missing. They are distracted, not even aware of their need of Him.

But some people are calm, curious, excited to see Him. We know He will come because we know Him. We know He loves us forever. We know He is faithful. We cannot see Him now, but we long for him in expectation, filled with hope and promise.

Do you want to be a part of the great wedding feast? A part of God’s family? Do you want to be ushered into His glorious presence with love and forgiveness at the end of your days? Believe in this God who loves you so much. Put your faith in Jesus Christ. He is our great Savior, our beloved Groom. “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him, shall not perish but have eternal life. “John 3 :16

Come, Lord Jesus. We love You. May we stand for the gospel until Your return. We know how the story ends.

“I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.” Revelation 21:2

This month marks the first time in over 9 years that I haven’t had to buckle any children into their car seats. They can all do it on their own now. What?? It seems like a rite of passage, a graduation, a precious freedom for me. The first few times it happened, I had this big sense of relief. Is this happening? I can just get in the car and close the door and drive? Seemed like such a big deal (cartwheel).

This week I also sat by the side of the pool for the first time and read a book while all three of my kids were swimming independently. Instead of them holding on to me, calling out to me, depending on me, they were jumping off diving boards, swimming in the deep end and showing their “invisible friends” (not imaginary, invisible) how to kick “big splashes.” And I do love Jane Austen, and I love sitting in the sun and reading. But after a full chapter of trying to enjoy my freedom, I realized that I would rather be with them. What was this feeling?? I’d rather have them calling out to me. I’d rather have them needing me.

Just then, I looked up to see my four year old sweetheart running up to me to pull me back into the water, saving me from this terrible freedom. And my heart leapt for joy. I looked into his little face. I was grateful for this moment. I saw his little childhood flashing before my eyes….one day very soon, he will be at the diving boards with my two older kids, he will be swimming without me, he won’t need me by his side to watch his “big kicks.” But in this moment, he needs me. I spent the rest of my time in the water with this small human who will grow up and change the world before I can blink.

As the Summer of 2015 does its thing, I hope I can hold onto that moment; I realized there isn’t always as much joy in the freedom of being by myself as I think there will be. I love being by myself at Target as much as the next girl, but maybe that’s because I have 3 hooligans at home who will tackle me when I come through the door. It’s nice to be needed. As a home education family, there are few times when I am alone, just me, getting things done. So I find myself longing for these moments when I can do my own thing. But as I ponder my desire to not be needed so much, I have seen a glimpse of the emptiness that comes with that. It’s nice to be needed. Did I say that already? It’s also exhausting and hard and challenging to be needed. But it’s a chance to serve those whom I love most on this planet.

There is joy in serving, joy in hospitality, joy in giving. And as I reach for moments when I don’t have to serve, I see myself stepping away from this joy. May I seek God’s help in leaning into my responsibility to serve these hooligans who need me. May I not seek my own freedom over their need for me. What a precious time each day is with them. Their independence will come soon enough. But I want to treasure these opportunities to serve them, and in doing so find joy in giving.

In seeking to serve, we are following the example of Christ. He, who created all things, did not seek to be served, but to serve. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10:45

Acts 20:24 says, “However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.”

In seeking to find freedom from serving my family, I think I may be holding “my life” too tightly, holding my agenda too closely. May I not hold my life so firmly as not to want to serve my own family. May I seek to testify of God’s grace to them. As the primary task that God has put into my hands at this time of my life, may I seek first to glorify Him, to copy His example.

I am starting to realize that when these kids head off to college, get their first jobs, walk down the aisle, I will not be celebrating my independence. I will not be heading to Target or Starbucks with a bounce in my step. I will be treasuring the time that I had them under my roof, remembering bedtime stories and one more drink of water, longing for days at the pool with invisible friends and “Mom, watch me!”

Thank you Lord for tomorrow, for another day that I have to serve my family and show them how much I love them. And may they seek a life of serving others. And in doing so, they will glorify their Father in heaven.