JennieGScott.com

Author: Jennie Scott

  • How I Feel When You Won’t Put Away Your Phone

     

    Dear World,

    What have we allowed to happen to us?

    When did we collectively agree that our lives could be ruled by electronic rectangles, and why did we give the virtual world so much power over the real one?

    Why do we allow social media alerts to take precedence over the people we’re having dinner with, and why do we interrupt real-life conversations for those sent via text message?

    When did politeness give way to productivity, and why are special moments interrupted for selfies?

    What in the world have we allowed to happen to us?

    We’ve created a life where we can’t fully be with the people we’re with because we’re so concerned about what’s going on where we aren’t.

    We’ve become a generation of people who find our worth in likes and comments and who can’t fathom not posting every detail of our days. We’ve said it’s acceptable to have thousands of virtual friends and few real ones and to spend more time Snapchatting our acquaintances than speaking to our families.

    It’s insanity, world, and we can do better. We have to do better.

    The chemical dopamine is an interesting thing. It is released when we encounter a reward, prompting us to repeat the reward’s cause. This is why dopamine is often associated with gambling, drugs, and drinking alcohol. These activities bring pleasure, or a reward, and the body likes these rewards.

    Did you know that social media and cell phone alerts are rewards to our systems? We feel pleasure when someone sends us a text, likes our post, or comments on our picture. Dopamine floods our bloodstream, and our bodies ask for more. So we go back to social media and back to our cell phones to repeat the actions that released the dopamine.

    Just like we become addicted to gambling, drugs, and alcohol, we become addicted to the technology. We just don’t call it an addiction.

    Isn’t it ironic that we regulate gambling, drugs, and alcohol but grant ourselves (and in some cases, our children) full access to the dopamine-inducing technology that gives the same high?

    We’ve essentially said some addictions are socially acceptable but others aren’t.

    People who are addicted to their technology need a “hit” every few minutes, so they reach for the phone to feel pleasure’s reward. (Let’s not assume it’s only other people. We’ve all felt this temptation ourselves, haven’t we?). The dopamine flooding their systems is more important than the people in their presence. Addiction trumps relationship. A high is more necessary than a conversation.

    There is no greater insult to a relationship than not being fully mentally present when we are physically present. If I’m talking to my husband and realize his mind is somewhere else, it hurts. If I’m instructing my children and see they’re not paying attention, I’m annoyed. Their physical presence isn’t enough. I want – need – their mental presence, too.

    I’m afraid we’ve allowed our technology to take precedence over our people. 

    And here’s the rub. None of this will change unless we are intentional to change it. Technology will continue to rule our lives until we decide to live differently. If we want to prove to our loved ones that they matter more than our phones, we will have to choose every day to:

    • put our phones down, look people in the eye, and talk to them about something other than what we saw on Facebook
    • value what our real-life friends say more than what our online friends like
    • eat a meal without checking to see who’s messaged us
    • turn off our notifications to prevent them from being a distraction
    • live in the moment instead of posting about it

     

    Technology is not the enemy. Like so many things, it’s neutral, but our use of it determines its value. In these days when there’s always a new Tweet to read or a new Instagram picture to see, why don’t we choose the faces of our friends and the company of our families instead?

    People remember what we do, not what we say. They remember what we choose instead of them, what we value instead of them, and what we pay attention to instead of them.

    I don’t want it said of me that I always posted cute pictures or that I Tweeted funny quotes. Those things are not the mark of a well-lived life. I want to be present. I want to be intentional. I want to be honoring to those around me.

    Our culture has changed. It’s fast-paced, image driven, and obsessed with knowing what people are doing. But in the midst of this culture, we have a choice to make. We can be addicted to our technology, or we can be addicted to our real lives. But we cannot be both.

     

     

     

  • Fighting the Fear That Holds You Back

     

    There is a risk God has asked you to take, and there’s an excuse you’re giving for why you won’t move ahead.

    What is that risk? Will you give it a name and acknowledge its existence?

    Less than a year ago, God told me to quit my job. He didn’t speak in a booming voice, and there was no literal writing on the wall, but through a series of gut feelings and confirmations from others – including people I didn’t even know – I had no doubt about what he was saying.

    He was saying it was time for something new.

    And I was scared to death.

     

    The risk he was asking me to take was to quit my job and trust him, and the excuses I gave were varied and justifiable.

    What about money? What about the house we just bought? What about the fact that I know absolutely nothing about the path you’re pushing me down? What will people think? What about my lack of qualifications?

    Oh, I had a million excuses for not moving ahead, and even looking back now, they were legitimate and very pressing.

    But they were also rooted in fear.

    I knew what I was supposed to do. The wheels had been in motion for a few years, my passion for the new path building since childhood. The calling wasn’t the issue. My obedience was.

    I was scared, deep in my heart, that God wouldn’t provide for me like he did for others. I was scared that I was leaving a career I excelled in for a calling I might fail in. I was scared that my lack of credentials and connections were a recipe for disaster instead of an opportunity for God to show that he provides when there seems to be no way.

    My fears were begging me to stay frozen, to choose disobedience rooted in what my eyes could see rather than faith in what I could not.

    Fear is not always negative. We are right and justified to be afraid of physical dangers, and we were created to experience fear in order to be protected. Fear certainly can protect. But it can also prevent.

    It can prevent you from experiencing all the things you can’t imagine that God has planned for you (1 Cor. 2:9).

    It can prevent you from grasping how wide and long and high and deep Christ’s love is for you (Eph. 3:18).

    It can prevent you from doing the good works God planned in advance for you (Eph. 2:10).

    When we say “but” when God says “act,” we forfeit the great rewards that only come with great risks. We live in less than what God desires, choosing our own version of safety rather than God’s grand adventure.

    Repeatedly in Scripture, God tells his people not to be afraid. What I love, though, is that he doesn’t just tell us to reject fear. He also tells us how and why. He reminds us that He is always with us. He has redeemed us. He will never leave us. He cares for us. He has given us a new spirit. He will come to our rescue. He will sustain us. He will never let us fall. He is our strength.

    Every admonition not to fear is coupled with a reality of who God is and how He loves us.

    Nothing comes more naturally than fearing what we don’t know. But God tells us to choose the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). He asks us to reject the emotions we naturally feel and rest in the promises of truth He has revealed.

    What is the risk He has asked you to take? What is the fear that’s holding you back?

    I won’t be the bossy blogger telling you what to do. I don’t know your situation or the reservations you feel.

    But I will be the woman who’s walked this path before, simply saying to you, “It’s worth it.”

     

     

  • Some Thoughts for America’s Public School Teachers

     

    What a strange, complicated, divisive few days these have been.

    The inauguration of our new President has brought out strong emotions in virtually everyone I know, and the internet has shown me the opinions of those I’ve never met.

    I never want to contribute to the negative noise so present online, and I’m praying these words will provide hope in the midst of these times. I’m praying my words will ease the sting of words directed to you, public school teacher, and that my words will serve as a reminder that words matter, words can hurt, and though the words of others may be loud, they can still be untrue.

    It was said to our country that ours is “an education system flush with cash, but which leaves our young and beautiful students deprived of all knowledge.”

    When I heard these words spoken by a very powerful man, my eyes filled with tears. A deep sadness overtook me for what you heard and what is believed about you. Then an abiding anger made me shake and made me want to shout the truth from the rooftops.

    Although I am not currently a teacher, I am only months removed from that sacred occupation, and I know what you do and where your heart is. I know how hard you work and with what little reward. I know how disrespected you are and how negativity abounds. I know, public school teacher. I know the truth.

    I know that every day you walk into a building lacking some of the resources you need for the great needs of your students. Whether your district is rich or poor, large or small, there are needs you are ill-equipped to meet simply because you are only one in the midst of many. Your students come to you with lifetimes of struggles, problems, and situations you know nothing of, and you are expected to make them all achieve at high levels of growth (or is it proficiency?) by the end of their times with you. You are only one, but you are expected to be enough.

    I know that you spend great sums of your own money to buy novels and crayons, pillows and lamps. I know that your paycheck and your budget stretch as far as you can make them, and I know that you pile Kleenex and hand sanitizer into your cart at the grocery store. I know that the system flush with cash still isn’t enough for all you’re expected to do. I know.

    I know that you – every single day – do all you can to impart great knowledge into your students. I know that you take great pride in lessons that reach all intelligences and engage all learning styles. I know that when something doesn’t seem to be working, you reconsider and go back to square one. I know that you work all year long to prepare your students for the next test, the next assessment, the next grade, and the future. I know that knowledge is your aim, and I know that students leave your classroom with more than they came with on day one. I know that your students don’t leave you deprived of all knowledge. I know.

    I know that you take it personally when your students struggle. I’ve seen you when you cry. I’ve heard you when you feel hopeless. I’ve seen you go back and try again. I know that giving up isn’t in your character. I know that, public school teacher. I know.

    I know that you spend hours at home working to plan better, grade more, and increase engagement. I know that your home life is affected by your school life, and I know that your students are constantly in the back of your mind. I know that teachers aren’t only working when their bodies are in the school building.

    I know that respect for what you do is decreasing. I know that you hear the trash-talking from people who are uninvolved. I know that powerful people who have never worked in public schools or attended public schools or parented children in public schools are the ones demeaning your very profession and taking the reins over your careers. I know.

    I know that you care deeply for what you do and for who your children become. I know that you work tirelessly and often without thanks, and I know that excellence is your aim. Oh, how I know.

    Public school teacher, you matter. Your career matters. Your dedication to creating a well-educated, thoughtful, responsible, literate, discerning, positive country matters now more than ever. You are in a noble profession, and because of the way our world is changing, you will now have to be brave. You will have to be unwavering. You will have to reject the negativity. You will have to ignore the ignorant and educate the young. You will have to keep on keeping on when you feel like you just can’t. You will have to define success for yourself and for your children when unreasonable measures of success are imposed on you both. You will have to stand up for what is right and good when no one is standing up for you.

    You will have to do all these things, and you can. You can because you’re a teacher. And if there’s anything I learned about teachers in my years in public schools, it’s that they can do the impossible. They can do what must be done because they know the magnitude of what’s at stake.

    Teachers can do the impossible.

    You can do the impossible.

    You can, and you will.

    I just know it.

     

  • Friday Five – Quotes That Made Me Pause

     

    Since I’m a word person, I love finding quotes that speak truth in just a few words. Here are some that have spoken to me recently:

  • When God’s Timing Tests Your Trust

     

    My cell phone rang, and when I glanced at the caller, immediately my heart began to pound. The illuminated screen showed the caller was the school district I had just interviewed with, so the news would be either very good or very bad.

    Either they wanted me or they didn’t. This call would tell the tale.

    I needed a job, and I needed it badly. Years before, I had taught 7th grade English full-time, but when my children were born, I left work to mother them full-time. I loved every minute of being home with them, but my impending divorce and new status as a single mother demanded a paying job. And it demanded it now.

    I picked up the phone and squeaked out a “Hello” through my quivering voice. The principal I had just spent time with spoke, thanking me for my interest in their teaching position. Then he spoke the word “But,” and I knew I wasn’t their choice.

    He kindly explained they had chosen a candidate with more experience, and he wished me luck in the future.

    I managed to disconnect the call before I burst into tears. Then I wept uncontrollably.

    The previous eight weeks had been the most excruciating of my life, filled with rejection at a level I had never experienced before. I had learned what it meant to start life completely over, and I felt the burden of rebuilding what once felt unshakeable.

    And for the first time, I knew how it felt to be at a complete loss with what God was doing in my life. In my core, I knew he was in control, and I still believed he was good, but I didn’t understand how, and I couldn’t see why. Each day was a test of my faith, each moment a lesson in hope.

    I had prepared for this job interview, prayed for the right answers, and proven my determination to give the job my all.

    So to hear it wasn’t enough was devastating. To know time was running out was terrifying. And to have nowhere to go next was debilitating.

    I was rejected, again, and my heart was completely shattered. It felt that at every turn I wasn’t someone’s choice. I didn’t just feel it – the evidence was in my face.

    The despair and helplessness I felt that day sent me to my knees.

    I was completely at the mercy of the God I professed to believe, and trusting that his timing would eventually bring provision was harder than I can explain.

    What do we do when God’s timing seems off? What do we believe when we have a pressing need but his answer is, “Not yet?” How can we believe that provision will come even when we see no signs?

    In that moment, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to turn. I didn’t know that God was working in ways I couldn’t see.

    And that’s usually how it works, isn’t it? We look with our human eyes at our human situations and determine the outcome the way we humans would design it. We look at human calendars and feel the pressure of human needs and are unable to remember God doesn’t work in human ways. He is not limited by human timelines.

    Trusting God’s timing means trusting God himself. Waiting for his action means believing he’s on your side.

    Those weeks waiting for a job in the middle of my divorce tested everything I said I believed. Continuing to trust in God’s goodness was a choice I had to make, and believing his ways would eventually bring good demanded that I look beyond the current pain.

    The easy faith of my childhood was giving way to a faith tested in the flames, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there were days I thought I’d be consumed.

    But now, years removed, this is what I’ve learned, and this is what I know.

    God’s goodness always comes.

    He always provides.

    Trust placed in him will never disappoint.

    Hearing “no” from that principal was, in the moment, another rejection to my already tender spirit. It was a denial, a wound, a very crushing blow.

    But weeks later, I was offered a job 20 minutes closer to home and in the district my children would be attending. Suddenly the previous “no” felt like protection and provision. Suddenly I realized my timeline hadn’t allowed for God’s perfect plan to unfold. Suddenly I was humbled to understand God had been working on my behalf all along.

    Nothing tests your trust like waiting for God to move. But nothing reaffirms it like the moment when He does.

    Whatever waiting period you are in right now, I know it’s painful. I know you might be like I was, on your knees with tears pouring down, begging God to give you the thing you desperately need.

    He hears you.

    He will provide.

    But He will do it in the moment He deems best.

    As his child – his follower – you are charged with trusting him until then. You are asked to believe good is coming despite the bad that you see. You are commanded to be still and know that He is God.

    When we have a problem, we want it fixed immediately and with the solution we devise.

    But God wants our heart.

    We want an answer.

    God wants our trust.

    We want to know the plan.

    God wants our faith.

    If I have learned anything through my seasons of waiting, it is that I am amazingly impatient and God is unbelievably good. Always. His timing tests my faith, to be sure, and his ways confound my understanding, but his faithfulness takes my breath.

    Always.

     

  • Friday Five – Memes That Made Me LOL

     

    People on the ol’ internet are so clever, y’all. Whenever I see a hilarious meme, I marvel and think, “How did they come up with that?” Clearly, I don’t excel in the humor department, so I just appreciate it from afar.

    Here are five memes that made me LOL. Literally – I chuckled audibly.

    hhahahhahaaaaaaaaaaaa:

    My brain at night:

    -follow the queen for more poppin' pins @kjvouge✨❤️-:

    Funny Pictures Of The Day – 35 Pics:

    And finally, my personal favorite:

    Funny Pictures Of The Day – 31 Pics:

    Gotta love them! Enjoy your weekend!

  • We Aren’t Preparing Our Kids to be Adults

     

    At 36, my childhood feels like it was a zillion years ago.

    I remember playing in the creek with other neighborhood kids for hours at a time, heading home only when darkness enveloped the skies, and I remember the hours I spent playing with my Barbies. My childhood included lots of time outdoors, lots of time reading, and lots of fights with my sisters over the bathroom we shared.

    The world of the 1980s was drastically different from the world around us today, and when I compare my life then with kids’ lives now, there are more differences than I can count.

    I can’t help but wonder how different the world will be when my children are adults.

    If I’m honest, it scares me half to death.

    I don’t want to look back with rose-colored glasses at my childhood and pretend the world had no problems then. Certainly it did. There were actual wars and a cold one, drugs on the streets and blatant discrimination. I remember a hurricane destroying part of my state and a space shuttle exploding before our eyes.

    People’s lives were hard, and the problems they faced then hurt just like the problems we face now.

    But the world feels more complicated now, doesn’t it? It seems that there are different struggles, and I know there are temptations in forms kids have never seen. Being a kid in 2017 is not like being a kid in 1987, and parenting kids now can’t look exactly like it did then.

    One temptation we parents face today is the desire to make our kids’ lives problem-free. We want our children to live lives of ease, so our flesh wants to do the following:

    • Prevent them from having problems by micro-managing every detail of their lives.
    • Remind them (OK, nag them) not to forget things instead of allowing natural consequences for irresponsibility.
    • Step in when we see a difficulty rather than watch them struggle to get through it.
    • Let them be just like their peers so there are no problems fitting in, but sacrifice our beliefs and convictions in the process.

     

    I know these temptations because I face them as a mother. It’s hard to see your children struggle, and it is excruciating to see them wrestle with a problem you know how to solve.

    But if we step in before they face hardship, and if we interfere rather than let them wrestle with life, we fail as parents. Why? Because our task is to prepare them for adulthood, not just protect them in childhood. 

    I fear our children’s lives are going to be much harder than the ones we are preparing them to face.

    For many of us, we are preparing children for the kinds of lives where:

    • they are the center of attention
    • they receive what they want simply by asking
    • they do not contribute to a household by doing chores
    • their problems are eliminated by parents who complain to the authorities over them
    • their extra-curriculars come before their work and worship
    • they spend others’ money rather than work for their own
    • their lives consist of entertainment in any form
    • they are protected from ever experiencing boredom

     

    When I stop and truly assess whether my decisions today are preparing my children for tomorrow, I am convicted. I am challenged. I am determined to make some changes.

    Should childhood be fun? Absolutely. But should it be only fun? No way.

    Childhood should sometimes be hard. Sometimes boring. Sometimes hard work.

    Childhood should sometimes be about learning to sacrifice self rather than indulge it. Childhood should be about learning to face a world that isn’t all about you. It should be about seeing problems around you and asking how you can solve them instead of just complain about them.

    Childhood should be the training ground for adulthood, and I fear too many of us parents are keeping our heads in the sand about how hard our kids’ lives will one day be. I fear we focus on making now enjoyable rather than the future productive.

    When I was a child, I had no idea of the difficulties ahead in my future. I never imagined myself facing divorce and single motherhood, never thought I’d struggle to find a job to provide for my family, and never thought I’d struggle with post-partum depression. I could not have known the deep hurts I would face, the sharp betrayals I’d feel, or the great challenges I’d endure.

    I didn’t know how hard adulthood would be.

    Do you feel this way, too? Looking back at your life, what did you not see coming, and what could you not have imagined ever enduring?

    I know there’s something because nobody’s life is perfect, and everybody’s life contains struggles.

    Including our children’s. 

    While they’re in our care, under our training and love, should’t we do everything we can to build them into people ready to face whatever comes? Shouldn’t we be the ones to help them face disappointment, learn responsibility when its lack won’t devastate them, and prepare them to wade through the inevitable hurts?

    If we protect them from every problem now, we create more problems for them long-term.

    It seems counter-intuitive, but allowing them to flounder and fail as children will build them into successful adults. Denying them all their desires now will set them up to chase their God-given desires later. Helping them through hurts now will help them face greater hurts later.

    We can’t assume our children will be protected as adults like they are as children in our homes. We can’t pretend everyone will love and cater to them, and we can’t tell ourselves they won’t be hurt like we have been.

    They will be heartbroken. They will be betrayed. They will face gut-wrenching devastation.

    Life on earth hurts. It hurts sometimes for us, and it will hurt sometimes for our children.

    Let’s prepare them as much as we can to face their hurt with hope, resolve, and a knowledge that they can get through it – because they’ve done it before.

     

     

  • Friday Five – Books I Want to Read

     

    Each Friday, I’ll be writing a short post sharing five (and only five!) ideas with you. Today is one of my favorite topics – books! (This post contains affiliate links, which help pay for this site and its content.)

    Here are five I want to read this year:

    1. Water from My Heart by Charles Martin. I just finished another of Martin’s books, When Crickets Cry, and I LOVED it. I don’t know how I haven’t read him before! I discovered When Crickets Cry when Kindle had ebooks on sale over Christmas break. I paid just a couple of bucks for it, and I could not stop reading it. I stayed up past midnight and almost woke my husband up with my sobs. I won’t ruin it in case you want to read it, but good grief. SO. GOOD. Water from My Heart has a half-star higher rating on Amazon than When Crickets Cry, so I can’t wait to read it!
    2. Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike by Phil Knight. This might seem like an odd choice for me, but I love reading stories of people who been successful in their field, and I can’t think of a better example than the creator of Nike! This book has a 5 star rating. Andre Agassi said about it, “I’ve worn the gear, with pride, but I didn’t realize the remarkable saga of innovation and survival and triumph that stood behind every swoosh.” I think this is true for all of us!
    3. The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk. This topic interests me greatly because I’ve experienced an emotional trauma, and I’ve had to fight my way to healing and restoration. What I know is from my own experience, but I’d love to hear an expert’s take on the effects of trauma.
    4. Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly. This is fiction, and it takes place during WWII. I have had an obsession with WWII historical fiction since I taught 7th grade and focused on Holocaust literature. I am always blown away by the stories based on truth from the time, and this book is inspired by a true story.
    5. The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Last year, I learned more than I ever had about what it means (and takes) to live for Christ’s kingdom instead of yourself, and I have thought so much lately about how few sacrifices Christians in America must make for our faith. I don’t wish hardship or persecution on any of us, but I wonder if our faith is weak because it is easy. This book speaks to the necessity of personal sacrifice, and I believe it will challenge me in my walk. It might be difficult to hear, but I think it’s necessary for me.

     

    Let me know if you’ve read any of these or have other suggestions!

  • My Hopes (Not Resolutions!) for 2017

     

    We are now a few days into the new year, and I’ve let the resolutions craze pass. I didn’t come up with a list of 20 drastic changes I want to make in this year, and I didn’t decide to overhaul my entire lifestyle in one fell swoop.

    I’ve done that in the past, and I’ve always ended up feeling defeated and frustrated.

    Instead, I’m easing into the new, praying about how I’d like to be different, and asking God to tweak me to be more useful to him.

    That’s it.

    Sure, I have goals I’d love to see materialize in 2017, and certainly I have habits I want to change, but I’m not falling for the lie that 2017 must be different in every way from 2016. I’m not going to pretend that I have to be a completely different person because it’s a new year. I didn’t expect to wake up on January 1st and be transformed.

    A thought that occurred to me as the calendar changed is that while we humans place enormous significance on a new year, God is not limited by our earthly calendar. Our years are days to him, and the stroke of midnight changes nothing about him or his work in our lives. Transformation isn’t just available as one year turns to another. January 1st is not the only day for a fresh start. Remembering these facts took a lot of pressure off my perfectionist spirit, and I was relieved.

    My greatest goal is to let this year be what God wants it to be, not force it to be what I envision. To this end, I have some hopes for 2017:

    • to memorize more Scripture than I ever have. I made a plan, bought some supplies, and have some accountability partners, so I’m optimistic I will internalize and forever carry more of God’s word in my heart.
    • to run more miles and clock faster times this year. I love to run, and I always say it’s my free therapy. It’s when my mind can relax and open itself to creativity, so while there is certainly a physical benefit, there’s a greater mental one. That’s what I’m looking forward to the most.
    • to chase the dreams God has set in my heart unapologetically and without playing the comparison game. Last year I quit my teaching job to pursue writing, and it has exceeded my expectations. But I have become discouraged so many times by looking at other writers and assuming I need to be like them. This year, I am praying for focus on my calling and my daily tasks. I want blinders to all that doesn’t help with these.
    • to enjoy my children and husband more. My kids are 10 and 11 now, and I keep thinking about the day they leave my house. It’s not that far in the future, and I don’t want to look back and wish I spent more time enjoying them. They are fun, funny people, and while they’re definitely children in need of training, they’re also people whose company I enjoy.
    • to make a greater impact for God’s kingdom. I have learned so much in the past year about living as a kingdom person, and my new knowledge has challenged my choices. I want this to be a year where I deliberately pursue the things of God above the things of this world.

     

    Resolutions are easy to make and hard to keep. That’s why gyms are empty in March. But hopes placed in God’s hands have a much better return, and I’m handing him my hopes for this year.

     

    Are you interested in free printable verses to pray for the new year? Click here to sign up, and they’ll be sent to your email inbox!

  • Kiss Your Spouse and Gross Out Your Kids

     

    My daughter hates it when my husband kisses me. Or hugs me. Or dances with me in the kitchen.

    She huffs in exasperation and always tries to climb between us, saying, “No! My Mommy!”

    She pushes us apart, rolling her eyes, and is completely disgusted by our physical affection.

    We think it’s hilarious. (So naturally we do it on purpose and make sure she’s watching.)

    I hope it’s always like this, with her trying to weasel her way between us as we snuggle and pretending to vomit when we kiss. I’m not sure there’s much more I want her to remember from her childhood than that the adults in her house loved each other greatly.

    My daughter is a child of divorce, and I worry so much about how it will affect her. She was small when it happened, and she and her brother have been incredibly resilient so far. She doesn’t remember much from when her dad and I were married, but she’s going to remember everything about her stepdad and me. So we’re doing all we can to make her memories good ones – including grossing her out when we kiss.

    I didn’t grow up in a demonstrably affectionate family, and I want my kids to know physical affection. I hug and kiss them, tousle their hair, and scratch my son’s back every night as we pray. I count the freckles on their cheeks and give them five as they walk by, and I tickle them when I get the chance. My daughter still sits in my lap (though she’s getting too heavy), and the kids see my husband hold my hand.

    I want my children to know that love is an action, not just a word, and that when we love there is always visible evidence. I want them to feel security in the relationships they see, and I want them to grow up never doubting love filled their home. I want them to understand that their stepdad and I aren’t just parents raising them, but we’re partners who love each other deeply, too. I want them to see an example of a man who’s unashamed to show his love, and thankfully they’re seeing that in our home.

    Does my daughter get grossed out? Yep. Do I silently giggle when she does?

    Every day.

    We are not a perfect family, and I’m definitely not a perfect mom. But we love each other fiercely, and love covers a multitude of wrongs.