Sitting at her table, our hands wrapped around steaming cups of coffee, her story (shared here with full permission and approval) tumbled out.

Their son, a truly sweet kid, had been giving her and her husband a serious run for their parenting money - especially during the past 12 months.

His independent streak is a mile wide, and they were having epic parent/child clashes over matters large and small - all ultimately boiling down to topics revolving around independence and freedom.

They'd tried all sorts of parenting strategies, with neither rewards nor punishments ultimately reaching the underlying issue.

She found herself scraped emotionally raw and particularly vulnerable when issues of parenting comparison were raised, even innocently, by others. She began comparing every other child in their best public moments to her child in his secret worst moments and then counted herself a failure as a mother. 


It was the repeated gentle suggestions of a friend that finally had her picking up the phone and dialing the number of a recommended therapist - just for an informational interview, no promises she would consider anything further.

The therapist returned the call late one evening, and my friend, gripping the phone in her hand as she dashed out of the busy family room with dad and kids, locked herself in the bedroom and began a conversation that changed her life.

After a few thoughtful questions, the therapist began explaining the three primary personalities types found in bright children:

Affirmation children. These are the kids teachers and parents love because they are eager to please, eager to do what is asked, and eager to earn love through pats on the back and verbal kudos. These kids make parenting look easy, and this type of child was the perfect description of this woman's husband as a kid. Their weakness? The Nazi SS ranks were filled with grown up affirmation kids whose need for affirmation overcame their ability to stand against authority when it turned evil.

Social Interaction children. These kids have to be in the midst of the action. They hate being alone and desire to be with friends, family, and everyone else. These kids will do anything you want, as long as they get to be with people. My friend immediately recognized herself in that description - her childhood was spent surrounded by friends from an early age and that pattern had lasted into adulthood. She is vivacious; a woman who makes friends easily and keeps them forever.  The downside to these kids? Gangs and organized crime are filled with adults who were social interaction children and whose desire to belong is stronger than their ability to say no.

And the last, the therapist explained, are the Internally Motivated children. These are the kids who want to decide, from the earliest age, their own path and make their own decisions. They are the most difficult to parent because their motivation comes from internal sources, not external influences. Handled too harshly, these kids turn further inward and rebellious. Handled too gently, they go off the rails and get into serious trouble.

My friend, tears streaming down, whispered into the phone: "That is my son, perfectly summed up."

And the therapist responded, "Can I tell you the best thing about the internally motivated children? These are the adults who transported slaves along the underground railroad to freedom in the North. These are the adults who hid Jews in Nazi Germany at the risk of their own lives. These are the adults who will stand firm for righteousness and will not be swayed by public opinion. They are the hardest children to raise, and yet they are the children who will change the world."

The therapist said lots of other wise words that night, but it was the promise of world-changing potential spoken over her sweet, darling, oh-so-independent child that my friend has clung to in the days and weeks since that conversation.

And it isn't that she believes her son will be famous or "big" in his world-changing. So often, world-changing starts with small acts in quiet spaces. It requires courage and bravery and allowing God to be bigger than our scared little hearts.

It was that my friend finally caught a glimpse of the hope and the future that God has planned for the internally motivated son that he has given to an affirmation father and a social interaction mother to raise. She realized that her greatest legacy might very well reside in that 9 year old's body - and that, raised well, her son might do more wold-changing that his mother and father ever dreamed of doing.

And while not easy, her perspective has shifted and she has been reminded that God stands with us on this parenting journey. He knew, before our children were first placed our arms through birth or adoption, that they would be ours. He knew their strengths and weaknesses, just as He knows ours.

Friends, we do not parent alone. And, believe it or not, He will equip us to parent these crazy, sweet, independent little creatures in ways that exceed our skill sets, if we let Him.

- Julie, Kendra, and Kristin

“We are NEVER getting a dog.”

I knew immediately that I shouldn’t have read it. The headline caught my eye, and a simple click had dragged me into a Pandora’s Box I wished I hadn’t opened.

I can't believe we're already halfway through December! If you've been following along over on our Facebook page, you know we've been doing daily acts of kindness during the Christmas season. I think it's especially important this year, when the world sometimes feels like such a dismal place -- with stories of racism, refugees in crisis, political polarization and more, it can feel like hope and joy are hard to find. In fact, Kendra, Julie and I decided early on this month that we'd like to help refugees for our Advent Acts of Kindness finale. That's why I was beyond thrilled when my friend Samantha approached us with the opportunity to help in a very specific, tangible way. We're joining with her in her efforts to provide kerosene for displaced folks living in Iraq, whom she recently visited. I'll let her explain the rest:  

Aiden and I

“In Sinjar, we have pool,” he shared as we walked up the rugged road to the mission’s main house at dusk. “My friends, me would jump off the top of the house to the pool. Very beautiful. I miss it.”

My companion on this walk was a 9-year-old boy I’ll call Aiden I’d gotten to know over the previous week. We were coming from his house--or rather, the structure where he and his family had been living for the past 15 months. Though considered comfortable for the refugees in the village (i.e. a metal door, window covering on two windows, and cement floors), his current dwelling was far from the home he spoke of.

The temperatures were dropping quickly. We could see our breath and shivered as we hurried along. The forecast called for rain and low temps the next several days. I had found that when it rained there, it poured. Cold in Iraq was different from the Minnesota winters I was used to; though the temps outdoors were similar, there was a vast divide between the comfort of my Minnesotan home and an Iraqi village lacking electricity and warmth.

Happy Monday, friends! In our past three years of blogging, we've met a number of amazing women with similar visions and passions. We're thrilled to feature one of those sweet friends today, the amazing Amy L. Sullivan, who is talking about five principles to help guide our daughters AND we're giving away a copy of her NEW book! (details below...)

“The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone of the structure.” Mark 12:10

We had some work done in our garden last week; nothing too exciting: a new fence, a bit of pruning, and a bit of levelling off of the ground. Our garden is quite small so every part of it is precious and much needed! We have three daughters, including a very inquisitive preschooler who loves investigating outdoors, so we were thrilled when the work was done and the limited space in our garden was maximised.

As the guys were finishing off, they were levelling the ground and discovered a BIG stone in the
ground. They were really surprised at its size, and it took the two of them to move it onto a level surface to investigate it. After a bit of debate and cleaning off, they decided it was a “cornerstone,” probably from the house next door, which used to be a manor. (Just to clarify, we do not live in a manor of any kind! Our house is messy, well-loved, used, run through with an the array of crunched up potato crisps on the sofa, paint spillages, dirty clothes and everything else that goes with a house of three girls!) The guys surmised that it probably would have been part of a wall at one time, bordering our house. The shape of it and the way it had been chiselled certainly seemed to fit with the description of a cornerstone. It was covered in dirt but, at the same time, it was beautiful.

Last night as I was getting dinner ready my 19 month old toddled in to the kitchen from outside where she’d been playing with her older siblings, grinning from ear to ear with dirt smudged all across her mouth.

I paused for a moment, deciding what to do, shrugged, and kept making supper as an, oh well, thought fluttered through my mind.

To read the rest of my post, just click here.






And if you are in need or some more encouragement for your mothering, check out our new book, Grace for the Imperfect Mom, a daily devotional written from moms who know what it means to need a little grace.