🎢 Together: Presence, not pressure.

Year of Breath: Breathing through the rollercoaster of family summers.

This week, we took our kids on a small family vacation a few hours north to the Twin Cities. We did things like visiting the zoo, going to a baseball game, and riding about 700 rollercoasters. There were multiple times when I had this recurring realization: There are no grown-ups here but us. We are the grown-ups.

Suddenly, this trip felt like a lot of pressure.

We’ve all heard the stressful (and unfair) “You only get 18 summers with your kids!” but I recently heard another statistic from 1000 Hours Outside:

There is a significant developmental shift that happens during childhood around age 12 (occasionally earlier) and with that often comes a change in family dynamics. Summers begin to have a different look and then eventually parents and siblings become more of a background object, a less integral piece of the puzzle. In fact, 75% of the time we spend with our kids in our lifetime will be spent by age 12.

Whoa. My kids are between the ages of 8-13, so this hit hard.

It got me thinking: I want to be the kind of parent — the kind of person — that my kids will (eventually, hopefully) want to be around as they become adults.

I know teens and young adults spread their wings, and that’s a good thing, but I also hope that the hours I’m putting into raising them now will create connections that will grow and evolve and change of course, but will last a lifetime. I want my kids to look back and see how I showed up in the world, how I loved, what I created, and where I spent my time…and feel like they were raised in love with compassion and care by parents who were (and are) compassionate and caring.

I write this in Every Season Sacred:

Our check-ins may adapt and evolve, but the intentional connection points still punctuate our days. They’re threads connecting us, parent to child, child to parent. All kids need connection points with safe, loving people.

As parents, it’s our honor, privilege, and joy to be that for our families. One of my sons prefers sending me ridiculous emojis and funny messages from his tablet. I see you. Another’s hand finds mine as the sky turns to dusk and we put away the last of the dinner dishes. I believe in you. My daughter, who is disabled and doesn’t speak, brings her hand to my cheek. You’re doing great.

These tiny moments of seeing and being seen are the ties that bind us together. As parents, we often feel pressure to perform on the big occasions and milestones, with lavish holiday celebrations or picture-perfect vacations. But relationship is sewn together in the tiny moments: the wave at the school pickup line, the unexpected hug in the kitchen, the nod before leaving with friends.

Just as we make space for these moments with our children in the bits and pieces of our real life, God makes space for us too. This is prayer: check-ins from child to Parent, connecting in the comings and goings of our lives.

Taking road trips with kids isn’t easy. There is a literal cost and sometimes a physical, mental, and emotional cost as well.

But as the sun was beginning to set and we walked toward the theme park’s exit, sweaty, tired, and slightly motion-sick, I saw a little magic, too.

I had this sense of seeing the memory through my kids’ eyes.

Do they have perfect parents? Absolutely not.

But we were together, sewing memories into the patchwork quilt of our family’s life.

In the Summer introduction to Every Season Sacred, I share this:

How often I’ve prayed for these summer days—for the cold isolation of winter to melt away into summer’s welcoming warmth. Yet now that I have what I’ve prayed for, I find myself listless. The air-conditioning unit shakes under the pressure, and I’m caught in a midsummer panic: Have I done enough? Have I made the most of these fleeting months? Why do I keep losing my temper?

Summer is slipping away like leftover sand from a beach bag. I see an article floating around about “only having eighteen summers with your kids,” and it sends me down a mild midsummer spiral. I wonder if I’ve wasted everything. Backyard tomato plants break free from their cages, bursting forth and rejoicing in the humidity and heat. The leafy vines climb higher than our kids, giving us fat, round fruit we’ll slice on toast and share with our neighbors. Jonny collects cucumbers in an old box, and I think we should make pickles, and then remember I know nothing about pickling.

It’s the hottest stretch of the year. We situate ourselves in front of fans, waiting for the fever to break. The heat wave has made us slow. The unstructured mornings amble into lazy afternoons. I reach for popsicles for the kids and linger in front of the freezer’s icy chill.

We haven’t given our family a multi-week vacation out of state. We don’t have a lake house to while away our weekends.

Maybe you’ve looked around on social media and felt like you were missing out on something or depriving your family somehow. Or maybe you scrimped and saved for a dream vacation only to have it rain the whole time while your family argued.

As adults, we know that sometimes our dreams don’t align with reality. We teach our children that you don’t always get what you want. The flip side is that sometimes when you do get what you want, it’s not what you expected.

Summer offers us a chance to slow down, forcing us to answer the uncomfortable question, What will we do with our days when they grow longer and lighter?

Summer invites us to notice—to be outside in the fresh air and feel the prickle of sweat on our skin, the sweetness of a strawberry melting on our tongue. We can take notice of the stubborn lilies that sprout among the weeds in the back alley. We can be like children, lost in the wonder of a butterfly’s wings, charmed by a melted sorbet sunset.

Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash

A Prayer for Leaving on Vacation

This is taken from a larger prayer on page 17 of my book To Light Their Way.

As we prepare for this vacation,

Release us from the baggage

Of grown-up worries,

And let us linger in the fun

Of a getaway together,

For we know it is less about

Where we go

And more about who we’re with.

Breath Prayer

This week, take a moment to breathe. The pressures of parenting and the desire to make every moment perfect can feel overwhelming, but in the midst of it all, we can find peace and gratitude.

May these breath prayers help you connect with the One who knit your family together.

As you inhale and exhale, ask the Spirit to help you embrace the beauty in both the small and significant moments of the rest of summer.

The rest of this edition of Year of Breath is for paid subscribers. Below, you’ll find breath prayers, reflection prompts, a weekly playlist, benediction, and phone wallpaper. I hope this provides an exhale in your busy days. (This mom of four thanks you for supporting her work!)