Advent Inspiration

Having edited books, a magazine, and a website, I've learned the quirks of the timelines of each media type.

When I edited Ministry Matters, we had to be useful to pastors in their planning for various seasons and events of the church year. So, we kicked off our Advent content with a "Christmas in July" week to help pastors planning their sermons, worship, and outreach efforts for the following November and December.

When I edited Circuit Rider, a quarterly magazine for United Methodist leaders, each issue went to prepress about 6-8 weeks before it arrived in mailboxes, and work on the issue began months before that. So, the issue pastors might read as Advent draws close was on my brain way back in the spring.

Book publishing takes a lot longer. This is surprising for a lot of first time authors, I find. They spend six months or a year (or more, depending on the book) working on a book and are disheartened to hear that it will likely be almost another year before it hits the bookshelves (or the preorders are finally shipped, as the case may be in this online age). So with 9-12 months' gap between manuscript and release, I was working on Advent books way back in . . . the previous Advent!

Yes, this long timeline actually worked out nicely in that last year I had the pleasure of working on Advent books actually DURING Advent! Rather than the dissociative state of writing "plan your summer mission trip" at Christmastime, I got to sit by the tree as I edited, wrote, and compiled essays, prayers, and biblical reflections about incarnation, messianic hopes, preparing for Jesus' coming, and the kingdom of God.

It was a special thing, and now (a year later) I get to share those amazing Advent books with YOU to inspire you THIS Advent . . . which starts in only ten days--whoops!--better order fast!

Every Valley: Advent with the Scriptures of Handel's Messiah

If you love Handel's Messiah, love Christmas music, or love anybody who's into sacred music, this book is a gem. It has forty reflections (good, theological stuff--not just fluff) exploring the scriptures that make up the libretto of Handel's Messiah. From "Comfort ye, comfort ye" (Isaiah 40:1-5) to "Amen" (Revelation 5:14) and every "behold" and "hallelujah" along the way, these essays from a variety of pastors and theologians dig into the meaning behind every Bible passage in the oratorio. Good for a daily Advent devotional, reading by the tree, or gifting to your favorite choir director.

Feasting on the Word Advent Companion

This one is for the pastor in your life (or, knowing a lot of our friends, YOU!) Part of WJK's popular "Feasting on the Word" line of preaching and worship resources, this one offers ideas and tools for Advent and Christmas. Planned thematically (not by the lectionary) this book includes sermon-prep Bible commentaries and complete worship services for the four Sundays of Advent, four midweek services, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

It's a bit late to use for this year's Advent (unless you're a last-minute kind of guy or gal) but maybe for next year. Plus, there is also a Feasting on the Word Lenten Companion for your Lent and Easter planning!

Who'd You Come With? #TBTstories

Throwback Thursday Stories is a new link-up series being hosted on The Mom Creative. I've been itching to write—really write—since attending the Festival of Faith and Writing last week at Calvin College. And this story is the one itching to come out.

This week: Spring 1993. I was 11.

Middle school haunts many of us, I imagine. But there's a particular moment that haunts me more frequently than others, because the very emotion of that interaction washes over me every time I go to a conference for work, like last week's Calvin Festival. I've been traveling a lot since getting back into book acquisitions last fall, and these events where my goal is to mix and mingle and meet potential authors are an introvert's nightmare.

Beyond the feeling of "please get me away from all these people and back to the isolation of my hotel room!" is the feeling of social awkwardness that plagues me. And a single moment from a sixth grade skating party replays in my mind as I navigate those crowds of strangers.

"Who'd you come with?"

This question was posed to me by a cooler classmate as we hung around the perimeter of our local rollerskating rink, Champs Rollerdrome. The walls were lined with carpet to ease the pain of impact for less skilled skaters, and above the carpeted portion were oversized pennants featuring the names of many area middle schools. (Champs knew its role as a "safe" drop-off spot for preteens who longed to socialize away from parents' watchful eyes.) I don't remember if our school was featured on one of those neon pennants, but I know there was one with the name of the private school to which I would transfer a blessed sixteen months later—a smaller school, at which a quiet, dorky girl like me could still end up as class president and editor of the yearbook.

My 8th birthday party at Champs. Amazingly, my experiences there could get more awkward than that super-eighties crimped side ponytail.

It was a birthday party for two or three classmates, one of whom I'd been in Brownies with years before and saw fit to invite me even though my place on the social ladder of sixth grade society was a few rungs below her, and even further below her co-birthday-girls.

"Who'd you come with?" another girl asked me.

"Jenny invited me," I said.

"No, who'd you ride here with?"

"My parents brought me," I said, suddenly realizing that apparently it wasn't enough to be included on a guest list. If you really fit in, you would have met up with other friends beforehand and been dropped off together by one kid's parent.

Who makes these rules?

My sense of awkwardness and not-belonging reached a whole new level after that conversation. What a strange society that sees making out on a carpeted bench by a carpeted wall, surrounded by staring classmates (as one girl and boy did, later in the party) less a source of oddity than arriving alone to the party? (I can still picture that girl, with her permed, dirty-blond hair, opening her eyes to see the circle of gawkers while she sucked face with that boy.)

Silly as it is, that question, "Who'd you come with?" runs on repeat in my head whenever 32-year-old, professional me navigates the down time between plenaries and breakout sessions at any conference where pastors, Christian writers, angsty ex-fundamentalists—anyone who might make a good author for us—gather. People walk and chat in groups of two or three, and I wonder if I'm the only one who came to the conference alone. Probably not, but could be. Pastors have colleagues that benefit from the same continuing ed events they do. Maybe they caravan and carpool to the convention center or church hosting the conference. Last week's Festival of Faith and Writing draws many non-professional writers and avid readers, friends who make a getaway of coming to hear poetry readings and insights for getting that novel you've secretly been working on for twenty years out of the drawer and into the hands of an editor who doesn't care that you don't have a platform. (Platform doesn't matter as much in fiction, after all.)

Anne Lamott delivered one of the plenaries last week, and referred to a "toxic self-consciousness" from which many of us suffer, comparing our insides to everyone else's outsides. She called out the two uninvited voices in her head: one that says "You're so much better than everyone else," and the other that says "You are a total loser." (After all, self-consciousness is a double-edged sword. Insecurity and superiority are not mutually exclusive.) Her advice was to acknowledge those unwanted guests and move on with a simple, "Thank you for sharing." Those voices don't need to be considered the truth.

"You look so cute today in your new dress, Jessica. You're so much more put-together than that lady in her mom jeans and fanny pack."

"Thank you for sharing. The Gap outlet clearance rack has some good finds, and I'm sure that lady is comfortable and well-equipped."

"You look hopelessly awkward standing there, twiddling your thumbs, waiting to talk to that speaker. Everybody must be thinking what a dork you are."

"Thank you for sharing. I'm doing my job, and there's a long line. Everybody else is probably more worried about what people are thinking of them than about whether I have self-confidence and an active social life."


I fake confidence and even extroversion fairly well, people tell me. But inside, I'm not too much different than that awkward sixth-grade girl being informed of yet another thing to feel awkward about.

"Who'd you come with?"

Just the voices in my head. But don't worry. I'm learning how to shut them up.

Stranded

Matt and I always say we're glad we moved to Clarksville a year before having Kate. (The phrase "glad we moved to Clarksville" is practically unheard of in our house, and applies only in the context I'm about to explain.) What we mean is, after our years in Nashville, where we went out frequently in the evenings with Div School friends, enjoying pub trivia and "Two-fer Tuesdays" at the Red Door, 18 months of nights by ourselves at home playing board games and watching Netflix movies helped ease us into the more sedate lifestyle of parenthood.

Occasionally, when we're out on a rare mommy & daddy date night, I'll glance at the young professionals gathering at the bar and think, "ah, wouldn't it be fun to hang out at the after-work watering hole with other yuppies?"

I'm up in Louisville right now for work. I recently took a new job doing acquisitions for Westminster John Knox Press. So, I'll be up here for a few days each month. This being my hometown, my parents are glad, and sometimes I'll even bring a child or two or three! Claire is with me this time, hanging with my mom right now, and I couldn't wait to get back to her after a day in the office.

Then the car wouldn't start. And my cell phone battery is dead (as usual). And my boss' battery couldn't jump it. And my parents' AAA won't cover me even though it's their car that is dead.

So, here I am, holed up in a pub across the street from the office while I wait for my dad to come rescue me. I'm drinking chardonnay and intending to do some editing work on a freelance project. The dark bar makes the computer's glow on my face all that more annoying, I imagine, to the young, water-holing professionals trying to blow off the day's stress around me. I tried the pub next door, but found it already full. This place was practically empty when I came in, but not so anymore. It's everyone's second choice, I guess. I feel like an oddball, but with enough confidence to deal with it. I caught a guy staring. . . and then spotting my wedding rings.

Here I am, in the bar after work, and I just want to be home with my baby.

WMW: The Freelance Fairy

I wish I could give credit where credit is due, but I can't remember where I first read about "the Freelance Fairy." It was in some book or blog written by a freelance writer, talking about the unpredictability of income when one works freelance.

It's true—you can't anticipate when new jobs are going to come in, or when exactly the payment for those jobs will arrive. The fabled Freelance Fairy was the sprite who brought in new work or a check in the mail whenever the writer was running low on cash.

When I prepared to leave my full-time job in January, Matt and I were prepared for the changes this new career move would bring for our income and our expenses (boo for higher health insurance rates, yay for using less gas!) But it's been interesting to adjust to the differences between being salaried and being freelance.

The most essential difference is just how directly work = money. On salary, you might have a really busy week that requires long hours, or you might be taking a week's vacation, but your paycheck still comes at the same time and for the same amount. As a freelancer, the more work you do, the more money you make. Period.

So if I wake up at 2 a.m. and can't get back to sleep, the thought, "well, might as well make some money," can legitimately enter my head, and I'll get up and do a couple hours' work, until I feel sleepy again. (I sleep pretty well, even with a four-year-old snuggled so close to me it feels like she's trying to crawl right into my skin, so that doesn't happen often.) One could do that as a salaried employee, but it wouldn't equate to a bigger paycheck, just maybe a lighter to-do list the next day.

I've been fortunate to continue doing a lot for my former employer, and being able to submit hours on a weekly basis, so I can count on having some income each week, as well as some steady work that always needs doing. Bigger projects that pay one flat fee are more the milieu of the Freelance Fairy, and pop up when you least expect them. I have had a constant string of big deadlines from May through, well, today (if I can knock this last bit out tonight!) but very little on the radar for the fall.

I'm excited about this for the moment, since Matt and I have a little getaway planned for the two of us and I'm looking forward to a light August, where I can ease up the pace just a little bit and do some writing. But given that more work = more money now, I have two competing fears going into my "light month": One, that a big, short-deadline job will come my way in the next couple weeks and I'll be tempted to take it even though I've really been needing and looking forward to this deadline-free time. And Two, that it won't. Or rather, that it won't come even after I've enjoyed my little vacation. What if my light fall stays light?

Given how suddenly the Freelance Fairy swoops in, and how she dive-bombed me repeatedly this spring, such that I've been in intense on-deadline mode for essentially three months straight, I feel pretty confident that she'll do some fly-bys in the coming months, but you never know. That's part of the challenge of this new adventure, and I'm loving every minute.

WMW: The Voice Recorder

I decided in college that I was an aural learner—that is, that I learned best from listening. I preferred hearing it in a lecture to reading it from a book. Maybe it was the note-taking I enjoyed most. Anyway, for certain
classes I developed a habit before tests of reading my notes aloud to a tape recorder (remember those things?) then listening to myself read the notes aloud while driving in my car or getting ready in my room.

I got to relive that aural, multitasking fun a couple weeks ago for work. It's an editorial consulting-type gig, for which I listened to about twelve hours of a woman dictating the story of her past few years, and brainstorming the angle and organization she should take in writing her memoir.

I have to say, those twelve hours (of paying work!) were awesome, because I could multitask. I did things I always want to do but don't because I'm usually staring at my computer! I took a long walk. I ate lunch on the back porch. I worked while driving to pick the kids up. I scrubbed the baseboards in our kitchen!

It was great. And now that it's over, and I need to type up a proposal for this lovely would-be memoir-writer (and do all my other computer-based work) I'm kinda bummed. And I keep trying to think of ways to incorporate more of this paid-listening activity into my work. I'm coming up empty, though.

I could edit spoken sermons, rather than written ones...? That's kind of what I do when I give feedback on Matt's sermons... Any ideas?

WMW: Lists and Time-Tracking

A friend recently asked me for tips on getting better organized at work. I don't have a lot of super-fancy tricks or tips—my main thing is just being a compulsive list-maker. I have a master checklist for my work to-dos each week, with sub-checkboxes if there are numerous parts under one main task. For example, editing a book, I might make a sub-list of all the chapters, so that I can mark them off as I go. (That's part organization and part motivation—checking off a to-do is a proven endorphin boost, so the more small tasks you can get on that list, the more frequently you get to check one off! I'm like a productivity junkie.)

One "fancier" tool I did tell my friend about, however, was Yast.com, an online time tracker. It has become absolutely essential to my work life. I heard about it in the fall in a Forbes article listing several "must-try" online organizational tools. I tried a couple of them, but Yast is the only one I've found to be a must-use.

I actually started using it when I was full-time at my old job, just to track how long I was spending on certain tasks each day (a very educational exercise, I must say). And now that I'm a freelancer, billing some jobs by the hour, it is even more important to know how long I spend on each job.

You add your projects, grouped under higher categories if you desire, and give a color code to each one. I pixelated the names of my projects above, but you can see the two main categories, "UMPH Work" (my long-time employer for which I still do a good bit of work) and "Other Paid Work." Below that, I also have a "Personal" category for things like blogging, VBS-planning, etc.

To start the time on a certain project, you just click the blue arrow, and it starts running with that project's color on the timeline at the top and showing you the time next to the orange square on the line. On the above screen cap, for example, I'd been working for 24 minutes on my "orange" job. At the end of the line, you can see the day's total for that job (2 hrs, 20 min) and the week's total (6 hours, 40 min).

It's nice to know, at the end of the day or week, how long you've worked and on what. Yast tracks your time by the day and the week, and you can view reports of any time period (SO useful when turning in a time sheet or invoice!)

Whether you're tracking paid work by the client or project, or just want to know how long you're spending each day on various parts of your job or various other activities like email and blogging, I really recommend this tool.

WMW: Home Office

I got my new Thirty-One organizer hung up, so I thought it might be about time to share my lovely little home office, where most of my WAHMing takes place. (Does that make this a Working Mom Wednesday or Show and Tell? Both, I guess!)

One of the neat things about our house is the little room off of our master bedroom with glass French doors. It makes a great office and craft room, and would make a great nursery as well, if you wanted to keep a baby close for the first year or two. From the time we moved in, it housed an old desk that was my grandfather's. It had been used in a war office during WWII, and he bought it cheap after the war. It's a typewriter desk, with a platform that raises and lowers to hide the typewriter away inside when you're not using it. (My uncle has the typewriter from it.)

So between the desk, Matt's green banker's lamp, my plant and framed degrees, my office has a nice, homey feel. My new organizer helps me get papers, folders, and my ubiquitous legal pads off the floor (since the desk doesn't have a lot of spare surface space). I hung a legal pad over the calendar strap, stuck my file folders in the clear pocket, book catalogs in another pocket, and put some pictures on display. I wrote a favorite quote on the wipe-off board, a line from a Dixie Chicks' song: "If there's ever an answer, it's more love." I really feel like that's a good rule of thumb when you are stuck in any way. (What to do? Well, what's the more loving response?)

The printer just sits on an afghan-covered box, and Matt's old CD tower is getting more use than it has in years, just supporting the stack of review copies I put on top of it. And for a window treatment, I used a string of Tibetan prayer flags our brother and sister-in-law brought us from Mt. Everest.

Then there's my amazing craft area, which my in-laws created for me as a birthday present last year. I previously just had a rolling kitchen cart, but they got a cabinet to sit a yard or so from the cart and a tabletop to lay across them both, more than tripling my work space. My mother-in-law made the skirt that velcros around the table, hiding the storage cart and cabinet underneath. (The space between is the secret spot I stash gifts as I buy them throughout the year.) On Friday afternoons, when I finish work for the week, I close down the computer and move just two feet to my left to do some scrapbooking before the brood comes home!

The side of the room I'm not showing you has all my gift-wrapping supplies, several cheap bookcases full of books and random stuff. In every home we have, there is a room that never fully gets unpacked, where boxes sit for years. In this house, the office was it, though I cleaned most of that up and out when I went freelance and it became my main office, but the bookcases still have a lot of college memorabilia and other stuff we've had since our single days.

Where do you stash all your old junk? Where do you do your work, crafts, or other computering?

WMW: Phone v. Email

As I was making my recent job transition and rewriting the automatic signature for my work email, the thought crossed my mind to include a phone number. I'd always listed one because it was an office number and a pretty standard signature to include mailing address, email, and phone number (and, once upon a time not so long ago, fax).

But when faced with the options of including either my cell number or home landline number (which I don't have memorized and is mainly used by my mother and telemarketers), I really didn't want to put either. And then I realized that there's no one implying I should, and that if I didn't, I could be FREE!

You see, I hate the phone. For family and close friends, fine. But for unsolicited business conversation? No way. The thought of leaving my old office with no forwarding telephone number, and thus, no random strangers with bizarre questions (like "where does the guy who wrote that third letter to the editor you printed live?") calling me was too good to pass up.

I'm just not big on small talk and don't like getting trapped by people who want to tell you their life story. Plus, I don't like being put on the spot to give an answer. Chances are, the answer is "I'll need to look into that and get back to you," anyway. "Could I get your email address?"

I like to be able to think about my response, check my facts, articulate things well. It's why I'm a writer and editor and not a speaker or political pundit. It's a classic introvert quality. And in this day and age, when the written word is as close and quick as a phone call, I think email is a considerate way to let people respond at their convenience (which is why I only call a business contact if they are way past deadline and not responding to emails over a week-long period. Somebody's about to get one of those tomorrow. . . dum dum DUM!) It feels like just about anything that needs discussing can be done via email, with no garbled words, dropped calls, or misunderstandings resulting from the lack of a written copy of the conversation. And most things are done via email, making those pesky phone calls all the more out of place in an efficient workplace. (Some companies are even encouraging IM for intra-office discussions, rather than the phone or email.)

So during my first week working from home, I enjoyed my blessed solitude, emailing with potential writers for an upcoming issue of Circuit Rider, content that if the phone rang, it would probably be Matt, my mom, or a telemarketer (or DCS!) and not a random stranger putting me on the spot or talking my ear off.

It was maybe my second day using my phone-numberless email signature that I got the reply, "I think I can meet that deadline. Could you call me to discuss things further?" 

Sigh. Alas, I can't escape the phone altogether, but I can try.

What about you? Do you prefer email or phone? Or texting? Or maybe IM? Personally, IM gives me flashbacks to my freshman year of college, but maybe it's your thing! 

The Return of Working Mom Wednesday

If you've been reading this blog for a few years, you may recall a little weekly feature called Working Mom Wednesday. You can read those and all posts on working motherhood here.

In light of my recent shift from WOHM to WAHM and the changes in schedule, environment, and mindset that shift entails, I've been thinking more about a variety of working mom issues and felt compelled to revive Working Mom Wednesday. (And to make a new button for it :0)

The awkward part of talking about "working motherhood" is the implication that stay-at-home-moms don't work. NOT SO. If "work" is defined as the use of energy (is that right, physics people?) I undoubtedly expend more energy per hour when I'm with my kids than when I'm alone at a desk. It is HARD WORK to care for young kids for their entire waking hours. I have absolutely nothing but the highest praise for SAHMs. So please never see me denigrating moms whose work is childcare- and home-based. (And in the same vein, I hope SAHMs won't accuse me or any mom who works for pay of not caring about her children or "letting other people raise them." That's insulting and untrue.)

All that said, let me restart the series by sharing just a few observations on my first week and a half of freelancing from "the home office."

• To clarify, since many people have asked: No, the kids aren't staying home with me now that I'm working from home. They are still in day care/preschool five days a week, and foster children we are privileged to parent will also go to school during the day. I spend the bulk of my day in the office/craft room off our bedroom, doing much of the same work I used to do from an office downtown, and working on growing a client base.
• I love the flexibility of this new arrangement, which was the main reason for the change in the first place. I can make the girls' dentist appointments in the middle of the day if I need to, be home for the plumber to come, or whatever else needs doing. When I need a break from the computer, I can put a load of laundry in; and rather than battling traffic at the end of the day, I can be getting dinner started.
• I am the consummate introvert. I knew this before, and evidenced it whenever I returned to my office after a long meeting saying, "Ah, the blessed isolation of my cube!" And that isolation was only an illusion, since my wonderful coworkers were barely more than a whisper away. I crave alone time and don't mind having the house entirely to myself for up to eight hours a day.
• I love my home office. My desk is a WWII-era piece my grandfather had. It has a panel on top you can lift to reveal and raise up a typewriter stored within. (My uncle has the typewriter, though.) Charlotte loves to hang out with me while I'm working, sometimes sitting right on the desk. I have to close the door when I'm not in there, though, because she will eat my plants. (I brought them back from the dead by taking them to my office about five years ago, and now they're back in her sights.) 
• I don't always stay home, though. I'm enjoying working at Panera or Starbucks for a few hours at a time some days. (I love Starbucks, but Panera is my preferred place because you can drink endless refills of coffee for only $2.99.) I also go into the office for a weekly meeting, and have church and other activities, so I'm not totally cut off from humans outside my family :0)
• I do miss standing up to work. It was a growing trend at my office, and I joined in on the "stand-up desk revolution" a few months ago, when I felt like I was always stretching and squirming in my chair. My muscles felt tight and I could never get comfortable. Standing (or sitting on a bar-height chair, as I often did) was great. Now that I've been sitting most of the time to work again, I find myself stretching and straining a lot. The kitchen counter and my craft table aren't quite high enough to stand, but barstools both places do help!

I hope you'll offer me some insight by leaving a comment answering any of the following questions:

1. If you are a parent, what is your employment story? Did you stop working when you had kids? Did you or do you plan to work outside the home again at some point? Do you work from home?
2. What topics would you want to see addressed in a Working Mom Wednesday post?
3. Would you like to write a guest post for the series? I would love to share some other people's tips and insights, so please pitch me your ideas!

Year of Discernment

My new year’s resolution for 2012 was not so much a specific task as a guiding word: Discipline. 

I was just starting back to work after maternity leave, and knew that life was about to get crazy, with two kids to get out the door in the morning, nursing, pumping, full-time work outside the home, lots of church activities and other stuff in the evenings . . . And, Type A that I am, my natural response to stress is to organize. I made lists of the things we would all need to have for each day (lunch, backpacks, bottles, pump, etc.) and I wrote out some ways to cultivate more discipline in myself. 

The guiding principle behind this discipline initiative could be summed up in this line from a prayer Matt says every Sunday before he preaches: “Lord, make us masters of ourselves, that we may be the servants of others.” 

To effectively parent my kids and manage our home life, I would need to feel in control of myself. I listed out things like setting out my clothes the night before, having our bags packed and ready by the door the night before (minus the perishable milk, of course), keeping the house straightened up, and getting up at 5 or 5:30 so I could get a jumpstart on showering and dressing before the kids got up. All these things would help me feel more in control, and thus less stressed, and thus less likely to get crazy and snap at my husband and kids. 

My success was varied. Definitely less than 50%. The very first day back to work went perfectly, but I soon discovered that my kids don’t wake on a perfectly-timed schedule, and that it is very, very hard to get out of bed without hitting snooze a million times if you’ve been up 1, 2, or even 3 times in the night with a hungry baby. The days I successfully rose before 6 reminded me how much better my morning feels when I’ve had the discipline that gives me the freedom to relax a bit. (Interesting how that works.) But I was still inconsistent. Self-discipline eludes me. 

My year of discipline was debateable.

What I really had was a year of discernment. 

From the time I started back at work after maternity leave in January, something felt different. I started rethinking my goals and priorities. As I spent more diligent time in prayer during Lent (mid-February to mid-April) I started to have a strong feeling of being prepared for something, being prepared to let go of my previous work path. I started wondering if maybe some new job opportunity was going to come my way and God was preparing me for that shift. I have loved the company I’ve worked for for 8 ½ years—my whole adult life, essentially—but I had a sense something new was brewing; I just hadn’t been filled in on the details yet.

The sage advice of a former boss kept coming to mind: "You will continue to excel at what you want. So know what you want."

As Easter passed, I felt frustration that whatever I was being emotionally/spiritually "prepared" for had not materialized within the six-week span of Lent. Then in May and June, unrelated in my mind to those preparation feelings of Lent, I started feeling strongly that it was time to act on our long-pondered interest in foster care. I felt a profound sense of calling and we chose as a family to follow it. Matt and I started PATH class, our seven-week training course, in July, and did all our paperwork and initial interviews throughout August and September. 

As the approval process continued, we bought a crib for our guest room, traded in my car for a minivan that could carry our little family plus three more "guests," when necessary. 

We were preparing for a big change ahead, but it was still an ongoing process of how our life was being guided and reshaped. The very first question I'd asked the social worker when I called to express our interest way back in June was "We're a two-career household, both working outside the home—is that okay?" She assured me that it is more than okay, that they want their foster families to be as secure financially as possible, so that they are not viewing care as a source of income. And we would discover that there are many single women who foster, so of course they have careers. 

But as our education in the system grew, I really began to wonder how we would logistically manage the many needs of children in care. Being a working mom is one thing—you find a good day care, develop a good family routine for kids' activities, adapting for the occasional doctor's appointment or sick day. The sudden, unexpected addition of another child with unique needs would bring different challenges. If we get that infamous 2 a.m. call from Child Protective Services, and are up for the rest of the night awaiting the child's arrival and getting him or her settled, how do we manage getting the child enrolled in their new kindergarten or whatnot the next day when we are both expected in our offices? How do we juggle the child's court dates and parental visitation appointments, the scheduling of which may be largely out of our control? And then all this for another child a few weeks or months later?

The theoretical answer would be to determine which of us has less-urgent things to do at the office (oh, how I love those discussions when Kate or Claire is sick! not) then call and notify coworkers, and in my case, take a vacation day or apply for FMLA leave. (Yes, the same law that ensures maternity leave also applies to adoption and foster placements—but imagine negotiating that human resources stuff when you're already busy with a foster child's legal logistics.) Matt's job as a pastor has typically been more flexible than mine, as an editor with a publishing house, working on-site in the office, so it more often falls to him to take sick kids to the doctor and all that—something I already regret with my own kids, as I want to be able to be there for them in times like that—and with foster care being primarily my calling, supported by Matt (just as I support his calling to vocational ministry), I would hate for foster kids' mid-workday needs to fall to him as well.

I love my work. I love being a work-outside-the-home mom (a WOHM). We could not afford for me to be a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) even if I wanted to be. But my need for more flexibility became clearer and clearer as our approval process continued, so I started conversations with my boss about work arrangements that might allow me the increased flexibility I will need as a foster mom. Fortunately, working for a church-related organization, I've noticed people to be very understanding and supportive of colleagues following God's call. So, we discussed various options over the course of the fall, and finally, somewhere around the time we were officially approved as foster parents on Nov. 30, we determined that I would resign my full-time, salaried position and instead take projects on a contract basis. 

So, I will be "going freelance" in the new year, working from home (being a WAHM, or work-at-home mom), continuing to edit Circuit Rider and to contribute to Ministry Matters, and pursuing other projects and clients as I can! My last day in the office is this Friday, Jan. 4. I've already been missing the fun office banter with my colleagues while I've been on vacation this past week, but nonetheless, I'm very excited about the prospect of running my own schedule, working from anywhere, taking on a wide variety of editorial and writing projects, and having a better work-family balance. 

We're still awaiting that call about a child who needs us (I'm rather surprised we didn't get one before Christmas, since family drama puts many children into care around the holidays), and when we do, I'll be able to do what's needed to care for that child while a permanent situation is found for him or her, be more available and less stressed for my two precious "forever children," and still use my skills and talents professionally. It's been a year of discernment. A very good year that has shaped our lives and grown my faith. I feel joyfully confident as we move into 2013.

12 on 12-12-12

Last year we had 11-11-11, and I linked up with Dear Lizzy to share what I was doing at 11:11 on that day. This year, Elizabeth has been doing a "12 on 12" series, sharing twelve pictures from her day on the twelfth of every month, and though it seems she wasn't even thinking about the triple fun of 12-12-12, I decided to snap twelve pics on 12-12-12 for a little "day in the life" post.

I didn't take any during our crazy-rushed morning time, or after returning home at night (finally! we have something going on every night this week) so my day was pretty much divided into two parts: work and church.

Part One: Work

1. My colleagues and I broke out the Christmas decorations a few days ago, which mainly consist of a bunch of wreaths and a skinny little tree (see item 4). I love having some festivity in the office.

2.  I spent part of my morning reviewing the designer's proofs for the next issue of Circuit Rider. Gotta get to pre-press before everybody takes off for their Christmas holidays!

3. I joined the "stand up desk" revolution that is popular now in our company. So, lots of us have these desktop platforms to raise our computers up so we stand while working. Better for circulation, energy, etc.

4. Our little Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the coffee cube. It's decorated with a string of paper clips and a paper star made of yellow Post-It notes.

5. My new obsession is Yast.com, an online time tracker. I can start and stop the timers on my main projects and see how much time I'm spending on various tasks. It also keeps me from flitting around between tasks, because I know the clock is running on a certain project.

6. Ministry Matters editorial meeting. We all have the same ceramic and silicon coffee mug.

 

Part Two: Church

7. Wednesday night dinner this week was spaghetti. Kate ate two helpings. I put the non-messy elements in front of Claire to eat herself, but she screamed because she only wanted the meat sauce, which I fed her myself off my plate!

8. and 9. Cutie Claire eating an eclair.

10. Claire kept busy during Bible study by playing with both Matt's and my phones and the TV remote, juggling between all of them, tapping the screens and putting them to her ear in turn. "Ala?" She looked like a silly character in a movie, answering a bunch of phones at once.

11. Our study right now is A Different Kind of Christmas, based on Mike Slaughter's book, Christmas Is Not Your Birthday, which I edited. I love Mike's stuff!

12. Choir practice. Wednesdays are a long night, with choir starting at the time we're usually getting the girls in their jammies! Our Christmas cantata is this Sunday morning, so this was a can't-miss rehearsal!

Speaking of which, if you're in the Nashville area, join us for worship at 10:00 Sunday morning at Arlington UMC, or at 5:00 that evening for The Road, our casual evening worship (with free dinner!)

On Christian Celebrity

I got a copy of this book recently—Embracing Obscurity: Becoming Nothing In Light of God's Everything. I was immediately fascinated because it was written anonymously! A book from a major publisher (Broadman-Holman, the Southern Baptist imprint) with a major marketing campaign around it (ironic, in a way) . . . and NO BIG NAME to help promote it. That's kind of the point, but in this day when you have to have a platform to even get published, I was simply intrigued. It tapped into things I'd been thinking about and personally wrestling with, so I wrote the following for Ministry Matters.
__________________________________________

In college, there was a group I thought of as “the elite Christian crew.” They were the cool kids active in the bigger campus ministries at our formerly-Baptist liberal arts college. The guys wore Birkenstocks or flip-flops and some had longish hair and maybe a goatee. They were trying to look like Jesus, I hypothesized, with their sandals and suburban-hippie vibe.

They were great people, as far as I was aware, serious about their faith, and genuine in their desire to bring others into the fold. But they were still kind of a clique, and I wondered to myself at the irony of “popular Christians.” Among the general strata of "big men" and "big women" on campus, some were very religious and others weren’t; it wasn’t really the concept of Christians being well-known or holding campus leadership positions that seemed odd, but the idea that among the community of faith there would be a cream-of-the-crop that others couldn’t seem to touch seemed out of place for followers of someone as humble and egalitarian as Jesus.

Fast forward ten years and I work in “the biz.” Not Hollywood, not country music, but the religion biz. Christian media. And there is another elite Christian crew. There are celebrity pastors and mega-bloggers, and all those worship leaders and other cool kids still recovering from last week’s Catalyst conference. These days, it can feel as if “success” in ministry depends not just on love of God, love of people, and the ability to help those people connect to that God—but on coolness. On celebrity.

It can feel like the people who are really making a difference must be those with the overflowing auditoriums for all three Sunday morning services, or those whose books are hitting bestseller lists and being discussed in small groups nationwide, those with thousands of Twitter followers and Facebook fans.

Comparing ourselves to these “celebrity Christians” can spark feelings of inadequacy, defensiveness, resentment, cynicism, and misplaced ambition. They rear their ugly (green, monster-ish?) heads when we compare blog readership, worship attendance numbers, relative hipness of our worship style or personal fashion, compliments after the service, or even something as simple as “likes” on a Facebook status.

I was struck by the following confession I recently read in a book:

“I had taken pride in getting responses to witty things I’d post or compliments from long-lost acquaintances about my beautiful family or my relative 'success' in life.”

Reminds me of that tree falling in the woods. If something interesting happens to us and we don’t announce it on Facebook, did it really happen? Or worse, if we announce that interesting thing but no one else seems to find it interesting, was it really interesting? It’s no longer just my mother giving feedback on every element of my life and influencing my self-esteem—it’s 400 virtual acquaintances.

It’s easier than ever for our self-worth to be determined externally, and we find ourselves craving and chasing after the affirmation of people we don’t really even know.

Read the rest on Ministry Matters

Most of What I Know about God, I've Learned from My Children

Most any theological reflections I write are based on something that being a parent has shown me about our heavenly parent. It's true on this blog, but it's also true in the writing I do for work, on Ministry Matters, a website for church leaders. And that's nice, because I can use pics of Kate and Claire rather than purchasing new stock photos to illustrate our articles.

Did you know that 99% of stock photos related to religion are of somebody in a field raising their hands above their head? I'm only slightly exaggerating.

That's why Claire is currently front and center on my author page over at Ministry Matters.

Other things I've written recently include blog posts about the best sermon on sin I've ever heard and my debate over leaving out the scary last couple verses from the passage I preached on a few weeks ago (and the resulting sermon on parenting as an act of stewardship).

There's also an article about a rite of passage experience for boys, which I thought would be like something out of Mark Driscoll's church, but was actually pretty cool. And an article about how my blog friend Kim's hubby formed a unique partnership through which to plant a great new church in Lexington, Ky.

If you or someone you know is in ministry in any way—preaching, teaching Sunday school, shaking hands at the door, heading up a mission trip, or whatever!—I hope you'll share Ministry Matters with them.

And the rest of you can scroll through my previous articles to spot my kids among the smiling stock-photo kids!

Working Mom Wednesday: Workaholic

Throughout my childhood, my father would leave for work even before I got up, and would return home promptly at 7pm for dinner. Then he would work on the computer for a while longer in the evenings. I don't know if that counts as bonafide workaholism (my mom would say it does) but I know my dad swells with pride whenever I display similar behaviors.

I don't work extra-long hours or anything, but I do fetishize productivity--my self-esteem rises and falls on it every day. I'll work from home in the evenings, sometimes, but I can't focus as well at home. When the "official" end of the workday rolls around (what my colleague and I call "yabba dabba doo time," after our boss commented on how so many people in the company are out of there right at quittin' time that "It's like the opening scene of the Flintstones!") I often wonder "where did the day go?" I worked all day and yet there are more things on my to-do list at the end of the day than there were at the beginning, and I barely made a dent. Still, I usually leave within 30 minutes after yabba dabba doo time because I want to get home to Kate.

I think about how, before she was born, I would stay late almost every day, and despite the hour-long commute, it didn't bother me. But now, that evening time is precious, and as the aphorism says, "at the end of one's life, no one says 'I wish I'd worked more.'"

Matt has been out of town the last few days, and my mom suggested that they take Kate back to Louisville with them after her b-day weekend for those few days. Now, I am more than capable of taking care of Kate without Daddy's help (as awesome as he is) but of course Mom, like all the grandparents, craves as much Kate-time as possible. I don't think she expected me to agree to this plan, but with the website launching in just a few weeks, it's an extra-busy time at work, and a few days of staying late to get more done at the office kind of appealed to me.

Monday morning, I bid farewell to Matt, my parents, and Kate with a very nervous stomach--a mixture of fear and guilt. Fear because even though the probability of accidents and other things is the same whether I'm with Kate or not, I still worry that something could happen to her when I'm not there to protect her with the tenacity of a mama bear. And guilt because I let someone else take care of my daughter when I could have had some nice one-on-one mommy-daughter time... especially since I let someone else take her in part because of work.

This is a working mom's dilemma.

So now it's Tuesday night and I've had two evenings of staying late at the office, running errands, and working more from the laptop or iPad at home.Now that I have Outlook on my phone (which initially I'd heard was not possible with Android, but now is) I even answered an email this morning while still laying in bed. Fortunately, I only sleep with my phone by the bed when Matt's away, so I won't make a habit of that, and soon I'll be back to leaving within a half hour of yabba dabba doo time, rushing home to my sweet girl, and working more only after bedtime, if I need to at all. 

I miss Kate and Matt, of course, but it has also been nice to indulge my workaholic tendencies for a few days. I'm glad we'll all be back under one roof tomorrow night. I'm thankful to have a job I enjoy. I'm even more thankful to have a loving family to come home to at the end of a busy day. The word "balance" often comes to mind in discussions of working motherhood, but I think I prefer the word "full." Life is full--of joy, of challenges, of to-dos, of love. Life is good.

Fun in Mommy's Office

Due to some miscommunication over child care this morning, Kate ended up hanging out in my office for an hour and a half or so. It was fun to have her there, and she was actually very good! I don't mean to sound so surprised by that, but so often if I'm on the computer at home, she has to be on my lap, trying to hit the keyboard, screaming if I don't let her, etc. But not so today...

She had Elmo for company, and (since I didn't let her eat breakfast at home, for fear she would throw up in the car) she ate all the crackers I brought to eat with my salad at lunch. Boo. But at least she was occupied!

She put Mommy's sunglasses on her head like I do, and got to work coloring a picture with highlighters--just like I used to do when my dad took me to his office as a kid! Fond memories (that I wrote about previously here).

And when she did decide she wanted to get in my lap and check out what I was working on, she busied herself (mostly) with napkins and coffee mugs and mini creamer containers so I could still work. (BTW, it depresses me how bare my office looks here. We're moving to a different floor and things have been packed up for over a month.)

And eventually she took her crackers and her highlighters to a nearby conference table to draw until Opa was able to pick her up.

After she left, I surveyed the floor of my office: three highlighters, two pens, fifty plastic spoons, and some cracker crumbs. And one piece of artwork that I will treasure as a memory of this morning's unexpected delight.

Ministry Matters!

I made very small mention a few months ago about moving into a new position at work. It's now time to let the cat out of the bag a little more!

 

I am now part of a team developing a new website that’s set to launch in the early part of 2011. MinistryMatters.com is designed for church leaders of all stripes--pastors, worship-leaders, teachers, small group leaders, youth pastors, Christian education directors, etc.--and will have thousands of resources to equip, connect, and inspire.

I know a lot of you readers are pastors, married to pastors, or in ministry in some other capacity (paid or unpaid!) so I hope the site will be helpful to you. We'll have sermon helps, searchable Bible reference materials, curriculum, articles, discussion groups, blogs, regular columns, music, Bible studies, videos, and podcasts. Whether you're preparing a sermon, planning worship or a Bible study, or are desperately seeking connection with others walking in your pastoral shoes, you will find what you need at Ministry Matters.

 

If you’d like to help us get the ball rolling and be "in the loop" as we move forward, we’d appreciate help with the following:

• Visit MinistryMatters.com and sign up for the beta launch! You’ll be one of the first ones with access to the site when it goes live.
• Follow @ministrymatters on Twitter.
• Share this blog post on Twitter and Facebook.
• Invite your friends in church leadership to visit MM and sign up for the beta launch.
• We’ll be needing a few church leaders to occasionally give us feedback via conference call. If you or someone you know be able to help us out with that, email me at jkelley(at)umpublishing(dot)org.

Working Mom Wednesday: Dream Jobs

When you were a kid, what did you dream of being "when you grew up"?

I remember an exercise in second grade in which we were supposed to draw ourselves at 20, 30, 40, 50, etc., and--not understanding what all went into preparing for a career--I drew myself as a teacher, a lawyer, a librarian, a veteranarian, and so forth, a different career at every age. (None of those things do I actually have any recollection of wanting to be. At that age, I just wanted to be ten.)

I remember walking through the Smithsonian a few years later, looking at the paintings and agonizing over whether I would be an author or an artist when I grew up. Those were my dream jobs for most of my childhood. I made paintings and sold them door to door one summer. In fourth grade, I wrote a "novel" about a pioneer family with twelve kids and had my teacher critique it. Author or artist, that was the big question. (As a book editor who blogs, scrapbooks, paints, and dabbles in graphic design, I guess I've managed to do both, to some extent!)

At other points throughout my childhood, I wanted to be a novelist, a jewelry designer, a costume designer, and a greeting card designer for Hallmark. Somehow my dad convinced me that that last one meant I wanted to go into marketing. I'm not sure if he actually saw the connection or was just trying to put something practical into my head. I also wanted to have twelve children, which I guess meant I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, since it would take more than two salaries to put twelve kids in day care.

As I got into high school and college, I went through phases of wanting to be a child psychologist, a historical advisor for movies, a youth pastor, and finally--a religion professor. I was out of Divinity school and working in market research for a religious publisher before I decided I didn't have the self-esteem to endure a doctoral program and that I should stick with religious publishing instead.

I am definitely happy with that decision. I have loved my job over the last four years or so--editing books, a magazine, and now a website--so I consider myself pretty lucky. (And my dad is still in shock that I am making a living with two degrees in religion.)

My work over the last few years has even, in some ways, included elements of several other "dream jobs":

- reporter on the religion beat

- secret church shopper

- professional organizer (of words, paragraphs, and articles, if not actual "stuff")

I feel like I'm using my gifts and my education, and it's just a great situation. As my friend Katie quoted last week, "the best leaders are the ones who are able to do what they do best every day."

Are you able to do what you do best for a living?

If not, what is your "dream job"?

What dream jobs came and went as you grew up?

Working Mom Wednesday: Business Casual

I like dressing up for work. That seems to be going out of style everywhere west of New York and D.C., judging at least from the lack of ties in my own office and the 12-for-1 suit deals Jos. A. Bank keeps advertising.

So, you tend to see less of this...

And more of this...

And that's fine. It just makes me kind of an oddball, since I wear skirts and dresses most days.  I just like it. I prefer skirts to slacks, and high heels to flats. Our workplace is officially business casual with casual Fridays, but I'd say just plain "casual" is more the status quo. Jeans are fairly common on other days of the week too. Most people would say they're more comfortable, I guess.

But honestly, I'm more comfortable in something like this:

Or this:

Actually, I've never done the "casual suit" thing like in the above picture, but I think it looks cool. I'm very into cardigans, which I guess may be more "librarian" than "power-chick" but that's how I'm comfy, and sometimes a sweater can casualize a dressier dress, so that works in making me not feel too overdressed in my casual office! I like feeling professional and polished, and I feel like it helps me be momre focused and productive.

I confess I'm not going anywhere with this. I'm certainly not making a value judgment on dressy vs. casual offices. It's just my personal preference. I'm not a clothes horse by any means, but I like feeling like I look nice. (And I love Ann Taylor LOFT, from which I snagged the photos for this post.)

I've actually become a little more casual in my style since becoming a mom. BK ("before kids" or "before Kate") I never wore jeans to the office, even on casual Fridays. I would wear khakis...with heels. Now, jeans and flats are not unheard of for me, and I actually love that leggings-under-skirts look.

On the weekends, I live in flats now, and really don't like wearing heels any time I'm with Kate. They make me feel like I've got cinder blocks on my feet because I can't run after her or pick her up as easily. I change into pajamas or yoga pants as soon as I get home from work now. And Sundays have gotten way more casual for me, as I wear pants or a more casual dress that will work with my Mom Shoes.

But Monday through Friday (or at least Thursday) I'll keep my business casual, even as it goes out of style.

What do you wear to work?

Working Mom Wednesday: Mommy's High Heel Shoes

I started a new position this week at work, so things are very busy. Exciting changes and opportunities, but leaving the "known" of a job I have loved for three years and moving into the "unknown" of this new venture is a little stressful. Lots of meetings, and then I got sick in the night Monday (probably the bug Kate had Sunday) and felt icky all day Tuesday. So, all that to say I'm going lazy on this week's Working Mom Wednesday and rerunning a post I wrote about a year ago.  Enjoy!

**********

Remember a couple years ago when every network had a show about powerful corporate women? There was "Lipstick Jungle," "Cashmere Mafia," and--the marker of any legitimate trend--an SNL spoof sketch called "Lady Business." Matt had a term for the leading characters of those shows: "Power Chicks."

Ever since then, "Power Chick" is Matt's term of endearment for my work persona. When I emerge from the bedroom in the morning dressed in a professional outfit, he says, "Look, Kate--Mommy's a Power Chick," and he encourages Kate that she can be anything she wants to be, including a "Power Chick like Mommy."

When, at two months postpartum, I started feeling really down and anxious about returning to work, I looked on Amazon for books about working motherhood. Amidst the titles for the working mothers themselves was a children's book called Mommy's High Heel Shoes. It's about a little girl playing in her mommy's closet after Mommy leaves for work, and thinking about all the different shoes Mommy wears for all the different things mommies do: going to work, making breakfast, working in the garden, walking the dog, going grocery shopping, going out with Daddy, etc.

Since discovering that book, Matt and I have referred to it often when discussing my working motherhood and our childcare arrangements. For my birthday, Matt even bought me a high heel shoe charm for my Pandora bracelet. I'm sure the charm is mainly intended for ladies with a shoe fetish, of which I am not one, but upon opening the box, I immediately knew the meaning of the gift from my wonderful, supportive husband.

As the author intended, my hope is that it will help Kate understand why Mommy goes off to work every day, and that "Power Chick" is just one of the hats (or shoes) that women can wear.

Judging from her playtime the next day, I think she gets it.

Working Mom Wednesday: Taking Your Kids to Work

I am an only child, and have countless childhood memories of fun times with my parents. One such fun memory is going to my dad’s office with him on Saturdays every now and then. We would stop at a bakery and get doughnuts and milk (coffee for him, I’m sure). We would drive downtown and park in the underground garage, take one elevator up to the marble lobby and then another up to his floor, or one near it that had a nice break room. We would enjoy our breakfast—I always got a Long John—the elongated, cream-filled, chocolate-glazed delight that is occasionally (disappointingly!) confused with a custard-filled éclair. (Blech—if I can’t feel the sugar crunch between my teeth, it’s no good.)

Then we would go to my dad’s office, where he would set me up at a coffee table or secretary’s desk (back when you could call them secretaries), and I would draw and color with highlighters on printer paper (back when printer paper was connected in a big folded stack and you had to tear off the little perforated borders used to guide the paper on the printer’s tracks).
All these memories came flooding back yesterday when I read a question posted on Parents magazine’s facebook page: Do you ever take your child to work with you?
Comments before mine reflected the variety of working environments and situations out there:
“If you work with the public, you really can’t!” (retail clerks, customer service, teachers, etc.)
“I work from home so I do every day!”
“I can’t, but I wish my workplace had a day care so they could be close by.”
“I think every working mom should have the option to take their kids with them.”
“Don’t say that! My ex was a stripper and took the kids with her sometimes!” (seriously, that was a real comment)

Other than brief visits when Matt’s parents are about to pick Kate up at my office, I’ve only had Kate in the office while I was working once. She was just a few months old, still able to hang out in her carrier, and Matt had to drop her off with me for the last two hours of the day or so, while he went to a meeting. I felt really awkward about it, and tried to keep her quiet.

At this stage of life, she would be a real handful and more or less impossible to have around while working (cue frustrated comment from my spouse who has to juggle that situation two days a week at home). Still, I daydream about the day when Kate will be old enough to come in with me on a Saturday or while Daddy has a meeting, and entertain herself, coloring quietly at a nearby conference table, occasionally piping up with precocious questions like “What’s a fax machine?” and “Is white noise really white?”

Though we are happy with Kate’s day care, I do think it would be cool to have on-site child care. There is a nearby drop-in-day-care that we could use on days when Kate has to stay home from day care for mild illness, or when Matt has a sudden conflict on Daddy Daughter Day, but it is located in Nashville’s Federal Building, and after Oklahoma City, I am honestly too uneasy to ever take her there. Parents or Parenting (I read both and can’t keep straight what I read where) recently had an article about the child-care dilemma for parents when kids get sick. A study it cited actually says that in most cases, day cares send kids home unnecessarily, costing parents many hours in sick leave, vacation time, etc.
Do you ever take your kids to work with you? Is it for fun (like a “take your daughter to work day”) or out of necessity (like a two-working-parent scheduling conflict or sick day)?
Is your employer supportive of and flexible with such arrangements?