Window Pains

     I hate driving my husband's truck. For one thing, it's gigantic. I have to lace up my hiking boots just to climb into the seat. And parking? What a joke. I can't help but take up four spaces because I cannot get that thing into one spot. I'm that person backing up and straightening out one hundred times only to get it down to two spaces. The main problem is I have no control over machinery that big. It feels more like the truck is driving me. It's large and in charge. But my absolute least favorite part of driving my husband's truck is the window. The window can roll down at the touch of the button, but the window will not roll back up with the touch of that same button. This has been a thing for a while now and my husband has become accustomed to never rolling it down. Anytime he goes in a drive thru, he leaves enough space to open the door and order. I, however, have not grown accustomed to this ridiculousness. So every time I drive the truck (which I rarely do because, well, I like to feel safe) I forget about this special "feature."  

    The first time it was just an accident, ya know? Like it wasn't even on my radar so going through the Starbucks drive thru, I rolled it down when I went to order. After ordering I pulled forward and pressed the button to roll it back up. And that's when I remembered, Oh yeah. It doesn't work. Now, Jonathan said he has had to fix it before and what he does is press the button over and over a minimum of 1,000 times and eventually the button will in fact send the window back up. So the rest of my time waiting for the drink, I click click click click click click click that button. Get my drink. Click click click click. Window still down. I give up. When I got home I told Jonathan I accidentally rolled the window down and tried to fix it but couldn't, and then went on a rant about how ridiculous the whole thing is. He then went outside and got the window back up by pressing the button enough times or fast enough or slow enough or whatever his trick is.

    The next time was when I was going to a midwife appointment. I don't even know why I had his truck  but I guess we traded since I was going without any kids. Now you have to get a ticket to get into the parking lot at the hospital. To get said ticket you have to open your window, so I did, and I grabbed the ticket and went to roll the window up. And that's when I remembered I needed to open the door not the window. Click click click click click. I drove to my parking spot and was a little early so I sat there, clicking fast, clicking slow, clicking til my finger got sore. Window would not budge. I left the window opened and went into my appointment. Thankfully no one broke into the truck. I drove home, returned Jonathan his truck, window opened. He was able to fix it because his truck knows its master.

    I wish I could say that was the last time, but I was leaving one day for some alone time and he needed to have my car with all the carseats so he tossed me the truck keys. I looked at him and said, "Babe, I can never remember not to open your window. Can you put caution tape over the buttons or something?" He was like, "You know not to roll it down now. Just open the door when you order." So as I leave the house I literally tell myself, Do not roll the window down. Then I start thinking about what I want to do with my time alone. I pray and talk to God and process different things happening in my life. I turn a podcast on. I pull into Starbucks. Lucky me, no line! I stop to order and I roll the window down. And immediately, I am in disbelief. HOW COULD I FORGET? 

    A couple months ago a friend and I were leaving my house super early for our half marathon race. We got everything ready to go, grabbed a banana for the road, and hopped into the truck since Jonathan was bringing the kids to cheer me on later in my car. We were three minutes down the road hopping on the highway and I'm finishing my last bite of banana. Now, I'm not one to leave trash in my husband's truck- I know better than that. And a banana peel is bio-degradable so naturally I throw it out the window. CRAP! The window is open. I can't close the window. "NO! NO! NO!" I shout. My friend jumps, "WHAT?!? What did we forget?"  And I explain the pain that is my husband's truck window. And she laughs. And I kind of laugh, kind of cry. This time is especially annoying because the truck is loud even with the window closed, but the window open, on the highway, it was like having the TV blaring static on full volume. We didn't talk much the rest of the drive, couldn't hear each other.

    Jonathan still hasn't put tape over the button so I guess we just have this little bit going now. I avoid driving the truck. Sometimes I must drive the truck. When I drive the truck, for one reason or another I cannot avoid rolling the window down. When I roll the window down, I can't fix it. Jonathan fixes it. I avoid driving the truck. And the cycle continues. Except for today. Today I was leaving to grab a coffee and have time to myself with a few books. And of course, Jonathan needed the van so I got the joy of being driven by the truck. Before leaving I warned him, "You know I can't remember to not press the window down. YOU KNOW. I'm warning you. You still want me to take it?" "Babe. I believe in you. Just remember." He walks me to the truck and I get in. As soon as I am inside he motions for me to roll the window down. I almost did it, but before I could he already had his thumbs up like, "See! You didn't roll it down." Phew. That was close. I did a mobile order for my coffee and decided I better go inside to pick it up- I knew I couldn't be trusted in a drive thru line. Also, I found a sticky note in the truck so I went ahead and covered the buttons. Unfortunately, it wasn't sticky anymore so it kept falling off but I kept laying it over just as a visual. Got my coffee. Success. Then I had my time reading at the church and drove home. And for the first time, I returned the truck with the window up. This is a big deal. I conquered. I would like to thank my parents for life, my kids for giving me "mom brain", and Jonathan for giving me too many second chances and believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. The window is up. And hopefully I won't have to drive the truck again anytime soon- wouldn't want to ruin my streak! 

Making it Matter,

Laura Jones

Family Retreat

 

      Jonathan and I have four kids ages 6, 4, 2, and 4 months that I get the privilege to stay home with. My life is crazy staying home and it is really crazy going out. I took all four out by myself yesterday to run some errands. First stop was TJ Maxx. We were going so our newly six year old could spend his birthday money from great grandma K and get a toy he’d eyed there previously. It takes years to get everyone out of the car and to safely navigate the parking lot. We finally get in and make our way to the toy wall. The kids were perusing every toy on every shelf oohing and ahhing until I finally wrangle them to the checkout, which is when I realize that I left my wallet at home on the counter. *cue internal meltdown. Meanwhile my two girls are up to no good messing with the candy shelves and I am explaining to my son what it means to have them “hold” the toy for us. So we go back to the car, which sounds simple but it takes forever because I have to peel the girls off of those shelves without completely losing my cool. Turns out “girls, come with mommy, it’s time to go” elicits no response in public. We go back home, I run in to get my wallet and we go back to TJ Maxx and repeat the whole unloading, checking out, prying off the shelves to leave. And this is only our first place we need to go. By this time I’ve cut two other stops off the list because I’m already worn out, but we really need to go to the grocery store. Praise for Aldi having two seats in their carts because I was able to put my double-trouble too-cute-for-words girls in there and then my 6 year old pushed the baby in the stroller. Our trip was fairly short and fairly smooth until it was time to leave. Apparently one of my angel girlies liked the cart a little too much and did not want to leave. I lift her out while she cries, set her down and she lays herself on the concrete by the cart. I start to walk away in hopes she’ll follow and to not respond much to the full forced fit my two year old is throwing, but unfortunately other people are trying to put their carts away and my little pumpkin pie is sprawled out in their way. So I get her and we finally make it to the car. I’m frustrated. Literally out loud “God, please help me. Give me your patience.” And we make a bee line straight home. This was just one hour of my day.

     And here is what I realized- we’ve got some work to do and areas to grow in. The time to train my babes in how to listen, how to leave, and how to obey is not in public. We have to practice and learn these things in private so that in public we’ve all mastered the basics and can go out smoothly. And this is true for a lot of life. The time to learn the Bible isn’t when you’re preaching. The time to learn to shoot the ball isn’t during the game. Most skills take time and training and practice in private before putting them in action in public. And parenting kids is no different. The time to teach your kids to obey when you say “come here!” is not when they’re running in the street with a car coming. It takes hours and hours of daily consistency with love and patience to teach kids the things they need to know in how to relate to the world around them and how to obey the people who want to protect them most. 

       This week we are going on Team Jones Family Retreat! We are taking our kids to stay in a cabin where you can see the stars at night. Each day we will have a training hour, where we will role play, do relays, and practice different areas we need to work on as a family. Like getting ready to leave the house and sitting in our seats promptly. Or using yes ma’am and no sirs. Or staying seated at the table during family dinner. Or learning how to welcome others into our home and host them well. We have lots of fun treats and whistles and stop watches to make it quite the event each day and I am excited to see our kids learn as we take the time to teach them. We’re going to make a family flag and have family devotions planned each morning as well as jobs for each kiddo to help prepare breakfast. Micaiah is a fantastic bacon maker and Essie girl can make a mean toasty toast. Lauralai can set the table and make sure everyone has silverware, plates, and napkins. And Corban can be cute! We’re a family team and everyone has a gift to contribute. Jonathan and I are growing as their coaches, not just looking to encourage skilled players, but players with heart. Grateful we have the ultimate Playbook that teaches, rebukes, corrects, and trains in righteousness. Pray for our time this week that our family would make memories and grow to be a brighter city on a hill! 

Making it Matter,

Laura Jones

Fried Plantains

     When we lived in Fort Worth, one of my very dearest friends was our neighbor across the street. Her name is Norma. There is really no reason we should have become such close friends. What I mean is we have nearly nothing in common on the surface. Norma is an 80 year old great grandma from Puerto Rico whose primary language is Spanish and she can barely use her iPhone. And yet, it was God's kindness that placed our family in the house across the street from her and her husband, Marino. She is one of the sweetest, most hospitable people I have ever met and I have learned so much from her. When we moved away and had to say goodbye, we both cried because of the unlikely friendship we'd forged over the two years we lived in that house. 

    Here are 5 things I learned about hospitality from Norma that will forever stick with me: 

1. Welcome people in. The first time I knocked on Norma's door she said, "honey, come in, come in." And so began our friendship. She was usually cleaning and cooking but always welcomed me and Micaiah (and then me and Micaiah and Esther) in to "sit down, sit down honey." She was often up and moving, but not in a "too busy for you" kind of way. I told her she worked way too hard and needed to take a break to which she replied, "at our age if you stop moving and sit around, you die." I took her to heart on that because she's one sharp feisty woman and never sat down more than a minute of her life I'm sure. She always loved conversation and seemed delighted by the kids and by me being there with her. She looked at my kids like they were her own great grandkids and we called her their abuela because of it. I am grateful for that first time of her welcoming us in. It kept me knocking on her door.

2. Give food. I also quickly learned not to go to Norma's after eating, because she wouldn't let you say no to food. Once you knocked, you were invited in, and once you were in, somehow there was a hot plate of beans, rice, and chicken sitting before you even though you'd politely just declined. I stopped declining because it didn't matter to Norma anyways. Plus her food was incredible. The first time she made me her fried plantains, I could have eaten them all. And she'd have let me. After bringing up how much I liked them so often, she finally taught me how to make them but mine certainly weren't as good. She also always had cookies for the kids, which were really crackers. They loved being at her house because she always offered them (read:forced them to have) juice and crackers and they certainly didn't mind that.

 3. Be available. This is the main reason Norma and I became friends. She was available. As a stay at home Mom with two littles at the time, I wasn't going too many places. Just me and the babies at home often, and Norma was always home too. We were the friends each other needed. I loved asking Norma questions about her family and learning from her life experiences. And she enjoyed sharing them with me. Never were we made to feel like an interruption or an inconvenience to her day; actually she made us feel like quite the opposite. She delighted in us, like she was hoping we'd stop by that day. 

4. Be present. Norma was never scrolling on her phone or texting...perhaps mostly because she didn't know how to. I loved when she asked me questions about her phone, like how to make it ring because it was on silent. Or how to find a picture someone had sent her. But truly. She was just there, present, engaged in the conversation. She was quick to hold a baby or help the toddler with something. Being present is a lost art, but Norma's got it down and I love hanging around her because of it. She treats you like you're the only one that matters in the moment.

5. Cross the street. Norma would knock on our door too. I'll never forget the times she knocked with a hot container of food she'd just prepared. She knew how much I loved her fried plantains and brought many  dishes over! She also would come over while the kids napped sometimes so I could run to the store. If she didn't see us for a couple days she'd come by to make sure everything was okay.  

    This past weekend we were in Fort Worth for a birthday party and I told Jonathan I'd like to go by Norma & Marino's house while we were in town. I called Norma a couple times in the morning but it went straight to voicemail...she probably just forgot where the power button was or something. But after the party, we just stopped by. Haven't seen them since before having Corban. Gave no advanced warning we'd be coming. We walk up to the door, knock, and it's not long before I hear, "Come in, come in, honey."  Within minutes we were sitting at their table being "offered" hot food and the kids already each had their juice. It was like she knew we were coming. Always ready to welcome us in. Jonathan handed her Corban and she just adored him saying, "Oh God bless you. God bless you, baby." She's gotten to hold 3 of our 4 newborns and has always spoken that over them. I hope to be more like Norma. To love and serve people the way she does. To be interruptible and delighted by the "interruption." To be present and enjoy simple conversation. Knowing Norma has made me better and her friendship has marked me for life.

Making it Matter,

Laura Jones

Mic(aiah) Drop

     I enjoy listening to podcasts. Typically I'll put one on for a little extra motivation to knock out the dishes or fold the mountain of laundry. On this particular day, I was listening to a Christian parenting podcast while driving my kiddos around. Micaiah, my five year old, was talking to me, as he usually does. I had put on the radio for them but he just wanted to chat. I was half listening and responding to him, half trying to listen to my podcast. I took an airpod out so I could hear him better and he, now realizing why I wasn't responding sooner to him, immediately said, "Why do you have those in? Are you listening to a podcast?" I said I was, and he quickly asked why I was listening to a podcast. I was slightly taken aback and said, almost defensively, "I am listening to a podcast teaching me how to be a better Mom!" He responded, "Wait. You have your headphones in and have to ignore your children to learn to be a better mom? How does that make sense?" Yes, my five year old said those words. I literally had no response, just started slowly removing the other airpod as the proverbial mic loudly dropped. Then after admiring the wisdom and clarity of thought my five year old just spoke, I smiled and said, "You're right, that doesn't make sense. Let's talk!"     

    I have thought about this moment so many times. Here I was, doing something good, something beneficial even. But it was at the expense of what was best. A good thing can be a bad thing if it's not the best thing in the moment. Being present goes a greater distance in Motherhood than anything else. It was  ironic, here I was striving to be a better mom in the future by being a worse mom in the moment. I am grateful for Micaiah calling me out because the way to be the best mom to my kids is to be a present mom with my kids. Presence over progress because in being present, progress is made. There's little I care more about than being the best mom I can be to Micaiah, Esther, Lauralai and Corban. They deserve the best. Each of their hearts full of curiosity and words, just wanting to talk and process through all they are seeing and learning. I love that I get to be that person for them every day. All day. May we always choose what is best over what is good. And save the podcasts for the daily sink sesh!

Making it Matter,

Laura Jones

Are We Done Yet?

    

    In the first week of Corban's life, I was asked the question a total of 10 times if we were done having babies. From nurses to strangers to friends to pediatricians, this question was top on the list. And while I think it's rooted in curiosity with no bad intention, it typically seems to come with an insinuation of, "You're done, right?" 

    It's funny because whenever we got married the question was, "Do y'all want to have kids?" Then after having our first son it was, "When are you going to have another?" Because if you have one, you might as well have two and if you have a boy, you'd surely like a girl. After baby number two, we got, "A boy and a girl, how perfect." Then we crashed that "perfect" picture with another baby. After three, the question came, "Do y'all want to have anymore?" But with four, after FOUR children, it's, "Are you done?!" This progression reflects how people think and is largely shaped by what's culturally expected. Most surely want to have one child, likely two so there is a sibling. Three is possibly manageable, but four is A LOT and must mean you're done. But being done implies that something has been started. Most people it seems, get married & hold off on being open to having a baby (through birth control or other means of prevention). Then when they decide they want to have a baby, they start trying, meaning they stop preventing. We never started trying to have babies. We simply got married and participated in God's good design of marriage.

    God, in His sovereignty has given Jonathan and me a gift that He, also in His sovereignty, could take away. He has given us the good gift of being able to conceive, carry, birth, and raise children. This is a gift I am humbled to receive, knowing there's nothing I have done to earn it or be worthy of it. I know too many who do not have this gift and it breaks my heart. The gift of fertility is not lost on me. And because I know it is a gift from God, my goal in stewarding the gift is to give it back to Him. To submit it to Him and say, "God, this is Yours. Use it how you will. Not my will, but yours be done." 

    Most questions that come in regards to building a family are rooted in wants. Literally in MY will. "Do you WANT kids?" "How many do YOU want?" "When do YOU want to have them?" "Do you WANT more?" As a follower of Jesus, the call is to not make decisions based on what we want, but consider and seek what He wants, knowing that our flourishing will follow our submission to Him. This is a counter-cultural concept, but obedience to God is where life to the full is found. Culture today says our wants, our feelings, our desires are to be esteemed above all else. What you want is your right to have. But wisdom of the world is foolishness to God. We are called to not conform to the world, but be transformed so that we can know what God wants. And what better way to know what God wants than to fully surrender everything to Him? 

    So to answer the question, "Are you done?" No, we are not done trusting God with our fertility. I am not so prideful as to think that God would continue gifting us with these eternal hearts made in His image. We are not trying to have as many kids as we can, but neither are we trying to deny God's gifts. We will continue to live open handed with our fertility, knowing God opens wombs and closes them. That may mean we only have these four children and to God be the glory for them, may we steward their hearts well. Or that may mean we have eleven children, in which case to God be the glory, may we steward their hearts well. We know that God is good and are actively choosing to trust Him to determine the number of kids we should have. What I want can be left out of it although so far I have four and I surely want them all!      

Making it Matter, 

Laura Jones