Blog - Kristina Lunde

October 8, 2018 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

A Mother’s Launching Love

Dear Heather, who launched your oldest off to kindergarten this fall, and Kirsten, who moved your oldest into his freshman dorm room,

Although living at opposite ends of the mothering continuum, you are both experiencing unsettling emotions as you launch your children into new challenges. Your mother-child bond, deeply loving and fiercely protective, brings up bittersweet feelings even as you recognize the importance of your child’s developmental milestones. Different launches, but similar poignant aches.

Heather, you have prepared LaVonne so well for kindergarten; her academic and social skills will take her far in elementary school. More importantly, her love for Jesus will bring God’s light and love to others around her.

Kirsten, you have poured love, support, and teaching into the eighteen-year lifetime of your firstborn Christopher. He will now practice and develop those skills independently as he adjusts to college.

Heather and Kirsten, you may question whether your families are prepared for these big changes. As mothers, both of you have witnessed how new challenges develop your children. From that first toddling step out of your arms, your child faced away from you and took off on new adventures. You celebrated your toddler’s new skill of walking, balancing your excitement with parental concern for potential injuries. In your children’s current steps away from you, you will enjoy seeing them make friends, try new activities, and mature in different ways. This launch will also be a balance of excitement and concern, as you support their progress but feel unsettled about the unknowns.

As we mother our children, we stretch and grow along with them. Years ago my friend Nancy called me after I came home from the hospital with my newborn daughter. Both new to the mothering role, Nancy and I shared our surprise over the intense feelings of love and concern we felt for our babies. A tumble of maternal bonding and hormones in the first week with her newborn Ben, Nancy had burst into tears at the aching realization that her precious boy would some day leave her and go off to kindergarten. (Ben successfully survived that milestone and many more; as an adult, he now has a close relationship with his mom.)

This fall, my friend Daphne lamented as she packed away her sons’ train play-table and little-kid toys. As her youngest son started middle school, she experienced the bittersweet reality that playtime had changed and her sons were no longer little boys.

Heather and Kirsten, as you lovingly release your children in this season of launching, please recognize that this is your chance to develop as well. Whether sending a child off to kindergarten or college, the adjustment can motivate you to pray and draw closer to God. Allow God to guide, support, and direct your precious children in their new steps away from home. As you entrust your children to God in new ways, may God give you time and energy to deepen your relationship with Him.

Lord, please be with all of us mothers in various seasons of launching our children. Please guide our children in every step of their new paths. Help us as mothers to reach the goal of Proverbs 22:6. “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” In Jesus’ name. Amen.

August 1, 2018 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

The Move: A Mom’s Reflections on Boxes and Stuff

Boxes. Clothes. Stuff. First-world problems of too much stuff in the basement. Boxes of my children’s stuff: school memories, projects, photo albums, and yearbooks. A trumpet, music stand, and tennis racket in the corner. Clothes, costumes, and uniforms on a hanging rod, long neglected and outdated. Former extracurricular pursuits, now abandoned for a focus on college classes and career preparation.

Not only my children’s boxes, but boxes of stuff belonging to my husband and me. Plus memorabilia from deceased relatives. I am the keeper of family mementos, my house the repository of family history. My parents’ photo albums, dating back to the 1930s. Super 8 mm movies from the 1960s-1970s in their metal tins with a matching movie projector. Prom pictures from the 70s, photos, souvenirs, and clothing from my late husband’s life, stored for my children to sort through some day. More stuff in labeled boxes.

Hours spent sorting, donating, and re-packing the stuff. Carloads of boxes and items donated. Boxes and more stuff, memory after stored memory, lugged out of the basement, out of the house.

Not many memories from the room itself: a few projects completed and a water softener that ate large bags of salt. The heady stench of marker and the ripping noise of packing tape ceased; the empty room awaited only cleaning before the move. I noticed the smell of moisture from the concrete basement floor. My California daughter used to correlate that smell of humidity with her Midwestern grandmother’s house. “It smells like Oma’s basement.” How quickly that became our own overlooked basement smell once we moved to Minnesota.

Swish, swish. The sound of the broom clearing the last of the room. A residual of dust and bugs where life and memories had been stored.

And then I saw the vertical wooden column upon which I had tallied my children’s growth. Dates, ages, and initials of both kids, their growth verified on the upright framing. The 2 by 4 stood sentry next to a big black plumbing pipe, both essential to the house structure. I snapped a photo and took only memories along with me.

The newly-cleaned basement and house seemed lonely. No kid shrieks or laughter; no youthful energy inside. Gone were the door slams from frustrated teenagers. No kids racing downstairs as I trudged up with box after box. From solid concrete to soft carpet, stuff traveled up the stairs, out the door, and onto the trailer.

Slosh, slosh. The mop diffused a clean smell. A sanitized room awaited the home buyer.

Goodbye home. Goodbye to the place where my children laughed, played, and grew. And grew. And grew. And then they launched.

Thank you, Lord, for your provision and protection as we grew and made memories in our wonderful home. Please bless the new owners.

June 1, 2018 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Farewell to My MOPS Table

Dear Staci, Denae, Dawn, Melissa, Jenn, and Nikki, the MOPS (mother of preschoolers) at my table:

Thank you for allowing me to be the MOPS mentor mom for your “Courageous Contessa” table group this year. From breakfast and crafts to conversations and topic discussions, our table activities were meaningful and fun.

Thank you for giving me the privilege of praying for you. I treasured that aspect of of MOPS mentoring. Thank you also for communicating with me by writing out thoughts and asking for prayer in your mentoring journals. I am honored that you shared the events of your life with me this past year. Please know that I took those situations to God in prayer. I personally cannot face those issues or come up with solutions, but I know that God loves you and that His power and wisdom can effect ideal changes in your life. Even if you did not use the journals, I enjoyed praying for you regularly.

Our table discussions were fun and supportive; I hope you can remember and be encouraged by your time with this group. I still laugh at the concept of a “man poop,” or how to shut out the world and take a mini-vacation. (Thank you, Staci!) Dawn, your dedication to MOPS, obvious when you joined us after working night shift, was inspiring. This group’s willingness to share concerns with each other, from infant sleep schedules to work-husband-child-life balance, built a lot of trust and support. May God continue to nurture the relationships and validation you received, both at our table and at MOPS overall.

Staci, thanks for being a great table leader. Your transparency, insight, and skill at keeping us on topic were much-appreciated. Thanks also for coordinating group playdates and sending reminders of MOPS events.

My prayer for you Courageous Contessas is based on Isaiah 40:11:

May God be your shepherd and show you how He carries you close to His heart. May you recognize God’s leading in your life as a mom of littles. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

April 28, 2018 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Parenting, Plimsoll Lines, and Priorities

Parenting. Plimsoll lines. Priorities. A Plimsoll line illustrates a maritime law that involves oceans, ballast, and cargo ships. This seemingly unrelated concept became an insightful parenting metaphor in my friend Teresa’s recent MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) talk.

In the 1870s, British Parliament member Samuel Plimsoll examined the ongoing problem of overloaded commercial shipping vessels sinking at sea. He developed maximum depth standards for safe loading of ships’ cargo. These standards evaluated factors like salt/sea water, size of ship, time of year, and type of load to determine how deeply the ship could be immersed in water and still safely carry cargo. In 1876, British law mandated that load limits be indicated by a reference line painted on the ship’s hull. These reference lines became known as Plimsoll lines which remain a part of international maritime law.

A Plimsoll line that disappears underwater is an obvious mark of an overloaded ship. Teresa emphasized that principle to the mothers at our MOPS meeting. She spoke of the importance of evaluating our individual situation and then determining our “Plimsoll line,” the point at which we are maximally loaded with responsibilities. Teresa emphasized that, just as Plimsoll lines take into account load factors and seasons, so we need to determine what we can manage and how close we are to sinking.

Teresa’s motivating talk centered on our ultimate goal of following Christ and how we set goals based upon that foundation. As she described how to set realistic parenting and personal goals, Teresa cautioned us to avoid busy-ness and distractions that keep us from doing what God wants us to do. She encouraged us to exercise our “no muscle” by deliberately saying no to activities that would exceed our Plimsoll lines and cause us to sink.

Although she missed Teresa’s talk, our discussion group leader Staci became a great example of using a Plimsoll line. With three boys ages five and under, Staci is a dynamic example of following Christ. As a MOPS mentor mom, I am honored to be part of Staci’s table. On the Wednesdays that MOPS does not meet, Staci sets up playdates for our group. She is involved with high-schoolers, both in her church as youth group helper and in the community as the high school musical choreographer.

On the MOPS morning that Teresa spoke, Staci decided to stay home with her boys. No specific reason, but she said they needed to have a quiet day at home. Little did Staci realize that exercising her “no muscle” in that way was a much-needed preparation for what happened later. That night, her son Jace became sick with vomiting and a fever. Because Staci had recognized her Plimsoll line and cut back on her daytime activities, she had the resources for her long night of illness-assessing, child-comforting, and linen-changing. Staci’s choice also spared the other MOPS’ kids from sharing the nasty virus.

Dear God, please give us wisdom to establish Plimsoll lines for our lives. Teach us how to set goals and relevant boundaries as we follow Christ. In His name we pray. Amen.

March 23, 2018 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

God’s Encouragement in My Valentine Eggs

Crack, plop. Crack, plop. The eggs dropped into the mixing bowl, as my foggy brain tried to keep track of the count. Ten eggs was more than I usually used for cooking or baking, but this was an egg bake I was preparing for our Valentine’s Day MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) event.

As a mother without preschoolers, or “mah-wop” (MWOP) as my husband Craig jokingly calls me, I volunteer with our local MOPS group as a mentor mom. That morning I was bleary-eyed, having “pancake-flip-flopped” my way through three hours of insomnia the night before. At least I would be in good company that morning; most MOPS do not sleep through the night either.

As I grabbed one of the eggs from the carton, I looked closely and noticed a surprise:Printed inside the Goldhen egg carton I had purchased from Aldi, I found a Bible verse. The small print inside the egg carton lid spelled out Psalm 118:24 (RSV): This is the day which the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24 is a special verse for our family. Craig and I realized that our mothers had hung that verse, printed on the same mini-banner, in their respective kitchens in our childhood homes. My father began his daily professional dictations in the 1970s by quoting Psalm 118:24. Craig and I chose that verse as a theme for our wedding ceremony.

And there, on Valentine’s Day morning 2018, was the reminder that the day is the Lord’s and therefore worth rejoicing in. I called Craig over to read it, joking that he should take credit for placing our wedding verse there as a Valentine’s greeting for me. No, Craig could not take credit for that valentine. I gave credit to our Creator God, whose word energized me when I felt exhausted before a long day.

The Bible says that God’s word will always complete what it is meant to bring about. God promised that through the prophet Isaiah in Isaiah 55:11, “so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” Studying the Bible helps us learn about the blessings and purposes of God’s word.

I am so grateful that God used His words, printed on an egg carton, to surprise and encourage me on Valentine’s Day.