parenting Archives - Kristina Lunde

August 31, 2020 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Love and Launch from the Empty Nest

To my youngest child, my dear son,

Congratulations! As you launch from this empty nest, I pray for God’s blessings of provision, protection, growth-producing challenges, and incredible adventures. You planned, worked, and studied continuously to graduate from college; then you moved across the country in search of a job. I am overwhelmed with nostalgia and thankful for the joy you have brought to my life. I especially remember:

How you outsmarted our family at age two. We lost you and searched the entire house: in closets, under furniture, and every possible hiding place, growing more desperate as we called your name to no response. Finally, we found you sitting on the steps just outside the front door, triumphantly declaring, “I outside! I outside!”

Embrace your sense of adventure.

The mustache you drew on your first-grade-self with permanent marker one morning to imitate your father. Daddy said, “Just let him wear it.” I agreed that it would be a good natural consequence. Only that backfired, because you collected compliments on the mustache—all day long.

Nurture your creative self.

Your cardboard construction of an amazingly realistic model of our California house after we moved across the country. That model was an engineering marvel, created to scale in a two-story replica of all rooms. And I remember my distress when that detailed masterpiece fell off the shelf and crashed into pieces.

Don’t let anyone crash your dreams; your memories always go with you.

Your sweet freckled face on our bike ride. My surgery the next day had a high potential of cancer in two organs followed by chemotherapy. I savored your carefree nature as you raced me down the street. You brought me joy and distracted me from my preoccupation with cancer and worries about orphaning my children.

Share your joy with others; you may never know how much they need you.

The pride I felt as I sat in the audience at your high school robotics team presentation. Smooth and confident, you introduced your team and your project. I marveled at your poise and speaking ability.

Keep developing your God-given talents.

Your after-school hugs for the dog. Knowing that you faced some tough days and hurtful bullies in middle school, I made sure Cooper sat on the porch to greet you on your walk home from the bus stop. You thought you were outgrowing mom-hugs, but Cooper always cheered you up.

Never forget that you are loved.

Moving you into the college dorm. Although you were ready to attend college early, I was still adjusting to the idea. You were tired of me fussing over you and so ready to start your new independent life. (Yes, I cried as we drove away.)

I pray for God’s best for you, especially as I miss you.

Your first Christmas home from college. We talked until 1 a.m. and I was so thrilled to see the maturity and perspective you had gained after one freshman semester. I enjoyed your stories of weight-lifting in the gym, throwing pottery onto a wheel, disc-jockeying on your college radio program, and recovering from two failed calculus tests. Ultimately, you pulled your grade up by studying hard, attending every tutoring session, and taking every review class; you made the dean’s list after that freshman year of calculus. That experience of failure as a motivator became a priceless lesson in perseverance.

Failure may be painful, but it can be a great learning experience.

The coronavirus chaos of 2020. COVID-19 affected everything from degree requirements to your graduation plans when you lost an internship, added some classes, and changed course. But you managed to complete two majors from two colleges within the university system. You flexed and figured it out.

Flexibility is important; what seems like a problem may result in changed plans and a better outcome.

Fly, my dear child, fly! Soar off to adventures unknown! May God protect you as you face this world on your own. May God grow and challenge you in ways that only your Creator can. Never forget that you are loved—so much. I miss you, and I am so proud of you.
All my love,
Mom

P.S. Please call once in a while.

[Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay]

June 13, 2020 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Coronavirus Chaos, Toilet Paper Shortages and God’s Provision

(Originally posted March 2020)

What do Coronavirus chaos, the COVID-19 pandemic and shortages of toilet paper have in common? They are all opportunities to recognize God’s incredible provision in the midst of an earthly pandemic. Why people hoard toilet paper in a pandemic that affects lungs and not gastrointestinal tracts, I do not understand. I do know the God who provides what I need, and I trust Him to figure out my wants versus my needs.

As I have previously written, my prayers for my young adult daughter have been chastened and adjusted by the sovereign God I serve. As my daughter’s heavenly Father, God can be trusted to guide her better than anyone, even her mother. My job is to obey God, and I am privileged to watch His miracles in her life. She recently received a great job offer, sold her furniture, and downsized possessions in her previous city in preparation for a long-distance move.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:11-13

After my daughter came home to live with us, she further downsized, expecting yet another big move. We enjoyed unpacking, grouping items together, and downsizing. She labeled, sorted, and taped boxes, while I repacked boxes, stealthily adding encouraging notes. I wrapped fragile items and tucked household goods into boxes. Several boxes had large spaces to fill, but I tried not to mix up the categories. Having used up her few linens and blankets, I considered how to fill the boxes with lightweight packing material.

Plastic bags? I did not have enough for the big spaces. Newspaper? I didn’t want newsprint on her dishes. What about toilet paper and paper towels?! I sheepishly explained my packing and padding methods. “I used toilet paper and paper towels to pad your breakables and fill the boxes. It seems strange, but saves you money because you have to buy that stuff anyway.” In case she ended up living in a furnished room, she would need to send boxes home with us. So all of her essentials were labeled—and packed tightly with paper products. I had no idea that was part of God’s guidance.

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19

Our family drove 1300+ miles from Minnesota before the coronavirus changed everything. My daughter kept her initial appointment in the human resources department, but they warned that her job orientation might occur online. At that time, although Italy implemented quarantines, the U.S. quarantined only cruise ships off the coast.

My daughter’s apartment-hunting went well, but then COVID-19 infection rates began rising. Suddenly, people did not want to show their potential rentals. After several long days, my daughter found a one-bedroom apartment. We waited in the leasing office for the apartment cleaning and then unloaded her boxes late in the day. The clean carpets had not dried, so we spent one last night together before she moved into her new place and we drove home. There was no opportunity to buy furniture or supplies; no one was responding to Craigslist ads. She had a mattress, disassembled shelf, lamp, and her boxes in the empty apartment.

When my daughter started her job six days later, that southern metropolis—along with the rest of the country—had been impacted by COVID-19. Social distancing, working from home in non-essential jobs, and restaurant closures were now coronavirus-mandated precautions. The day after she leased her apartment, the 300+ unit complex closed to potential renters. She purchased electronics necessary for working from home; that store closed the next day. God’s timing placed my daughter just one day ahead of all the closures. Although toilet paper could not be found on the empty grocery shelves, she had what she needed to work from home.

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear. Isaiah 65:24

We could not have known or predicted any of this when my daughter first accepted her job. Like many other people, our lives changed irrevocably by the surprise of COVID-19. We remain grateful to a sovereign God who answered prayer, provided my daughter with a job, and met her needs in a timely manner through the coronavirus chaos. We believe that God miraculously provided for my daughter—including those four rolls of toilet paper packed into her boxes.

June 13, 2020 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Reflections From My Empty Nest: A Mother’s Family Dinner Fantasy

(Originally posted February 2020)

Electronic devices set aside, distractions minimized, and schedules cleared for our family dinner together, our family gathers around the dining room table and eagerly anticipates the customary evening ritual. Savory dishes waft their fragrance as we bow our heads, fold hands, and thank our Creator who once again blessed us with more than we need. Thanks given, we open our eyes to enjoy the feast spread before us. Love poured into serving dishes, we ladle out homemade goodness and spoon tasty nourishment onto our plates as we rehash the day, validate each other’s experiences, and share our dreams. (Did I mention that the meal was nutritionally and visually balanced, a stunning display of culinary acumen and nutritional wealth?)

No, that never happened. That was just my family dinner fantasy: to nurture souls and stomachs as we enjoyed the evening meal.

In reality, our dinnertime looked more scattered and much less portrait-worthy. We always squeezed in the pre-meal thank you to God, but the rest often became a free-for-all. Kids fought, electronics were confiscated, and distractions reigned. Two table-height dogs stuck their snouts toward weak-willed family members, eliciting regular chiding from me to ignore the begging retrievers. Complaints abounded. Whining ensued. Conversation stopped. No one wanted to share what happened in school. Apparently, our kids spent all day in abject boredom and irritation within the school walls. (Those poor teachers, dealing with teenagers all day!)

Why did I nurture this fantasy that the four of us would enjoy a nice dinner together?! I set myself up for disappointment every time. I felt more like a table referee or an interrogation lawyer than a mom relaxing with her dear ones. My husband often smiled a look of commiseration, as if to say, “Here we are at the dinner table – is this is what you wanted?!”

Now, in the reflection of my empty-nest, rear-view mirror, my memories have softened around the edges. I miss the smiles and energy of teenagers around the table. My recall of the piercing whines and exclamatory disgusts has faded, as I remember my love for those teenagers. Previously, I told my husband that dinnertime was an eighteen-year training program and we would not be the beneficiaries. Not so sure how that is working out now, though. A recent phone call to my college student revealed that he was standing up and eating chips and salsa for dinner. My young adult daughter likes to cook, but often stands in the kitchen for meals instead of eating with roommates.

Is the connection-time of eating together merely a mother’s fantasy? Has family mealtime become a disappearing cultural norm as parents prep a rushed meal before everyone leaves for evening activities? How do we relate to a generation that considers face time an electronic concept provided by cell phones, rather than real people who interact together in a group setting? Will they develop the interpersonal skills—communication, empathy, teamwork, and listening—those challenging aspects of working with people? How better to develop those “soft skills,” than with family members, those people you are forced to get along with on a regular basis? These are my big-picture questions.

Meanwhile, I had to let go of that perfect dinner fantasy long ago. My job is to love God first, and then to love and nurture my kids to the best of my God-given ability.

Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Psalm 127:3

Lord God, thank you for the gift and blessing that you have given me in my children. Lord, your legacy is what I pray for in their lives. Nurture in them the desire to follow you above all. Help me to savor any and all time I get to spend with family. In Jesus name. Amen.

November 28, 2019 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

A Mother’s Prayers Preempted by a Sovereign Heavenly Father

Dear One,

You followed your passion in college, filling your days with studies and hard work in preparation for graduate school. I prayed that God would open doors and lead you to a school in your chosen field, but you did not get accepted into any graduate schools. You later described how you asked God for forgiveness for the bitterness, frustration, and anger you felt after that disappointment. Having learned to wait, and even surrender your ambitious dreams, you now give God credit for His peace in your life.

Woman holding Bible and praying — Photo by Olivia Snow on Unsplash

Lord, your will be done.

When you graduated from college, I prayed that God would give you a job in your field. You worked two part-time jobs for almost six months and applied to eighty-five jobs. (I felt discouraged and frustrated for you!) In retrospect, you saw God’s miraculous provision in the job He ultimately gave you.

Lord, your will be done.

For months, I prayed that God would encourage you by improving the communication and working relationships at your job. Despite the verbal promise of a two-year position, your boss let you go on short notice that your position lost funding. (Not the answer I prayed for.) Instead of being bitter or vengeful, you gave God credit for teaching you to want the best for your co-workers and to diligently complete your projects.

Lord, your will be done.

In your current period of unemployment, I keep praying for God to find you a job. No job yet, but you write of trusting God to open doors and give you peace about uncertainty. I love your phrase about “enjoying the closeness of God’s presence,” even though you remain unemployed. You learned to submit all of this to God, a process that might not have been happened if God had quickly answered my prayer.

Lord, your will be done.

The growth, maturity, and perspective that you have gained reveal God’s work in you. May our sovereign heavenly Father keep drawing you closer to Him, even though this process can be challenging and painful. As Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Keep trusting God because He created you and knows exactly what you need.

Love you.
Mom

Lord, your will be done: not what I think is best, but what you as her sovereign heavenly Father know that she needs. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

May 20, 2019 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

James and the Giant Prayer

Relegated to a basement room between church services, my Sunday school class of kindergartners and first graders is usually small. If any children walk by, no matter their age or potty-training status, I try to talk them into joining us for our Bible story. (Just last week, I reeled in a grandmother and her two granddaughters on Mother’s Day.)

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

Our class follows a weekly routine. An opening song is our prayer of honor and invitation to God. During the Bible story, we discuss God’s Word and apply it to our lives. Coloring sheets and occasional craft projects review the Bible verse theme. Lastly, we close in prayer. Recently, as I tried to change the kids’ focus from their projects to prayer, the reserved, soft-spoken James volunteered to pray. In his maroon, three-piece, corduroy suit with plaid shirt, James looked so formal, his eyes focused and sincere. James had never been a talker, although he always demonstrated his comprehension of the Bible story. I nodded and then wondered, “We’ll see how this goes.”

Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4:16

And then James prayed. This recent graduate of pull-ups with the gentle disposition launched into an earnest prayer of thanks. In the loudest voice I had ever heard from him, James boldly brought us before the throne of grace. In gratitude to God, James listed over ten items, each spelled out in a full sentence. He gave detailed thanks for personal blessings as well as generalized blessings of yesterday, today, his family, the weather, our class, the kids, and even the teacher.

Pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:17-18

James’s straightforward prayer gave a comprehensive list of why he was grateful to God. In faith-filled boldness, he concluded, “in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. James 5:16b

Long ago, I memorized that last part of James 5:16 in the King James Version: “the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” To use the King’s English and male gender in our setting, this certainly demonstrated effectual fervent prayer by a righteous man-child. Instead of jumping in with a closing prayer for our class, as I had anticipated, I was humbled by James’ faith-filled prayer.

Lord, please grow this little James with the giant prayers and use him in mighty ways for your glory.

And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 18:3

Thank you, James, for being my Sunday school lesson on how to pray bold, giant prayers.