Pants are important.

This year, my world has been gradually shifting…

Or maybe it’s been more like a life-rattling earthquake…

Whichever…

Lifa is home. I’m no longer the high capacity, solo, unstoppable lady with the big, red playground/dance floor on wheels. 

I’m a mom who promised a long time before I became a mom that I would be an ambassador for the Family of God and do whatever it takes to live like His Family lives.

That’s where His Kingdom comes. And that’s what lasts.

So that’s what I want to be about more than I want to be about the marathon ministry moments, the amount cups of tea I sip at GoGo’s, or how holy-crammed my schedule is. I’ve talked the talk in shacks, hospitals and in food-serving lines. Now I have to walk the walk in my own house.

But I’m sneaky.

I’ve figured out ways to do both. I’ve packed a planner and put my slow cooker to good use in order to keep my missionary gold stars and to try to run a household with routine, health and joy. 

Ain’t nobody got time to disappoint.

Totally. Under. Control.

Or something.

Or not at all.

FINE.

My sneaky plans are backfiring in ridiculous and embarrassing ways this week like forgetting where I’m driving, talking in circles, filling the kitchen with smoke, and not being able to keep up with anything.

This is what I know:

God stays the same.

Hallelujah.

Because I cannot stay the same anymore.

Lifa is learning this week that big boys do not run around the house (or outside or anywhere and everywhere) butt-naked. It’s a legit growing pain for that little dancing free-bird, but we cannot stay the same. He’s growing into a thriving, healthy, joyful, world-changing man of God.

Pants are important.

Our wardrobe and our todays have to change.

(I found him naked booty-dancing to Uptown Funk this morning on the couch… Still a work in progress, but the kid has moves.)

I’m trying to wrap my reality around being a mom that is entrusted with showing this one little boy who God is through the way our family lives and loves. Lifa’s learning how to wear pants (sort of), and I’m learning how to let go of the ways I lived out family ministry before.

God’s promises stay the same, therefore we cannot.

We have to dress like the big boy he’s made us to be.

We have to let go of family as we know it, and let the Father lead us deeper into the ways and realities of His household.

And I’ve found that getting to participate in what feels like ministry mcnuggets compared to the super-sized schedule I had before has a lot more impact. When we let go of our ways, He does it His. All the strength I can muster up for 18 hours a day can’t hold a candle to the Light of the World, Whose voice, leading and loving changes eternity in an instant. So I’m sticking with that.