Author: Anne Rulo

Holy Week is so interesting. I don’t mean to sound cheesy, but as someone who did not have a liturgical church upbringing, I find the traditions of this week fascinating to learn as an adult. For example, my husband was raised in a Lutheran Church and speaks affectionately about the tradition and intentionality around Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Of these, the one I have come to find particularly meaningful is the Good Friday service.

In this tradition and many others, that service ends with a “strepitus.” Certainly a new word to my vocabulary, strepitus is Latin for “great noise.” At the end of the service, the lights dim, and someone will slam a book, create “thunder” via a sheet of metal, scrape a bench across the floor, or use some other means to create a racket. The reference for the noise seems to vary, with some using it as a representation of the earthquake after Christ’s death and others as a way to mimic the closing of the tomb. Regardless, the strepitus symbolizes the finality of His death and the work He did on the cross.

It is a fitting and thunderous echo of the power of His final words, “It is finished.”

As I considered how we can prepare for Easter, the thought of that noise brought an image to my mind. Darn if God didn’t shut that tomb tight, yet we can’t resist knocking on it.

Please forgive the potential irreverence, but with the urgency of a child standing outside the bathroom door, sometimes we can’t seem to leave Jesus alone. We find ourselves panicked and worried that He has something we need in there, while He is just telling us to leave Him alone and let Him do His business.

Us: Hey! Hey Jesus! Hey! I need something in there!

J: No, you don’t. I’ve given you everything you need and I know what I am doing in here.

Us: But Jesus, I NEEEEED something in there.

J: Hey, would you trust me? Anything I brought in here with me you do not need.

Us: But, but, Jesus, please?! Could you please open up the door and get me…

The shame I think I’m supposed to keep carrying?
The mistake I made all those years ago?
The insecurity you freed me from?
That thing you told me “no” about?
The opportunity I want, but you protected me from?
That habit that gives me comfort but takes me further from You?
The old opinion I used to have of myself?
The mistaken opinions others have of me?
The works I think make me worthy of Your love?
The pride I have in my own abilities?

J: No, my child. You are not supposed to take any of that stuff back. Those things are why I am here. Please leave it here with Me.

My goodness.

For all that is Holy (literally), we have to quit banging on that tomb and trying to drag stuff back out. The ONLY thing that was ever supposed to come back out of that dark space was Him. We have to stop trying to resurrect all that other stuff He took in there to die. He took it because He loves us. He took it because He wanted to carry it for us. He took it and He took it for keeps.

I pray each of you experiences a sweeter and deeper Easter than any you have known before. And, no matter where you are or how you celebrate on Good Friday I hope you will take a moment, hand Him your stuff, and let Him shut the door.

It. Is. Finished.

*Originally published 4/15/2019, updated for freshness and clarity.

Check out more of Anne’s mental health and faith content on her blog, in her Bible studies, and through speaking engagements!

I love Holy Week. And, somehow, I think I love it more because I didn’t grow up in church. Until I became a Christian at sixteen, Easter was simply the fun of a new dress, searching for my basket, and gathering eggs at my grandmother’s house. And, even though it wasn’t exactly Jesus-adjacent, I appreciate the memories of those early days.

Later, after I married, I had the additional privilege of getting to know Easter not just as Resurrection Sunday but also as a week-long celebration per my husband’s Lutheran upbringing. Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday were all new to me. It was neat to add those extra days of understanding, sweetening the crescendo up to a victorious Easter celebration.

Interestingly, a lot happened on those less “famous” days of Holy Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday. As a light appetizer, I’ll offer just a little here. Scholars suggest that on Monday, Jesus cleared the temple. On Tuesday, He visited the Mount of Olives, where He would later be betrayed. Wednesday (also referred to as “Spy Wednesday”) is suggested as the day Judas made the decision to betray Jesus. And, finally Saturday, (sometimes referred to as “Black Saturday”), when Jesus lay in the tomb.

While considering these extra pieces of the Easter story, a broader lesson came to mind. Investigating these more obscure days in Jesus’s last week on earth was a simple reminder that there is much to learn about Him “in between the highlight reel.” As we look closer, we learn more about this important week and other experiences He lived. And, we get not only Sunday School level Jesus, but also witness some of the finer nuances of His character. Just as when we spend time getting to know people, when we take the time to know God more intimately, it helps us love, appreciate, and understand Him even more.

During the upcoming Holy Week, I pray you are blessed by learning more about who He was…and is! And, I pray that practice also encourages us to spend time learning and developing deeper relationships with others. I love that any lesson we learn about Jesus ultimately has an amazing application for our daily lives as well.

Holy Week happened a long, long time ago, but its implications are as modern-day as they come. Blessings to each of you as the victory of Easter Sunday approaches. May you deeply know Him—and be deeply known. This is where life is truly lived.

(For those interested in a deeper dive, a thorough infographic on Holy Week events can be found here.)

Photo by Bruno van der Kraan on Unsplash, used with permission

*Originally published 3/30/2021, updated for freshness and clarity.

Check out more of Anne’s mental health and faith content on her blog, in her Bible studies, and through speaking engagements!

My aunt recently sent me a book, The Gift of Perspective, by Kansas City author Lindsey Roy. While the entire story is chock-full of inspiration on coping with adversity, it was the brief mention of a question she occasionally asks her kids that really blessed me.

“Every once in a while, I tell my kids and husband we are going to do family performance reviews. Each person gets to tell the other members of the family one thing they really appreciate and one thing they wish the other person would start/stop/change…most kids get plenty of feedback from [their] parents, so it’s useful to turn the tables.” (p. 29)

She goes on to say that while not every suggestion will be good or lead to action, the perspective you can gain is valuable. And so, (rather impulsively I might add) I asked the question. Turns out, she was right.

First up, my (8yo) daughter. “Hey, what is one thing Mommy does well and one thing you would like her to do differently?” After reassuring her this was not a trick and I really wanted to know, she said:

“I love that you keep the house picked up and tidy, like the pillows on the couch.” And, “I wish you would cook more.”

Okay, “I wish you would cook more” was not a surprise, I don’t like cooking. But, the reason around it was. She meant she wanted me to be more prepared with food rather than waiting until the last minute or forgetting snacks. She wasn’t asking me to change what I cook. It was just thinking about food in a way that helped her feel more secure. I get that.

But, the house picked up? You could have knocked me over with a feather because this child is a wake of creative chaos. She moves from one activity, mess, set of supplies, etc. with complete abandon. For her to want a “tidy” home completely shocked me until we kept talking and I got it. Her home is the space that allows her to explore who she is. And, for her, it’s easier to do that in a calm, clean space.

On to my (12yo) son. His first answer was a total dude response, “I love everything you do Mom.” Okay kid, fine. But, he did ask for one change. “Will you learn to play video games so we can play together?” Further conversation polished something I already knew. This child loves games of any kind. And, he’s hyper-competitive. Because I am not, I tend to avoid it. He’d noticed and was inviting me back into the things that are important to him.

So, now that we are a month in, here’s what’s changed:

• I don’t like cooking any more than I did. But, I am more motivated to think ahead about what we are having and include my daughter in the process because she finds value in it. Side benefit, I enjoy being more prepared and we’ve had more family meals at the table.
  
  
• I already kept a pretty tidy home. It’s not about appearances. I just like to. It makes me feel less discombobulated. But, now when I am picking up (or helping her pick up/clean up her latest “adventure”) it feels less like a chore and more like a way I can uniquely love her in a way she values.
  
  
• We’ve played more board games as a family and my son is THRILLED. And while I don’t think I’ll ever be able to actually compete with him, I’ve learned enough for him to put me in my own little patch of grass in Minecraft to build something. Turns out, it’s not so bad and he is amused to watch me fumble alongside him.

Of course, the most important part about this post is not these specific examples. Your family and your kids will be totally different. The important part is the impact of learning “why” it might be valuable to do (or not do) something. I am 100% certain there are things I get worked up about or do that my kids could care a hill of beans about (neatly folding clothes comes to mind…they do not care). But, because I hadn’t asked, I was spinning my wheels in ways that were invaluable or neutral to them while missing the mark on things that were (fairly easy) home runs.

Let me be clear. Do my kids run my house? No. Not even close. But, do I want to be aware of and evaluate if there is a wiser, more fulfilling way to spend time with them in the handful of years I have them? Absolutely.

Here’s to parenting smarter, not harder. I’m for it.

Photo by Benjamin Manley on Unsplash, used with permission

Originally published January 30, 2024. Updated for freshness and clarity.

For more of Anne’s mental health and faith content check out her blog, Bible studies, and speaking engagements!

In general, I am not a silly-humor kind of person. Apologies to all of the Chris Farley and Will Ferrell-loving folks but, that kind of comedy usually isn’t my thing. So, this year, as I (again) watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and found myself laughing, tearing up, and laughing again I questioned, “What is it with this movie? Why in the world do I love it so much?” It was then I made the connection…

It’s because I am Clark Griswold.

This comparison might seem strange. But, as I will demonstrate, when it comes to life’s potentially magical moments, I tend to be high on vision and emotion…and sometimes (very) low on practicality, rationale, and execution. Please consider the following examples:

• That time I impulsively decided I wanted to see the hospital where I was born. My Mom had to come bail me out on the Kansas Turnpike because I didn’t have change for the toll booth to complete the trip.
  
  
• When I measured our existing shower door in the middle of the night because I wanted to surprise my husband with a bathroom makeover. Shockingly, for this never-have-I-ever-measured-or-installed-a-shower-door gal, the one I ordered didn’t fit. We lost a couple of hundred dollars, and my brother-in-law had to come install a different one.
  
  
• When I wanted to see the Northern Lights so badly, we took my husband out of work and our kids out of school and drove north through the night. We got to Minnesota and almost ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere before I was willing to give up.
  
  
• That time I “forced” my sisters and our (very) young children to complete a 5K Turkey Trot at Thanksgiving because-it-was-tradition-gosh-darn-it.
  
  
• Every time I have been disappointed by “the moment fairy.”
  
  
• I am routinely not particularly safe or sensible when I put Christmas lights on our home.
  
  
• In general, a this-is-gonna-be-great-lets-not-ruin-the-organic-magic-with-planning attitude.

After reading that list, it’s almost embarrassing that an adult can get that caught up in achieving a moment. And yet, if I identify with one of the most iconic Christmas characters of all time, I know I’m not alone. For all of you who are your family’s Clark Griswold, or for those of you who have to deal with us, here are some tips to consider…

• We “Clarks” mean well. We really, really do. We love our people and our moments so much that we will extend ourselves, our sanity, and our imaginations to bring about something we hope will bring joy.
  
  
• We can learn. Over time, we learn (albeit slowly) what traditions are worth fighting for and what can be relaxed.
  
  
• We really do know what matters. In fact, the important stuff (togetherness, love, connection, Jesus) is why we try so hard to create opportunities for these moments to happen.
  
  
• We know we are ridiculous. Often, as we push to make something “just so”, we are also being pretty hard on ourselves internally. Be gentle if/when you need to redirect us.
  
  
• We are grateful when you appreciate the effort, even if it doesn’t go as planned. A thank you for trying to create magic goes a long way when things (often) go sideways.
  
  
• We serve an important purpose. Clark Griswolds, while we can be a little “much”, are the preservers of the family. We remember the traditions. We re-tell the stories. We (try) to make the old recipes, use the old decorations, and preserve the past for future generations. And, every once in a while, we succeed in our hope to create a moment that will live in our collective hearts, minds, and memories forever.

Here’s the Clark Griswolds of the world…and those who love them.

For more of Anne’s mental health and faith content check out her blog, Bible studies, and speaking engagements!

*Photo and video © National Lampoon Christmas Vacation

“It’s aliiiiiive!” You can hear the line in your head. Even if you’ve never seen the classic 1931 film adaptation of Frankenstein, you certainly know the general concept. Lit in crude black and white, a scientist and his assistant steal bodies, sewing the parts of people together to create another. They set the body in motion with electricity, thrilled with their craftsmanship. The pieced-together monster is initially gentle, only to get out of control as they discover they put in the wrong brain. The scientist had hoped to combine all the “good parts” to create something he thought was a better design. Too bad those parts weren’t meant to go where he put them.

The concept of sewing mismatched parts together to create a person seems far-fetched but honestly, we attempt this sort of thing all the time. You will be hard-pressed to find a person who has not tried to make themselves into something they’re not. Satan (the real horror movie) is often subtle. If he can’t make you outright miserable, he’ll try to distract you into sewing yourself in the wrong place.

⁴ For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, ⁵ so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. ⁶ We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; ⁷ if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; ⁸ if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully. (Romans 12:4-8, NIV)

Scripture literally describes us as the “body” of Christ, each with our own “function.” In addition, it also says “each member belongs to all the others.” So, not only do we have our own specific jobs, but we are also responsible to one another to do them! The more we stay true to our “function” the more the body will work as He designed.

Now, I can already hear some of you panicking. “Uh oh, what if I am serving somewhere I am not supposed to be?!” No worries, dear reader. This message is intended for freedom, not condemnation. Here are a few examples from when I have “mis-sewn” myself:

When I felt guilty for not serving in children’s ministry because I’m a woman and I have children…even though I’ve always been broken for teenagers and I write devotionals for grown women.

When I said yes to leading a ministry because my husband is a public figure and I felt lazy “just” working behind the scenes…even though I’m an introvert, NOT a visionary, and I really enjoy being a “doer.”

When I took on an entire family Thanksgiving meal because I wanted people to think I could do it…even though I’ve never enjoyed cooking and others had offered to help.

I want you to see the words/feelings in those examples. Guilt, comparison, envy, pride. Motivations that are not from God and not out of love. Motivations that left a spiritual Frankenstein eating a very cold, poorly seasoned Thanksgiving dinner. While God can still shower our ill-advised efforts with grace, we are far more likely to be fulfilled and effective when we are operating in God’s body rather than creating our own. He has designed you with some very specific tasks in mind. So, unless you are getting some neon sign to do something totally and completely against your design, just do the thing that makes sense and lights up your heart and blesses God’s people. Is serving God always an easy fit? No, but it’s not always hard either. Sometimes it just “works.”

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10, NIV)

Please hear this. We need you. We, the members of this body, need you to serve. We need you to recognize how essential you are and commit to being sewn in exactly where He designed you, because we all do better when you are doing your job, and we are all doing ours. The body of Christ is the most beautiful being ever created, quite literally His bride. Let’s help her walk gracefully until He comes to collect her.

For more of Anne’s mental health and faith content, check out her blog, Bible studies, and speaking engagements!

(Originally posted in October 2022, updated for freshness and clarity.)

The other day I went for a run. Now, don’t get it in your head this is a regular occurrence. I’m super high-maintenance when it comes to running. It can’t be too hot, it can’t be too cold, I need to have my headphones with the right music and someone to watch my children. And yet, by some miracle, all these things came together so off I trotted on a gorgeous fall day.

Feet pounding on the pavement, music in my ears, and surrounded by nature, I spent practically all my time looking at the trees. This is the most incredible time of year with the leaves changing, giving us new beauty almost by the hour as the colors shift from green to crimson, yellow, and brown. It got me wondering what makes the leaves change color and what makes them fall. So, I did what any high-quality researcher does…I Googled it.

As it turns out, in the spring and summer, leaves are green due to the presence of chlorophyll. Then, when the season changes, the tree does not need those leaves (or the chlorophyll) anymore. The green pigment breaks down and the leaves change color. Additionally, in order for the leaf to fall away from the tree, a special layer of cells develops at the end of the stem. The tree then seals that area, cutting the leaf off from the tree where it eventually falls away.

Here’s the cool part. That spot where the leaf falls away? It leaves a mark. And it’s called a leaf scar.

Now, that’s just beautiful.

Y’all, we are covered in leaf scars. There is no way to exist in this life, and certainly, no way to serve Christ, without getting moved in and out of seasons many, many times. I’ve always thought of scars as something that results from a wound. The product of a hard or painful season. Turns out God also “leaves” scars where there was life. Where there was beauty. Where He dropped leaves out of our lives just because it was time for another season. They are reminders of His love and faithfulness.

A great leap happens in our faith when we become grateful for every season, no matter what kind it is or what scars it leaves behind. We develop this gratitude by believing in His love for us in all seasons, difficult or abundant. By this, we come to appreciate every scar because we know He was in it all.

Remember, it was Jesus who used scars to help a doubting Thomas recognize His resurrected body. It is this same Jesus who uses our scars to help us recognize our resurrected lives. Thankful for the scars…

(All music and video rights credited to I AM THEY)

For more of Anne’s mental health and faith content, check out her blog, Bible studies, and speaking engagements!

Originally published October 2019, updated for freshness and clarity.

I don’t think we get to decide which books of the Bible are more important than others (feels like that’s above my pay grade ), but if we did, I would put Job pretty high on the list. As brutal as parts of the story are, Job’s psychological arc is both relatable and helpful when life goes inexplicably sideways. In a nutshell, it sounds something like this:

Job (abridged): “Doin’ great God. Wait, what the heck God? I didn’t do anything wrong! Why is this happening to me? Look at all the good I was doing! Don’t You see I’m suffering?…Okay, okay. I get it. You are God and I am not. Sorry about all the questioning. I trust You.”

This journey from questioning to trust when life doesn’t make sense is often the hardest journey of faith we ever take. And, one we all get to (John 16:33, James 1, Romans 5, Ecc. 3, Matt. 5:45)

However, aside from Job’s unimaginable suffering, the sourest grapes in the story are Job’s three buddies, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. These well-intentioned men start out trying to comfort him (Job 2:11-13) but quickly fall into one of mankind’s oldest traps…trying to explain God.

Buddies (abridged): “Dude, this is not good. What did you do wrong? What sin are you hiding? Just confess so God will let up. No one suffers like this unless they seriously messed up. Stop being so arrogant. What did you do? This is not how God works.”

Adding insult to injury, Job’s buddies poke his wounds with their words, attempting (as so many of us do) to explain why God does what He does. Sadly, their explanations were not only wrong, but they hurt their suffering friend who said, “…miserable comforters are you all!” (Job 16:2)

Then God Asked Job to Do What?!

Assuming you’ve made it this far, this is where my jaw dropped. When I finally got to the last chapter of Job, I was pumped! The end of Job’s suffering was at hand! Except, not yet?

In a plot twist I had not noticed before, God addresses Job’s buddies. “I am angry with you and your two friends, because you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (Job 42:7). Yikes. Then, before He does any physical restoration of Job’s suffering, God asks for something incredible. “My servant Job will pray for you, and I will accept his prayer and not deal with you according to your folly” (Job 42:8b).

Now, while we can read ahead and know God “…blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first” (Job 42:12). Job did not know that. Job, still in a state of severe pain and suffering that he did not know would end, was asked by God to pray for his buddies, his hurtful friends so that God might have mercy on them. And he did. Unbelievable.

May we consider…

• In the midst of our suffering, God may ask us to pray for someone who added to our suffering. (Matt. 5:44-45)
• If you’ve ever been a crummy friend, God has a way back to Him for you.
• In this story, God shows mercy upon both innocent and self-inflicted suffering.
• It is tempting to offer well-intentioned explanations for God, particularly in the face of suffering. Be very careful with this. We may be wrong or cause more pain.
• God decides who, when, and how situations are redeemed. The timing and order may not make sense to us.
• Sometimes God lets us in on what He’s doing and sometimes He doesn’t. Faith is accepting both.

As my journey through Job has finally ended, I find myself even more aware that I do not, nor will I ever, fully understand this God of ours. Oddly, how freeing that is.

Originally published September 2024, updated for freshness and clarity.

For more of Anne’s mental health and faith content check out her blog, Bible studies, and speaking engagements!

Photo by Samantha Sophia on Unsplash, used with permission.

“Hi honey! How was your day?!” This is how I start each day after school if I’m not careful. Of course, it’s a perfectly fine way to greet someone. The sentiment is healthy. We want to know how they are and what they’ve experienced in our absence. We are being loving. We are being invested. And, we are possibly being totally overwhelming without intending to. So, what are we to do when we’ve been missing our kid and they are finally in our care again? Here’s some ideas that are helpful and match up with the science of your kid’s after-school body and brain.

Tips for Better After-School Connection with Your Child

Offer Statements, Not Questions: Questions require a response. Statements do not. The adrenal letdown that happens once a child is out of school and back in your care can leave your kid unable to engage in the way they normally would. So, it can benefit them when we only offer input, rather than asking for something back. Welcoming statements like, “I love you buddy.” “I missed you today.” “I’m so glad to be together again” can be helpful in the transition. These types of statements offer affection and comfort without requiring a response from your depleted kiddo.

Let Them Lead: After a greeting, giving the lead over to your child is critical. When I discipline myself enough to remain quiet until they speak, we typically connect better. Sometimes they fall asleep, which is a huge indicator that talking was not in their ability. Sometimes they remain silent for most of the ride and then start talking near the end. And, sometimes they launch right in with information. It’s different each day because they’ve had different experiences each day. Letting them take the lead with their own self-care and disclosure is both loving and encourages personal leadership.

Provide Creature Comforts: Whether your kid is five or fifteen, after a long day creature comforts are super helpful. Think all the senses. Snack on hand, lovey in their seat, comfy temperature in the car, soothing music on the radio. It is hard for our bodies to relax enough to communicate when we are butting up against physical discomfort. This is not about being overly accommodating. Rather, this is about teaching them how to self-soothe even as they grow up. As adults, we know how to make ourselves a cup of tea or choose the right tunes. We have to teach them what it looks like to create comfortable experiences so they can recover and then reengage.

Empathize: Sometimes we connect more effectively with our children when we simply stop and say, “What would I need in this situation?” When adults have been in a high-energy, performance situation for many hours, we often need a moment to collect ourselves before we can engage in a discussion about the day. It doesn’t matter if we hear about our child’s day at 3:15, 5:15, or 8:15, but that time might make all the difference in how much/how well our kids can communicate. Sometimes they just need lower energy/lower stakes situations (i.e. not face-to-face, before bed with the energy/lights lower) to be able to engage.

The reality is, sometimes our kids are going to willingly share with us, and sometimes they aren’t. If we are focused on our own need to connect we are more likely to operate from our own agenda, possibly bypassing important signals from them. But, if we consider what both parties need, we will be more likely to find solutions that satisfy everyone…eventually. Remember, the measure of connection is not volume or frequency, but rather, quality. Giving our children some control over what and when they share encourages independence, self-agency, and self-care — essential skills they will need as adults. It can be hard to let them lead. But, hopefully, if we do it well when they choose to share it will be richer and more satisfying for all.

Photo by Bruno Nascimento on Unsplash

Originally published October 2020, updated for freshness and clarity.

One of the very first places I ever published written work was Friday Night Wives. I am grateful to continue to write with them today. I don’t include every article I write for them here, but this one I wanted to share. See below for a preview or link here for the full article.

We’ve been living the coach’s wife life a while, twenty years in fact if you count dating and marriage. So, I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me when we were lying in bed a few weeks ago and I heard those familiar, quiet sniffles.

It’s always him who starts first and, it’s always over something small. The kids have come in for another hug. We’re talking about a memory from the summer. Or, there’s a silence when we would be talking. It’s at this point that I know what I’m going to find when I look over.

His eyes filled with tears—and then, of course, mine do too.

Him: “It’s going to be hard.”

Me: “I know.”

Him: “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

Me: “It always is.”

Him: “I’m going to miss you guys.”

Me: “I know. I hope we always miss each other.”

Shoot. It’s hard to even type that, such an intimate moment that marks each football season in our marriage. But, even though there are so many coaching families who are pumped and ready for the season when it starts, there are also marriages like ours. Coaching marriages who know-that-they-know-that-they-know that this is their calling. And yet, it hurts every time you make the transition.

To finish the full post, link here.