Author: Anne Rulo

Today is our wedding anniversary. Nineteen years, two kids, and five towns later, we find ourselves in this thing called marriage. As the day approached, I found myself in a reflective mood. Not about our years together, but instead, about the years before we met. The years when I would hope and dream about the man I would marry. I laugh about it now. Because I was way off base about what I needed.

I had a vision of the kind of man I wanted to marry.  The man I thought would be a good fit for me was (in all glorious self-centeredness) a lot like me. I wanted a guy who was laid-back, a little silly, and spontaneous. I was sure he was a guy who people would label as “sweet”, charming, and who was excited about having children. He would be quick to laugh, soft-spoken, gentle, and deeply in love with me. At least I got that last part right.

I’m sharing this with you today not to tout the accolades of my husband (although I sure do like him). Rather, I hope to make a point about the “why” behind God putting folks together. He does not choose them only for each other. If He did, that would only benefit you and your spouse, and rarely is God that singularly focused. Marriage is designed to be a reflection of Him, a ministry for Him, and a place for us to grow. So, I suspect He picks out folks who best complement His plan, not our own.

To that end, this guy I ended up with? He’s very little of what I thought I wanted. And every bit of what I needed. Thank goodness.

The man God paired me with is intense, pragmatic, and practical. He is deeply passionate about developing people. He has little tolerance for surface conversation, great capacity for deep discussion, and refuses to meander through life. He is purposeful and intentional and finds no greater joy than seeing people reach their potential. He is strong, capable of managing challenges and confrontation, and has to be reminded to smile so that people don’t think he’s grumpy with his buzzed hair and intense brow.

And I’m sure God did this all on purpose…

Because God knew he would be a football coach and we would be a coaching family. The guy I dreamed up wouldn’t have been cut out for this life.

Because God knew I would struggle with post-partum depression. And, I needed a partner brave enough to say having kids was hard for him, too, so I didn’t feel so inadequate.

Because God knew I would ask repeatedly for a puppy I was allergic to, and I needed someone practical enough to say no. And because our coaching ministry would later move us to a home that didn’t allow pets.

Because God knew we would almost lose a child, and we would need strength and the ability to process that experience between us, so we could later minister to others.

Because God knew, one day, He would call me to write and I would need someone brave and visionary enough to say yes to a dream with no goal or income because he believes in me.

Because. Because He knew. God knew who would be able to encourage me toward my design and who would complement our ministry as a family.

Our marriages are about us, and at the same time, they aren’t. They are ultimately about God. They are about the work God is doing in our individual lives, and they are about how our marriages fit into the work He is doing in the world around us. No matter if you ended up with the spouse of your dreams, check in with God and see if there are ways you ended up with the spouse of His dreams.

Happy Anniversary, my love. I’d choose you as my surprise every single time.

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

*Originally published 7/8/2019, updated for freshness and clarity.

In season nine of the hit show Friends, perfectly mismatched couple Monica and Chandler find themselves at a crossroads. Unable to conceive a child, they decide to pursue adoption. At this point, Chandler delivers the following punchline that is equally irreverent, amusing, and beautifully true.

“I want to find a baby that needs a home, and I want to raise it with you. And I want to mess it up in our own specific way.”

I love that line. Even in its Hollywood-ness, it echoes a prayer I started praying over our children from early days. They are words I’ve said countless times. “Fill in the gaps, Lord. Fill in the gaps.” Simple and powerful, I pray it because I know we are “messing it up in our own specific way.” Leaving gaps only God can see. Leaving gaps only He can fill.

Of course, we don’t aim to leave gaps in our children’s upbringing. But, as parents, we are going to make mistakes. We lose our tempers and respond occasionally in ways we shouldn’t. These mistakes are an obvious place to beg God’s mercy. But I want to take the awareness of our limitations one step further. This need for God to fill in the gaps is not only for our mistakes. Even the good we give our children will leave voids in what they need. Yes. Even the good we give our kids is insufficient. How about that for raising your parenting anxiety?! Hang in there, it’s gonna’ be okay…

You see, unlike God, we are limited to the pace and development of time. We are unable to provide everything our children need because we cannot fully see their futures. We do not know what they will face or what skills they may need. We don’t know the “good works which God prepared in advance” for them to do (Ephesians 2:10, NIV). We are raising these children not knowing what God has for them as adults. This leaves us able to only do the best we can, and then ask Him to fill in the gaps with anything else they may need.

As an example, I came from a very kind, low-confrontation home. I knew happiness and little arguing. It was wonderful and gave me a safe, solid foundation…except. In all the kindness, I was left ill-equipped to handle or resolve confrontation. Enter my husband, whose parents encouraged debate, discourse, and disagreement in love. He has taught me how to stay present in the tension and work toward resolution. My loving, low-conflict parents didn’t know I would need that one day. They did what they thought was best and God filled in the gap later for my work as a therapist, marriage speaker, and coach’s wife. He provided what I needed as I needed it.

No matter how we are raising our children, we simply cannot be everything they need. Instead, we can only prioritize what we think is best for them. Those choices may or may not be exactly what they need for their future selves, future relationships, or future professions. In our limitations, we must trust God will send people, experiences, His own teaching, and grace as a supplement. Even more importantly, we must not wish to be all things to our children, for then they will not see or understand the need for reliance on God. For this, we are devastatingly poor substitutes.

So, embrace your insufficiencies, my friends. Whether from the mistakes or from the good, go right ahead and set yourself free from trying to do it exactly right because you never fully can. It wasn’t designed that way. Just do your best and if you feel there is a way you may have left your child wanting, it is a beautiful act of faith to simply pray that God would fill that space in His time, in His way, and in His love. Remember, in our weakness, “His grace is sufficient” and “His power is made perfect” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV). May we all love and parent as best we can…

“Lord, fill in the gaps.”

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

Photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash

(Originally published 9/23/20, updated for freshness and clarity)

Recently, outside of a closed bathroom door, I became keenly aware of something. Arms extended up the trim, leaning forward, I was talking with my daughter when it occurred to me, “I seem to be in this position a lot lately.”

If I remember clearly, the conversation that morning was about an earring issue because the whole wearing earrings thing is fairly new. But, on other mornings it has been a hair issue, an outfit issue, a tummy-doesn’t-feel-good issue, or something else not necessarily new but, my location is.

Because, instead of being inside the door to solve the problem, I’m outside. And, I’m trying to figure out how I feel about that.

To be clear, this burgeoning young lady isn’t refusing to open the door. Instead, she is saying things like:

“I want to do it myself.”
“I want to try on my own.”
“Can you just tell me what to do?”

It’s the voice of independence I have prayed for, with both of my children. However, I also grieve when it manifests in real-life words, behaviors, and attitudes.

Maybe that’s what makes it hurt a little bit more. I’ve done this to myself.

• Like the first time you read a book on your own.
• And when I stopped dressing you.
• When you jumped out of the car and didn’t look back.
• And when you spent the night. And, I didn’t get a call to come get you.

To all the Moms who have gone through this journey (or are going through it now) to the other side of the door, the other side of the text, the other side of the state, or even the other side of the world, it is both beautiful and hard to exist in this space.

And, it’s necessary.

We desperately want children who practice solving their own problems. We want young adults who say, “Teach me how to do it myself.” We want kids who know how to ask for help but also get excited when they can do more, and more, and more…all on their own.

Because, what we ultimately want, is to work ourselves out of a “job” and into life-long healthy, secure relationships with our precious kiddos.

So, as much as it hurts a little with each step you take, press on independent girl.

And, should you need me, I’ll be right here on the other side of the door.

(Originally published April 2024, updated for freshness and clarity.)

Photo by Super Snapper on Unsplash

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

During the holidays I find myself wishing for calm. I want peaceful evenings in front of the tree and pleasant outings to see the lights. I want safe, quiet travels followed by pleasant gatherings with family and friends. I want Christmas morning marked by grateful children, the celebration of Jesus, and toys that cooperate as the instructions suggest. Yes, I want this. But, I have never experienced it. Christmas is usually better in hindsight. In the moment, it’s a bit nuts.

In truth, Christmas will probably involve some of the above paired with my children pestering one another. When we travel, someone will instinctively need to pee because we just passed the last gas station for 30 miles. The nieces and nephews will be super pumped for presents and also crying by 9 a.m. because one of them took Baby Jesus out of the manger. Both cooking and travel will be more rushed than we would like. It’s chaos before, chaos after, with moments of peace dotted in between.

But, what recently gave me pause (and brought me joy!) was realizing I have been idolizing a peaceful Christmas when the first one was anything but. In fact, it is I who decided Christmas should be peaceful. However, Jesus has given us absolutely no such assurance that will be the case. In fact, it is the chaos of our own Christmases that can actually serve to point us to Christ. Because that’s how God works…using our inadequacy to point to His perfect provision.

The Chaos of the First Christmas

In the days leading up to the first Christmas, a divinely inspired set of circumstances upended a few lives. A young girl was pregnant with a baby she didn’t fully know how to explain or understand. Her husband-to-be was perplexed that she was pregnant until an angel materialized and told him to be cool with it. They went ahead and got married while she was pregnant and began their life together. Then, as Mary neared her due date, the government told them to make their way back to their hometown for a census. Just 90 miles on foot or donkey. No big deal. Upon arrival there were no hotel rooms left, she went into labor and gave birth in a barn.

Yep. Chaos.

Then, just for a moment…

The heavens shouted glory.
The shepherds showed up to worship.
The wise men gave gifts.

And the heavens paused to celebrate the birth of the Savior. Peace, for a moment.

But, within minutes, the chaos began again. Just barely post-partum, Mary had to leave in the middle of the night because King Herod planned to kill their newborn. Furious he didn’t catch Jesus, he went about killing a bunch of other babies (Matt. 2:16-18). Literally running for their lives, Mary and Joseph had to learn how to be parents and raise the Savior of the world in a foreign land without family and they didn’t get to go home for a really long time.

If all this was true at the first Christmas, why have I decided mine “should” be peaceful? Why have I idolized something that was never set before me to begin with? Because like most things, we like to control how our lives roll out. We like to set parameters around how particular events are supposed to go. For this reason, mercifully, humans didn’t get to choose how Jesus came into this world because we would have mucked it all up with our priorities. Thank goodness.

May we trust Him with the chaos, the unpredictability, and the moments of joy and difficulty that we don’t even know are coming. This year, I hope it helps us worship the Savior all the more.

If you enjoyed this, please see Anne’s blog for more mental health topics around suffering, reframing difficulty, and making meaning in challenging experiences.

Originally published December 11, 2018, updated for freshness and clarity.

Throughout my childhood, I spent a lot of time in hospitals, doctor’s offices, an occasional peek in an ambulance, and attended quite a few funerals. This sounds like the start to a story of chronic childhood illness or cumulative family tragedies but, nope. I just happen to be the daughter of a nurse, the niece of a doctor and a paramedic, and come from a family with a LOT of people in it. And, sometimes they died. Nothing tragic (usually) just volume.

With this upbringing, imagine my surprise when my new husband from a much smaller family shared he’d never been to a funeral until he was in high school and rarely been in a hospital save busting up his own body in sports. Through this, I found myself in the surprising position of sharing with him how to best support sick and hurting people. Turns out, it is a learned skill.

Twenty years later, the hubby and I are old pros but, now we have children who go with us to the hospital, funerals, and community members’ bedsides. A new generation doesn’t “just know.” They benefit from being taught timeless social skills that will ultimately bless them and those they interact with.

5 Timeless Social Skills We Can Teach Our Kiddos

Visiting Bedsides: A dear friend in her 80s recently had a stroke. As we prepared to visit her we described, in developmentally appropriate language, how she may look and speak differently now. And, we let our kids in on a few details that would help guide their expectations and sense of security such as, hospitals are quiet places, people may be sad but that’s okay, just saying hi or I love you is helpful, and encouraged them to watch and listen to Mommy and Daddy talk so they would learn how to love on someone who isn’t feeling well.

Making Phone Calls: I’m in my 40s and an introvert. I get it. Making phone calls can be awkward and unpredictable. But, our kiddos need to know how to do it both socially and for business. Phone calls to grandparents, family members, and friends are great places to start and, later, order a pizza, let a coach know they won’t be at practice, or double-check when their orthodontist appointment is. While more and more of this becomes available through apps or digital communication (which they also need to practice) we certainly don’t want to be calling their professors or utility companies once they’ve left the house.

Speak for Their Own Needs: As a person who lost her father when she was 16, this is a big one for me. While we all desperately hope to raise our children to adulthood, sometimes, it doesn’t happen. As early as developmentally possible, we can encourage our children to order their own meals at restaurants, explain their own symptoms to the doctor, check themselves in for appointments, and advocate for themselves when something goes wrong. Of course, we are there to serve as guardrails and supplement information as needed, but the stronger they feel standing on their own two feet, the more prepared they are for their futures with, or without, us in it. Owning their own voice is important.

Deescalation: Well, here’s a weird but necessary one. Have you noticed? People can get feisty sometimes while driving, in a store, at an event, or even at a family gathering. In high-emotion situations, kids have no idea how to react unless we teach them. When you receive the one-finger salute from a passing car or happen to bear witness to someone else’s altercation, it is a wonderful opportunity to talk through why you handled it the way you did or what options your kiddos have whenever somebody ends up having a bad day at their expense.

Offer Help: Awww, this is one we’ve only recently been able to fully embrace. While we’ve always encouraged our kiddos to be helpful with little things here and there, my son is now at an age and strength when he can really step in for folks. Recently, he has gotten out of the car twice at Sam’s to help an older person manage something like loading a dozen cases of water or gargantuan bags of dog food. Once, the help was accepted. The person was grateful and he felt good being able to help. In the other, the person was kind but rejected the help citing her desire to handle it herself and organize. He was bummed but learned an important lesson about honoring other’s decisions and independence and, the value of asking even if it doesn’t “work out.”

Raising these little people into adults is not an easy feat. However, as much as we can encourage them to develop independent social skills and stand on their own two feet in developmentally appropriate ways, the better off they (and we) will be. May we help them fly and nourish their roots as long as we have the privilege to do so.

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

*Originally published November 2023, updated for freshness and clarity.

Photo by Jem Sahagun on Unsplash, used with permission

At a recent conference, my husband fielded a question about managing some of the more challenging parts of his career. Because he is a football coach, the focus was on the public nature of his job. However, his answer was more broadly applicable. He said, “When things get tough, it is tempting to isolate. But, instead of isolating, what we really need to do is insulate, carefully choosing the people and practices that will help us get through.”

Insulating rather than isolating. I thought this phrase was brilliant.

For many of us, when something difficult happens, our instinct is to hide. This may be physically hiding, such as not leaving the house or avoiding public interaction or, it may be emotionally hiding, not sharing our pain with others. It may take the form of mentally or psychologically hiding, telling ourselves, “I’m fine, it’s fine, everything’s fine.” Or, even spiritually hiding by avoiding the intimacy of prayer and numbing with other habits.

To that end, this call he made about insulating, rather than isolating, smartly addresses several issues:

• When we are in a crisis, we literally cannot think as well as we do at other times. Our brains are wired to keep us safe when threatened, but they don’t do a great job of being rational at the same time. If we can keep communicating with one or two safe people, we are less likely to be overwhelmed or misled by our thoughts and emotions.
  
  
• Insulating, rather than isolating, honors the fragility of what we are experiencing without totally shutting down our lives. It is about choosing safer people, places, and times rather than not leaving the house at all or holding everyone at a distance.
  
  
• When going through a difficult time, giving ourselves permission to temporarily insulate with safe people and restorative practices is actually a faster, healthier way back to “normal” than isolating or gritting our way through.
  
  
• Insulating, not isolating, honors how we are designed. Social connectedness is scientifically tied to longevity, mental health, physical health, and the ability to cope. While isolating may feel safer, insulating practices actually protect and heal us best.

Encountering difficult times is not a choice, it happens to all of us (John 16:33, Matt. 5:45). However, how we respond to them is. For all of us whose instinct is to isolate physically, mentally, emotionally, and/or spiritually when things get tough, maybe next time we can choose insulation as we heal and the storm blows over.

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

Photo by Amin Hasani on Unsplash, used with permission

*Originally published 7/20/23, edited for freshness & clarity