Blog

I wrote this years ago but goodness, does it hit me in the feels again as summer begins. Blessings to all those men and women who spend their summers and their seasons investing in their players and the community. We love you.

(See preview below or link to Friday Night Wives for the full post.)

Early in our marriage, I accompanied my husband to a Glazier clinic in Chicago. It was my first football clinic, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. We arrived in the hotel parking lot, grabbed our bags, and headed in.

The sight that met me inside those doors was one I will never forget—and one I have not stopped loving since.

There they were, a sea of men.

Old and young, many with excellent beards, all of them wearing football apparel. They milled about carrying bags, checking in, and saying, “Hey Coach!” “Hi Coach!” And,“Hey Coacher, long time no see. How’d the season go?”

As I looked around, my heart swelled. These were my people.

Even though I didn’t know them, I knew I loved all of them. It felt like the way a sister loves a brother, or a mother loves her son, because that’s exactly what it was. A room full of brothers. A room full of sons.

A room full of kindred spirits who were gathered together because they were doing the same work we were, all over the country.

As I reflect on that moment, and the many clinics we’ve been to since then, I wanted to highlight a few of these coaches and why I love them. So here’s to you, the coaches I’ve loved before.

The Young Coach

You, precious 22 or 23-year-old, I see you. I see you looking around at all these men, wondering what your coaching career might look like. I see you attend the sessions with your heroes. I see the stars in your eyes and the insecurity in your youth. We love you so much.

We may even especially love you in your singleness because some coach’s family somewhere gets to take care of you for a bit through dinners, holidays, or a Sunday afternoon watching ball until your own wife comes along. We love you, young coach.

The Old Coach

You, ol’ ball coach, I almost can’t see you for the tears in my eyes. I see you standing there, slightly hunched, slower than the men on your staff. Your voice is gruff from years of coaching, and you aren’t trying so hard to fit in anymore.

You’ve learned what’s important and you’re cool with going to bed early while the young guys stay up shooting the breeze. You have literally impacted the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of young men, and somehow survived the many minefields of the career. We love you, old coach.

The Assistant Coach

You, right-hand man, are more valuable than you know. You may want the big job someday, or you may be content with your role as it is. Regardless, you provide a foundation for your head coach that he can never fully thank you for. The hours of film, the days in the off-season, the boys you love with everything you’ve got even though your name is never the one on the interview. Dependable. Steady. Always ready. You are the man. We love you assistant coach.

The Head Coach

You, a leader in the school. You, a figurehead in the community. I see you, and so does everybody else. You take the praise, but you also take the bullets. When the team does well, you praise the boys and the men on your staff. When the team does poorly, you say you need to do better. You spin more plates in the air than you can count and you need a secretary, although you can’t afford one. You sometimes miss the days when you could just coach and love kids, but you know that your leadership is exponentially impacting all involved. We love you head coach.

For additional messages to the Line Coach, Skills Coach, and Atypical Coach, read the full post here.

As we enter the emotion of graduation season, I want to refer back to a little section of Scripture that touched my heart in an unexpected way this Easter. It’s found where the author describes the reaction of the women at the empty tomb:

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.  He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”

So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples (Matt. 23:5-8, NIV).

“Afraid yet filled with joy.” I’m certain this was not my first time hearing those words. But, for whatever reason, this relatable mix of emotions hit me afresh. It felt like, “Of course. Afraid yet filled with joy. No matter what century it is, women know exactly what it means to experience those two feelings at the same time.”

My next thought (maybe because it’s spring?) was for a very specific group of Moms. A group of Moms who, because I am a high school coach’s wife, are near and dear to my heart. They are the Moms of the graduates. Their specific mix of “afraid yet filled with joy” is something I get the privilege to witness every year because the graduation of your children is one of those times when “afraid yet filled with joy” feels completely accurate.

And so, Moms of graduates, in this time of busyness, reflection, emotion, and ceremony I wanted to share what came to my mind for you on that Easter morning. I hope it brings you comfort and a smile.

For the Moms of Graduates

You’ve done well. No matter whether your kid is graduating with honors or barely scraped by, he or she is probably going to be all right. It’s amazing, pretty much all of them figure it out—eventually. Yes, even the squirrely ones.

The whole transition to being co-adults is a little weird. It’s bizarre to not have the same direction or control you’ve had for the past 18 years. But, it also seems like many families make the transition easier than they thought they would. You will find your way forward in this awkward, neat new stage.

That said, the next four to six years will likely be a mix of, “How much do I help?” and, “Oh sheesh, I hope they’re going to be okay.” But, also at some point in those years, most of you eventually take a deep breath and say, “Huh, looks like they’re going to make it.” So many of these kids who sometimes couldn’t get out of bed or turn their homework in on time do become the most incredible, responsible adults.

You’ve got some really neat moments ahead of you. Things like when they get hired for their first “grown-up job”, weekends and summers at home that feel (mostly) like old times, and “I met someone” who turns out to be the one. It kind of feels like your heart and your eyes are trying to focus as this child of yours turns into a grown-up who manages to capture even more of your heart, tenderness, and respect.

And, now for my favorite stuff. I want you to know that I love seeing you again when we each have a few more wrinkles, you hug me in your fancy dress and I say, “That was a beautiful wedding.” It is also one of my very favorite things when I see mini-me’s of that 18-year-old we knew and you tell me your new title is Gigi/Nana/Granny or whatever else he or she has named you. Really, that part is so much fun.

In short, as your kid graduates, I just want you to hear from someone who has two decades of experience watching graduate after graduate grow up, this really is so much more of a beginning than an end. I know you may feel “afraid yet filled with joy.” But, there are so many beautiful things ahead.

Good job Mama of the graduate. You made it.

PS – For the Mamas I’ve loved who did not or do not get the experience above, I’ve not forgotten you. In fact, my heart is especially tender toward you today. I know some of you are still hoping for a turnaround. And, for others, your journey in this way has ended. I know that graduation season can be a tough one as people hope for futures you and your kiddo didn’t get. Please know you are loved and you and your graduate are remembered and prayed for today.

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

*Originally published May 9, 2023

Enjoyed writing a 40,000 flyover about mental health for this month’s mental health awareness. See below for a preview or read the full post here. Thanks to Missouri Partners in Prevention for the opportunity to continue to write with you!

Year after year, the culture improves in awareness, advocacy, and accessibility of mental health knowledge and services. In that same breath, we also acknowledge that great strides are needed. Concerns related to insurance, availability of providers, and a lack of health equity mean we have much work to do. Despite these challenges, we wanted to take some time to provide some broad-stroke information about mental health that will remind us all how important this month of awareness is and how we can be a part of the solution.

General Mental Health Information

• Mental health is a broad term that refers to a person’s psychological, social, and emotional well-being.
• Mental health is affected by our genetics and life experiences (nature + nurture).
• Just like everyone has a degree of physical health, everyone has a degree of mental health.
• “Mental wellness” refers to feeling generally positive about one’s self and circumstances paired with the ability to cope with daily activities and challenges. Mental wellness is also sometimes referred to as an active process of pursuing “mental fitness.”
• In contrast, “mental illnesses” are disorders of mood, thinking, and/or behavior that require criteria for diagnosis via the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5).
• It is important to note that while everyone occasionally feels sad, angry, grieves, and has mood changes, what often distinguishes temporary adjustment difficulties from a mental disorder is the intensity, duration, and interference with one’s ability to cope/function.

Mental Health Statistics

It is hard to offer confident mental health statistics. The reasons for this are many. Mental health care is still, in some ways, a developing field with a complicated history. Many mental health disorders used to be criminalized or used as grounds for removing people from society. And, while brain mapping, chemical studies, and blood samples can tell us some things about a person’s mental health experience, much of what we know still comes down to someone’s described experience.

For this reason, as much as mental health disorders are physical health experiences that can improve with therapy and/or medication, it is harder to point to a test number or result as a guide for treatment. Scientists are working hard to find more concrete ways to understand mental health disorders, so providers have increased ways to be more accurate and effective with treatment and medication. And, of course, many people who are suffering don’t (or can’t) seek treatment. All of this means that it’s just not as easy to say how many people have a mental health disorder as it is to pinpoint a number for a physical illness.

With these parameters in mind, the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) cites that 1 out of every 5 people, or 20% of the population experiences a mental illness. Other organizations offer numbers closer to 1 out of every 4 or 25% of the population. Some other commonly cited statistics are:

• The symptoms of many mental health disorders often first appear in someone’s late teens or early 20s although they can occur outside of this range. It is important to remember that experiences such as trauma can bring on mental challenges at any age.
• People can have co-occurring disorders (i.e., depression and anxiety) that require support for both concerns.
• Depression and anxiety are the most commonly experienced mental health disorders.
• Suicide is often connected to the mental health diagnosis of depression and/or substance abuse disorder. Men are more likely to die by suicide while women are more likely to attempt it. The discrepancy is typically associated with the difference in the lethality of the method.
• We have barely scratched the surface. There are hundreds of classified forms of mental disorders in the DSM-5.

What Part Can We Play in Mental Health Care?

To finish the full post link here…

*Originally published May 22, 2022

Christmas 2022 fell on a Sunday. And while that isn’t especially remarkable, several people highlighted that the next time Christmas would fall on a Sunday is 2033. Gracious, how different our lives will be by then.

When that Sunday rolls around, my son will be 22, and my daughter, 18. Pending all of the hopeful/traditional things occurring, my husband and I will be empty nesters, edging towards retirement, intentionally transitioning into all the things the back half of life holds.

What brought this reflection back with roaring clarity was the news we heard today. A dear friend, diagnosed with cancer only three weeks ago, has already passed away. The whiplash of this reminded me afresh, we are guaranteed nothing beyond the very breath we are taking. And, I want to make sure we’re living that way. Thankfully, the Christmas of 2022 already started that process.

Following all the discussion that year about how different life will be when Christmas again falls on a Sunday, our family made a small but poignant change. On the dry-erase board in our kitchen, where information changes regularly, one thing remains the same. It reads, “Ten years from now…” and our future ages: Us in our 50s, kids in their late teens and early 20s. It will be here before we know it.

For that reason, it serves as a reminder, a touchstone, and a guide to ask questions like this:

• Ten years from now, what vacations do we want to have taken with our children?
• Ten years from now, how will we want to have spent time with our parents?
• Ten years from now, will it matter that we did this extra activity?
• Ten years from now, would that job opportunity be a good choice?
• Ten years from now…will this matter? Will that matter? What really matters?

Ten years from now…

Such a simple reframe and yet, whenever we follow that answer, it is almost always the most satisfying solution because it helps us align with our deepest values.

Whether it’s ten minutes, ten days, or ten years from now, I want so very much to be living true to what really matters in the great big scheme of it all because we only get one opportunity at this thing called life. May we do it well.

*Oh, and hey Ryan, we miss you buddy. Sure wish we had another 10 years. You were one of the really good ones.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash, used with permission.

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

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.

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!

Welcome, dear reader, to a quick reflection on “garage sale season” and the unexpected ways it can help us love, serve, and honor one another.

Oddly, garage sales are one of the only times in modern society when people will just “show up” at your home. Depending on your set-up, they are not just in front of your house but likely in your driveway, garage, or even inside. It is a socially intimate stretch for the garage sale-er and the garage sale-ee to exist together within the physical, emotional, and psychological space normally reserved for family and friends.

Having done only a few garage sales myself, I am always surprised by the number of people who come not only to shop, but to talk. Making their way around, they don’t just ask about prices. They also sometimes ask about the purpose and history of items or offer what memories they brought up for them. Specifically, I want to share about two people I’ve met over the years. We’ll call them Mike and Carol.

Mike, a thin gentleman in his 60’s, inquired about a yellow bike. He shared that he had recently lost over eighty pounds following gastric bypass surgery and hoped to continue his health journey. Then, pausing briefly and tearing up, he also mentioned it looked like his Dad’s bike, and he missed him very much. It was so neat to hear his story, congratulate him, and offer comfort for his Dad’s memory. He walked that bike to his car with a smile.

Carol, a grandma, was definitely not the typical grandma’s age. She looked, patiently searching for toys and books for her seven grandchildren. Of the seven, she shared that only one was biologically related. Even so, she had recently taken all of them in to help support her now-sober, degree-seeking daughter-in-law after a tough start in life. She was clearly proud of them and there was no suggestion of a burden. I was touched by her generosity and helping her love them with “stuff” we didn’t need anymore.

In addition to the exchanges from that day, I’ve also enjoyed some items and stories from garage sales. Things like baby items for my son after learning I was pregnant. Fifty-cent toys for nieces and nephews who then heard about “who used to use that toy.” And, the “big kid bike” conversation because the seller’s kid was now past the stage mine was entering. In short, all of it was more than a transfer of goods. It was the honoring of one another’s journeys.

So, as the days grow warm and neighborhood garage sale days arrive, let us not go out “just because.” Instead, may we enter those driveways and welcome people to ours with intention. Whatever items we are done with not only leaves us with “stuff” to offer but also stories—and maybe even some wisdom and love to pass along.

It is in this exchange of connection, not simply things, where the hidden ministry in garage sales is found. May we keep our eyes open for the deals—and the opportunities.

Photo by Charisse Kenion, used with permission

Originally posted March 24, 2022. Updated for freshness & clarity.

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. I do so 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 full of celebrations per my husband’s Lutheran upbringing. Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday, they were all new to me. It was neat to add those extra days of understanding, sweetening the crescendo up to a victorious Easter celebration.

Unsurprisingly, 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 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.

Considering these extra pieces of the Easter story, a sweet lesson came to mind. Investigating these more obscure days in Jesus’ last week on earth is a simple reminder that there is much to learn about Him “in between the highlight reel.” Looking closer, we learn more about this important week and other experiences He lived. And, looking closer, we get not only the Sunday School level of Jesus but also see some of the finer nuances of His character. Just like when we spend time getting to know people, when we take the time to know God better, 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, 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 also has this cool application for our daily lives.

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!

As one of the most frequently repeated concepts in the Bible, God knew we needed a lot of reminding to not fear, not be afraid, not worry, etc. And, for so many things I feel like I can get on board with that. But, for a handful of others, it feels extra hard. Like health concerns. And sick parents. And losing jobs. Oh yeah, and our children. As far as I’ve been able to discern, there is apparently no asterisk in the Bible that says, “Do not worry (*except about your children).” How the heck are we supposed to do that?!

As a counselor, I know that simply telling someone not to worry is not super helpful. We want strategies! And, I don’t believe for one second that God is insensitive to how hard it is for us to not be afraid or not worry about something as precious as our kids. Of course, He’s given us some obvious tools like prayer and specific verses about parenting. But, He’s also tucked away some additional gems. I wanted to share just one I came across the other day.

Check out this oft-quoted section of Psalm 127 here:

³ Children are a heritage from the Lord,
    offspring a reward from him.
⁴ Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
    are children born in one’s youth.
⁵ Blessed is the man
    whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
    when they contend with their opponents in court.
(Ps. 127:3-5)

And now, the verses just before that:

¹Unless the Lord builds the house,
    the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the guards stand watch in vain.
² In vain you rise early
    and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
    for he grants sleep to those he loves.
(Ps. 127:1-2)

That’s it. The entirety of Psalm 127 is five verses, half about children and half about laboring in vain. I propose this is not by accident. God knows how so many of us labor “in vain” over our children thinking that if we just keep trying hard enough, we will finally manage to be and do and give everything they need—until we are exhausted. And, in doing so, forget He is the one who really does all that.

Remember, when used correctly, God’s Word always intends to bring about freedom. Consider the applications offered here…

(v.1a) Unless the Lord builds our homes, we are just spinning our wheels. Exhausting ourselves to make sure our children have everything we think they need, access to every opportunity, and avoidance of every hardship leaves little room for how He might build their lives. He offers us the freedom to trust He is building them, rather than exhausting ourselves to make sure they experience “our” best standards.

(v.1b) Rather than perpetually standing guard over their lives, we could find ourselves able to breathe knowing that God is watching over them, with a better view than we will ever have. He offers us the freedom to reduce the intensity of our vigilance, knowing that He is with them as they grow in independence, ability, risk, etc. Visualizing Him standing guard brings great peace.

(v.2) And, this final part from verse two really got me. What if, as parents, we wholesale reject the idea that good parents are always supposed to be exhausted? Instead, He offers us permission to accept help and pursue normal human amounts of rest instead of rising early, staying up late, and toiling. For He loves us, and “He grants sleep to those He loves.” A rested mind is far less likely to fall into irrational worry.

Whatever you are “toiling in vain” for today, please know you are not alone. Each of us has things that fall into this *very-hard-not-to-worry category because fear is such a strong motivator.

May each of us seek to remove whatever our “worry asterisks” are. And, may the permissions and reminders given in this Psalm help us reduce the ways we are “laboring in vain”, allowing God to build, guard, and grant us the rest He designed.

PS – For those who are interested in an extra fun fact, Psalm 127 is one of 15 Psalms known as “Songs of Ascent.” These were the songs sung by Hebrew pilgrims to encourage them as they headed uphill to Jerusalem for annual festivals at the Temple.

A word from God designed to encourage a routine uphill journey toward worship? If that’s not a message to bless parenting I don’t know what is.

Photo by Xavier Mouton Photographie on Unsplash, used with permission

Originally published 2/8/2023, updated for freshness & clarity.