The air was thick with tension. My kids’ wet faces flushed with the evidence of the sibling squabble gone wrong. Hurt hearts burst out stinging words. I know they weren’t meant, yet they couldn’t be taken back. Their outbursts shocked me as I internally scrambled through my child-raising handbook for the winning recipe for this situation and remembered that my luck-of-the-draw canned response did not exist. I would need Holy Spirit for this.

Half way up the stairs, I wondered if maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew. My toddler straddled one hip. A laundry basket was hoisted on the other. Those were long, weary days. It was my own choice to trade a corporate job with applause to spare for the glories of full-time motherhood, but I felt like I was sinking.

There was a time the family culture I dreamed of seemed as though it would always be a dream. I found myself as a mom increasingly idealizing what I dreamed of for my family. My husband and I spent hours talking about what was important to us. What did we want our kids to leave home with? What did we want the atmosphere of our home to be like?

I dreamed of my intentionally cultivated home when it seemed like only a fairy tale. I was drowning in diapers and laundry; yet, I felt stirred and alive when I read authors like Sally Clarkson and Edith Schaeffer. I had always appreciated truth, but now I was starting to see that truth is most alive when accompanied by goodness and beauty.

I have a confession. I used to be afraid of the dark. I’m not talking about as a 6-year-old. As a young teenager, I was petrified, but I was usually too ashamed to admit it.

Around the age of 18, I’d outgrown a lot of that, but when alone at home, I’d unexpectedly be filled with terror that someone with ill intent was in our house. I could quote all the scriptures. “God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” “Perfect love casts out fear.”

My fears didn’t want to budge.

You know the feeling. Name your place. Name your memory. When the ordinary, the mundane, the hustle is overtaken by a shiver of the bittersweet. When you remember that your story has not been without adversaries, without valleys or without pain.

A twinge of pain eclipses an unsuspecting moment and I find myself for that second swimming in the history of my life that I never would have chosen if given the choice.

My eyes burn, and I hope the kids don’t notice my glazed disposition as the storms I’ve weathered swirl by to say hello. The hidden mountains of my heart have made their mark on me, and though I walk with a limp, I wouldn’t change a thing.

What does it mean to live with purpose? At times, I swear its thumping in my chest, that sense that some how my little life matters. That anything is possible. Other times, from where I sit staring at a pillow fort, a pile of dishes and a to do list that Santa would balk at (okay, slight exaggeration there), purpose seems just a tad beyond my grasp. But what if eternity is laced through my messy bun, baggy sweater day to day?

Ecclesiastes 3:11 speaks to the idea that God has set eternity in the heart of every man. This is huge.  We were created in the image of God for fellowship with God and partnership with His purposes. It starts as a God-given thirst on the inside of every human being that truly only God can fill. But then something amazing happens when we taste of His goodness.

When I first titled this article “When your attempt to connect with your child falls flat,” my husband joked, “That never happens!” We laughed, because to put it mildly, our attempts to bond with our children don’t always go as planned. Sometimes we go all out trying to do something special only to get a pouty or unimpressed response, or worse, an offensive attitude of entitlement, instead of gratitude. It can be incredibly frustrating, and can leave even the most enthusiastic parents feeling discouraged and a bit puzzled.

Marriage is said to be a three-stranded cord, a covenant between us, our spouse and God. The funny thing is God is the only strand that’s sure to remain the same. When we said those wedding vows, we promised to love each other well, even as we constantly change and grow. That’s why maintaining an attitude and practice of discovery is essential for a thriving marriage. Today, I’d like to offer just a bit of what my husband and I have learned over these past 12 years of imperfect, but thriving marriage. Here are five practices that have helped us stay in discovery mode with each other as we navigate marriage from season to season.

I often stare up at the maple trees outside my kitchen window and wonder how many years they’ve been surviving the storms and ice and, of course, how much sap I could collect if I ever get around to tapping them. My eyes get lost in the fiery banners that grace those branches this time of year. All the while, it’s the unassuming roots beneath that have chiseled through soil and rock, connecting the tree to the very nutrients and water it needs to live and thrive.

Our families are not much different. We want something beautiful for our families, maybe something better than what we grew up with. For all our ideals, we don’t actually know until we wake up a wife or a mom what we’ll actually be like in those shoes. We may find ourselves fumbling for advice, hoping and praying we crack the code on thriving family life. Books, resources and hacks galore – not to mention the advice of friends – offer answers to our many questions. All the while, the most transformative answers lie beneath our feet, rooted in the reality and character of Christ. Without this anchor, discouragement quickly hampers our good-intentioned efforts and the big picture gets lost in the shuffle.

Connection. We crave it, don’t we? Not a half-hazard we share the same last name connection. I’m talking about flourishing in relationship and thriving in family. I love this quote by Brené Brown in her book Daring Greatly.

“I define connection as the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.”

Back in the Garden of Eden, relationship was second only to breathing when Adam and Eve came onto the scene. We are wired for deep, joyful, life-giving connection by our Creator. Although sinned marred the human experience, the power of Christ’s accomplished work has provided us with all we need to cultivate a thriving home from the inside out.

Consider Part 1 in the Connection Series as us grabbing hold of what can be an abstract idea and pulling it down a little closer to home. If we can envision a target of what we’re after in our core relationships, then we can navigate this messy journey with far more clarity and wisdom.

4 Connection Myths + A Big “Why”

Myth #1: Trust is a prerequisite of connection.

Here’s the thing. God’s love can empower us to forgive and invest in relationship, even if trust has been broken. Forgiveness frees up our hearts to love and heal, even if trust still needs to be earned. (This is totally different than subjecting oneself to abuse or deceit. If you are in an abusive situation, please seek professional help.) If you are in a place where trust has been injured, don’t despair. Read on and ask the Lord to give you the strategy and courage for that particular family member.

 Myth #2: Connection means we need to agree on stuff.