ten ways to raise a leader

Simple ways to teach leadership skills to our children - skills that are about personal leadership and sticking to it in life. Personal leadership needs to come first as one must know how to lead themselves before leading others. Here are just ten ways to raise a leader.

1. Model the Positive. We live in a glass is half empty type of world. It's easy to notice what isn't right and to lost focus on what is working. Even if you tend to lean towards the pessimistic side of viewing the world make an effort to model the positive with your children. This is a choice - a finding joy type choice - in life.  It doesn't mean being faux happy, but rather means choosing to be positive or see the good first in a situation. I like to call it giving the situation the benefit of the doubt.

2. Set Goals. Work with your children in all ages to set goals. When they're little the goals can be as simple as I'm going to make my bed in the morning or put all my books on the shelf at night. As they get older the goals can be more complex, more focused driven, but just as critical. As you set the goals make it a point to work with them to achieve their goals. Everyone needs someone behind them motivating them.

3. Motivate. Again. Motivate. This goes along with seeing the positive and setting goals. Sometimes kids move away from the consequence - you don't clean your room you don't go outside - but they also move towards rewards - you keep your room clean for one week and on Friday we'll get icecream. Figure out what motivates your child. But, in that motivation make goals that your child can work towards. And stick with the plan. Don't fudge on awarding when they job isn't done. That doesn't teach leadership.

4. Let them Fail. Funny coming from me the mom who wrote the Dear Mom Who Feels Like She is Failing letter. The truth is that our children need to not win at everything because it is essential that they learn the skill of pulling up their bootstraps and trying again. I've learned the greatest lessons in life in the moments where I feel like I've failed. This teaches lessons - trying again, what didn't work - and it cultivates strength and character. Be there for them, motivate them to try again, and encourage them to see those moments of not winning as learning times.  Then put out your hand, dust them off, and help them try again. And remember just as I write to you about not defining yourself with the words "I'm failing" do the same for your children. Words are power.

5. Expect Results. Do not establish rules, goals, and boundaries and simply let them achieve the result without expecting work. I know that it is one of those hard moments when we observe our children sad because something didn't work or their team didn't win or they didn't get the reward. They absolutely need to be taught the art of hard work and setting goals while sticking to goals. Are there instances to offer grace? Absolutely. But, as parents we have the gift to teach our children follow through. Expect results. Wherever you set the bar is where the aim will be - put the bar high - believe in them - and help them work to achieve results.

6. Establish Rules. And keep them. One of the worst things that I've learned to do as a parent - besides offering grace and listening - is being a bit wishy-washy with regards to rules. That? That teaches not doing 100%, or less respect for adults, and again that lack of follow through. Here's the deal - don't bombard your kids with 25 new rules. Pick one. Maybe you want to work on everyone using quieter voices in your home. Write the rule: in our home we use kind voices. Don't say: don't yell - it just reinforces yelling. Instead reinforce the action that you want to see developed. But, establish the rule and keep it.

7. Inspire. Inspire your kids by your own choices. Let them see you excel. Let them see you cultivate your own interests, desires, and dreams. They can be anything - from hosting a book club at your home, to knitting that scarf that you've been working on, to painting, to writing, to decorating their room, to working in your yard - the options are limitless. Simply pursue your goals and let them see you working towards and completing something concrete.

8. Listen. Slow down your agenda to listen to their hearts, dreams, and goals. Do not dismiss the dreams at first. Let them dream. The worst thing for a dreamer is to hear why it won't work. Then after they've dreamed help them figure out how to make it work. That lemonade stand. The gifts for the kids at the hospital. How to keep their room clean. How to get those good grades. Begin listening to them when they are young and it will set a pattern of open communication in your home.

9. Don't Give Up on Them. Fight for your kids. In the thick, thin, good and bad days. You are their strongest cheerleader. Don't keep a record of all of their wrongs - let them grow from the mistakes. You must fight for their hearts. Just like you as a mother need to hear how much you matter your children need this as well. Do not ever give up on them.

10. Be Involved. Plain and simple. Be involved in their lives. There is no notification on your iphone that is so important that it takes away from listening to them. Watch your posture. Are you the distracted mom? The one always on her phone? The one with just one more thing to do until you play with them? Stop. Be involved. And this challenge is for me as well - the busier I get the easier it is to push off the real importants. The real important is that you and I are there for our children and investing in their lives.

Ten ways that you can teach leadership skills to your children. Keep their heart first, fight for their heart, and be the one to inspire and motivate. Invest in them - you can do it - this world needs those with convictions, the ability to lead, and to take personal responsibility. And while your teaching this - teach finding joy as well. Seeing the good and the gifts is a life long and valuable skill.

What are some ways you teach leadership?

to subscribe by email - click HERE.

Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

dare to live.

As I was prepping my list of favorite moments for Friday words kept running through my head about life and living and being bold. And I knew instead of writing my normal Friday post that I needed to share those words with you. The words?

Dare to live.

I know, it sounds odd - dare to live. Right now, you, in whatever stage of life you find yourself, I'm telling you dare to live awake, alive, boldly, and with joy. Yet, I think most of us live a life that doesn't really feel alive. And some of us live a bit asleep.

I know because I've done it. It's like this: Wake up. Go through the motions. Live with a smile on your face and yet inside you're sitting looking at life not feeling. Not feeling joy. Happiness. Sadness. Just plain and simple not feeling much. It's seems safer, right? After all, life can feel dull or boring or sometimes it hurts. I didn't want to feel all the hurt in life so I instead chose to just not care.

I don't care. I'd mumble it to myself during the day. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care - it was like a mantra, a mindset that I tried to cling to. But, deep down I really did care and really wanted to live life loving the little things. But I also knew that caring meant allowing myself to feel - joy, sadness, regret, hope, worry - and I knew I was living a life half asleep.

I had to choose. You've heard me write about the power of choosing, the power of your mindset - so today - I want to encourage you in the midst of whatever you are in to stop and to look at how you are looking at life. Are you living awake? Are you living feeling joy?

If not - step back and dare to live.

It's a dare. Living awake and boldly means making a choice that recognizes that you might fall, that life isn't perfect, and that you will feel hurt. But, when one doesn't allow emotion in life then you can get stuck in a perpetual cycle of numb. For me, I finally, about five years ago, realized that I don't want to live numb anymore - I was missing out on too much, too many moments, too many gifts tucked into the middle of a life that didn't look perfect, and yet I was still blessed to live.

So I choose to dare to live. Again.

And in that dare - joy finally returned as I allowed myself to begin to live a life not dependent upon stuff for happiness, but rather the time given, the moments, the interactions - those things became gifts. And with that, this zest for life and a tenacious drive to live a life of wonder, hope, and embracing the moments also returned.

Don't live life numb. Dream. Be bold. Take risks. Embrace moments. Find joy.

Start. Jump. Let yourself feel joy. In the ups and downs and everyday moments.

You can do this.
You can dare to live.

*****
to subscribe by email - click HERE.
My favorite thing this week - the challenge to really live awake, alive, and seeking joy.

Do you have favorites? Moments? Blessings? Feel free to link below. This is week 91 of sharing of favorite things. Thanks for joining.

Images and original content are sole property of Rachel Martin and may not be used, copied or transmitted without prior written consent.

why it is okay to take a mom break.

We run on empty so often.

You run on empty. I run on empty. It's the nature of our society to push everything until the last drop - and then we are beyond worn out. We wait to get gas till the light warns us that the tank is empty, we save the last drops of milk, we scrape the peanut butter from the sides of the jar - and we do the same with our self. We push, and give, and push, and give, and we often ignore the warning lights telling us to refuel.

It's hard to remember that you matter when you're exhausted.

I look at culture and society from years past - I look at the fellowship that women had - time together, helping each other, and moments of breaks. We don't have that in our culture. We have weeks that are crammed full - packed with tremendous amounts of things to do and pressures and deadlines and never ending to-do lists. While we have more conveniences we have more to keep up with.

Moms, there is no guilt in needing a break.

I believe,  in order to give, you must make sure that you are replenished. If your tank is dangerously low all the time then you will lose sight of the beautiful role that motherhood has in your life and the lives of your children. It can slip into drudgery. And in the drudgery will come discontent, sadness, fatigue, and disillusionment. I know. I've felt it.

So I've learned to take breaks.

Yoga here. Coffee time. And then, last summer, by an absolute gift, a week in South Carolina with some sweet girlfriends. We had grand plans - go dolphin watching, visit shops, tour - and yet, we spent hour after hour after hour sitting at the edge of the Atlantic with the surf washing over us. We just sat. And talked. And sat. And decompressed.

Moms need moments of still.

Now, I know it's hard. I cried when I left home for those eight days last year. But, I came home better, stronger, and more intentional.

This post isn't about hopping on a plane and leaving. It's really not. It's about recognizing the need for rest and recharging that is so easy to overlook. You see, for years I didn't give myself permission to leave -- I'd come up with excuse after excuse after excuse to not take care of myself in the name of motherhood. And I became worn out. So today,  I'm talking about being willing to recognize that some days it is okay to let the kids watch a movie and you grab your favorite book and a cup of chai and you just read. Maybe you schedule a date with your friends to grab coffee. Maybe you go in the backyard and work on your gardens. Recharge.

You must take care of yourself.

If you don't you can burn out. I did. I just didn't realize it because I was so stubborn in thinking that the right way to be a mother was to never stop giving and I forgot to take care of me. So today, I'm giving you permission to give yourself a break. It doesn't make you less of a mother. Not at all. In fact, I believe that by cultivating space within your schedule to take care of you that you will be a better, more intentional, mother.

I write. I play piano. I speak. I read. I garden.  And that is all good. It's part of who I am - a creative individual. I want my children to see me take care of myself, to cultivate interests, and to enjoy the gift of motherhood.

Recharge, sweet mother, recharge.

This is my encouragement to you.

to receive finding joy via email simply click subscribe.

what can you do today to be more intentional?

Yesterday, I was given the opportunity to share my heart at a local MOPS group. It was wonderful being in this room, full of moms eager to sit in fellowship with each, and to talk a bit about my story and to offer words of encouragement. These moms were there, in it together, ready to learn and to embrace each other in their motherhood journey.

I shared with them ten simple things to make your day more fun {don't worry, I'm writing it up into a post} and the main item, besides not comparing, was to learn to step back and be intentional. I know, I know, intentional. It's kind of a buzz word, and yet, I truly do believe it is a critical word for us mothers to embrace. You see, intentional isn't trendy, it's actually truth.

When you live with an intentional heart you cultivate memory moments within your home.

Intentionality is this stepping back, this opening of our hearts that allows us to embrace the present, learn from the past, and plan for the future. It's easy to race through life either defining today based on years past or looking so much to the future that we miss the gift of today or being so focused on the now that we don't remember to celebrate the gift of normal.

Motherhood is about balancing grace and about learning to be intentional with our days. Because, lets face it - we all have those harder days. We have those feeling like we failed days, and not feeling like we measure up , and days where we wish we could throw in the un-throwable {because it's probably in the wash} towel of motherhood. And that's okay. But, even with those days, we can learn to be intentional. It just takes planning it on the good days. So if today's a hard day - do one thing and believe me when I tell you that you matter. If today's one of those days that seems to be going okay, then step back, just for a moment, and think about what is making today work. Be intentional and thoughtful with your time.

So now, my question for you, which I asked from those wonderful moms sitting in the room early on a Monday morning, is what can you do today to be more intentional? I ask you this as an encouragement, as a motivation to do that one thing and do it well. So right now, as you sit there, think of three things that you can do to be more intentional. Maybe it's reading that book three times in a row. Maybe it's turning off the computer for a large window of time. Maybe it's sitting at the table with your kids while they eat lunch versus racing to get the kitchen cleaned.

To be intentional we have to act. And today, that is my encouragement for you.

Here are my three intentional ideas for today.
1. Read for 20 minutes to the little boys.
2. Turn off the computer from 9-12.
3. Write down five gratitude things.

How about for you? What are three things that you can do today to be more intentional?

to receive finding joy via email simply click subscribe.

two steps forward, no steps back

I have learned to be flexible.

Seven kids alone teaches me how to let the schedule adapt.

Samuel, and his medical adventures -- leading up to the diagnosis of Celiac Disease -- has really taught me to take it one day at a time.

So now, I've had to remind myself that it's okay if the "to-do" list doesn't get accomplished. That in the scheme of things those things don't really matter.

Yesterday, Samuel was diagnosed with pneumonia. All from that bummer cold that we've been dealing with for the last week.

I've dealt with it before. I don't like it. But, we will manage, and Samuel will get better. Until then?  We cook easier meals -- including the wonderful gluten free rotisseire chicken that our local grocery store makes. We do laundry only as needed -- and let the rest pile up. We switch up our academics. More reading, more math pages, less hands on projects. We'll watch educational movies. And take extra naps.

It feels like two steps forward and a step back. But, I guess in the scheme of life we're still moving forward and not really taking that step back. Living the life the Lord has blessed us to live. Looking for joy in the little things. Like the pharmacist at Target who knows Samuel and calls him "her sweet boy" as she's checking me out. That Chloe and Hannah , once again, decided to make special meals and help with dinner. Watching Elijah sing songs to Samuel as he falls asleep. Grateful for the rocking chair -- even though we've had it since we were married and it's horribly out of style -- that I can sit in with Samuel and rock back and forth. Loving the changing of leaves around. Or the smells of autumn as they drift in the house. Grateful for nebulizer machines and albuterol as well. And for doctors who care and listen.

I guess I'm not really stepping back much at all. We're still going. The path may be a bit different than the one I had tentatively planned out several weeks ago. That's okay.

I'm grateful for today - and that real soon, my sweet Samuel, will be looking just as good as he does in the pictures in this post. And, of course, that gives me good reason to share my new favorite picture of him once again with you all. Love that boy.

*****
for those of who you saw my status update on my facebook page and/or twitter about Samuel thank you so much for praying for him.

stones

So many years.
So much time.

We'll do that tomorrow one thinks.
I'm busy with my important today we tell ourselves.
Just a minute we say.

And the years keep ticking by.

Year
after
Year
after
Year.

One after another
year
after
year.

What if the tomorrows became the todays?

The fun stuff, the laughter, the sitting still?
The helping others, the giving of self?
The change? The concern?
The should haves and could haves?
The slowing downs?
The taking charge?
The letting go of the not really right now importants?
The playing with them?
The letting go of the in a minutes and just a seconds?
The embracing of today?
This moment?

Oh, to remember, to live today fully.
To walk through life, and it's ups and downs with joy.
To be aware.
Awake.
To live.
To really live.

Intentionally.

chairs

Well, I'm home. And with being home it brings a flood of emotions -- happy and sad and grateful and nostalgic and exhausted {is that an emotion?} and melancholy and more.

Yet, here I sit tonight, with dinner being prepared, and the laundry churning, and remnants of vacation, of Woodland, slowly being put away. The marshmallows from the smores are sitting on the table and the decks of cards scattered on the island and piles of sand rest by the front door. Waiting to be swept up. So that "real" life can resume.

Vacations make me think about life. I begin to ponder how I spend my time -- how I tend to live in that frenzied sort of existence -- and then how just as quickly I can live in a small one bedroom cabin, with dirt roads, and heavy screen windows, and a lake 30 feet away, and a fraction of my earthly possessions and I can feel more content than I do with all my stuff.

Peaceful.

All the stuff that I think I need to do and have and go and be doesn't really bring happiness. The stuff? It becomes more that I need to manage, put-away, take care of, sort, sell, donate, clean, launder, read, and deal with. And that takes away time from my family.

And that brings me to chairs. Those brightly colored chairs from the 50's were the chairs where my family gathered and sat less than 24hours ago. All of us -- even though there was packing to do -- we took our last moments up at the lake to sit together, around a fire, and live. It's a celebration of family. And of the real important.

I want to live knowing that I've spent time sitting in those chairs -- wherever they may be -- with my family.

It's a slowing down.

I don't want to lose the lesson of Woodland.

I just want to sit for a moment longer.

when the plans shift

I am not good at readjusting well. I like my routine -- I like my memories. And when things shift it's easy to sit in them and let that dampen the entire day or week.

The Suburban died -- you know, the big truck where almost my entire family fits and where we can cram loads of beach goodies and fishing poles and towels and stuff in it with a canoe slapped on top and a trailer behind.  And we leave in a couple days for vacation.

{last summer}

Initially, I wanted to just get mad and lament and sing the "why me and woe is me" song. And I did. A little bit. Then after I stepped back {and reread my purple petunias post} I was reminded that even with  the dead truck -- although incredibly inconvenient -- we are still going on a vacation. Maybe we're needing to borrow a vehicle -- and yet, that too, is a blessing -- that we have a friend willing to let our family of nine pile in it for a week trek up to the lake.Very brave, I might add.

{mustache man last summer on the boat}

Then this week, Elijah -- mustache man --, has been sick. With really vague symptoms. Sleeping a great deal, fevers, and strange pains. My mothering radar has been on overload for the last six months since Samuel has been diagnosed with Celiac Disease. Todd had to remind me that kids just get sick and most of the time it's just sick. But, as days pass and it's only him under the weather and the vacation departure date creeps closer I feel that nervous anxiety.

Truth? We can still do vacation even if he's under-the-weather. There are doctors up in the beautiful north country of Minnesota. I can still mother and accomplish all I have to do. And all those to-do's -- the packing and laundry and sorting and organizing and cleaning -- are actually blessings. I just need to keep my mind aware of it as I race from thing to thing to thing to thing.

Remember the blessings, Rachel, remember the blessings.

So that leaves me sitting here this morning with a choice. I could easily complain about everything we have not fitting or being frustrated about the truck or worrying about Elijah or I could rejoice in the gifts that abound. In Samuel running around. That we are blessed with a vacation. That I have family -- extended family -- that vacations with us that I love to be around.

Sometimes having the plans shift helps regain gratitude.

And this morning, I am resting in grateful.

{the beautiful Kabekona Bay in Northern Minnesota at sunset}

stillness

There are days where I lose stillness.

More than quiet. More than neatness. More than being alone.

It's stillness of mind.


Most days my mind works on hyper-drive -- racing from thought to thought to thought to thought. And as it races I begin to race from thing to thing to thing to thing. And then as I'm racing around I begin to think that I'm late or behind or I need to do this or I must do this or is the laundry is done or the bills need to be paid or I need to start dinner or the kids need new shoes or the lawn is scraggly or I haven't done my quiet time yet or there are crumbs on the floor or the kids are yelling outside or I need to have a garage sale or I'll never catch up or Celiac Disease overwhelms me at times or I need to exercise and or and or and or and or.

Exhausted.

All day.

It's easy to do. I've got a plate {or plates} loaded with responsibilities and issues to take care of and things where I just have to wait {which is hard} and just daily life to do. I see catalogs and tv shows and blogs and others and think that I need to do all that stuff or have this or the kids need do that to be successful. I let myself compare and find myself discontent. I make myself keep busy. Moving. Trying to make up for my own insecurities.

There is no stillness in that. Only chaos.

I have to choose.

To live intentional.

Being still.

So I stop. I grab my luke-warm decaf coffee in the yellow Duluth mug and slip out to the deck. I sit down on the worn top step -- a step in need of staining -- and stare at the garden in front of me watching as the summer breeze rocks the pea blossoms back and forth. The setting sun dips into the horizon, and as it does the world is illuminated in it's late light splendor. The kids are laughing in the background as they kick the half-inflated blue and white soccer ball around the yard. I choose to sit. And close my weary eyes.

Lord, let me place these anxieties, these worries, these comparisons at your feet. You know my needs, you know my heart. Fill me with the peace that only you can give. Let me be still.

The list of things to do slows down. Becomes blessings.

This world and all it's urgent agendas begins to fade with the setting sun.

Now, at this moment there is stillness.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. {Romans 12:2}

this summer

~I want to play more games with my kids

and worry less about the lawn.

~~I want to sit and listen to their stories

and let them stay up till the stars shine.

~~I want to gaze up at those stars with my little ones

and teach them how to find the Little Dipper and Orion.

~~I want to watch the birds in my yard and learn the names

and remember to fill their feeders.

~~I want to read my Bible more

and let my heart begin to heal.

~~I want to start to memorize Philippians

and rest and meditate on those truths.

~~I want to go for morning walks

and listen to the world become awake.

~~I want to remember the sunscreen

and the aloe for after.

~~I want to watch my flowers bloom

and not care if they're accidentally picked for me.

 
~~I want to take them to get ice cream

and let them get two scoops each {to my kids who read these -- yes, I said two.}

~~I want to hold my little ones close

and not care about the unimportant.

~~I want to let them set up a "car wash" for all the toys in the garage

and be ready to wave by all the cars who slow down thinking we're having a garage sale.

~~I want to play the piano {my 100 year old piano} more

and pull out music that my grandmother made notes on.

~~I want to write a list like this with my kids

and let them choose things that they want to do.

~~I want to remember that it's not the big things that bring the most joy

but rather the little, unexpected every day moments

and I want to remember.

What do you want to do this summer?