As Parents, Let's Choose the Things that Matter for Our Kids

We can get caught up in "doing" a lot of things for our kids. In our culture we're all about "things."

More things.

Better things.

Lots of things.

We're consumers and takers. We want status and prestige and the best things. We have resulting high expectations for achievement.

We want getting ahead. Pushing. Demanding. Meeting the world's standards.

Let's breathe as parents. I'm reminded as I find myself in that place again. Comparing. Compromising. And I ask myself, `What matters for my kids?'

Love.

Faithfulness.

Commitment.

Compassion.

Selflessness.

Hope.

Perseverance.

To serve and not be served.

To go and make disciples.

To love the Lord with all their heart, soul, strength and mind.

What matters are the things that last.

The things that build family.

The things that transcend culture.

What matters is the love and faith and hope and trust and joy and peace that keep us together when the world around us crumbles.

You don't find it's what the world offers.

You find it reflecting and radiating from the Son sent to live and die and live again for each one of us. All of us.

Surprise! It's Another Birthday In The Sabo House!

Evie celebrates her 2nd birthday with joy.Dur

Here's what I love about Evie coming home from college for the weekend. It's not that it's her 19th birthday today, although that's tres bien. It's not that the laugh-o-meter in the Sabo household goes up many, many percentage points, although that is reason enough to pick her up from VCU and bring her home every weekend if we could.

No, what I love about our accomplished young artist is that she insists on snuggling with her little brothers when she gets home. This morning I found her on the couch with two little boys wrapped in a blanket watching a Disney movie. If she is on the couch -- and awake because the snoozing comes naturally to our second daughter -- and a little boy wanders within an arm's reach you can bet they're getting swept up for a snugglepalooza.

Evie training a young Seth in the snuggling arts.

The little boys, Seth and Judah, protest sometimes. But when "Frozen" or "The Incredibles" or other top flicks get popped into the DVD player, next thing you know it's brothers-sister bonding time on the couch. During the course of a given week I send Evie a great number of Snapchats of her little brothers in various moments and elements of cuteness. I think it pretty much is like food to her.

For me, it brings great contentment to see my older kids be such a big part of their younger brothers' and sisters' lives.  To see how they love them.  I'm a blessed man.

Happy birthday to my beautiful daughter Evie. I love you.

A pre-teen Evie

Happy Birthday To My Amazing Wife Julie

Julie & Seth

Julie and I met when we were 20 years old and we were married 16 months later. By 30 we had seven kids and had lived in four cities.

When we hit 40 we had 12 kids, had moved across the country -- and back while I attended a School of Ministry for 9 months in Oregon -- and had lived in somewhere around 20 different "residences" that included an apartment, a barn and houses that ranged in size from 860 square feet (with five kids) to over 4,000 square feet.

Oh, and there was that two-week stretch in a couple of rooms in a motel when we arrived in Gloucester and no one would rent a house to us because they said we had too many kids. (Like nine is really a lot of kids ... what would those folks say now?)

Sometimes we talk about the plans we had before we got married. We'd have two kids and they'd be best friends and I'd have a nice career in the newspaper business. I'm not sure what all we had planned or if we planned much beyond those few details but it definitely looked nothing like what we have now.

I write all this because I want to say how thankful I am that I'm married to a woman of great faith. Julie inspires me with her devotion and love of the Lord, a pure faith that reflects and radiates the love of Jesus in so many ways. It's a selfless, sacrificial love for me and her children. It's patience, kindness, endurance, strength. It's wisdom. And so many other things.

A couple of months ago we were walking together on a date in D.C. heading to the Mall on an extraordinarily pleasant November night. We had snuck away for a night, just the two of us with no agenda, no demands and no plans other than to enjoy the evening together. Maybe the past 25 years together hasn't looked anything like what we thought it would. It's had so many unexpected twists and turns. And I can't imagine it now any other way.

But walking in D.C. is the part of my life I definitely envisioned. The two of us laughing and talking about the things we've done, the plans we have and the places we'll go. I envisioned us always being together.

Together we've done some pretty incredible things. We have such a good life, far different than anything we could have imagined when we met in her living room in her parents' house in Canby, Ore. We're blessed beyond measure by a family full of kids that love each other and has so much fun together. There's joy in this house and that's something I don't take for granted.

For that I thank Julie and her faith and love and passion to live a life pleasing to her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. She's an amazing example to our kids and many others.

Today is her birthday. Happy birthday babe. I love you.

A Wedding Toast From One Brother To Another

The three amigos saving one of them from a gator's toothy grip

One of the things I'm so blessed by with my family is how much love my kids have for each other. I have a brother-in-law whose words echo through my mind frequently when I think about my kids. He was telling me once how much he enjoys being around my kids and he said quite simply, in part awe and part genuine fascination it seemed, "They're so kind to each other."

The way my family breaks down is there's little groups of my kids that are naturally closer to each other because of being born so close together, as well as other factors. Our three older boys, Brenton, Taylor and Ethan, comprise one of those groups. When we get together and they start telling stories about the things they did back in the day it's hilarious. Apparently the "10-year rule" -- where they can finally talk about the crazy things they did 10 years ago and not worry about getting in trouble -- comes into play. Their bond is strong and lifelong.

I've often thought about the nature of their love for each other and I always come back to it's a reflection of their faith in Jesus. They model the kind, compassionate, loving, serving heart of Jesus. For me, it's a joy to watch and be a part of.

I saw examples of this love for each other over the weekend at the wedding of Taylor & Bethany. The kids stepped up serving in so many different ways. Evie painted an amazing portrait of Taylor & Bethany she gave to them as a wedding gift. Brenton and Ethan served as groomsmen, taking care of a ton of little details  and big ones as well to honor their brother. Claire, MerriGrace and Madeline  were absolutely lovely as they played and sang songs as a trio at the start of the wedding as people entered and got seated. And all of the kids pulled off their parts in the wedding without a hitch.

And as best man for Taylor, Ethan gave a speech at the reception. I'll link to the full speech below that is up on Youtube, but I loved it. He talked about how Taylor has become a remarkable man over the years and he said that love is the strongest force in the world. As he closed the toast and raised his glass, he spoke the words that he told us had came to him in a dream:

"My final hope and my prayer and my blessing to you all Bethany and Taylor, is that your love would be faithful like the rising sun, that it will be as lasting as the mighty mountains, it will be strong like rushing water, as precious as silver, passionate like a raging fire, sweet as a robin's song and richer than a thousand kings. I love you both. Here's to Taylor and Bethany."

Youtube link: Ethan's wedding toast

What A Family Gets With A Wedding

Taylor & Bethany

Somehow we pulled it off. A rehearsal dinner for about 60 people the night before the wedding of our son Taylor and his lovely bride Bethany was going smoothly. It was no small feat, believe me. Julie and several of our daughters and even sons had labored in preparation, preparing baked ziti, a chicken lasagna, chicken marsala with rice, a huge salad, rolls and even five cheesecakes -- all hauled 570 miles from our house to Berea, Ky. But the food was savory and several people asked who did the catering.

Why, we did!

But as the Hayes and Sabo extended families and wedding party ate and mingled and laughed and shared stories, I was walking down the basement hall of the River of Life church where we were holding the wedding on my way to retrieve more forks -- always a good sign when you're hosting  a party for 60 that you've prepared the food for -- when the pastor posed a question to me. It was simple, really: Could I speak with him a moment?

He motioned me into a room across the hall and we sat down. I admit the words, "Uh-oh" went through my mind. But I quickly learned that Pastor Tim just wanted to tell me about Taylor. I won't go into the details but he simply had a lot of very nice things to say about him and we had a great conversation. And I gained a new friend -- two actually because his wife, Anne, joined us. One of the words he used to describe Taylor was "solid." Which is funny because that's one of the exact words my family uses to describe him.

He is solid in the sense that he is faithful and selfless, kind and loving, reliable and generous. And so many other things. It plays out in a thousand little ways and a bunch of big ways. He will jump in and do the dishes and no one even asks him (that's a big deal in my book!). Or he will round up the kids for a lively game of soccer in the front yard. Or he will tell bedtime stories to the little kids that have them laughing so hard they can hardly breathe. He is always willing to help, always willing to give and always quick to love. He's that embodiment of a person who reflects and radiates the love of Jesus. I can't describe in words how much it means to me to call him my son.

Over the course of the wedding I had several people -- fellow students, Pastor Tim, some of Bethany's family members -- pull me aside to tell me about Taylor and how much he's meant to them. It was a totally unexpected blessing.

I say all this because I've been thinking about the dynamics of our family and how they have changed now. This is our first wedding. We've entered a new season where our kids are truly forging their own paths. They are falling in love and getting married and starting lives together and, soon I imagine, perhaps very soon, starting their own families.

But there's something else as well. Something that goes right along with a wedding. It's a wedding gift, I guess you'd say.

We have a new member of the family, someone who we've all quickly come to love quite dearly. Someone who is kind and quick to help and quick to love. Someone who is thoughtful and graceful and who loves to spend time with our little kids and will chat with Olivia for seemingly hours on end. She's someone who is a perfect complement for Taylor.

My son Taylor has a companion for life. My other children have a new sister. Julie and I have a new daughter. We couldn't be happier. Welcome to the Sabo family Bethany.

We love you.

The One Thing Everyone Should Do Today

Sunset-watching requires waiting. Trust me.

I was rummaging through the archives of Sabo musings and came across this one from my old "12 Kids and Counting" blog that I banged out six years ago. I'll link to it here and I think you'll like it and relate to it -- it's about trying to hustle through the express line only to have the customer in front of me whip out a checkbook and sssslllllooooowwwwllllllyyyyy write a check. The blog post is all about waiting and how we're unaccustomed to waiting. And how there's a Biblical principle of waiting that we seem to have forgotten in this culture.

Here's the link: `And Wait On Your God Continually'

But it also got me to thinking about what I've learned shooting photographs of sunsets. I've been on Instagram for a few years and my calling card is sunset photos. We live on a peninsula here in Gloucester and our house is three blocks from a private beach on the York River and a we're a couple of  miles from the beach at Gloucester Point where the iconic Coleman Bridge spans the water.

Over Thanksgiving Ethan was home and I grabbed him just before sundown late one afternoon and trekked down to the beach to impart some fatherly wisdom on photographing sunsets. By no means am I professional photographer. I have friends who are professional photographers and I would not insult them by saying I'm even close to their abilities.

That said, I've learned a few things about sunsets over the years. Here's my three takeaways.

1) Get outside. In order to shoot a photograph of a sunset you have to actually see it. If that sounds a little too obvious, it is. It's my personal opinion that the world would be a better place if more people spent more time personally enjoying sunsets. It takes time and effort to get out and see a sunset but the rewards are incalculable. Take time out of your busy schedule of surfing the net, posting on Facebook, Tweeting, commuting, "working" or otherwise wasting time to watch the sun go down. Enjoy the peace, the view, the beauty and the serenity. You'll feel better, I promise. And take a picture of it.

2) Be patient. The York River is one to two miles wide where I typically watch the sun go down. What I've noticed is that the most astounding part of the sunset occurs about 10 minutes after the actual sunset. I learned this the hard way. When I first started photographing sunsets, I'd watch the sun go down and then call it a day. But a couple times I was walking home from the beach and turned around several minutes after sunset to see the sky aflame. Then I would run down to the beach for the best shots. There's a lesson here: Beautiful things take time. You can't rush them. You can't hurry them up, or microwave them or get them in the express line. Slow down, enjoy the view and let the sunset marinate to perfection.

3) Share it with somebody you love. I saw the clouds in the sky the other day and knew it was going to be a hot sunset. So I grabbed Julie and told her we were going on a date. We went down to the pier at Gloucester Point Beach and watched the sky catch fire behind the Coleman Bridge. It was beautiful. And I'll say from personal experience that sunsets are best enjoyed when you're kissing the love of your life.

When Kids Bicker: A Mom's Solution

Peace, love and no bickering

For some reason, I still get surprised when our kids at college say how much they can't wait to come home. They love being home and soak it in. There's playing with the younger kids -- "Hey guys, let's wrestle," says Ethan -- and there's home cooking -- "Mmmmmm. Mashed potatoes," says Evie -- and movie nights -- some serious laughs when "The Russians Are Coming! The Russians Are Coming!" is on the TV.  Games, telling stories about the crazy things the older kids did when they were little, soccer matches in the front yard, impromptu music sessions, eating ... check that, LOTS of eating, are all in the mix when the family is home together over a holiday or weekend when the collegians return.

But it's not always peace, love and family harmony. Sometimes the Sabo family kids experience a dreaded condition called "bickering." Perhaps you are familiar with this condition as well. It can be highly contagious and very debilitating. It has the potential to be deadly as well, killing any and all joy in the house.

Are you familiar with this `bickering' disease? Well, we're here to help. At no cost to you we have interviewed a world-renowned expert in the field of child bickering and sat down with a very brief interview with this noted authority. Here's a transcript of the interview.

Me: Good morning.
Julie Sabo: Good morning.
Me: You look great by the way. I love you.
Julie Sabo: Um, thanks. What do you want?
Me: Oh, nothing babe. I just wanted to ask you a question if you have a minute in between getting Seth dressed, fixing breakfast, answering a million questions from little kids and settling an argument over the ownership of that toy sword that seems to be causing some sort of internal family conflict.
Julie Sabo: And the question is ...
Me: Well, it seems to be particularly apropos at the moment. But I'm wondering how you solve bickering between children.
Julie Sabo: Just curious, but how many kids do you have?
Me: Same as you my love. Fourteen.
Julie Sabo: And how long have you had kids?
Me: Uh, well if my math is right around 26 years.
Julie Sabo: And you don't know the answer to this question yet?
Me: Well, I just thought it would be best to hear from you. You have a way with words, not to mention being an expert in child psychology.
Julie Sabo: I see.
Me: Soooooo, the answer is ...
Julie Sabo: I try to get to the root of the problem. I'm training and working on character. So instead of just training behavior in the moment, I'm thinking bigger picture. I want to be training and teaching in non-conflict moments. So I work on patience, kindness, sharing, love and forgiveness.
Me: Wow. That's really good.
Julie Sabo: Thanks.

And there you go. Some key points to highlight from my perspective include these quotes:
--Training in non-conflict moments
--Working on patience, kindness, sharing, love and forgiveness

I tell you. I'm going to start writing this stuff down!

When My Daughter Writes Beautiful Essays

Evie Joy

My lovely daughter Evie Joy, or Evie as we all call her, is a talented artist and writer. I love her creativity and her passion for art and writing. She polished off this college admission essay last night and Julie happened to read it then read it to our family. It is wonderful. It brought tears to her mama's eyes. I hope you enjoy it and are as blessed as much as we were. I love you Evie!

Home

I always sit in the front row, usually one or more of my sisters are with me. There are always a multitude of sounds: a rich voice pouring out words read from a worn, tearing notebook, two little newborns cooing or crying gently in the back, faraway laughter and happy shouting that lands faintly on all our ears, sometimes I hear a gentle laughter bubbling forth from us, the audience, sometimes murmurs of agreement, sometimes there are tears, but most of us don’t really notice these sounds; we are too busy listening to the voice and following along to the ancient words he’s reciting. 
The rows are sparse, there are not many people on a given day, but we are clustered together, leaning in to one another to whisper our thoughts or scrawl little notes in the margins of each other’s Bibles. There are some people who wear dresses or dress shirts with ties, some people might wear a dressy-casual attire, there are a few who come in jeans and t-shirts, but there are no cliques among us. Looking out at us, one could see us in an array of colors of diversity, we all are starkly unique from the rest. There are large families that sit together, single moms with a few children in tow, young families that have a baby or two with them, young adults that cluster near each other, and excited middle schoolers that have just graduated from “little kid class.”  We are an informal group; we are not afraid to poke good fun at each other, we are not afraid to laugh at ourselves. 
The man is at the podium, most days in khakis with a button-up shirt. He usually wears a smile that can easily turn into a smirk whenever he attempts to make a joke. Attempting meaning that he makes a joke, and after a long moment of silence our sound man will play a track of crickets chirping, and then we all laugh. He takes a moment to laugh at himself along with us and returns to the story. I pretend I am immune to his jokes, but you see I find puns funny seemingly against my will. He’ll take time in his sermon to share something from his life that proves, contrary to what we would like to believe, that pastors deal with the same struggles we do. He’ll rub his bald head tiredly as he points out a convicting area of scripture, he’ll laugh at the unexpected triumph a character in the story had. The man at the podium is my dad, and he stands there every sunday morning reading and teaching from his Bible. I lost track of how many times he’s bought a new Bible because his has fallen apart—his favorite pages slipping out, running out of room to write in the margins, and having to duct tape the binding together—and most times I find myself getting lost in the words as well. Whether the teaching is on an Old Testament prophet called to tell Israel their sin or a widow putting her two mites into the offering cup because it’s all she has, the sermon never fails to both convict and encourage me. 
After he is done teaching, my brother steps up to the podium with a guitar in his hand; he is going to lead us in one last song to end the sermon. His voice carries throughout the sanctuary, singing out the words that wash over us as praises to our Savior. His voice is high and happy, filled with a kind of emotion that nobody could be immune to. He often dresses down, almost opposite my dad. At twenty-five he wears t-shirts he’s had since high school from various church camps and simple blue jeans. He is an excellent worship leader and a gifted teacher. He usually closes his eyes and strums the guitar he’s known and loved since middle school and we all stand and worship together, singing out praise songs together. The last song of the service is most often the most meaningful to me because it is after I have heard what God has said to me through my dad, the pastor, and I am ready to start a new week in light of what I had just learned. 
After the service is over we go out into the foyer for coffee and fellowship. Fellowship comes from a Greek word that means communion, contribution, and distribution. We stand together with coffee in our hands as we share about our week, about what God taught us, about how it was encouraging or discouraging or eye-opening or hard. We listen to others share and perhaps we’ll offer advice or encouragement. I have seen many people prayed over during fellowship, sometimes I’m in the group praying and sometimes I’m the one being prayed over. We laugh together, we cry together, we might share deep things, we might share light things, but we are always there for each other. We commune together, we contribute to each other’s lives, we distribute our thoughts. We are a church, but we are also a family.
I am close to everyone that goes to my church, the older adults are like my grandparents, the middling adults are like my aunts and uncles, the young adults are my brothers and sisters, and the young children running around are my nieces and nephews or my little brothers and sisters. I feel comfortable enough to share the hard things I’m going through and I love to praise and rejoice with my family. I believe that church is about people coming together to praise God, read the Bible and hear the pastor’s teaching, and fellowship together. I feel as though my church fulfills all of these, and church is the place I always feel the most comfortable.

I am the most content at church because it is full of people who care for me and who I care for, it is a place of learning and growing, and it is full of God. As soon as I walk into that building I feel God’s presence as if he was there with us, sitting next to me as we begin worship, lending a comforting shoulder as I cry about the struggles in my life, there with us as we pray for one another, standing amongst us as we share with one another. I can’t imagine going many sundays together without once going to church. I hear the Word of God and it teaches me, I commune with my fellow believers and it encourages me, I worship God in song and it blesses me. Every sunday feels like a family reunion. My church is like my home to me, and I find that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Three Key Things For Husbands I've Learned In Marriage

Twenty-four years ago today at a little church in Canby, Ore., I exchanged marital vows with my lovely bride, Julie Young, who wore the same dress her mother wore on her wedding day 24 years earlier. We were 21 on that lovely September day, when I became a dad to her little boy of 16 months. We wed on Labor Day weekend at the start of my senior year of college at the University of Portland, launching an adventure that at this point is nearly 9,000 days long, includes 13 more kids and has endured approximately 90,000 diapers and a move across the country. We've had plenty of struggles but the sweet memories we've made together are incalculable. Here's a few things I've learned about marriage.

Surrender. I am at my best as a husband when I can surrender my selfishness and my desires and serve my wife. My model in this life is Jesus, who came to earth to serve and not to be served. I freely admit it's a constant battle fighting selfishness. But my wife, and then my children, should be assured by what I do -- and say -- that I value and treasure them. Quite often that plays out simply in how I spend my time. Is it to fulfill my wants and desires or is what I'm doing showing them how much I love them? Too often I've chosen to do things I want to do ... I'm a work in progress! Here's the thing though: My fondest memories are times I spend with my wife and family and when I'm participating with them or knowing they are doing the things they enjoy, even though it's not always the way I wanted to spend my time. Essentially, my relationships are elevated when I take the lesser position.

Serving. This plays out in how much I contribute to the family operation, which at its core is serving my wife. Husbands, serve your wives. It's that simple. ("Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her..." Ephesians 5:25) There are certain tasks I've taken on over the years as a way of serving my wife and contributing to the operation of the family, such as grocery shopping, cooking and, yes, even changing diapers, to lighten the load on Julie. I've fallen well short in many other areas, however. I'm working on them, including taking the 2 littlest ones with me when I haul older kids to soccer practices and games to try to give her more free time away from the demands of wee ones. She's earned it after years of sacrificing her desires for our family and I'm committing to serving her more.

Relationship. To me, the most important relationship in our marriage is my relationship with Jesus. My marriage works best when I am spending time with the Lord by reading His word, by praying and in meditating on Scripture. It's a way to learn to model this earthly existence after my savior's. The word used to describe Jesus the most in the New Testament is `compassion.' If I bring compassion to my marriage, it entails numerous actions: Love, tenderness, empathy, humility, sensitivity, kindness and so much more. A compassionate husband is a good husband.

I still have so much to learn about Julie and marriage. I am learning how to get things right, how to submit, to be quick to apologize, to surrender and serve and have compassion ... I could go on and on. My prayer is that God will give me the wisdom, selfless love and heart to be a loving husband who treasures his wife.

Finishing Well

This is Judah. He's very much into Caillou, Lightning McQueen, Thomas the Tank and as you can see he totally rocks a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. He's fun, talkative, cute as all get out and has an amazing set of eyelashes. He's also, like any 3-year-old I've ever known, prone to fits, disputes and general phases of disobedience. We are working on curing him of those rebellious moments and let's just say it's a work in progress. But our desire is to finish well with him -- and Seth -- as parents. Even after 25 years of the "terrible twos" it's no time to kick back and relax.

One interesting aspect of having children as young as 18 months living in the same house as children in their 20s is the observations of the older kids. Especially when the younger ones act up. Believe it or not, we've had frequent occasions where one of our sweet, innocent, very young lads or lasses does something so contrary to family harmony that it causes a great tumult. For example, in our house yesterday Brenton initiated disciplinary proceedings against Judah by sequestering him in his bed, much to his little brother's vociferous dismay. Judah was loud in his dismay. And when I say loud, it's loud; he's got serious lung power and I think he will grow up to either be a worship leader or a world-class miler. Maybe both. It turns out Judah had just taken all the little toy cars from Olivia -- without asking -- by brute force. Here's how the conversation between Brenton and MerriGrace went.

MerriGrace: "What's he in for?"
Brenton: "He confiscated all the cars from Olivia."
MerriGrace: "Oh. Grand theft auto."

There's even frequent occasions when there have been much more minor transgressions that cause a bit of a row. Truth be told, Julie and I can be a little worn out from correcting our lovely little ones and have a tendency to "let things go." Been there, done that after all. We can try and disguise it as "mercy" or "grace" ... but that isn't quite accurate. We've just gotten soft sometimes.

When that happens one of our older kids will shoot us a look that says, "Did you hear that?" or "Did you see that?" There are even times they'll come right out and say, "I never got away with that." I actually appreciate these looks and comments because it's a reminder that discipline is for the benefit of our children. We were at a baby shower today and a young woman who had been visiting with my teenage daughters pulled me aside and told me how much she enjoyed talking to them and how wonderful they are. I was very blessed by her comments and as I thought about it on the drive home I was reminded that molding children takes work. It takes consistency. There are times it takes punishment and for the children to know that there's consequences for bad behavior. It especially takes love.  While the process may be trying and difficult, I know that someday Judah will appreciate our efforts. Maybe he'll even give us a thumbs up.