Letting go of anything can be hard, especially as a parent. My mom kept so much from my journey to adulthood, I could look through a couple different totes to find something as small as a random math worksheet from 5th grade. Personally, I struggle with control and letting God be at the helm. I’m not sure this lesson is ever fully grasped - we humans have a tendency to lay something at the foot of the cross and pick it right back up again when life feels out of control. These moments are where we grow in our faith and spirituality.
A Parenting Prune that Changed Everything
Recently, Zach and I decided to eliminate screen time, specifically for our kids.
I never felt like we were overdoing screen time. We tried not to let tv time last longer than 30-45 mins consecutively, although I’m sure it went over often. We encouraged playtime, tried to enforce chores, and went outside when we could.
When summer school started with Ben, he was so tired when he came home, he just wanted to watch tv for 30 mins. Afterward, he and Zach would go outside and play until I got home with the girls. Then before bed, as a family we would watch a couple episodes of Bluey together.
Television time had gradually increased over the month of June, particularly for Ben.
We’ve noticed for a while that Ben is pretty sensitive to things like screen time, dyes, and sugar.
Ben doesn’t just get hyper, he gets aggressive! Seriously, after he had a juice with dyes and sugar in it, I caught him putting his sister in a headlock.
I really believed the majority of his behavioral issues were tied to his diet. I hadn’t considered an overconsumption of TV, although I was not naive to assume it wasn’t a problem at all.
We had threatened to take TV away many times in the past, but it never went beyond that.
After a particularly rough day in which the kids only wanted to watch some guy on Youtube play with toys and fought like it was their job when the TV wasn’t on, Zach and I finally had enough and turned the TV off for the day.
The kids were furious and their reactions to the TV being taken away were so explosive and dramatic, Zach and I decided the TV ban would be indefinitely permanent for now.
As we expected, the days following the ban were a little bit grueling. The kids argued and fought and petitioned us without ceasing. There was lots of hateful talk and countless, “I’M BOREDs.”
But somewhere around the fifth day, they accepted their fate, and started playing or wanting to help more with house chores and cooking.
The magic really started happening around the two week mark.
All of the kids had finally settled into the new normal. They still asked about TV, but knew we weren’t going to turn it on. They began to actually play together - pretend, blocks, house, dress up, etc. I haven’t seen the kids play together like this since Joey was born.
The TV was a distraction for our children that even we couldn’t see until we pruned it…
Letting Go When We Feel Hopeless
It has been a rough week for a number of reasons, of which I will save you the details. Just know, it was a week of minor inconveniences that snowballed into big frustrations, big feelings, and as the week went on, I realized it was also a week of big distractions from the things I knew I needed to be praying about.
One of the inconveniences of the week, lice. Thankfully, it seemed to only be “nits” in my children’s hair, but at the time, admittedly I didn’t care whether there were bugs or not, I was done.
Unfortunately, after I thought I had gotten all of the nits out of my daughter’s hair, I got a call the next day at school saying she needed to be picked up again because she still had nits. I got to the school and in my anger, I was brash and unkind to the daycare teachers, and drove home with my daughter in tow, crying all the way.
I feel obligated to tell you here, I do not cry easily. I am not a cryer. My metaphorical cup had runneth dry and the desert I felt inside spilled over.
When we got home, we tried to make the best of the day together. We did more nit-picking, took a trip to the bank, went to the library, and then came home for lunch and a nap. I desperately needed that nap.
After I got my daughter in her bed and napping, I went to my own. My body said, “sleep,” but my heart said, “pray.” So, I prayed.
I laid the week out before God. Honestly, I told Him how exhausted and empty I felt. Then I gave it all to Him in a desperate prayer for REST.
What followed was one of the most restorative naps I’ve ever had.
The evening was more peaceful than the whole week combined and my patience was somewhat restored.
Immediately following this peace, came the destruction the enemy had been planning all week.
It felt like God opened my eyes to the truth of the week. All of the tiny distractions from the thing I needed to stay focused on were just that - distractions. While I experienced mostly peace, there worries of how the event might impact our future.
However, today at church, I saw glimmers of hope that I know only God could’ve put in my sight. New faces at church, fellowship programs restarting after summer break, great worship music, and a communion meditation that was so special and beautiful by a younger man at our church.
Then, in his sermon, our pastor talked about Saul’s conversion and change. (For reference, Acts 9:1-18.)
He made a point to talk about how Jesus wants to make us new. That newness comes with pruning. And pruning prepares us for the calling God has on our lives.
Those words settled deep in my heart.
Sure, the week may have been full of distractions, but it was also full of pruning. God was helping me let go of the things that make it harder for me to stay focused on Him - things that were not allowing me to be obedient to Him.
This post isn’t scripture heavy, it isn’t a sermon.
It is a renewed investment in obedience.
The kids “on their mark” ready to race down the driveway. This is another new game we play instead of watching TV.
A Fresh Start: Why I Write and Share with You
I now recognize that in the same way screens were a huge distraction for my children and their obedience to my husband and I, the inconveniences and the control I was trying to wield were holding me back and were a distraction from listening to my Heavenly Father. I’ve heard the small whisper for a couple months to get back to writing and openly sharing my faith with others and have made excuses of being too busy or tired.
I’m not sure why this feels so important, but I believe that God has placed me in this position of writing and sharing my glimmers with you for a reason. I may never know that reason, but for now, I will do my best to be obedient to the tugging at my heart.
So with that in mind, I believe now is the time to share with you something important to me.
Recently, I’ve spent some time thinking about what this blog, my website, and social media mean to me. Why am I investing time in this? I truly feel a tug on my heart to use it to minister. In the journey of finding the “why” behind the work, I developed a mission statement that reveals where my heart is in all of this. I’m so thankful to God for helping me articulate this passion and I feel compelled to share it with you.
My mission with “Ashton Kever Ministries” is to encourage and equip women to invest in their faith and grow Christ-centered families. Through uplifting content and faith-based products, I aim to inspire women to deepen their relationship with God and guide their children in doing the same. My heart is to help women engage with God’s Word in a way that transforms their homes with truth, joy, and purpose.
While I’m vulnerably sharing with you my mission, I’m going to boldly ask you to please share my blog page with women you believe could benefit from the content I share and could use some encouragement. Please invite your friends and family to “like and follow” my Facebook page. Your support means so much to me.
It is my prayer that as I try to walk in obedience and write what God places on my heart, that you would continue to walk with me and pray for me on this journey. If you’ve read this far, I just want to thank you so much for your support.