What are you looking for?

This past Sunday was a beautiful moment for our little family: My husband baptized my two youngest children.

A passel of family and friends showed up, smartphones at the ready, and when my kids came out of the water, there were whoops and a whole lot of applause.

Afterward, we headed to my in-laws’ for chili and coconut cream pie.

And I thought, This is what we celebrate.

“I See You”

But the discipline of celebration is about even more than this, I think. It’s about training our eyes to see the God around us, from the architecture of a leaf, to the subtle and painstakingly slow ways God’s growing our kids in seasons where our heart twists like a dishrag.

Joy and celebration, I think, are about training my eyes to see, and celebrating God there: The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light (Matthew 6:22). (Want to think more on this? See this post, “It’s Around Here Somewhere”: On Looking for Joy–and Fighting to See.)

Celebration isn’t the equivalent of a Pinterest-perfect birthday party. There’s a distinction in whether celebration points to ourselves, or whether it’s from the mindset of “What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?” (1 Corinthians 4:7).

Celebration is an extension of gratitude–being awake to God’s presence and activity among us.

It reminds me know of C.S. Lewis’ words.

The sense in which the picture “deserves” or “demands” admiration is rather this; that admiration is the correct, adequate or appropriate, response to it, that, if paid, admiration will not be “thrown away”, and that if we do not admire we shall be stupid, insensible, and great losers, we shall have missed something…

[God] is that Object to admire which…is simply to be awake, to have entered the real world; not to appreciate which is to have lost the greatest experience, and in the end to have lost all.

(If you’re interested in this line of thinking, don’t miss this post, Caught Up in the Wonder: When You’re One Lucky Dog.)

THE KEY: Celebration is getting all excited about how great it is to be God’s kids—a people marked by joy. It is
• Seeing God and what he’s doing, and taking time to get excited about what’s going right
• Making moments and traditions for us to remember
• Setting markers in place in our schedule and minds to take time out and feast in the context of worship and community

As a bonus? Celebrations lift our eyes from all that isn’t going right so we can remember that God is still working. He is trustworthy.

Some of the times when it is most painful to celebrate are the times our brains and hearts most need to rake through our days and our lives, finding what is beautiful among the ugly and painful.

When we’re metaphorically wondering where our next meal will come from, it helps to remember how God’s packed our lunches every day.

I think it might be why God scheduled regular feasts (when His people also set aside work). It’s like a massive flag waving: Stop everything. Remember how good we have it? Remember how good he is?

So here: Some practical ways to weave small celebrations into the fabric of your family.

Draw from your gratitude lists.

This post talks about ways to help kids cultivate gratitude. One reader, Katie, comments that she and her family keep a gratitude list–and when they collectively hit 1000 items, they go out for ice cream. I love this!

Even more, it may be that as you celebrate the small things, something sticks out: A child earning an award for a hard-won accomplishment or character trait. But even if not?

Reward your kids’ little wins.

Yes, we live in a society where the whole soccer team gets a medal, even for showing up and picking weeds. But sometimes our kids are working hard at character or spiritual disciplines (like scripture memory. These are wins that matter!). And those may never be rewarded.

Like watching a plant grow, it requires intentional watching–maybe like the father of the prodigal son, eyes sweeping for a silhouette on the horizon.

So here’s a certificate to get a little jazzed up about what’s going right with your kids.

Print this FREE here!

I think of my son’s recent swing from moody teenager to a young man interested and focused on the things of God.

After all the prayers poured in on his behalf, I want him to know (sans awkwardness)–I see the ways you’re changing, and I’m thrilled about it with you. These aren’t attached to how much I love you, but this right here? This is a win.

Invite others in.

Last night, my husband and I sat with my parents on the patio around a fire. Suddenly, my husband interrupted himself: “Oh, guys, look: Check out that sunset.” Our heads swiveled toward a gorgeous wash of lilac- and grapefruit-colored clouds.

At least eight Psalms speak some version of this:

I actually think social media (as much as we dog it) can help us in celebration. I felt giddy being able to share the images and videos of my kids–and being able to show my kids later, “Look at all the people excited about your walk with God!” (I do admit that there’s a lot of hokey theology wrapped up in a photo of a new car with “#blessed”–like some spiritual version of the humble-brag. But I digress.)

Involve as many senses as you can.

God is a bit of a party animal. Jesus’ big debut was making wine from water for a wedding. The Bible ends with His own wedding. God’s the pinnacle of our joy, of our feasts and revelry.

And I think He uses our senses—the evergreen smells at Christmas; the clam dip (it’s our family thing); birthday cake—to cement our minds to what we can’t see.

Think Psych 101: How can you create “positive association” around what God’s doing in and around your family? Do you want to go for coffee with that kid who finally got a B on a spelling test? Do your kids need a wrestling session with dad when he finally arrives home after a week away?

Keep an eye out for others’ wins.

Through a text or a thank-you note or a postcard, it doesn’t take much to “rejoice with those who rejoice” (Romans 12:15). (Though admittedly, this can be harder than “weeping with those who weep”?)

What are simple ways to “stir up one another to love and good works” (Hebrews 10:24)?

Maybe you could

• drive over a special coffee to a friend who’s finally turned in that last paper for her degree
• send a Marco Polo video to the sensory-processing-disorder kid who had to get a cavity filled
• when a friend’s parents finally say they’re coming for the first time, get excited and bring muffins for a family-sized breakfast–or just hug her and get excited

Take pictures. Print them. Keep them on shelves where kids can reach.

Maybe this seems like a “duh” in the age of Insta.

But my son and I have twice now had an ongoing photo competition during a hike. It turns both of our eyes to the little breathtaking vignettes all around us. It affects our inner zoom lens–to the point that recently, on a hike by myself, I was moved to tears by this art gallery of God’s I was walking through.

Of course we’re tempted to fake it a little; to zoom in on only what’s lovely about our lives. But there’s something to be said when my kids look through our Chatbooks, drawn from our lives: See what memories we’ve had? Don’t forget.

It’s like the Israelites erecting a monument by the Jordan, with each tribe choosing a stone.

“When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord…

“So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.” (Joshua 4:6-7)

On that note–

Keep physical reminders of what God has done.

My parents kept a charred license plate from a 1977 Cadillac Seville.

The driver? A slightly more youthful version of my mother, pregnant with me, her firstborn.

Only a half mile from our farm house, she’d yielded at the intersection. But it was summer, and the field of corn stretched green and high. Another car was charging through somewhere around the posted 55 miles per hour.

But you’ll have to read more here. 

Rather than getting caught up in perfection, get caught up in celebration. Plan ahead. (Or don’t!)

One of the things that can keep me from celebrating? My idea that everything has to be sparkly. And my house should be clean. And I should have the right words.

But wouldn’t that be sad…if my own image-management kept me from celebrating what God does?

One of my mom’s love languages is planning. And I like that she planned picnics down by the creek on Mondays while we were small.

Even though she was a farm wife with, I don’t know, chickens to pluck or whatever–she made the effort to communicate, Your childhood is worth celebrating and remembering. And I’ll create a day to make sure it doesn’t pass us by. 

Sometimes a good celebration can have paper plates, or friends over for ice cream right out of the carton, or a text that just says, Hey. I see what’s meaningful to you. And I’m proud of you/happy alongside you/cheering you on.

Help us out! What little habits make it easier for your family to celebrate the good stuff?

Catch the rest of the Spiritual Disciplines for Real Families series here!