Can I confess something as a mom? I struggle with putting my kids first. I don't imagine any of the rest of you do. (smile)

But really—there are so many fun and exciting things to do, and we live in a country where it is so easily all about ME—I deserve this, I ought to take advantage of that—and sometimes walking kids through their personal "stuff" isn't too much fun. That's probably when I most tend to turn into an "escapee," dwelling on the importance of my trips or speaking engagements or even an appointment to the hairdresser (which in itself isn't bad—we all need care—it's just tempting to schedule extra opportunities to leave the house sometimes for no really good reason). Luckily I'm not an avid shopper, or I'd be in extra big trouble.

We've just been through a tough season with our 15-year-old, and we've survived, and healing has come. The relief in the household is palpable. So I'm just beginning to bask in the joy of our time together. It's great, just great.

At the same time I've been so excited about a trip to South Africa to teach purity in a couple of churches and work in a really distressed neighborhood in Cape Town. Those of you who know me know how excited I get about the African countries, and how much I look forward to going.

Then they scheduled the dates, April 17-28. My daughter's sixteenth birthday is the 17th. AND my 12-year-old turns 13 the day before.

Now, don't shun me, but at first I thought, well, my gals are so flexible and strong and independent, and we celebrate a lot of birthdays before or after the day because of travel. No problem. We'll do something special the weekend before. My husband, bless his wonderful, fatherly heart, seemed hesitant about the plan. In fact, he was supposed to go with me, and then  bowed out, even though the worship team there was really looking forward to him coming. He made a strong statement about needing to be with the family (hint to wife!), but said no more, except for a few funny looks. (:

So I started making my plans and finding another partner to be my right-hand gal, and meeting with the team leader. It wasn't until a few weeks later that something in my heart screamed, STOP!" and I realized that (can I write this?) I was more excited about that trip than I was about my daughter's sixteenth birthday.

This revealed something about my heart that humiliated and disturbed me deeply. I knew that I knew that I knew that I could not expect real blessing from my efforts if I didn't put my girls first. I had known it before, but now I was called upon to really put it into practice.

I wrestled for a bit and asked if they could delay the trip out, but yesterday got word that it wasn't possible. I would have to step down. I cried tears over it and was ashamed of myself, but today I feel more peaceful. I know it's the right thing. It isn't worth missing a sweet sixteen.

As I give myself the grace I need to, I recognize that many other parents need the same grace. Even when we have raised our children well, when we have taught them what it means to pursue purity, when we're doing all the right things, our priorities can get tangled up. We can be distracted. We can forget what's really important.

I will likely get another chance to go to Cape Town, but even if I don't, it's okay. Right now it's my own heart and my daughters' hearts that are in need, and I can't go doing the other stuff if I can't do it right at home. My heart needs the pain and turning of this sacrifice that shouldn't have felt like a sacrifice in the first place.

Are you in a similar position somehow? Don't beat yourself up. Make the hard choice, give yourself a day or two to recover, and move on. Choose to turn your heart towards home. You don't want to regret a thing the say you die. 

When I thought of lying on my deathbed, I knew that I might be disappointed if I hadn't spent time in Cape Town. But much more than that, I knew that I would be telling myself, "You weren't even there for her sixteenth birthday." Then the choice was clear—a lot of things are like that when you look at life from end to beginning.

But I'm not going to dwell on that now. I have a party to help plan, and I'm really looking forward to it. In fact, I'm going to allow myself to be consumed by it. It's going to be a BETTER trip than Africa even could have been.

Just ask my husband. He knew it all along. (Thanks, honey.)