Why So Many Great Stories Were Penned by Pioneers and Homesteaders?

Because they had so much to write about.

Those people in the cities, they had interesting things to write about, too.

But when you live out in the country, every day is an adventure.

Since we have moved out here nine years ago, we have been snowed in for days at a time, taken one trip in an ambulance, had run-ins with elk, lots of rattlesnakes (not as many these days), tornadoes, flash floods in the nearby canyon, fires, hail storms of Biblical proportions, rodents of unusual size...

And we don't even own livestock, grow wheat or live near hostile Indian tribes like in days of yore.

Today Jacob and I were just hanging out waiting for Brian and the girls to get back from Lowes so he could finish another home maintenance project and we smelled smoke. Our neighbors' stacked hay bales were on fire from a lightening strike. Thankfully the fire department came quickly, but the rain wasn't enough to put it all out I guess because another fire truck carrying water just drove down our road.

When we lived in town, sometimes I took a nap in the afternoon. Now afternoon is when all the action starts.

When I read the "Little House" series these days vs. those quiet days living in suburbia, I find myself relating more and more - and looking for helpful hints on survival from the seasoned pioneers!

Musings of an Old Lady

I've never paid much attention to my birthdays. The only one that stands out in my mind as having any importance was my sixteenth- I felt like I was pretty grown up then.

However, this year is very different. I am turning forty tomorrow and I guess all this ignoring of the passing years is catching up with me. I examine recent photos and I don't recognize the person I am becoming. The wrinkles and sagging that weren't there the year before. Realizing I look more like my grandma with each passing day. I wouldn't ever consider plastic surgery, but I increasingly understand why some choose that option.

It's hard to see myself as "older" on the outside when I feel just the same as I did at sixteen on the inside. Only wiser and more worn down with the cares of life.

When I look at pictures of my parents, grandparents and people I care about, I see their wrinkles and sags, too, but I love them- it is a part of who they are. Those evidences of age give them character and endear them to me.

Why can't I see myself that way? Why can't I look at my hands as being the instruments of caring for my family, the part of me that enables me to cook, clean, give hugs and loving touches? Why do I only perceive the imperfections? The wrinkles that are the memories of smiles and laughter- that cause me to turn away when I look in the mirror. The sags and bags that are the evidence of bearing and nourishing my children. I see only the "old" and not the person behind it all.

I wouldn't want to be forty and still look sixteen would I? (Maybe in some ways, the answer would be "yes!", but I digress).

My children certainly seem to accept the me I am becoming. My husband still loves me ( so he says...). My family still calls and visits. Perhaps God will give me the grace to accept the older me as well.

Good-bye, youth. Hello, middle-age. How grateful I am that you are here. It is an honor and a privilege to have lived long enough to know you. There are many aspects of growing older that I do not look forward to, but I believe the benefits outweigh the negatives.

Forty, here I come! (gulp!)

Just Thinking Out Loud :)

I read an article in my college alumnae magazine that came the other day about a man who "converted" to the Eastern Orthodox church after being in a mainline protestant church for his growing up. He mentioned how he felt connected to all the saints who had gone on before him as he worshiped in this new church. As I read several books on Catholicism from the Catholic point of view last year, I can see how this more encompassing view of church history and our place in it can enrich one's spiritual life. What I appreciated most from my Catholic readings was the emphasis on remembering the Christians who have gone on before us and seeing the continuity of the church from Jesus until now.

These past few years have been a time of spiritual upheaval for me and I am still processing through a lot of things. I have read about church history and the tenants of other Protestant faiths and the Catholic church (and even others outside these groups just to see where their beliefs came from). The last time I went through such spiritual wrestling was after my mom died twenty years ago when I asked the questions "Who is God and what does He want from me?" I went through the Bible and every time a verse said "God is...." or talked about an attribute of God, I wrote it down into a long list.

This time, however, I have focused on studying core beliefs and what can be considered "open for interpretation". I wonder, too, how much our gravitation towards a particular flavor of Christianity has to do less with the way we were brought up (although that is a part of who we are) and more with our personality (preference for hymns vs praise songs, charismatic vs liturgical) and stage in life. As the man in the article stated, when he was young, the Eastern Orthodox church "made sense" to him, it was a good fit for where he was in life (and he ended up becoming ordained in that church). As we move through the years, our needs change and the expression of who we are changes. I know I am not the same person I was twenty years ago and what would meet my needs spiritually is different in some ways now. Perhaps as a teen-ager one might prefer praise songs and as one matures, might prefer a more liturgical style worship (or the other way around). As a young adult we might hold certain teachings more strongly than we might later on when we have had a chance to grow more in grace.

My belief in the core tenants of the Christian faith remains the same and in some ways even stronger than before. But being encouraged by the emphasis in other Christian traditions has broadened my thinking and enriched my faith. It has soothed the wounds inflicted by oppressive teachers (most specifically in the homeschooling realm) and helped me to grow. It has helped me view the Christian faith as a journey and that the outward expression of one's faith can change in response to what is happening within us and God's moving in our lives.

Abscessed Teeth and the Musings They Inspired

Today Hope had a baby tooth pulled by an oral surgeon. On Monday, she had quite a bit of pain in her tooth, which I assumed was being pushed on by a permanent tooth. On Tuesday when we were out, Abby said, "Mommy, did you know Hope's cheek is all swollen?" Sometime after lunch Hope's face began to swell, so on our way home we swung by the dentist's office for an x-ray. The dentist said Hope had an abscessed tooth and it would need to come out. So, today, it did. We hope that the infection will now go away and she will soon be back to "normal".

Before we went to the oral surgeon, the dentist had referred us to a pediatric dentist to have the tooth pulled. I called the dentist we had used when the girls were little (big, big mistake). This woman takes the worst case scenario and presents it to you as if this is what you will be facing. She warned that Hope might end up in the emergency room on IV antibiotics - Hope, listening in the chair with tears streaming down her face. This was the same dentist who warned us that Abby would *almost certainly* loose her permanent front teeth due to an eye tooth situation- and Abby is just fine today.

Mulling over the situation, I realized that this dentist uses fear to gain power over people. She uses her theatrics and medical knowledge to create panic in loving parents who only want their kids to be alright. Even her dental hygienists treat parents with scorn when they learn the child doesn't floss twice a day and if the child has a cavity, you'd better run and hide! I wonder if creating unwarranted fear in people gives her a sense of importance (since *she* has the answer for you and if you don't do as she says, your child will suffer harm).

Mulling further, I thought of a woman who runs a very nice fabric store nearby. However, the atmosphere in the store is suffocating and the employees have a meek and scared demeanor! The owner was at the cash register once when I was checking out and I could see why. She controlled everyone through threats and fear.

Many people in religious organizations and in the church do this as well- "If you don't live your life the way I think you should (dress the way I think you should, eat or don't eat what I think you should, etc.) you'll be in danger of hell... Control through fear.

I can see how fear of hell can be a good thing in causing us to turn to Christ, and He certainly did warn people about it while on earth and through the Bible, but that is not how God deals with us. He doesn't try to control us using fear and intimidation. It seems that looking around lately, whether it be situations at Brian's work or at the dentist's, it amazes me how many people try to control other people (it's like a bunch of toddlers in grown up bodies!).

Anyway, these "musings" are just for my own reflection- I think that domineering people are one of my "pet peeves" and this dentist taking advantage of Hope's situation to create more panic than was necessary (even the first dentist used the words "too much drama" in referring to her...) made me think on this.

I am grateful that Hope is feeling better tonight and that her experience with the oral surgeon was a positive one. We pray that the infection will go away now and that this will be the end of this adventure!

One of the Best Parenting Tips I Ever Heard...

I read or heard this when Hannah was a baby and I don't remember the source of it, but it really stuck with me:

As a parent, never be the one who ends the hug first.

That's it. Let the child be the one who breaks away from you after a hug.

I have been amazed at what this can do- comfort for the child when I wasn't aware that they were having a tough time, especially in those middle years.

Sometimes I would hug one of my children and they would just keep squeezing me- they needed that emotional comfort- and I had no idea. But I kept hugging- not pulling away- until the child was "done". The change in the child's countenance was amazing- peaceful, relaxed. I didn't even have to know what was troubling them and most of the time they didn't tell me, but whatever it was, they felt better afterwards. The incredible power of human touch!


Now, if the child also receives this advice (never be the one who ends the hug first), you could be in for some REALLY long hugs...

One of my Favorite Devotionals from Elisabeth Elliot

Hope Is a Fixed Anchor

My friend Miriam is herself a walking miracle, having recovered more than twenty years ago from cancer. Her case was so serious that the doctors told her husband not to expect her home from the hospital. The cure was so miraculous that one doctor described it this way: "If you parked your car on a hill and the brakes let go, would you expect it to roll to the top of the hill? That's how incredible this is. This cancer was supposed to travel in one direction and kill her. It went the opposite way and quit."

Miriam was the only one who could talk like a Dutch uncle to my husband when he had cancer. He would listen to her when he did not want to hear a word out of the rest of us. His hope, of course, was that he would be cured as she had been.

The more hopeless my husband's case appeared to be, the more faithfully Miriam called to remind me, "Our hope, Elisabeth, is not in radiation or surgery or chemotherapy. Our hope is not in the doctors. Our hope is in God."

One night when I went to bed I found a card on my pillow. My daughter Valerie, still a teenager, had made it, intertwining the letters with tiny colored flowers. It said HOPE IN THE LORD. With all my heart I did that. With all my heart I prayed. It has been eight years now since Add died, and the card is before me tonight as I write. I am still hoping--but for what?

Christian hope is a different sort of thing from other kinds. The Greek word used in the New Testament for hope was one which in classical literature could mean expectation of good or bad, but was used by Christians to mean that in which one confides, or to which one flees for refuge. The real essence of the word is trust.

When Lazarus died, the hopes of his two loving sisters, Mary and Martha, were dashed. Jesus, hearing the news, did not hurry to the house but stayed where he was for two more days. When he finally got to Bethany both sisters greeted him with the same words: "If only you had been here, Lord!" Martha remembered the fact of the resurrection. She knew Lazarus would rise again on the last day, but that wasn't really good enough. She wanted her brother now, and her brother was dead. The terrible thing was that he might have been alive if only Jesus had been there. Jesus said to her, "I myself am the resurrection."

This is our hope. It is a living thing. It is, in fact, Christ himself. It is also something to live by. When our hopes for healing or success or the solution to a problem or freedom from financial distress seem to come to nothing, we feel just as Martha did. Jesus might have done something about it but he didn't. We lie awake thinking about all the "if onlys.'' We wonder if it is somehow our fault that the thing didn't work. We doubt whether prayer is of any use after all. Is God up there? Is he listening? Does he care?

The Lord might very well have healed my husband's disease as wonderfully as he healed Miriam's. The simple fact is that he didn't.

HOPE IN THE LORD, says the little card. How am I to do that now? By placing my confidence in the God who promises faithfulness. He has far better things up his sleeve than we imagine. Mary and Martha had envisioned his coming and raising a sick man from his bed. He came too late. Unfortunately Lazarus was dead--so dead, Martha pointed out, that decomposition would have set in. It had not crossed their minds that they were about to see an even more astonishing thing than the one they had hoped for--a swaddled corpse answering the Master's call and walking, bound and muffled, out of the tomb.

The only difference I see in the Lazarus story and our twentieth-century stories of disappointed hopes is the matter of time. Jesus did arrive at Mary and Martha's in a matter of a couple of days, and in perhaps an hour or so after his arrival he raised Lazarus. It looks very quick and easy as we read the story, but of course the two sisters experienced all that those who love a sick person experience, and all the agony of bereavement. Sorrow ran its course. They suffered what humans always suffer, albeit for a very short time.

The truth of the story is that God knew what was happening. Nothing was separating the grieving women from his love. He heard their prayers, counted their tears, held his peace. But he was faithful, and he was at work. He had a grand miracle in mind. The Jews who saw Jesus weep were baffled, and said just what we would have said: "Could he not have kept this man from dying if he could open that blind man's eyes?"

God's timing of the events of our world is engineered from the eternal silence. One time he heals a sick man, such as the paralytic who was lowered through a roof. Another time he lets a sick man die. Miriam's cancer receded. Add's cancer grew. Was God paying attention in the one case but not in the other? So it seemed to Mary and Martha at first. Their prayers for healing were not answered. Jesus did not come. Lazarus died. But what a glorious ending to their story! And ours? What about ours?

"Did I not tell you," Jesus asked, "that if you believed, you would see the wonder of what God can do?" Here is the clue to the lesson: It is faith he is looking for, a quiet confidence that whatever it is he is up to, it will be a wonderful thing, never mind whether it is what we have been asking for.

The usual notion of hope is a particular outcome: physical healing, for example. The Christian notion, on the other hand, is a manner of life. I rest the full weight of my hopes on Christ himself, who not only raised the dead but was himself raised, and says to me in the face of all deaths, "I myself am the resurrection." The duration of my suffering may be longer than that of Lazarus's sisters, but if I believe, trust, flee to God for refuge, I am safe even in my sorrow, I am held by the confidence of God's utter trustworthiness. He is at work, producing miracles I haven't imagined. I must wait for them. The Book of the Revelation describes some of them. The intricacies of his sovereign will and the pace at which he effects it ("deliberate speed, majestic instancy") are beyond me now, but I am sure his plan is in operation.

HOPE IN THE LORD. Doctors, chemotherapy, surgery, radiation might very well have been a part of God's plan, methods he might have used to answer our prayers for a complete cure for my husband. They evidently were not. But that was not where our hopes really lay. They lay then, as they lie now, on the faithfulness of the One who died for us and rose again.

What God promised to Abraham ("Surely blessing I will bless thee") he promises to us. We have two "utterly immutable things, the word of God and the oath of God, who cannot lie," according to the Book of Hebrews. Therefore we who are refugees from this dying world have a source of strength. We can grasp "the hope he holds out to us. This hope we hold as the utterly reliable anchor for our souls, fixed in the innermost shrine of Heaven, where Jesus has already entered on our behalf" (6:19, 20 PHILLIPS).

I don't know, when I'm asking for something here on earth, what is going on in the innermost shrine of Heaven (I like to think about it, though). I am sure of one thing: it is good. Because Jesus is there. Jesus loves me. Jesus has gone into that shrine on my behalf. The hope we have is a living hope, an unassailable one. We wait for it, in faith and patience. Christ is the resurrection and the life. No wonder Easter is the greatest of Christian feast days! No wonder Christians sing!

The powers of death have done their worst,
But Christ their legions hath dispersed:
Let shout of holy joy outburst.
Alleluia!

The three sad days are quickly sped,
He rises glorious from the dead;
All glory to our risen Head!
Alleluia!

Lord! By the stripes which wounded thee,
>From death's dread sting thy servants free,
That we may live and sing to thee.
Alleluia!

Latin 1695--Episcopal Hymnal

Copyright© 1988, by Elisabeth Elliot
all rights reserved.

What's on your Shirt?

Earlier this summer, I wrote a letter to Lands' End customer service about my concern over their increasing number of their men's and women's clothing being made with treated fabrics. Before this, I had talked with a customer service representative, asking what chemicals were used to make their fabrics wrinkle resistant and she replied that she had no idea- and that she did not think that question had ever been asked of their office before.

When Brian and I were at Nordstroms last summer looking for men's dress shirts, the nice gentleman helping us informed us that ALL Norstroms dress shirts from that point on would be sold with a chemical finish (wrinkle/stain resistant) and not to worry- it was a "non-toxic resin" that was on the shirts.

Almost all the dress shirts sold at Eddie Bauer and a large percentage of LL Bean's men's clothing is treated. Most of the men's clothing we checked at the mall was also treated.

While those helpful customer service workers and store attendants do not know what their products contain, a quick Google search will tell you that the chemical that is used to make things stain or wrinkle resistant is TEFLON- not some "harmless resin". TEFLON has a history of documented health problems and lawsuits resulting from those issues. Many people have stopped using Teflon coated pans due to concerns over these health risks. Those risks include birth defects and reproductive problems (some articles I read raised concerns over thyroid hormone regulation, damage to the immune system and certain cancers). Teflon has been identified as "likely" to be carcinogenic to humans and is known to cause flu-like symptoms when heated past a certain temperature. It is also suspected to be an "immune system sensitizer" - exposure to the fumes can put you at risk for developing allergies and/or asthma. Now, I realize that shirts and pants are usually cool when they are worn. But what about when you put them in the dryer? What about small children or pets in the home breathing those heated chemicals while the clothes are being dried? Babies carried close to the shoulder who drool/suck on your shirt? Small children are especially vulnerable to chemicals such as Teflon due to their size and developing immune systems.

Considering that the long term effects of Teflon are not clear and in light of the fact that there are many indicators that it is not a benign chemical, why are companies so whole-heartedly treating their products with this?

As a mother of a child with a compromised immune system, it is my responsibility to keep her environment as "clean" as possible. While I know there is no way to avoid everything "bad" out there, I can control some things. For my family, I choose not to use products coated with Teflon (and that includes more than just clothing). When so many companies like Lands' End treat so much of their clothing (especially in their men's clothing), it is becoming harder for me to find "safe" clothing for my husband. I just hope more people will vote with their dollars (or letters and phone calls) and let these companies know that while the convenience of stain and wrinkle resistance is nice, good health for our children (and all of us!) is even better.

P.S.- A customer service representative did call me after she received my letter and let me know that she would be passing it on to those higher up. I am looking forward to seeing if they will respond to my concerns. I merely asked them to continue offering their customers a choice on whether to buy treated or untreated clothing.

A Bit of a Book Review

If you are seeking to be more interesting at your next dinner party or at the water cooler, let me recommend the book I just read: "Freakonomics- A Rogue Economist Explored the Hidden Side of Everything" by Steven D. Levitt.

The book's forward explains "As Levitt sees it, economics is a science with excellent tools for gaining answers but a serious shortage of interesting questions. His particular gift is the ability to ask such questions. For instance: If drug dealers make so much money, why do they still live with their mothers? Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool? What really caused crime rates to plunge during the past decade? Do real-estate agents have their clients' best interests at heart? Why do black parents give their children names that may hurt their career prospects? Do schoolteachers cheat to meet high-stakes testing standards? Is sumo wrestling corrupt?"

While I was amused and entertained learning about real-estate agents and the naming choices of blacks and whites, the chapter that grabbed my attention was the one entitled "Where Have All The Criminals Gone? The chapter goes on to explain why the usual explanations for falling crime such as a good economy, larger police presence, prisons and capital punishment are not the true reasons. The actual reason, according to Levitt and others quoted in this chapter is ABORTION. Since abortion became legalized and more "affordable" to the masses, any woman who does not want her child can do away with it (my term, not the author's). And following Levitt's thinking, "Unwantedness leads to high crime." Since legalized abortion led to less unwantedness, abortion therefore led to less crime.

Statistics show that black women abort their children at a higher rate than white women. Since many of the women who abort are from poorer neighborhoods and/or are not in a situation that would make a good environment for raising a child, many of the children who might grow up to become criminals are killed in the womb- the ultimate crime prevention program.

Levitt, while trying to steer clear of the moral implications of abortion, does admit that the loss of 1.5 million lives per year due to abortion is a "terribly inefficient" way to curb crime considering the homicide rate in the U.S. is around 15,000 a year.

I realize that the discussion of statistics in this book is an academic exercise, but how can one not take the implications of these facts, whether they be on cheating, safety or culture and not have them be analyzed through the lens of one's worldview as one reads? My heart bleeds when I read "When a woman does not want to have a child, she usually has a good reason" and "Abortion leads to less unwantedness".

What reason is "good enough" to terminate the life of another? Who determines the "wantedness" of another person? And, sadly, in a Hitler-esque ridding society of the undesirable, it would appear that these statistics tell the truth (at least in part).

While I am grateful for falling crime rates, I cannot help but think of those lives never given a chance. Yes, many of those children probably would grow up to lead destructive lives. Maybe one of them would have grown up to hurt me or someone in my family. But according to the Bible, each life has worth. God gives each of us a choice to choose the right or the wrong. Think of those children who would have chosen the RIGHT. What eternal impact could those children have had on the world? Why were these people never given the chance to choose their path?

Many thoughts are swirling in my head after reading this book. One underlying theme to me is how fallen we all are and how much we need a Savior. It is our human nature to look out for ourself first or cheat if it's to our advantage. I'm sure many of the people who read this book won't be struck by humanity's fallen condition after being entertained by the statistics presented (and really, it is a fascinating read!). But the chapter on abortion hammered home the reality that ideas have consequences and some of those consequences are eternal.

I have enjoyed reading several books this year that have helped me understand our culture better. One book I have read is "Unhooked", about the current s*xual culture of young adults. I have to admit to skipping a couple of chapters in this book as the "muck" got a little much for me. I appreciated the author's conclusions as to the causes of the current s*xual culture, though. Also fascinating was "A Framework for Understanding Poverty" on how difficult it is for someone in generational poverty to rise above their circumstances. "Freakonomics" was another interesting look for me into our society.

And finally, if a real estate agent describes your house as "well-maintained" or "charming", run and find yourself another agent!

Elisabeth Elliot on Motherhood:

When women--sometimes well-meaning, earnest, truth seeking ones say "Get out of the house and do something creative, find something meaningful, something with more direct access to reality," it is a dead giveaway that they have missed the deepest definition of creation, of meaning, of reality. And when you start seeing the world as opaque, that is, as an end in itself instead of as transparent, when you ignore the Other World where this one ultimately finds its meaning, of course housekeeping (and any other kind of work if you do it long enough) becomes tedious and empty.

But what have buying groceries, changing diapers and peeling vegetables got to do with creativity? Aren't those the very things that keep us from it? Isn't it that kind of drudgery that keeps us in bondage? It's insipid and confining, it's what one conspicuous feminist called "a life of idiotic ritual, full of forebodings and failure." To her I would answer ritual, yes. Idiotic, no, not to the Christian--for although we do the same things anybody else does, and we do them over and over in the same way,

But this is what we so easily forget. Men as well as women have listened to those quasi-rational claims, have failed to see the fatal fallacy, and have capitulated. Words like personhood, liberation, fulfillment and equality have had a convincing ring and we have not questioned their popular definitions or turned on them the searchlight of Scripture or even of our common sense. We have meekly agreed that the kitchen sink is an obstacle instead of an altar, and we have obediently carried on our shoulders the chips these reductionists have told us to carry.

Those who focus only on the drabness of the supermarket, or on the onions or the diapers themselves, haven't an inkling of the mystery that is at stake here, the mystery revealed in the birth of that Baby and consummated on the Cross: my life for yours.

The routines of housework and of mothering may be seen as a kind of death, and it is appropriate that they should be, for they offer the chance, day after day, to lay down one's life for others. Then they are no longer routines. By being done with love and offered up to God with praise, they are thereby hallowed as the vessels of the tabernacle were hallowed--not because they were different from other vessels in quality or function, but because they were offered to God. A mother's part in sustaining the life of her children and making it pleasant and comfortable is no triviality. It calls for self-sacrifice and humility, but it is the route, as was the humiliation of Jesus, to glory.

To modern mothers I would say "Let Christ himself be your example as to what your attitude should be. For he, who had always been God by nature, did not cling to his prerogatives as God's equal, but stripped himself of all privilege by consenting to be a slave by nature and being born as a mortal man. And, having become man, he humbled himself by living a life of utter obedience, even to the extent of dying, and the death he died was the death of a common criminal. That is why God has now lifted him so high. . ." (Phil. 2:5-11 Phillips).

It is a spiritual principle as far removed from what the world tells us as heaven is removed from hell: If you are willing to lose your life, you'll find it. It is the principle expressed by John Keble in 1822:

If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

Such encouragement in realizing that the routine of daily life is important, the small and seemingly insignificant tasks of our day have purpose- "The ordinary transactions of everyday life are the very means of transfiguration. It is the common stuff of this world which, because of the Word's having been "made flesh," is shot through with meaning, with charity, with the glory of God."

A bit of a departure...

May I encourage you to go over to Holly's site at "Seeking Faithfulness". She has written a powerful post on Domestic Violence in the Christian home.

Below is an excerpt from Holly's post:

“Another thing you do: You flood the Lord’s altar with tears. You weep and wail because he no longer pays attention to your offerings or accepts them with pleasure from your hands. You ask, “Why?” It is because the Lord is acting as the witness between you and the wife of your youth, because you have broken faith with her, though she is your partner, the wife of your marriage covenant. Has not the Lord made them one? In flesh and spirit they are his. And why one? Because he was seeking godly offspring. So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith with the wife of your youth. “I hate divorce,” says the Lord God if Israel, “and I hate a man’s covering himself with violence as well as with his garment,” says the Lord Almighty. So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith.”

I will say that God hates it when a man mishandles his wife or children. He is a God of justice. (Job 11:14; Job 19:7; Psalm 33:5) He desires for a man to love his wife more than he loves his own body. I believe that he grieves when one of us physically abuses another. (Colossians 3:19, Ephesisans 5:25; 5:28)

So many times in the Christian blog world, we focus on the woman’s role in a marriage – and rightly so. But we do so to the neglect of what is a man’s role. A man is to love his wife, sacrificially. He is to love her as Christ loves the church. He is to honor her, tenderly consider her, be compassionate to her, not harsh with her.

A man of God loves his wife – and he who loves someone does not physically harm them. Children suffer in abusive marriages. I know, because I was raised in one.

http://seekingfaithfulness.wordpress.com/2007/04/12/spousal-abuse-in-a-christian-home/#comments

Here is the direct link to her post. She has other posts from today that are on the top of the page.

Also, as my Dad wished me to clarify, the entire section above is a quote from Holly's blog. The abusive home referenced was Holly's, not mine. I am grateful that the home that I grew up in was not abusive in any way. (Does that clear things up, Dad?)

March 23, 2007

Today is the anniversary of my mother's death, one of the most significant events in my life. I realized today that this particular anniversary of nineteen years since 1988 means that I have lived exactly half of my life without her. In remembering, I think of the lessons I have learned from this experience.

I realized early on - probably around age ten when she was first diagnosed with cancer- that life is short and unpredictable. I knew I didn't want to come to the end of my life, no matter how long it may be, and have regrets about what I should have done or shouldn't have done. I determined that I would not waste time on things that were not important to me.

Many of my life choices have been based on these resolutions made as a child. I married a man who I knew was a good, sincere Christian who wanted the same things out of life that I did. We have been committed to each other and to our family and have tried to keep our priorities in focus as the storms of life have tossed us around.

We homeschool for many reasons but the deciding factor for me ten years ago when we started with Hannah was that I wanted to really know my children and have them know me. How could that happen if they were gone six to eight hours a day? When mom was in the final months of her cancer, I took a break from college and stayed with her. I remember following her around the house while she watered the plants, just soaking up the conversation, knowing that time was short. I had enjoyed public school for the most part but the education I received at home has been far more valuable to me as a Christian wife and mother than anything from the classroom. I am grateful for a system (homeschooling) that allows me to fulfill the need for academic excellence as well as growing and learning together with my husband and children as a family.

I think I would have done this anyway, but knowing that life is unpredictable has helped me be more affectionate with my husband and children, always giving hugs and kisses throughout the day and plenty of "I love you's" are said. I don't want to die without my family knowing how much they mean to me.

I became much more conscious of my diet after my mom died. I read that being a vegetarian could lower cancer rates, so I became one for about seven years after her death. Now we eat meat, but we also eat lots of fruits and vegetables and all of our food is organic (and most is prepared from scratch at home). I am also careful about chemicals and clean our home with more natural cleansers like Bon Ami.

I have learned that I will never stop grieving the loss of my mother on this side of heaven. While this loss no longer affects my day-to-day life, the times when I have experienced other significant losses such as the death of our son, Josiah, at five months gestation, I find myself re-grieving the loss of her as well. I have learned that having loved ones in heaven makes me long for heaven more and motivates me to pray all the more for the salvation of my children and grandchildren. (All of my children have made a profession of faith and two have been baptized.)

Finally, I learned that God doesn't always answer our prayers the way we hoped, no matter how many people are praying for healing and how sincere your prayers are. When mom first died, I thought that when I got to heaven, the first thing I would ask would be, "Why did my wonderful Christian mother have to die so young?" But as I matured, I realized that the reason didn't matter. God is God and whatever He does is right, no matter how things may look to me at the time. So this last lesson I learned is to trust and rest in His goodness (and to hang on tight).

The weather was spring-like yesterday so the kiddos played outside quite a bit after school.

This week I have been spring cleaning and decluttering. It is a monumental task to throw anything out in this family. For example, Brian replaced the chair pads (little felt pads) on the bottom of our kitchen chairs last year. Abby found the old ones in the trash and SAVED them. I had a nightgown that had so many holes in it that it wouldn't even stay on my shoulders, so I threw it away. I found it in the back of Jacob's closet several months later... As you can see, stuff comes in but it rarely goes out. Now when I declutter, I take out the trash before anyone's the wiser.

Hannah has been fighting a stomach bug this week. Some of the girls at Geometry class have been sick the past few months (but still come to class) and I think that's where she picked this up. So far she's the only one affected and she hasn't been too ill.

I'm finishing up my Easter dress today and will start on Hope's dress this weekend. Hannah is ready to cut hers out and then Abby will start on hers. Abby is furiously working on finishing her quilt so she will be done with it before working on her dress.

Brian had a successful presentation at work this week. He was anxious about it beforehand but it went better than he had expected. He is in charge of charting the direction of the computer systems at work (largest worker's compensation company in the state) and thankfully the vice president of his department was impressed.

We read an interesting chapter in our current group reading, "Daily life in the 1920's through 1930's" about the stock market crash and the subsequent bank closings at the start of the Great Depression. We also are reading the book Dad sent, "Penrod and Sam", but sometimes it's difficult to read since I am editing it as I go along. It has a lot of subtle racism in it, probably common for the time period in which it was written.

Happy Birthday to Brian's mother! Her birthday is today, March 17th. His parents are currently busy with their new puppy and with travel and company.

Well, that's our week! Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Spring is on its way. The other day when we were out, we stopped by the park next to Jon's former elementary school and enjoyed the warm sun. Hope played on the slides with the other children there and the older ones ran around on the grass under the trees. It really felt like spring!

Back at home, the snow is melting and the term "mud season" has taken on new meaning. Whereas before we wondered if we would make it up the driveway due to snow and ice, now the car struggles with the incredibly deep mud. Our creek near the road is full and cold. The kids are excited to play in it, since it only has water in it a few times a year. Now, the mud season will overflow into the laundry room, floors, etc.

The forecast calls for temperatures in the 70's by Monday. We are looking forward to it!

More from Jacob

Clean shirt, new shoes
And I don't know where I am goin' to.
Silk suit, black tie,
I don't need a reason why.
They come runnin' just as fast as they can
Coz every girl crazy bout a sharp dressed man.

On the way home Wednesday we were flipping through the radio stations and the song "Sharp Dressed Man" came on. I remembered it from my high school days so we listened to it.

Yesterday Jacob came into the kitchen muttering, "Why would a man dress up in a shark costume?"

Putting two and two together, I let him know that that the song had said a SHARP dressed man, not a SHARK dressed man.

I would love to spend some time inside his head. It sure must be interesting!

Chances Are...

Overheard from the back seat on the way into town:

Jacob: "You know, Hope, you have only an 88% chance of getting married. Not everyone gets married."

When asked where he got his statistics, he replied quietly, "Never mind."

38 by 38

Actually, now this series should be called "38 by 39" since my birthday was on Sunday! Perhaps I will find that I really haven't learned as much as I thought I had! Ah well, humility is a good thing.

Anyway, one thing I learned early on in my parenting career is that some friendships can be hindered by the parenting styles of your friends. For example, I had a good friend who did not teach her children how to behave around others and thought that her toddlers' demanding and aggressive behaviour was just her boys "expressing themselves". Her "little darlings" were so difficult to be around that while I enjoyed the company of the mother, I could not stand to be around the children. Unfortunately, many other people in the church felt the same way about these children and it was clear that the parents would not control the boys. So our family could not get together with this other family for social occasions and for the rare times when we did, our family left stressed and frustrated. Now that the boys are teens, they are a bit better, but still lack social skills that would help them get along with others and in life. This is a shame because the parents are wonderful people and they have not passed down those admirable qualities to their children.

When Hannah was a little tyke, I had a friend that had a daughter who was a year older. This little girl was aggressive and hit other children a lot. When we went over to visit, Hannah would inevitably end up crying within minutes (and she is a tough cookie, so she must have been hit hard). Since the mother (who was a good parent and really tried to get her daughter to develop more self control) was unable to keep her child from hitting everyone, I was not able to continue our play dates and could just meet with the mother from then on. Eventually, the friendship fizzled. I strongly suspect food allergies or other hidden health issues were complicating her parenting efforts, but I cannot confirm that.

Of course, no one will raise their children perfectly and no child is perfect, but I have seen that when parents are not invested in helping their children learn the basic skills of getting along with others, they are handicapping their children both now and in the future. Some children are more of a challenge than others and require much more time and loving effort on the part of the parent, but it is so worth it! We owe it to our children to teach them self control and how to express their needs and feelings constructively. Parents need to stay emotionally connected and involved at each stage of childhood, even when it is tiring and it seems like the struggles will never end. When I have seen parents lovingly and consistently work with their children, I have respect for them, no matter how their children are behaving at the time. And now that I have had Hope for a daughter, I can empathize more fully with parents who have more difficult children! She has worn me out at times but I can say again and again that consistency and loving discipline works!

I list this as one of the things I have learned since it was surprising to me that my friendships after I had children were based more on the compatibility of our whole families rather than just compatibility with the other woman. Since I have always homeschooled, my children are almost always with me and thus friendships have had an added dimension to them.

38 by 38

Sallie over at "A Gracious Home" is turning 40 soon and will be doing a series of posts on forty things she has learned thus far. She is calling it "Forty by forty". I am shamelessly stealing (or commandeering) her idea since my birthday is less than two weeks away. I'm not sure I can come up with 38 things, so I'll start with a few and see how it goes. I would love to hear some things that YOU have learned in your life's journey.

- You can't change people. You can pray for them and try to be a good example though.

- The more I 'm aware of my own sinfulness, the easier it is to forgive others when they hurt me.

- No two people will ever agree completely on everything. And usually, that's o.k.

- People are interesting. You can't put anyone in a "box" and think you've got then all figured out. They'll always find a way to jump out of that box.

- We can be mistaken in our first impressions of someone or a situation.

- It is important to speak kindly to your family members and treat them all with respect. It makes the home a pleasant place to be.

- The hurt when someone you love dies never goes away. It just softens with time.

- The hurt you feel when you lose someone makes you long for heaven much more than you ever would have before than loss.

- Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. There are no eternal consequences if I burn dinner or the underwear comes out from the dryer pink, but it sure does matter how I raise my children.

- It really is more blessed to give than to receive.

- I have less control over my life than I thought I did. But I have more control over my thoughts, actions and responses than I thought I did.

- Life is short. Don't waste time doing or not doing things that you will regret on your deathbed. Also, use the good china. A lot.

More later.

Sprained ankles and Jane Austen

Brian used our new snowplow to plow our driveway and our neighbor's driveway on Saturday. The kiddos were outside for quite a while with him and got tired and sunburned. Afterwards, Abby rested on the couch for a bit, stood up and promptly sprained her ankle. Her ankle was pretty swollen by Saturday night and she stayed off her foot until today when most of the swelling had gone down.

What is an active girl to do when she is confined to the couch with her foot elevated? Watch all the Jane Austen movies that we have in the house (Emma, the six hour version of Pride and Prejudice - "Shelves in the closet? Happy thought indeed!"- as well as the newer two hour version and Sense and Sensibility). I think we have all had our fill of Jane Austen for awhile.

In more domestic news, I am feeling the need to learn how to knit. I have found some patterns that I really, really like and I like them so much that I may have to break down and learn a skill I never liked as a child. I hope knitting is more fun now than it was about 30 years ago. The thing I knitted looked like something a rat had gotten a hold of. Or maybe I could have one of my kiddos learn and I could just supply the pattern and yarn... (or persuade my dear mother-in-law to knit them all for me!)

Finally, for your trivia, we did find our trash cans on Sunday. They had quite a trip, but are now back home safe and sound.

Reflections on a busy day

Thank you, Lord, for the piles of laundry because it means we have plenty to wear.

Thank you, Lord, for the many dishes to wash because it means we have had food to eat.

Thank you, Lord, for the toys scattered around because it means my children have enjoyed playing with each other (usually).

Thank you, Lord, that I have so many sewing projects lined up because it means that my children are growing at a healthy rate.

Thank you, Lord, for the many school papers to look over because it means that my children are faithfully doing their schoolwork and are growing in their knowledge of your world.

"Give thanks in all circumstances", 1 Thessalonians 5:18