Discernment In 2015

One of the more damaging things that dysfunctional homes produce, particularly substance-addiction homes, is children who grow up confusing pity with love. At adolescence these children choose boyfriends or girlfriends they pity, thinking they're in love. They choose friends they pity, thinking they can rescue them. Or they choose friends unwisely simply because, deep down, they don't think they deserve any better.

I have confused pity with love my whole life, and it wasn't until this year, having silenced my mom's voice in my life through an ultimatum--stop drinking and verbally abusing me, or I stop the relationship--that I've become completely conscious of my dysfunctional pitying.

Like so many of my posts, this one is primarily me preaching to myself about past mistakes so I won't repeat them. My word for 2015 is discernment.

Here are a few examples of my folly.

Example 1

There was a 70-year-old woman in our former church who didn't have any family support, no children of her own, who had come out of an abusive childhood home (physical and mental abuse). Abrasive at times, judgmental, and gossipy, she loved attention and would go to great lengths to get it, even monopolizing Bible studies with her grandstanding, exaggerating situations to garner pity, and manipulating people for her own ends. Truly, she only cared about herself and used people at will, but there was some kindness there at times--perhaps just enough to rope people in.

When her Bible study leaders, a married couple, sat down with her and told her she had to change her behavior or not come back to study, she called me and poured out her sob story, garnering much pity, even as I sympathized with her study leaders, being acquainted with her dysfunctional personality myself. What did I do, with my pitying ways? With husband's permission I started a Bible study here for "my friend" and her husband and one other family, with the permission of her former study leaders (the husband being an elder).

They came once and then came up with excuses (and sometimes we had to cancel due to illness), primarily because it wasn't large enough for her to get any real attention, and she didn't want a Bible study. She wanted attention and pity.

When her husband fell on some ice and became partially disabled for a season, she would call and ask to come over and watch a family movie with us, while still not being available for Bible studies. She was desperate for fellowship, she would say, but it always came out the same--her being an attention monger and subtly abrasive, while not really caring about us (isn't true fellowship a give and take?), or even really caring about her husband, although it took time for me to see this truth.

The other family (mother and two adult daughters. one of whom was severely disabled) came for several months, but I had to discontinue it because of worsening anxiety disorders here, and because I learned this family already belonged to six Bible studies. They certainly didn't need another, especially if it was stressful for us, the Bible study invite having included a dinner here beforehand.

I hate quitting things and feel like a failure every time it happens, but I chronically overextend myself and have to quit something at least a couple times a year. This overcommiting is another characteristic of adult children of alcoholics. They try to rescue so many people, they end up messing up their own lives.

That's where I drew the line when deciding whether to quit something: My children come first. God blessed me with them as my primary ministry and responsibility, outside of being a wife.

Some adult children of alcoholics grow up to drink themselves and attract enablers, rather than trying to rescue people (or they do both). I ended up with the least damaging characteristics, and for that I'm grateful to God, who had his hand in my life even before I sought him.

Example 2

We have a neighbor boy who lives with his grandmother, who has raised him since he was 18 months old, following the death of his mother. He came to Bible study here for two years, but that ended recently, and he also accompanies us to AWANA. Learning that three nights per week he had to go with his grandmother on her night-time custodial jobs, lasting until 10 PM, I offered to watch him a couple nights a week. His grandmother initially said she was thinking about asking for my help anyway. She indicated she would call me the next week to discuss it.

Instead of ever calling, she just came to the door one day the next week, and dropped him off, telling me he had autism, anger issues, depression, and ADHD. This gave me no option, without hurting the child, of backing out, in my mind. I hadn't noticed all of these disorders when he came for Bible study. He was relatively easy to deal with in our prior experience, and it didn't seem like it would be an over-extension to help them out.

I didn't like the way she handled it up front, as we weren't prepared for him that first day. Not to mention, I already have my hands full with my own children's disorders. But it felt like the right thing to do, so we gave it a try.

His behavior became problematic within two weeks, primarily because he was here far more hours and became overly comfortable, not caring about displaying his best guest behavior. There were other hardships entailed in the endeavor, including that he frequently came while ill. Over his Christmas holiday from school, we prepared for him as usual, but he never came those two weeks, and we didn't get a phone call. I couldn't go anywhere those days, expecting him at 4 PM each of our non-holiday babysitting afternoons.

He showed up at my door again after he returned to school, with no explanation or phone call. I had called the previous day to say we had the flu, just in case he showed up, but they didn't get the message.

Today I wrote her a note, giving her all the reasons I couldn't continue to help right now--there were four legitimate reasons--and I offered to watch him just once a week after cold and flu season was over, in early May. Beth's arthritis gets worse with each virus, since the autoimmune response to illnesses causes the disease to attack her joints even more. And her immunosuppressant drug makes illness problematic for another reason, although she's made it through the flu without a doctor visit, thank the Lord.

Example 3

I have tried to help other neighborhood kids, telling our friend Lexie to come two afternoons a week for homework help. This child, after already being held back in early elementary, was seriously behind in her first year of middle school, failing most classes.

She either didn't show up on the designated homework days, or she showed up and wasn't interested in doing her homework for more than ten minutes. She wanted to play or have my undivided attention. She and her mother were taking advantage of me. Neither truly cared about this young lady's school performance (her mother refused to work with her, the reasons for which I'm unaware).

I still tried to counsel where I could when she came over to play (which happened less and less as she neared 13 years old) but otherwise I stepped away from this family, who also tried to chronically show up here while ill.

Their mother drinks, which is why I initially felt pulled to help change the course of our young friend's future (education giving her options for success, for example), but in the first few years we knew her, I was unaware of her mother's drinking. The brother came over for mostly outside playtime starting last summer, and he has his own serious problems.

Unfortunately, our young friend Lexie was recently sent back to fifth grade, which is probably all the schools could think of as a solution, given the family's failure to engage. The mother blamed the school problems on her daughter's ADHD, and on the school's failure to make allowances for her daughter's "handicap". Really, that was the easy way out, although I do believe Lexie has learning disabilities. But, she played outside all over the neighborhood and beyond until dark most nights, failing to do any homework. As she gained friends on other streets she was less and less engaged here, and I quickly gave up, perceiving that I wanted her to succeed more than she wanted it herself.

Some people who need help don't want it. They just want attention, but on their terms. They like to complain, but won't listen to solutions or follow through with them. They want your sympathy, your time, your energy, and any other resources you'll give them, but they don't want to behave responsibly or maturely, and unless you're a counselor, you may be wasting your time.

I just got a phone message from the 70-year-old woman from my former church, and it prompted me to sit down and preach this post to myself--warning me against pitying and enabling people who just want to suck me dry.

She left a long message, asking me to request that my children pray for her husband, and telling me many things to garner my pity, while at the same time insulting me subtly. She indicated how much she missed my children, but in truth, when she's here she doesn't pay much attention to them. She just wants our full, undivided attention. The spotlight must be on her, or she's not fulfilled or happy with the situation. I made the mistake of sending her a Christmas card, I suppose, which prompted the call. I had stepped away from her and her ongoing dysfunction last fall.

I have no trouble holding my children accountable for any dysfunctional behavior, but with adults, I shy away from confrontation, unfortunately.

This year, 2015, I will stop making these same mistakes. I must wait when the desire to help (or pity) comes knocking at my heart. Does the person truly want help? Can I really afford the time and effort? Do they have a history of dysfunction, and as such did they find me gullible and attractive as a target? How will it impact my family? What does the Word say? Can I love them through prayer instead? What is my primary motivation in wanting to help--is it love or pity? Prompted by the Word, or something else?

I enjoy immensely the time I spend loving our Compassion children--it's a worthy effort and absolutely deserving of our time and money. I must focus my efforts on my family and these worthy endeavors, and give all the other situations to God.

People stuck in dysfunctional lifestyles don't need other people necessarily, they need God. They need a teachable heart, a repentant heart, a saved heart. Until God gives them that, or until they tire of living in dysfunction and they're motivated to improve, they must be approached with utmost caution.

Romans 14:12 So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.

Romans 2:6 Who will render to every man according to his deeds

Galatians 6:5 For each will have to bear his own load.

Have you had similar experiences? How do you discern who to help, and who to leave to the Lord?

This Just In: Neighbor Boy Becomes Christian!

Despite the fact that the second Ebola-affected nurse's parents live uncomfortably close to us, and she visited them this past weekend, there is something else on my mind.

Landon, a 9-year-old neighbor boy who has been coming to our children's Bible study for almost two years now, and playing here after school for longer than that, became a Christian today! My Peter is quite the evangelist and he could have done it, but he brought a very interested Landon into the house today so I could lead him to Christ. And I did! It was magnificent--the first time I've ever led someone to Christ. I hugged him and told him how exciting it was, and inside my soul rejoiced.

Here's this child who all this time would never pray with us, though he'd listen well enough during the studies. We could never quite figure out how receptive he was, but last year it was clear that he wouldn't identify himself as a sinner. We didn't think much fruit was coming from the Jesus Storybook Bible Study, which has nine lessons left, and now this!

Today Landon complained to Peter about the cussing his grandma and aunt do, and somehow Peter turned that into asking Landon if he wanted to become a Christian. Landon said yes and willingly went through three steps with me:

~ Do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, and that his death on the cross completely covers your sins? Yes, he responded.

~ You need to ask God to forgive all your sins. Are you ready to do that? Yes, he responded, and he repeated a simple prayer of forgiveness.

~ Would you like to ask God to come into your life to be your Lord and Savior? Do you want to live for Him now? Yes, he responded, and repeated a simple prayer asking the Lord to come into his life. 

So simple, but so long in coming. Such an illustration that God is faithful, and that his timetable is not ours.

While the Bible doesn't speak of a "salvation prayer", which is more of a recent thing in our churches, it does teach that we have to believe, to confess, and to make Jesus our Lord.

Whether you consider yourself an evangelist or not (I am not one), it's always good to remember these three simple steps:

ABCs of Salvation

This simple method is easy to remember:

A - All people need forgiveness from God (Romans 3:23).


B - Believe that Jesus is the Son of God and has died for your salvation (Romans 10:10).


C - Confess that you have sinned, and invite Jesus to take control of your life (Romans 10:9)

In a church sermon a couple weeks ago, our pastor went over the past, present, and future of our salvation. Our salvation wasn't and isn't just a momentary thing involving a salvation prayer--it's an on-going miracle :

1. Past - When you first became a Christian, you were justified.


2. Present - Right now you are being sanctified.


3. Future - When you get to heaven, you will be glorified.

Justified, sanctified, glorified.

Thank you, Jesus! May fruit abound in Landon's life, and may his grandmother, who is raising him, come to you very soon. May there be many more who come to you from the list of people we know and love, and from random and regular readers of this blog. Bring them, Father, and may we never be too busy or too embarrassed to speak of our Hope...our first Love...our Beloved Jesus. Thank you for the privilege.

Amen.

Christian Hospitality

I used to be a painfully uncomfortable, inadequate hostess. For one thing I rarely offered hospitality, and when I did stress took over my life in the days leading up to the event. I spent so much time cleaning that things like having ice and enough drinks to serve, were overlooked. The food I'd hoped to prepare mostly ahead of time, allowing leisurely fellowship, was barely getting started when guest walked in. My husband would busy himself preparing a salad while I did the main dish, and the kids entertained the guests.

I tried so hard to relax, but it never happened.

Growing up, I can't remember a single dinner party happening in my secular, alcohol-dysfunction home, so I had no model for hospitality and no memory of its blessings. I didn't even bother inviting childhood friends over, partially because we were a military family who moved frequently.

Enter the Lord Jesus Christ, who never leaves us where we're at.

Do you remember the "Do You Have a Good Story" posts I wrote? We talked about the hurting Body of Christ and how lonely and painful life can get, even as a Christian. Hospitality is one of the answers. Besides prayer, I'd say hospitality is the main answer.

Opening our homes and hearts so prayer and the breaking of bread and the sharing of burdens can occur is a manifestation of Christ's mercy and grace. And I know it is inconvenient.

My 70-year-old friend from church is going through such a trial. Her 73-year-old husband fell on the ice two months ago and he's been in the hospital ever since. She visits him often until midnight, caring for him and comforting him during the depression that's developed from the extended hospital stay. Not to mention, they don't know how they'll pay the medical bills.

We were on spring break from AWANA and it was supposed to be a Sunday to relax, but as I talked with my friend on Saturday night I knew she needed the Body of Christ badly. While she has parents still alive in their nineties and a twin sister, she is estranged from both. Loneliness is a regular companion for this childless couple and along with the extended hospital stay, life feels so heavy for them right now.

The words "Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night" were on my lips, and while in the past I would have squashed them due to my own selfishness and feelings of inadequacy, I uttered them this time and my friend was thrilled.

It was a rushed Sunday morning because my husband was doing snow and ice removal at the church he's employed at, and I was teaching preschool in the children's ministry. Husband wasn't due back until about the time I had to leave for church. He arrives to our church late on these mornings, using his own car. Preparing four children for church as well as myself and gathering my lesson props, was anything but a relaxing beginning.

Coming home to five hours of preparation for a dinner party felt anything but convenient, but I knew God was in it and the outcome would be good. I could feel that this is what dying to ourselves means. This is being the hands and feet of Christ. I could feel it and it wasn't so hard after all.

But at first it feels hard, as our hearts reform and become more suited for servanthood. It feels hard to teach at church or work the nursery week after week instead of enjoying the music and relaxing in a chair for 90 minutes. It feels hard to have Bible studies in my busy home; it feels hard to make the time to call people when my to-do list is never ending...especially those who talk for forty minutes if left unchecked.

But this is what's missing in the Body of Christ. This inconveniencing ourselves to carry each other's burdens. Life this side of heaven could be better than all the loneliness and despair going on if we could only go beyond our comfort zone. If we could only get beyond the me-first mentality.

Our impromptu dinner party included a pot of 13-potato soup, turkey bacon cooked for a topper, bakery wheat french bread, and a batch of chocolate chip cookie bars, which I made while the potatoes boiled. I still forgot to make ice but she doesn't use it anyway, and I still only had milk and Country Time Lemonade on hand. I didn't go to the store for salad fixings or anything, but used only what I had on hand.

And do you know what? My friend--who has lost 15 pounds during her ordeal--ate two large bowls of soup topped with turkey bacon and cheese, and three pieces of french bread with butter, along with two cookie bars. I was so tickled.

I have plain dishes and few of my silverware match. My tabletop is veneer and it's deteriorating fast. Only recently do my glasses match and at the rate they're breaking, they won't much longer. I'm an unlikely hostess, but afterward my friend gave me a teary hug and said, "Thank you for being my family. It's been so long since I've felt part of a family. I can't thank you enough."

My Beth wore her ill-fitting princess dress and the hand-me-down ballet shoes a friend sent her, and she danced her graceful made-up dances and sang about Jesus to my friend. We watched a delightful old movie and Beth told my friend how nice she was, and could she cuddle next to her during the movie?

I was so proud of my family, who became this woman's family for four wonderful hours.

No, let me rephrase that to reflect more of the truth. I was so happy with my Jesus, who did many things in my heart and in my family's hearts in the past 18 months, making it possible for our family to become the hands and feet of Christ to a hurting church, on a Sunday we thought was for us.

It turned out to be a Sunday for Jesus and it was so much better than anything we could have put together ourselves. We did relax. We did rejuvenate. We did feel joy. All the things we wanted to happen on our Sunday off AWANA, happened, but not the way we planned.

Jesus never leaves us where we're at, and that's reason enough for joy. He has taught me so much and they have been gentle, incremental lessons, starting with the idea 18 months ago of starting a neighborhood Bible study in our home. That was the first step of obedience, and at the time I didn't know how I would manage. Life was already messy and it just didn't seem like the right time.

Honestly, is it ever the right time?

I don't know where you are in your hospitality and being-the-hands-and-feet-of Jesus journey. Most of you are probably farther along than me and have been hostesses for years. But for those of you for whom this is new ground, I want to say, jump in.

The Lord is gentle and his lessons are life-changing. Our only part, really, is obedience. And I know that's hard, believe me. In return we get to share in God's glory and that is better than anything we can put together ourselves. Nothing is more satisfying or fulfilling than God's glory shining through you...your family...your heart and home.

Open it and feel God's goodness. Open it and be His goodness.

1 Peter 4:9 Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.   

Romans 12:13 Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.

Titus 1:8 But hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined.

Proverbs 31:20 She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy

Galatians 5:13 For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another

Desires Fulfilled...In God's Timing

For a long time I've mourned the absence of a creative domestic mentor in my life. My own mother never had any interest in sewing, knitting, crocheting, quilting, canning, baking, or cooking from scratch. On my own, during the last three and a half years, I've learned to cook from scratch, bake from scratch, and even make pies, but pie crusts and yeast still intimidate me. Sometimes I manage a bread loaf or some cinnamon rolls that come out beautifully, and other times the yeast confounds me. Or a child plays with the yeasty loaf after I’ve patiently let it rise, and suddenly it’s flat again. Bread dough is not Playdoh, I reprimanded them.

In my home there are no made-by-me quilts, Afghans, dresses, scarves, or sweaters. Some women have no interest in these things, but to me they’re as much a draw as the four seasons were when I was growing up in California.

I guess I just long for the old-fashioned, early 20th century life, sans the skinning of squirrels and deer, and the scarlet fever and polio.

The Lord knows the desires of our hearts, and even when we don’t make a campaign of prayer over a desire, he still comes through to delight us. I’ve prayed some for a domestic mentor, but not consistently and not as fervently as I pray for other things. But still, the longing was there, and God knew it.

This last Saturday a friend from church came over for dinner with her two daughters. They taught us to knit, and promised to also show us crochet, quilting, needlepoint, and sewing. We had the best time!

My friend’s husband died of a massive heart attack 8 years ago at the age of 54, leaving her with triplets who all have disabilities, including one daughter who is profoundly mentally disabled, being 20 years old and functioning like a 3-year-old child. The triplets were born at 28 weeks gestation, and the more disabled one, Laura, weighed a little over a pound. Sadly, she had a stroke, which can happen to the smallest-weight babies. The doctors told my friend that she and her husband should “pull the plug” on Laura because she would never be able to walk or talk.

Being Christians and parents who tried for 12 years to have children (3 miscarriages), they told the doctors they would take what God gives, and Laura did walk and talk by three years old.

She is still serviced by the local high school’s special education department, despite turning 21 years old soon, but she doesn’t know how to read. My daughter Beth brought a library book and sat next to Laura, asking her to please read it. The look on Laura’s face broke my heart. She seems like a happy young lady, don’t get me wrong, but I wonder if she wishes she could read?

Lastly, this family is rather poor, living in a trailer. They are forgotten by the world, but dearly loved by our Holy God.

What’s so wonderful to me is that my new friend needed a friend, as much as I needed someone who could teach me and my children (yes, even the boys want to learn) how to knit and create beautiful things.

She needed more than a friend, actually. She needed another whole family to fellowship with, laugh with, and share burdens with.  She needed a family who also has little money, so as not to embarrass her with invitations and outings she can’t afford, or with great stylish outfits, compared to her simple, worn, thrifted clothes. Someone who would make a wholesome meal and say: come as you are and gather at our table. (My friend is not a cook and appreciates someone serving her a homemade meal).

My son Peter, who has the more severe OCD compared to Paul, has often lamented that no one understands him…and yet my friend? She has OCD; she understands.

The less disabled of the daughters is going to a two-year college to become a vet tech. She has some cerebral palsy (but I certainly didn’t detect it), and a learning disability that affects her comprehension. She will take six years to finish a two-year program, because she can’t handle a full college load. Still, she is earning all A’s, two classes at a time.

Peter struggles with dysgraphia and it will do him good to have a friend who understands that you can be smart, but need more time than others, and that’s okay…it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

The Body of Christ: sometimes it’s a disappointment, isn’t it? Sometimes there is just no one there who understands or has time, or who will refrain from judgment.

Sometimes it can seem like even God isn’t there, and this is the time for real faith. This is the time to remember that to the Lord, a thousand years is as a day.

2 Peter 3:8-9 But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.

In God’s timing, we are filled. Praise Him!

Homeschool and Mother's Journal Nov 8

In my life this week…

This week I'm preparing for a dinner party, which is a brave undertaking for me. Normally I have only one or two people over at a time, but this time two sets of aunts and uncles are coming, and possibly a single friend.

My dad's mom and my mom's mom were placed in the same nursing home in Ohio years ago, and miraculously, they ended up in the same room.  My family lived in CA at that time, where I was going to college.

Thrown together often due to frequent nursing home visits, were my dad's sister and my mom's sister. These two aunts became friends and have remained close for the past twenty-two years, and it's these ladies and their husbands who will grace our home this Saturday. We don't see them often, although they live quite close; one had 6 children and the other had 4, so their families and grandkids keep them plenty busy.

Of all the things I could make to feed 11 people--with most of the work done ahead of time--I decided on a soup and salad and bread bar. Thus, I have four soups to prepare, two different kinds of breads, and a large salad with side fixings, plus a chocolate cake to prepare. One aunt is also bringing a dessert.

I decided on these soups:

potato soup with bacon
sausage tortellini soup
navy bean with ham
taco soup (with milder Rotel this time around)

And these breads:

honey corn bread
pumpkin bread
whole wheat french bread

And then of course, there's the house and the four kids to wrangle with as well, which is why I don't often entertain on larger scales.

Paul will play 3 songs on the piano for entertainment, and the girls and Peter will recite Bible verses they've learned in AWANA, and possibly a silly Thanksgiving turkey song. Only one of my aunts is Christian--only four Christians exist in my entire clan, both sides included--but I decided that leaving out the verses for the sake of the non-Christian aunt and uncle would be as though I'm ashamed of the Gospel.

At any rate, I'm praying for hearts to receive His truth.

My 90-year-old father-in-law is still in the rehab center in Florida. They keep pushing back his release date for various reasons. He wants to go back to his Florida home, living alone with part-time hired help, but that is not what doctors recommend for him. He already had a second fall, this time in the rehab center bathroom. He can't stand hands-free without losing his balance, so they have an alarm and device on his bed to prevent him from getting up without help.

We call him several times a week, and those conversations can be stressful because he's just so stubborn, though I understand him feeling like a prisoner. He doesn't want to live with us, or in an assisted living facility near us. His decision puts pressure on his neighbors, which bothers us because it should be family shouldering any burden of his care, not neighbors.

But, we can't force him and the assisted-living facilities charge an average of $3500 a month, which is not covered by medicare (only nursing homes are). He has enough money but feels sick about giving it to these facilities, which provide only mediocre care at best, due to hiring low-wage workers with high turn-around.

We have much to pray about and we have to cling to the Father in hope. We want my father-in-law's last years to be full of dignity, and yet we can't move down there for various reasons. His house is a tiny one-bedroom with bonus sunroom, for one thing.

In our homeschool this week…

The boys have added Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr, as we hang out in Japan this week. I cried and cried at this story and I feel for the boys as they near the ending. It's yet another reminder that war is devastating and ugly and should never be taken lightly. As we read the news about various wars, it's far different than delving into the story of one person affected by the events.

Personal stories help children learn the most facts and uncover all the layers of a topic, more effectively than non-fiction at some levels, and I'm glad Sonlight includes both for our enrichment.



Scholastic Synopsis: Two-year-old Sadako Sasaki was living in Hiroshima when the atom bomb was dropped. Sadly, ten years later, she was diagnosed with leukemia, also known as "atom bomb disease."

There is a Japanese legend that says that if a sick person folds 1,000 paper cranes, the gods will make her well again. Sadako spent long hours in bed, folding those paper cranes, and never giving up that hope. When Sadako had folded six hundred and forty-four cranes, and they hung above her bed on strings, her classmates folded the rest.

Today there is a memorial in Hiroshima Peace Park dedicated to Sadako. Children come there and leave the paper cranes they make in her honor.

Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes is based on a true story.

As my children delve into Sonlight's Eastern Hemisphere package, they're learning about other religions (and cultures) with the purpose of praying for the lost and better understanding the depth of their confusion and deception. Most of the nations they're learning about are in the 10/40 missionary window--the largest concentration of unreached people groups of the world.

The purpose is not to accept that every nation has its own religion and that's okay. Instead, they're learning that we can show respect for all people while still praying they'll come to know Truth. Buddhism is the most difficult, so far, and it does bother Peter's OCD to read about it, but we're getting through it.

Islam, Judaism and Christianity are similar in that they share some Bible scripture beginnings, with the first two departing from Christianity at some point in the Old Testament.

Other School News: After lunch each day we read a Thanksgiving book, and then make a construction paper leaf, writing on it what we're thankful for that day. We then tape it on a Thanksgiving Tree my Paul designed on white butcher paper. You could make this quite elaborate, but we're simple here most of the time.

The children and I are really enjoying this, and wanted to recommend some Thanksgiving books for you. I've always loved teaching the Thanksgiving story, and I admit to owning all of these books and more over the years.




The Thanksgiving Story, by Alice Dalgliesh

Publisher Synopsis: Dagliesh and Sewell received praise for the clarity and immediacy of their picture book, a hit of the season in 1954. Today's children, beginners and advanced readers, will value the story about one family's first Thanksgiving in the Plymouth Colony, strikingly present in stylized, naive pictures like colored etchings. Giles, Constance and Damaris Hopkins are aboard the Mayflower, overcrowded when the Speedwell turns back to England. On the journey, the children's baby brother is born and named Oceanus; he will be one of the smallest in the company of settlers who endure the terrible first year in the New World and gather to celebrate the harvest the next November. The story ends with the great feast to which the colonists invited the Indian chief Massasoit, Squanto and their people who had helped the strangers survive hunger, cold and sickness.



N. C. Wyeth's Pilgrims, text by Robert San Souci

Publisher Synopsis: The adventurous saga of the settling of the Plymouth Colony is strikingly portrayed in this magnificent book. Spectacular paintings by renowned artist N.C. Wyeth, gloriously bring to life the carefully researched text by well known children's book author Robert San Souci. The story of the Pilgrims, including the first Thanksgiving, is a central part of America's history and, over the course of time, it has taken on an almost mythical quality. Drawing upon a variety of resources, including the author's trip to the Plimouth Plantation, the text dispels some popular misconceptions about the setting of our nation as it broadens our understanding of the bravery and determination of our forebears. A beautiful artbook as well as an informative history book, N.C Wyeth's Pilgrims belongs in every home, library, and classroom.



The Very First Thanksgiving Day, by Rhonda Gowler Greene

Publisher Synopsis: The story of the first Thanksgiving celebration, told in cumulative rhyme, introduces young readers to America's most beloved national tradition, which began with a shared feast to rejoice in the bounty of the land, new beginnings, and peace between two societies.

Exquisite paintings by Susan Gaber transport the reader back to the earliest days of American history with meticulous detail and breathtaking imagery. Sure to be a yearly favorite, The Very First Thanksgiving Day will resonate with readers young and old on this day for thanks and blessings.

Samuel Easton's Day: A Day in the Life of a Pilgrim Boy, by Kate Waters

Publisher Synopsis: Samuel Eaton is a young boy living in an early American settlement in the year 1627, and today is the day he will help with his first rye harvest! If he can prove to his father he's up to the task, he will be able to help with all of the harvest. But harvesting rye is even more difficult than he expected. Was he foolish to think he could do a man's work?

Text and photographs follow a six-year-old Pilgrim boy through a busy day during the spring harvest in 1627: doing chores, getting to know his Wampanoag Indian neighbors, and spending time with his family.

Sarah Morton's Day: A Day in the Life of a Pilgrim Girl, by Kate Waters

Publisher Synopsis: At sunup when the cockerel crows, young Sarah Morton's day begins. Come and join her as she goes about her work and play in an early American settlement in the year 1627.
There's a fire to build, breakfast to cook, chickens to feed, goats to milk, and letters and scripture to learn. Between the chores, there is her best friend, Elizabeth, with whom she shares her hopes and dreams. But Sarah is worried about her new stepfather. Will she ever earn his love and learn to call him father?



The First Thanksgiving, by Garnet Jackson

Publisher Synopsis: When the Pilgrims landed in New England, many died during the first harsh winter. This easy-to-read story describes the first Thanksgiving celebration and tells how Native Americans helped the Pilgrims through that first difficult year.



The Pilgrim's First Thanksgiving, by Ann McGovern

Publisher Synopsis: Elroy Freem (the pseudonym of a popular children's book artist) gives this reissue of a favorite story new life. Teachers, parents, and children will give thanks for this easy-to-read, larger format book with lively, full-color illustrations.

This particular book is full of rich details; I feel the above synopsis doesn't do it justice.



The First Thanksgiving, by Linda Hayward

Publisher Synopsis: Young readers start the familiar story behind our tradition of Thanksgiving Day in England in 1620, when the Pilgrims are setting sail for far-off America, leaving behind friends and safe homes. The reasons for their journey, the trials they endure while at sea, and all of their amazing adventures are detailed in this easy-to-read book.                                                                                                                                    



On the Mayflower: Voyage of the Ship's Apprentice & a Passenger Girl, by Kate Waters

School Library Journal Synopsis: Photographed on the Mayflower II, a replica of the original ship, this fourth book in an acclaimed series charts the high seas friendship of two young passengers. "Well written, designed, and photographed." — School Library Journal

Helpful homeschooling tips or advice to share…

When I can't think of a specific tip, I like to just say...pray, pray, pray. It's the single best course of action for any homeschooling mother. It ensures that God's will is alive in our homeschool.

Places we’re going and people we’re seeing…

We went to Beth's three-month rheumatology check, and thankfully, they aren't increasing any of her medicines, though her swelling is up. They told me they expect arthritis flares after any surgery (she had her tonsils out last July). She is getting around pretty well and not complaining of pain, so I am very, very, thankful.

We don't go a lot of places or sign up for a lot of events, because the minute we prepare for an outing and leave the house, we lose academic time. As most of you well know, it's hard to get back in the groove with school after an outing. We choose very carefully how we'll spend our time, making sure the children have far more down time than running around time. Every family is different, but we're happy in our home together. The kids generally hate driving around unless it's for a seasonal field trip.

My favorite thing this week was…

Mary, age 6, made up a worship song stanza, which delighted me. I've also enjoyed every Thanksgiving reading segment this week.

And every time I sit down with my children individually to study AWANA verses, I'm so blessed. We sit in a rocker together and make it a special cuddling time.

My kiddos favorite thing this week was…

They love company, so I can tell you ahead of time they'll say having a dinner party was their favorite.

Things I’m working on…

I'm losing the migraine battle, so I began again taking the Elavil I wrote about a few weeks ago (a daily preventative medicine). I'm working on getting over the grief that this is even necessary, and trying to be patient as my body gets used to the medicine.

I’m cooking…

crockpot black bean soup
whole baked chicken
homemade chicken noodle soup
shepherd's pie
sausage marinara spaghetti
tortellini soup
potato soup
crockpot navy bean soup
taco soup

I’m grateful for…

~ a Compassion letter from Burkina Faso

~ a warm home for these cold November days (first real snow on its way, I'm told)

~ a husband who listens

~ sweet kids growing in the Lord

~ grace for the hard days

~ children who forgive each other

~ a huge leaf pile (Peter's hard work, mostly)

~ Peter offering to rake and gather the neighbor's leaves, and doing a good, thorough job. They didn't say thank you (he told them it was for his leaf compost), but I praised him for his hard work and diligence.

~ pumpkin smells in the kitchen

~ looking forward to fellowship with aunts and uncles

A quote to share...

Proverbs 16:3
Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.

Thank you for reading. Have a wonderful day!





 top image

In Which I Share My Worst Parenting Day

I don't know how to begin this post except to say: parenting is shockingly hard.

Bedtime's been a nightmare around here the past few months. The boys have always shared a room peacefully, but lately they play off each other in waves of mischief, sometimes lasting an hour.

Silliness at teeth brushing, scaring each other after lights out, throwing clothes, giggling. A whole slew of consequences haven't changed a thing, with Peter being the instigator most of the time, and Paul allowing himself to be led astray.

Just when Mom and Dad are feeling the most spent, comes the worst part of the day. These boys are old enough to be more sensitive to their parents' exhaustion.

Last night, after problems with neighbor kids just hours before, I was so. done. with. child. rearing. So beyond exasperated. Peter got the rare spanking, which he's really two years too old for. I didn't do it, I confess, because I thought it was the answer, but because in my exhaustion and exasperation, I wanted to punish him for the stress he causes night after night.

Whenever a spanking is given to punish, either consciously or subconsciously, it's never good parenting. It's broken parenting. Our aim as Christian parents is to shepherd, not punish. Punishing--outside of a civic, societal function--is about getting back at someone, not redirecting them toward righteousness.

A calmly-given spanking can be part of good parenting, I do believe, but I wasn't calm (don't worry though--there's not a mark on him).

After all were asleep, I was heartbroken and empty. I wanted real answers, not just grace. I knew if I sat down and recited the 23rd Psalm and prayed, and quietly let the Holy Spirit minister to me, I would recover.

But I wanted more than recovery...I wanted all the trouble to disappear. I wanted beautiful nights of parenting, executed as gracefully as an expert ballet performance. A true art form.

My husband is gone 12 hours a day Monday through Friday, and 6 hours on Saturday, which leaves me with a full-to-the-brim load. The lower your income is the more hours you need to work (and sometimes the higher your income and responsibility, the more you need to work).

With the homeschooling, the chores, the various disorders represented here, and the neighbors who congregate here by the threes after 3:30 PM, while I'm trying to put school supplies away, switch laundry, do dishes, and make dinner...well, it's too much.

My kids behave better when they play with just each other, so in the healing time last night, as I asked for real answers, it came to me that it was quite reasonable to limit the neighbor childrens' visits to just the weekend, when my husband is available to watch everyone outside. He loves the outdoors anyway, and with perimenopausal upheaval happening to me when I least expect it, I simply can't pack my days as full as before, and maintain the same level of sanity.

Being in the middle of this, I'd say it's probably easier to go through menopause when your kids are young, verses when they're teens and in upheaval themselves. One of the blessings to having kids later in life?

I suspect so.

My boys tend to rush through their afternoon school to be done in time for the neighbor children's inevitable knocks. Yesterday I had Lexie insist she wanted to hang around our yard while we finished school. She even went into our shed, making herself at home with Peter's pet snake, and later staring into our window, checking on our progress. I felt so invaded and the kids couldn't concentrate; the boys made terrible spelling errors.

We had an ADHD/OCD pediatrician appointment, and a library stop, both of which slowed us down and made school go later.

Lexie went on to entice my six year old into a tree that was way too large for her to handle, prompting me to send all the kids home. It took me telling Lexie four times before she would leave the yard. I was terribly exasperated, but I also had compassion on her mom, because if she's this bad over here, she's far worse at home.

It occurred to me, too, that as a parent I would never send my children to the same house day after day, expecting the mom there to watch her own kids as well as mine. That's just rude and yet these parents have done it for over a year, never checking on their own kids or asking if I mind the nearly-daily invasion.

I don't allow my children to visit neighbors' yards or houses, in fact, because I think a parent-extended invitation is important, and because there are no Christian parents on this street anyway.

The Holy Spirit brought other solutions to my mind, too, such as putting one boy in the master bedroom until both are asleep, and the one can be carried back to his own bed. It's not ideal, but it should help. Also, Peter will be given time to read in bed to help him relax and stay out of mischief, and he'll be allowed to sleep later in the morning to compensate.

Today has gone far better so far, even with speech appointments interrupting us again.

During morning devotions I read aloud some commentary on our Matthew passage:

Commentary from Life Application Study Bible on Matthew 13:8, pg 1674:

This parable should encourage spiritual "sowers"-- those who teach, preach, and lead others. The farmer sowed good seed, but not all the seed sprouted, and even the plants that grew had varying yields. Don't be discouraged if you do not always see results as you faithfully teach the Word. Belief cannot be forced to follow a mathematical formula (i.e., a 4:1 ratio of seeds planted to seeds sprouted). Rather, it is a miracle of God's Holy Spirit as he uses your words to lead others to him.

I choked up reading this, on the morning after my hardest day. Children, in other words, will not necessarily show fruit in direct proportion to our evangelism and discipleship efforts--neither our own children or the neighbor children. But our words do matter. Our obedience matters.

It may seem to me that my boys should be more sensitive to Mom's and Dad's feelings at their ages, but God is working through the Word, and through our discipleship, nevertheless. Our home may not be spilling with spiritual fruit right now, but I believe every passage we read, everything we teach, everything we model (yikes!), will shape their hearts for life.

So often with parenting, the rewards come later. So often as Christians, in fact, the rewards come later. It's hard to labor day after day, knowing the rewards are far removed.

But in the meantime there is grace. There's wisdom freely given to the prayer warrior.

There's a quiet Savior whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light, who quiets me by his love.

Zephaniah 3:17 The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.
Romans 8:37-39 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So, how was your parenting day?

A Saturday for Him

Saturday morning. We should have a spring in our step that day, yes? The end of a hard week and usually some guaranteed relaxation, even for moms who still have laundry and dishes and spills staring us in the face.

I wanted to have a spring this morning...some extra joy. I wanted to give glory to God with my gratitude, but I struggled for hours.

We used to do our neighborhood Children's Bible Study every Saturday during the school year, but when summer arrived we changed it to every other week. We'd planned to go back to every Saturday this fall, but the children's ministry job cropped up for me, so I told the neighbors we needed to keep it to every other week.

But then life happens and we had to do it two weeks in a row to accommodate a trip to the Apple Orchard (still haven't been there due to weather...hoping for next Sat.).

So I awoke this morning with housekeeping and delegating hanging over my head, and my husband, as usual, working until 1:30 PM on Saturday.

The nothing-to-look-forward-to blues hit me hard and my thanks were few. The neighbor kids have multiple issues making them high maintenance; I didn't want to see them today, much less prepare my heart or home for them.

Yesterday, one of them, the girl about whom I frequently write, told Peter she wanted him to dig up the dead hamster's body so she could see it. He refused and told her she was crazy. She pouted and kept insisting but eventually she dropped it.

Peter didn't share this with me until this morning, and of course I was furious with her selfish, shocking nonsense. My heart was insistent that I don't owe this crazy girl a thing, and I'm sick of the whole business.

So I cleaned the house with a pout in my heart for a couple hours, and then the Holy Spirit dealt with me.

Whose life is this anyway? Yours, or mine? Whose Saturday is it...yours, or mine? Didn't I suffer on a tree, separated from my Father, to give you life? Aren't you bought and paid for? That crazy girl matters to me. Her soul matters to me. I expect you to live for me and get ready to serve these children this afternoon, with a smile in your heart.

Well, I didn't exactly have a smile in my heart, but I managed to finish cleaning and delegating and preparing the rest of the lesson.  I practiced a smile for two crazy neighbor kids.

The young lady arrived an hour early because her mother and grandmother went shopping.

Wonderful. I wasn't ready, and it looked like I was babysitting. My attitude flared again and I kept practicing that smile.

Fast forward two hours and the study is over. My kids and the neighbor kids are outside playing football with my husband. I watched them play in the muddy yard, a light rain dropping.

I saw such joy.

Neither of these children have a father in their lives, and that football game delighted them. The fellowship, the exuberance, the smiles...it was all perfect. God was glorified in that scene and I realized for the thousandth time as a Christian...It's not about me. I really am bought and paid for, and my Saturdays really aren't my own.

And watching that scene as though it were a movie? Well, it delighted me. It gave me such fulfillment, seeing my Savior as the star, front and center.

The greatest joy we can possibly experience? It comes from living for Him.

He takes our obedience and in turn, He gives us Life...Abundant.


image

A Portrait of True Hospitality

The surest way to judge someone's hospitality gift is to take your touchy-feely littles over to their house. Do you know what I'm saying, mamas? The experience can be warm and wonderful, or nerve-wracking and disastrous. You might drive away from one house with the warm fuzzies, and from another horribly embarrassed and lecturing the little ones.

And afterwards, spankings handed out at home, you slump in a chair, wondering what in the world happened. You don't often have this kind of trouble with them; by golly, what was it today ?

Maybe you feel a tad guilty for disciplining them, because somehow, you feel partially responsible.

I'm not saying kids should be allowed to climb all over furniture and break knickknacks, making nuisances of themselves. It might happen occasionally with the under-four set, but it's never okay; discipline required.

Today we took a quick trip over to an aunt's house and stayed outside. We hadn't been there in quite some time, and we found they had new things in their yard, like a brick-bordered flowerbed and an eye-level windchime. My 4-and 6-year-old girls were touchy-feely, wanting to rattle the windchime a bit and walk along the brick border. I said no and pulled them away, but it took a few times for them to get the message. They weren't rough or doing any harm; they couldn't have ruined anything they touched or stepped on. I just wanted to prevent any disasters and set the tone.

One thing's for sure, they didn't understand my nervous vibes. 

Friends, this aunt and uncle care about their stuff. They don't want little hands checking out the lace on their curtains. There's no materialism in the sense that they buy every new thing--they live modestly in fact--but their house is filled with knickknacks purchased as gifts probably from their kids and grandkids. Nothing pricey, but there's always the nervous tension that comes when people who care about their stuff encounter little children.

I feel this tension the moment we arrive, and it steadily climbs. My kids are curious in that house, possibly because I have very few knickknacks, preferring a tidier look to my rooms. Neither my walls nor my tabletops are cluttered or busy.

As soon as we got into the van after the 20-minute visit, I was livid with the girls. My aunt hadn't seen them in quite a while and her impression was surely that they were testy, ornery girls, when in fact, I rarely have trouble with them in public places.

Once home, as the clocked ticked into the afternoon, I continued to teach, hang laundry, and wipe down bathrooms, but all the while I stewed and tried to get to the bottom of the whole behavioral nightmare and what part I might have played in it.

It really puzzled me, because in the last two weeks we've been to the AWANA leader's house twice, and both times it was a wonderful experience.

Do you know what Erica, the leader said, almost right away, the first time my 4-year-old reached to touch something?

"Oh, that's okay. They can touch anything; I don't care about my stuff."

She had few knickknacks, thank goodness, and what's more, she hadn't bothered to mop or vacuum before the two social events we were there for. There wasn't clutter, but since the house was also home to two frisky dogs, it definitely didn't have a clean appearance.

I marveled at this because I stress about my house and clean it right perfect before I have guests...at great cost to the whole family and to my time. I would probably have people over a lot more if I didn't feel a certain level of cleanliness was required. Clutter is not good, but do all the floors need mopped, and does the bathroom need to shine just so, as well as the wood?

For heaven's sake, no. Why can't I get that?

My whole family loves going to Erica's house, who is a wife and a mom to two teens, and a children's church coordinator. She loves my kids and she loves having us and many more families over for cookouts.

She says the same thing to every parent: "I don't care about my stuff."

And something happens to every parent upon hearing this. They relax. And the more relaxed Mom and Dad are, the less the kids get testy. The better they behave and the more they charm, because there's no tension in the air to mess everyone's emotions up.

The Lord opened my eyes to several things today, including my ugly pride.

I'm not exactly going to give my girls an apology for spanking them after the visit, because they did defy me, after all, about touching things.

But now I'm more keenly aware of the tension-over-stuff phenomena that occurs at some houses. And instead of going to those houses, I'll invite them to my house instead, if possible.

Here, we don't care about our stuff.

And in the future, this Momma is going to care less about cleanliness and concentrate instead on clearing clutter. I'm far more likely to extend hospitality when I only have clutter to attend to, and not three hours of cleaning on top of it.

Will people notice some dirt? Maybe. Will it make them think less of me? Probably not. Will they feel comfortable in my home, like they can relax, put their feet up and enjoy the fellowship? Absolutely.

What would Jesus do? 

He would care about people. The human angle always...never the material angle. He would have Christians gather together often, not just in the church building on Sunday, but in each other's homes, building one another up in Christ. Laughing, dining, loving, praying. Doing life together and bearing burdens.

Now, your turn. What have you learned about hospitality?

Ephesians 6:7
Rendering service with a good will as to the Lord and not to man,

image

Thankful Thursday: Blessing Others

Newly pregnant with my girls, I experienced pervasive morning sickness for about ten weeks (not much actual vomiting, but a 24-hour-a-day nausea with no appetite). I became more and more depressed and nauseous as my little boys expended their normal energy and I couldn't keep up. Or slow them down. 

The condition is aggravated by stress so the more they ran around, the worse I felt.

Each of my pregnancies affected my husband's work life; he had to modify his hours to help me, both in the beginning, and at the end when the blood pressure problems arrived.

He cried at the ultrasounds and at the births, and when he held our new babies, but every time I announced a new pregnancy, his countenance fell.

Oh, no. Not that stress again.

We didn't have enough support, partially because so many women work nowadays...even older women.

As I reclined on my couch, my stomach teasing me, I pleaded with God to make my boys slow down and watch PBS. We had cable at that time but I don't remember it helping.

I remember vowing to God...If I ever know someone going through this, I will not turn away or be too busy to help. I will be your grace. Your love with skin on.

The pastor of the AWANA church has a pregnant wife and an active, exceptionally adorable 4-year-old boy named Haddon. I've had him in AWANA Cubbies for verse time all this year. I couldn't love him any more than I do...but I'm sure I will. 

If I'd married younger and my husband agreed, I would have had ten children at least. I love a large brood.

Anyhow, what I mean to say is...I offered my help to this couple and they've accepted, though I don't know how often yet. Pastor said last night that he'd give us a couple days notice and not just call on a whim, saying he was bringing Haddon over.

But last night I thought a lot about hospitality. Opening my home to help means it needs to be open anytime (except on physical therapy day). Hospitality isn't letting someone worry about giving 48-hour notice.

I'm trying to get myself on a stricter schedule so I'm ready at any time. Haddon will fit right in with my kids, especially since we all think he's the most wonderful little boy. Everything he says tickles us silly and we find even his stuttering problem very endearing.

God has spoken again to me about organization. Blessing others--being Jesus with skin on--is far easier when we run our own lives efficiently. The more time I take for my interests, like blogging or reading, the less time I can give to others. The more activities I get my children involved with, the same is true--the less time we have to bless others and the less my children grow up valuing service.

The Lord puts together opportunities for my children; I don't have to chase them. The piano just landed in our laps and Paul plays beautifully learning from quality books on his own.

Our friend Dean from California does woodworking, for example, and Peter has developed an interest in building his own birdhouses. No class required! Dean loves to help others and he needs the company and the home-cooked meals, as much as Peter needs the training with tools.

Now back to the Holy Spirit's voice on organization...in order to give God his due time, I have to compartmentalize and prioritize better.

I don't want to offer up just my prayer and Bible reading time, but also time to bless others, especially when it flows naturally from my care of my own children. My four benefit from our Saturday Children's Bible Study too, so I'm not taking away from my own as I bless other children. The same will be true when Haddon spends time with us.

The Lord pours into us vertically so we can use our overflowing hearts to bless others. His love isn't meant to be hidden in our hearts, but to be exposed and expressed outwardly. 

We never help anyone in our own strength. He equips us.

The most important lesson I had to learn--coming from a broken Catholic tradition and finally learning about a personal relationship with Jesus--is that I wasn't supposed to try and be a good girl all on my own, frustrating my heart and spiraling into defeat.

Yes, God asks us to be Holy. But that holiness flows through Him into us...as Grace.

Giving thanks today...

Thank you, Father...

...that Beth's arthritis is finally responding to the methotrexate and her therapy schedule may be reduced soon. Yippee! My girl is running around like a champ!

...that Lexie walked back into our lives yesterday, with hugs all around. Peter's OCD drives him crazy around girls because he now feels, at age 11, a physical attraction. The OCD voice tells him he's sinning because of this attraction, so Lexie had to chase him around the couch to give him a hug. He finally consented because I said it's okay to hug someone you haven't seen in a long while. He's a handsome, kind boy and more than one girl pays attention chases him, much to his despair. See book below, which we plan on reading.

Yes, a big prayer request...that the OCD will go away for good. I'm all for keeping contact to a minimum and pushing courtship rather than dating, but I don't want Peter feeling this awful, distorted OCD angst. Martin Luther, father of the Reformation, felt this same OCD religious distortion and praise God, it saved us from the wrong direction the Church was going. God used Luther's suffering for His glory.

With tween girls entering puberty, what defense does your young son have against their brazen pursuit? Give him the courage and knowledge to protect his purity. Aggressive Girls, Clueless Boys, offers seven guided conversations, what-if scenarios, and honest responses to difficult questions that will help your child set boundaries. Also includes questions to ask your daughter. Synopsis from Christian book.com (purchase here)

Lexie's grandfather and her mother still have not reconciled (she's not moving back in with her grandparents), but she will be able to spend some nights with them, even coming to our Saturday Children's Bible Study some of the time.

She quickly made herself at home, helping me whip up chocolate chip cookie bars for the hungry AWANA Cubbies, then thoroughly licking the bowl.

...for a warm husband to hug on winter nights.

...for sweet AWANA Cubbies to delight me on Wednesday nights.

...for blessed hugs from my children.

...for brand-new coats from Goodwill for my girls, tags still on. It's been a nightmare year, keeping these kids in coats. I'll spare you the seam-ripping details.

What are you thankful for today?

The Blessing of Hospitality

John Frederick Lewis - Highland Hospitality, 1832

Three times after our guest left last night, and four times this morning, at least one of my children commented, "He's so nice, Mommy." 

"I can't believe how nice he is ."

And Peter offered this, "It's so nice to have a Christian visitor, isn't it Mommy?"

We have non-Christians over frequently and pray for them and try to be Christ to them, and that is nice. But nothing compares to fellowship with another Believer. When you share a love for Christ there is a special joy, a special peace, a happy energy. The time goes by so fast and when the inevitable goodbyes come, they're bittersweet.

Satan knows that alone, Christians are more vulnerable to his attacks. The Bible encourages us to fellowship and build one another up. We are strength for one another always--especially in difficult times.

In order to follow scriptural mandates for hospitality, we can't have our own agendas. He must rule our hearts and lives. We can't fill our lives with worldly fluff and still hope to have the time and resources to offer hospitality.

Oh, I know hospitality isn't easy, especially for busy moms whose children make messes on the quarter hour, daily. On my first spiritual gifts inventory, I scored lowest on hospitality and mercy and helps. My highs were knowledge, discernment, teaching, and faith.

Unbeknownst to me, God set to work on my lows and thankfully, they're climbing higher. I don't think my scores would be the same if the same test were given to me now, eleven years later.

Glory to God!

Hebrews 10:24-25 

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

1 Peter 4:9 

Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.

Acts 2:42They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

Hebrews 3:13

But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness.

I enjoy every church fellowship, but I have my four young children to look after and conversations must be short or not at all. Little people aren't prone to sitting still long, letting Mommy and that nice lady have a lengthy conversation.

When Christians come to my home, however, the pressure of looking after the children subsides for the most part. The children are fully part of the fellowship and I love it.

I encourage you, invite Christians over.

Last night our old California friend, D, came over for four hours. He married a couple years before we moved here, but neither of us cared for the match, believing the woman wasn't a strong Christian. She had been married twice and had three kids, so we didn't have much hope for the marriage. Moreover, D suffers from severe Bipolar Disorder which wasn't well-controlled at the time, and he didn't have full-time work.

The woman wasn't altogether truthful about the past, blaming her divorces solely on her two ex-husbands. To me that indicates an unteachable heart. Every married person is a sinner and every marriage problem is the result of sin, so even if a divorce filing isn't mutual, both people must go to God separately and ask Him to search their heart. Secondly, they need to acknowledge and confess sin and ask for forgiveness.

And sometimes, they are called to live the rest of their lives alone, depending on the circumstances. This is a devastating thing and these people need our love and fellowship, not our condemnation.

During the Christmas season, hearing they moved to Ohio, I looked up their names, hoping to find an Ohio address. I wasn't surprised to see D listed alone, in an apartment, but I hoped for the best as I sent out a Christmas picture and letter. When a reply came in the form of a Christmas card, it listed only D.

On the phone, D told my husband the woman remarried for the fourth time six months after their 2009 divorce. I knew I'd heard enough.

If you know a single person especially, whatever age, invite them over for dinner, or for lunch after church? They need fellowship badly, before depression or despair have time to set in. Fellowship and love help fight those emotions off and keep a single person's eyes on God, not on themselves. God designed Christian families, I believe, to fulfill a single's need for fellowship, to a large extent.

Singles' groups are okay, but pairing off frequently occurs and the goal becomes to meet and marry someone, more than to fellowship or grow in Christ. Courtship is better than dating and when the whole group stays together, these groups are a more positive thing. Group fellowship prevents physical attraction from taking over, reducing emotional intelligence.

The Biblical version of emotional intelligence is spiritual discernment. Discernment is a spiritual gift--not something everyone readily accesses.

I wish we could have helped this couple think through their decision to marry, since my husband is pretty discerning as well, but I was at the end of a complicated pregnancy when they became engaged, confined to bedrest and trying to watch over my twenty-month-old toddler. Also, I worked part-time as a homeschooling facilitator, mostly from home. My husband split his work day as much as he could, working early morning and evening, when our toddler son was asleep. We had no family anywhere in the state.

We were overwhelmed and thought the pastor counseling them could take care of the situation. But, what does a pastor know compared to a person's friends? Our friends are placed in our lives for a reason and they know much more about the flavor of our lives and hearts, than do pastors conducting meetings in their offices.

It takes bravery to tell someone what they may not want to hear, but twice now my husband and I felt we failed some friends in this regard. Over time, our commitment to serve others with our lives has gotten stronger, and I pray we'll make better choices from now on.

One side thought here as relates to hospitality: When offering fellowship to singles, there is one caveat--the same one I'd advise in the workplace and everywhere else. Avoid being alone with a person of the opposite sex, if you are married. And keep phone conversations with them short. Emotional bonding (too much sharing) is often the beginning of adultery.

Be a true blessing to a single person by keeping the fellowship pure and lovely, and whole-family oriented. Of course, avoid tight or otherwise immodest clothing when opening your home, both to avoid wrong thoughts in a man, and to encourage single and married women to also dress modestly.

Sometimes, things don't go as planned with hospitality. The strangest thing happened last night.

For dinner I served shepherd's pie, fresh fruit, and salad. The conversation was lively and fun, then suddenly, our guest held his hand up to his mouth, as though in pain. He excused himself and went to the bathroom.

He was gone for what seemed like an eternity. We all stared at each other, wondering what on earth...? My insecurity about being a hostess took over and I feared it was the food. Was there a hair in the meal? Did my 4 year old put a small toy in the salad or something? Were the mashed potatoes in the shepherd's pie lumpy and he liked them smooth?

What was it? And how could I ever apologize enough?

I began to regret the whole hospitality thing, thinking I was the absolute worst at it. After all, we use jars for drinking glasses and our dishes don't match, neither our flatware. I don't own nice tablecloths or anything fancy or expensive.

The offerings are humble, and though I know this doesn't matter to God, it suddenly began to bother me while our guest sought relief of some kind in the bathroom.

What was it?

Thank the Lord, it had nothing to do with my hospitality.

He bit his tongue pretty badly and it bled a lot and was quite painful for an hour or so. But still, he stayed until 9:00 PM and had a nice time. We sent some chocolate cake and more dinner along home with him, since he couldn't finish due to the bleeding and pain.

When I heard he bit his tongue, I was so relieved I almost cried. Yes, I'm sympathetic that way.

I noticed that his bipolar disorder seemed well-controlled now, and later that night I thought about his twitching eyes, a tic he didn't previously have, and I wondered if the tongue and cheek biting (which he told my husband about) weren't a strange side effect of a new medicine, along with the tic? Bipolar can often occur along with Tourette's Syndrome and OCD, just like ADHD can. Perhaps he had the tics before in a different form...I don't know.

Chronic neurological disorders are heart-wrenching, to say the least. I know God placed D in our home as a guest on purpose. We live this reality on a daily basis and we understand it with our whole hearts. My Peter's ADHD is well-controlled now, but the OCD and the Tourette's tics are not, much to our dismay. The new medicine incidentally helped the ADHD, but was given to him for the OCD. Full therapeutic affect is supposed to occur by the third month.

Two months in, we pray for the best, and we're thankful on an hourly basis for the ADHD improvement.

All this to say, I suppose, that God has a perfect plan for our lives, including with whom we will fellowship?

My Lord is so faithful and so compassionate. He amazes me every day. He truly, truly loves us.

There are so many parts to His beautiful, divine puzzle. How thorough he's been in loving us, how wise in guiding us. How it behooves us to trust Him!

Giving Thanks Today:

Thank you, Lord, for...

~ a guest for Peter to share his birthday hamster with. (D happens to like hamsters, too.) No asthma from the hamster this time for Peter.

~ a Christian husband to share triumphs and hardships with.

~ the cousin who fixed our slow drains.

~ four amazing children to warm my heart and home.

~ wisdom and comfort from the Word.

~ online friends.

~ Peter's improved spelling.

~ George Washington Carver, a wonderful Christian man who inspired us greatly as part of our homeschool. He was a botanist and professor who helped black farmers in the post civil-war era learn to diversify and rotate their crops, leading to successful peanut crops, cotton crops, and sweet potato crops--even in poor native soil. He helped rebuild and strengthen and revolutionize the southern farm economy, and he kept his people from starving as they sought to make it on their own after slavery. He also invented peanut butter and other things derived from peanuts and sweet potatoes. His work and research helped farmers all over the world, but most of all, his heart for God was amazing. I can't even type about him without tears. Every child should read about him, especially every Christian child--role models are few in these insanely worldly days.

top image