Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Persevering Mom

My girls went to a birthday party last night. It was held in a tiny starter church and the theme was Finding Dory, which they showed on a "big screen" (aka the screen for worship music lyrics). They asked the girls to dress in pajamas and bring sleeping bags and teddy bears. Oh the excitement!

Party hours were 4 PM to 7 PM, during which pizza, cake, ice cream and a snack table were available. Apparently, Mary had some of each because at exactly one in the morning she vomited big time and it was 2:30 before I got to sleep.

The sick ones always sleep in the king bed with me just in case they need assistance again in the middle of the night. I didn't know if this was a virus or a junk food hangover. Hubby set an alarm and slept elsewhere, waking us up at 6:50 as he got ready for church and spoke loudly in the hallway with Paul about the awesome Penn State football game.

Imagine my irritation.

I feel like a zombie and have to clean the house ahead of the daycare week, wash a bunch of linen plus the regular daily loads, and you're waking me and our sick daughter up because of football?

I got up, helped everyone but Mary get ready for church and later got the computer set up to listen to the live sermon broadcast. We watched that, while I observed to see if Mary could hold down sips of water.

The whole time I'm feeling like I'd just studied all night long for an 8 AM final exam. They don't tell you in college that much of your first 18 years parenting a child will mimic that feeling, except for a few summer months when viruses slow down.

Of course it isn't just the viruses. You'll stand in the kitchen and by the washer and dryer for much of the next 18 years, come rain or shine, sickness and in health, especially if you homeschool. The floor will need sweeping and the carpet a vacuuming when you're not by the washer, dryer, dishwasher or stove.

Relentless is the only word that covers it and yet moms don't quit. We persevere with some super human strength I am grateful for, but will never understand. Even us older moms. Even grandmas who are moms to their grandchildren. If we're bedridden, we find a way to mother and delegate from the bed.

Sometimes while sweeping the same floor hours later we feel like Cinderella, who works herself to exhaustion while the evil stepmother and stepsisters live active lives, well-rested and vibrant, always looking forward to something. Other people live life, it seems, while we enable their pursuits. We give things up day after day. The feeling of being passed by, of being unimportant, can be so strong sometimes.

Our Heavenly Father sees us and is well pleased. We work for Him and he says this is good work and I bank my life on that. The servant is blessed in the kingdom of God. The last shall be first. All the more reason to press on without complaining, rejoicing in the growth and beauty in our children's hearts and minds. Sometimes when they're being selfish it seems like we're going backwards, but persevere and trust. Together with the Lord, we're not just cleaning messes, but building a legacy.




Friday, October 28, 2016

Appreciating Mom

I'm on my third day in bed with the flu.

Can you imagine what the house looks like?

Today I told the kids to catch up on the house first, and then do school with whatever time was left. I intuitively knew that if I didn't call a housekeeping day, then the house would be too far gone for me to clean up on Sunday night, ahead of the Monday daycare day. I'm sure my being off has incredibly inconvenienced the family I work for, but it couldn't be helped.

The boys made dinner the last two nights. Tacos by Paul, and gingerbread pancakes by Peter. They were delicious. I am not a failure as a mother; my children are doing alright with this sudden domestic nightmare. Our job is to work ourselves out of a job, and nothing tests that notion like consecutive sick days for Mom.

To save money, we don't buy many snacks. We bake our own, or make popcorn. There are no-bake cookies for afternoon snack, thanks to Paul. Peter is going to put a whole chicken in the oven at 4 PM, and four loads of laundry were folded and put away at Peter's direction to his siblings.

Peter rose to the occasion nicely. At first though, he knocked on my bedroom door and asked me to please give the kids jobs to do, because the cleaning wasn't getting done. I told him the first step is always the decluttering. An hour later he came and shared this with me:

"All I've been doing for an hour is walking around and putting a ton of little things away. I don't know how you do this everyday. Your job is a lot harder than I thought."

As much as I feel really lousy, and am shocked to have the flu in October--before we even got our flu shots--I can see the value in Mom being down for a week. Housekeeping is a thankless job. Rarely does anyone remember to say thank you for the many small acts of service we do.

And yet, so much of life rides on our shoulders. We're not engineering $25,000,000 stock deals, or meeting to discuss the next president's first 100 days in office, but we are the glue that holds it all together for the next generation. We're significant in immeasurable ways. Our contributions are astounding.

And you know what makes it beautiful, rather than just the work of cooks, maids, and executive secretaries?

It's the love. The self-sacrifice. Our services are free of charge, paid for with precious energy and time and heart. We could be doing so many wonderful things with our time, yet we choose to serve in lowly ways--to do the seemingly insignificant work of ensuring everyone has clean pants and shirts, and available Cheerios and oatmeal for breakfast. When it's time for a meal, the food is there. When it's time for a change, the fresh clothes are there. When it's time to be somewhere, Mom is on the case, five steps ahead of everyone.

When Mom is down, everything is down. When Mom can't go to the store, it's a crisis. When mom can't do the socks and underwear, all of life stops and there's scurrying around. Confused people wonder what to do first and next, because we make it look so easy.

It's beautiful what we do. We literally give our lives to serve others, with no promise of repayment, no promise of a nest egg waiting for us in retirement.

If you devalue what you do...if anyone devalues what you do, just wait. Your sick days will come too and you'll see the value of your contribution. You will be newly thankful that you have the energy and the love and the legacy-minded vision to get up and do the same thing every day, because you want to. Because you love to. Because you get to.




Sunday, June 12, 2016

A Glimpse of the Empty Nest

Dear Internet,

Help. I'm a mother with a one-fourth empty nest and I feel it keenly.

My boys worked hard to apply for Christian Camp scholarships, keeping up with deadlines and gathering all the required recommendations. God honored it with a huge blessing--an experience none of my children have ever experienced before: A week at camp.

We dropped Peter off at high school camp two hours ago, and I'm a basket case. I feel like my heart has been ripped out. I just miss him terribly. I've never been away from him for more than a few hours since 2005, when I flew to Ohio for a two-day trip looking for a new home. He was three and a half then.

I am praying harder than I've ever prayed...that his OCD will not ruin his time...that he doesn't fall off the zipline and get hurt...that he won't get a sunburn...that he will be a blessing to a lonely boy in his cabin...that he will make a good friend...that all my years of discipling will make him a world changer in cabin #12.

I trust him and I'm so proud of him, and I know he is ready to be sent out, to make disciples of every nation.

This is what the empty nest will feel like at first. Like my heart is being ripped out. Oh, mothers. Soak up every moment and speak Christ with every pore. We can't go backwards...

Signed,

A drippy-eyed mother

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Trusting

One of the most challenging parts of the Christian walk is...

...what?

Humility? Obedience? Consistency? Trust?

What is it for you now, and has it changed over the years?

Right now, I believe for me it is trust. There are so many unknowns.

Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding

Psalm 9:10 And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you.


I have to trust that even if God never heals Beth's arthritis, she is going to thrive spiritually and emotionally...that neither bitterness nor envy will steal away her joy in Christ...that she will be able to have children and care for them without serious pain...that her strong medicines will not destroy her health over time...that my love will guide her to acceptance and peace.

Psalm 112:7 He is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting in the Lord.

I have to trust that even if God never heals Peter's OCD and ADHD, Peter is going to live for Christ and work hard to care for himself and his family, accepting and compensating well for his differences, without bitterness or envy, for the glory of God.

Romans 8:28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Right now, specifically, I have to trust that God will provide a job for me, in His timing. I've completed a childcare profile on Care.com, paid for a background check, advertised on Craigslist, and spread the word locally. Now, it's a wait game, not knowing when my lifestyle will drastically change, or if it will at all.

Did I read God right? Is this what He wants?

I confess I keep checking to see if anyone has responded. Was my ad all wrong? Not enough information...too much? How long might this take?

After clicking refresh way too many times, it hit me. What am I doing? What can't I do the leg work and let it go...walk away and go on with my day, knowing that God has a plan for everything, including my next job, despite my not having worked for 9 years?

I thought I had the spiritual gift of faith, but now I'm not sure.

This trust? It's hard. Trust is the day-to-day manifestation of faith. Trust is believing that God is good, all the time. Trust is believing that the outcomes--even if unexpected and different from what we prayed--will prove better than what we hoped for. And not better in terms of comfort so much, but better spiritually all around.

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Trust is living free, letting go...falling backwards without care. In essence, trust is daily living on a spiritual plane, rather than on a physical one. We trust not in our daily physical comfort, but in our daily spiritual growth.

And we get there how? We stay there how?

It's not something we learn one time and keep with us forever. Trust requires refresher courses, as does much of the Christian life. That's why we walk with Christ. We have to tether ourselves to him, much like the European child leashes you see in crowded public places. Children tethered to their parents--something that shocks us Westerners.

I tether myself to Christ by observing my prayer time. The Holy Spirit speaks to me as I release it all in prayer, asking for Christ to reign in me.

I tether myself to Christ by keeping Believers close, who sharpen me in the faith.

I tether myself to Christ by memorizing his Word.

I tether myself to Christ by loving His Word, and picking it up and opening it and reading it.

I tether myself to Christ by studying spiritual concepts through serious Bible study.

I tether myself to Christ by choosing Christian music to bring my thoughts captive to Christ.

Isaiah 26:3 You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

Sometimes, when I'm not actively tethering, I pursue certainty instead and certainty becomes my God. I become consumed with outcomes and possibilities, but the Holy Spirit doesn't leave me there. The Shepherd comes calling for me. "Where are you, dear sheep? I no longer see you."

Psalm 91:1-16 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, ...

The Good Shepherd opens my eyes and brings me back into the fold...me, a wayward sheep.

Me...a contented sheep, glad to be back in the Shepherd's fold, enjoying the spiritual bounty.

Are you tethered and enjoying His bounty today?

Isaiah 43:2-3 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in exchange for you.

Friday, November 6, 2015

Parenting: A Dance of Self-Sacrifice

James 1:17 Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

Right now I'm full of joy, but earlier today misery visited. It's not Mother's Day or anything, but my gratitude spills over as I think about my four sleeping children.

The boys’ OCD continues to be a monumental challenge. A few times a week my hands go up to my hair in frustration; a good hair tug is just what I need. You know that expression “pulling out my hair”? I don’t exactly pull it out, but screaming in frustration would be too stressful to my housemates, and I can’t get in the car without my children and just drive off the stress, so hair pulling works. Tension is released and at the same time I remember that we are on this earth as pilgrims for a nano-second, passing through. OCD is a temporary problem.

It's a testimony to God's grace that I sit here and declare my gratitude...because this is a hard road we're on.

But back to parenting joy…I just love these precious ones so much. They are such good company, so warm and delightful and funny and sweet. The greatest privilege in life besides serving the Lord, is serving one’s children. Watching them spread their wings, guiding them with love and scripture, honoring them with my time and attention and devotion…it’s all so rich.

The longer I do this, the more I realize that a great parent is a selfless parent. We make little decisions all day long about the extent to which we’ll deny ourselves. Each little decision matters and together they influence the content of a child's memories. A self-denying parent sows fond memories, while a self-involved parent sows neglect and eventual disdain.

Will I forgo a few minutes of reading to peel apples for the kids? Will I set the 600-page classic novel aside to do a hands-on lesson my girls need, rather than just giving a math worksheet? Will I set aside the messy house to read library books to my kids, even though what I’d rather do is send the children outside so I can vacuum, sweep and dust—something which makes me feel better, even though the books make them feel better? Will I keep going forward with the next important thing, using my time wisely, or will I go to the computer to check my email and then get distracted with that news story about Marco Rubio's supposedly-disastrous finances?

All these decisions matter for eternity. My parenting matters for eternity.  I can model self-sacrifice or self-indulgence, a love for God or a love for myself.  I can have lofty ideas and goals, but what really matters is my behavior, not my intentions.

Good intentions don’t rear spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually well-balanced young people. Self-sacrifice does.

Lay down your life. Fade to the background. Be the wind their wings crave. 

Fill up on God, not self. Give from the abundance God provides, for the Christian is never empty-hearted. The Living Water is ours to drink from. We need not ever thirst again.

Thursday, October 29, 2015

What God Has Done in 18 Years

I do love to write still, but can't seem to get to this space for my usual fix. This week, however, I wrote out a personal testimony of submission to God for my middle schoolers in Trek class. We were finishing up an entire 7-week unit on submission.

Some of you have read a bit of my story before, but this is everything God has done in my life in the last 18 years, as written to the middle schoolers. It's long, but then, 18 years is a lot of lessons.

7 Weeks on Submission

Reviewing Concepts

1. The path to greatness is through serving.

2. We should aim not to be first, but to be last.

3. Christians need to tell factual stories of what God has done in the Bible, and about what he has done in our personal lives. Another word for these factual stories is testimonies.

4. It is not easy or always safe to be God’s servant.

5. Satan knows how to tempt us. He knows our desires, and he will tempt us all through life, especially when we are vulnerable (feeling weak). We can follow Jesus’ lead and defeat Satan just like Jesus did during his 40 days of temptation.

6. God’s servants will be rejected by the world.

A Personal Testimony about Submitting to God

I grew up in a non-Christian home and it wasn’t until age 31 that I came to know Christ as my personal Savior. I was single all that time, teaching first grade in the high desert of California, about 90 minutes from Los Angeles. After my ninth year of teaching--two years after I became a Christian--I married a Christian man, continuing classroom teaching for two more years after, during which I suffered a miscarriage in my fifth month of pregnancy. I waited a long time for a husband and family, and I wanted my baby more than anything. All my dreams were shattered when they told me during an ultrasound that my baby boy had no heartbeat—and this after I saw him doing flips on ultrasound a month earlier, seemingly healthy.

The miscarriage occurred only 17 months after my wedding day, and even though I was happily married, for several weeks I wanted Jesus to take me home. The baby seemed like everything to me and I just didn’t have hope anymore. People told me that such things occur to women all the time, and that I best just accept it and get over it—that I wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last to suffer a miscarriage.

The facts are, about 10% to 20% of known pregnancies end in miscarriages, and most of them before 12 weeks gestation.

My heart was broken and the callous remarks left me feeling emptier and more alone. Like Elizabeth in the Bible, I felt shame because my body didn’t perform as it was supposed to. I began noticing dozens of largely pregnant, happy women. Yes, it didn’t make sense, but I felt unworthy of being a woman. I trusted God and loved Him just as much even through the worst of the grief, but I had lost my innocence about happiness. Previously I thought that happiness was attainable—that everyone was going to experience happiness in some way. I felt entitled to happiness before that miscarriage.

I was desperate to be pregnant again. Really desperate, but it didn’t happen for five long months. In fact, it didn’t happen until I completely submitted to God in regard to my future as a mother. He might make me a mother, or He might not, but it was his story to write.  I might be happy for a time, or not, but it was His story to write. I was finally like Mary, saying to God…”Let it be to me as you say.”

I grew as a servant of God. I grew to understand that God promises His presence, His love, and His provision. He doesn’t promise that we’ll have everything we want, or even most of the things we want—including a spouse and family.  His purposes and His plan are higher than ours, and as his servants, we have to submit to that plan, no matter what it costs us.

I did get pregnant again, and finding out was the best day of my life!  I wept, while worshipping the God who gives and takes away, but would never forsake me.

The bliss didn’t last the whole pregnancy, for at the 20-week ultrasound they told me my baby had hydrocephalus (brain swelling) and a swollen kidney. Those first few days, I forgot all about my plan to submit to God, and I lamented…”How could this be happening, God! Why would you allow tragedy twice in a row?”

While I trusted God, I began to believe even further that as Christians we cannot anticipate happiness in earthly things. Children get sick. They die. Spouses die. Nothing is for sure. Only God is unchanging, ever-present, always loving, and always working for our good. He deserves all of our allegiance, even while our hearts are breaking.

Joy in Christ is always ours for the taking. But happiness is circumstantial—it depends on what’s happening in our lives. Happiness comes and goes.

Two days after our bad ultrasound news, a specialist could only confirm that my baby had swollen kidneys; there was no sign of brain swelling. We rejoiced, once more believing we might be parents yet. I dared to hope that everything would come out okay, and even though there were some pre-term labor problems, everything did come out okay. My baby was born at 37 weeks gestation. After birth, he had no kidney or brain problems.

Twenty-two months later I had another son, Paul. We were overjoyed.

After my first son was born, I had quit teaching full-time and started working part-time as a homeschooling facilitator in California, where our home was. My husband did not make enough for me to stay home, but God in his graciousness allowed me to work mostly from home. I had prayed desperately for months for the ability to stay home; to be a mother to the miracle in my arms was all I wanted. I now saw children as a gift, not as a right for every adult woman. Babies were placed in my arms by my loving Heavenly Father, and everything I did as a mother was an act of gratitude. 

God managed to give me a position that only required a babysitter for several hours a week, which was a miracle, for quitting work entirely wasn’t possible. My income was needed to avoid bankruptcy and defaulting on our obligations.

Though the situation was ideal, it wasn’t what I wanted for my children. It was just second best. There was a great deal of stress in trying to work as a mother of a baby and a toddler.

Little did I know, that God was at work still, planning to give me the desire of my heart.

I got pregnant again (third child) and since I was already having trouble keeping up with my professional work, I knew something had to change. I couldn’t be both a good mom and a good employee. My heart was at home and leaving my children for even a couple hours left me feeling extremely anxious. Some women can do both well (balance work and home), but God didn’t create me like that.

We put our 3-bedroom, modest California home up for sale in 2005. We had only owned a home for three years, but if it sold in that high-market period, we would have enough equity to pay off $26,000 in student loans, plus paying off two cars and other bills, and leaving enough to move and get a mortgage on another modest house in a cheaper state. We decided to go without a job to the new state, on faith that one would be obtained.

The house sold in two weeks, and I began speaking with an aunt in Ohio about housing prices. We had no family left anywhere in California, and having at least one aunt around—who happened to be my only Christian relative--seemed like a dream.

Unfortunately, as soon as we sold our house, I suffered another miscarriage at 10 weeks gestation. It was devastating, but we moved anyway since we had sold the house. It seemed as though God had orchestrated the whole thing.

After the move I began staying home in Ohio with my two boys full-time.  In what still seems like a miracle, God gave me the desire of my heart. Peter was 3 and a half, and Paul only 22 months. I babysat for extra money, and my husband worked very hard for us in a modest, relatively low-paying job.

I was 39 when we moved to Ohio, and to my amazement, two surprise babies were born to us when I was 40 and 42 years old, and they are fabulous blessings—two girls, now 6 and 8. God was so faithful to the desires of my heart, but he didn’t have to be. He blessed me beyond my wildest dreams, and even though my children have some troublesome health problems, I feel incredibly grateful and blessed. Things are not perfect or easy, but God is faithful and loving, always.

Our lives took a sharp turn in 2009 when my husband lost his job, and we experienced real, first-world poverty. Although 14% of America is hungry, which is unacceptable, it is still true that no one usually starves in America. So our first-world poverty was vastly different than third-world poverty, which consists of cooking outside of a leaky-roof shack without running water, without toilets, and sometimes without electricity. We still lived like kings and queens, from a third-world perspective.

We were like outcasts in our own land, however. We felt left out of everything, and I began learning in earnest about poverty around the world. My eyes were miraculously opened to how arrogantly Americans live, in light of the way the rest of the world lives. I learned that as Christians, we had been missing something BIG about what God wanted from our lives. I felt we had been Christian in name only, along with many other American Christians.

But God is gracious to meet us where we’re at. We all start out with a lot of sin and blindness, and God moves us along with love and patience. This period of learning about world poverty began a major restructuring in my mind of what it meant to be a Christian.

We were scared and devastated about the job loss, already barely making ends meet, but we had great faith and believed God would provide, so I didn’t go to work.

In fact, I had taken on something significant at home, in the year prior to the job loss. We had read that 82% of public-schooled Christian children left their faith after high school, while only 7% of homeschooled Christian children did. Despite this statistic, I am not advocating here that homeschooling is right for every Christian. It was just right for us.

It became clear to both of us before we even finished reading the article. We pulled our first-born son out of kindergarten in the fourth week of school, welcoming homeschooling as a way of life. It allows us large amounts of time to diciple our children.

A major submission in my life came through our ongoing, relative poverty. While God provided, it was nonetheless seriously challenging to be the have-nots in a materialistic society. Not long after the job loss, my husband—who was 50 when he lost his job--began working 54 hours a week for a low wage. Even though he worked harder than most, we represented the working poor—working high hours for a low wage. My husband’s age didn’t make it easy to find a decent job, nor did his Bachelor’s degree in theology, which brought spiritual benefits but not always material ones. 

Whether you have a college degree or not, know that your daily bread comes from God. There are no magic formulas for an easy-living lifestyle.

We learned quickly that we no longer fit in anywhere—not even at church. Everyone talked about the places they went and the things they did, or the remodeling they did on their house. We listened politely, but we avoided talking about ourselves, knowing ridicule was likely regarding our choices. I avoided women’s ministry because I couldn’t join in any of the conversations. I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, or ridicule me for not working, when my family obviously needed more money.

To choose to be poor for the sake of the children wasn’t something people could relate to. Our society thinks children need things and experiences, and thus my children were at a disadvantage in their eyes—they were to be pitied, in other words. They were pitied by people who knew our situation, even though they had toys (Goodwill has good toys), and clothes and food, and a warm, loving place to live. They also had a yard, which is far more than most children in the world have in terms of space.

There were no vacations, or any lengthy road trips because of the cost of gas. We never went out to dinner or to movies or to events that cost money, unless someone gifted us with tickets. All our garments come from careful, meticulous thrift-store shopping—finding the best there is so everyone looked respectable. No one guesses, most of the time, what our lifestyle is like because we don’t wear it on our sleeves, so to speak.

We also didn’t fit in with relatives, who thought we were ignorant. Because we could rarely go anywhere or do anything, we visited libraries and parks. We did a lot of living through wonderful books. We grew to love God’s earth and see Creation as a love song to us. There is much that is free, given to man as a gift from God, to amaze us and amuse us and remind us of Him.

Even with faith, a low-income lifestyle is stressful. A car repair could mean not enough food, and too much food could mean not enough gas. Everything’s a struggle, but alongside us there has always been God’s grace and the joy of raising children.

The greatest challenge to my joy, year after year, was Christmas. I dreaded it. We couldn’t buy anything for our children, unless a relative or friend sent Christmas money, though twice over the years near-strangers blessed my children with a ready-wrapped Christmas.

We couldn’t buy anything for others, either. Scraping up money for holiday baking, a holiday turkey, or Operation Christmas Child, were all faith walks. While others were spending hundreds or thousands, and going out to eat with every shopping trip, and going to productions like the Nutcracker, I was hoping Christmas would be over soon. I began to desperately look for meaning in Christmas, knowing that when we view things eternally, we always find the deepest and most satisfying meaning.

Finally, after studying and contemplating, I grew to believe that Christmas was a commercial enterprise, not a biblical enterprise. The first Christmas is not celebrated in the Bible, outside of the shepherds coming to worship Jesus after His birth, and the wise men coming to worship the toddler Christ child—who by then was no longer a baby. Even though the virgin birth of Christ was one of the most significant events in all history, there wasn’t a biblical feast or holiday declared.

Christmas and I came to an understanding, however. It could be used to annually acknowledge the miracle of the virgin birth and Emmanuel, God with us, even though, as Christians we’re supposed to be reveling in that miracle every day.  For me now, Christmas is a time to perform random acts of kindness toward our unsaved neighbors, and for the less fortunate. That’s the best use of it, my heart and mind finally decided, though we still bake cookies and cook turkey and put on living room Nativity plays. We invite the lonely to celebrate with us.

I don’t hate Christmas anymore because I have learned true gratitude. I have learned to count eternal blessings more than earthly ones. I concentrate on what God wants, and not on what I feel. What I feel is unimportant. God gives me His spirit and changes my selfish feelings to match his sacrificial ones, the more I submit to Him and practice gratitude as a way of life.

How did my children fare in all of this? My children to this day do not know what the inside of a movie theatre is like, or the inside of a restaurant besides Pizza Hut. They have lived a very different life than their peers, and right now as my boys acclimate to youth group for the first time, they feel all the feelings I have felt over the years. They don’t fit in, in terms of lifestyle, and everyone is talking about things they have never seen or done or had. “You don’t know what a Game boy is? Are you serious? You don’t play video games? Are you serious? You’re weird.”

These are real comments made to one or both of my boys, and though no harm or disrespect was intended, it still stung and made them feel marginal—on the outside of life, looking in.

They are staying strong, though. They have already learned to distinguish between wants and needs, and they understand what a distraction consumerism is. It is excruciatingly hard sometimes, but they understand they are blessed to have a unique perspective, even when Satan is there, telling them they deserve this or that like the others have.

They, too, are learning gratitude.

For a long time I thought God was trying to teach us important eternal lessons, and when we had learned those lessons, we would be less poor. But that hasn’t happened. Nothing has changed materially in these six years following the job loss. I have come to peace with, and submitted to this lifestyle, and I see the blessings inherent in having to depend on God for everything. I feel more blessed than ever before, even though I’m still a marginal character to those around me.

Wealth is only a blessing if you share it. If you don’t it will likely be your spiritual downfall. It is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get to heaven. Rich people don’t need God—though their souls do, of course. Rich countries don’t need God. Thus, America is more godless than ever. China and Africa are gaining comparatively more Christians than we are. We’re losing Christians.

I want you to imagine a simple, tiny wood house without running water or commercial furniture, without closets or different rooms--just a shelter over your head and cooking done camping-style, outside. I’ve seen many videos of this and I’ve read about it. Christians who live like this feel a very real and amazing presence of God all the time. They have a deep soul joy and a faith we richer Christians don’t often experience, in all our comfort and self-reliance.

Every single thing you add to that simple existence distracts you more and more from God. The electronics, the convenience tools, all the things that make life easier and pleasurable, such as luxuries and vacations…they all change us. They take up all of our time and attention. They crowd God out and as we crowd him out, we no longer feel the abundant spiritual life he wants for us. We look for more and more things and experiences to fill the void in our lives, never understanding that we successfully crowded God out, without even realizing it. Whoever loses his life for Me will find it. We don’t find our life in things or comforts. We find it in God alone. God is what our souls are hungry for, though as you learned in this unit, Satan will always be there telling you this is a lie.

As I learned more and more about world poverty, I fell in love with an outstanding Christian organization called Compassion International (www.compassion.com), which is a child-sponsorship ministry that serves millions of children the world over, all in Jesus’ name. They help children and their families come to know Jesus, as they relieve their suffering and provide hope for their futures—all for $38 dollars a month per sponsored child. Personal letter writing by sponsors is a huge part of Compassion’s ministry. The letters are like gold to these children, some of whom have never been told they are loved by anyone. Their parents, just trying to survive daily, don’t often know how to nurture their children, though they do love them.

As part of another faith walk, knowing that all monies come from God, not from us, we sponsored a young lady from Uganda, and a young man from El Salvador, for a total of $76 a month (plus family gifts to them at our tax refund time, to ensure they have roofs that don’t leak and a mattress to sleep on, and clothes and shoes). God always provides the money to do this, even though on paper it doesn’t work out for our budget. 

When God wants something from us, he provides the means, often through weird occurrences like unexpected refund money from the dentist or insurance company. Once, 3 or 4 years ago, our 1998 van was on its last month of life and we had no idea how we would cart our four kids around, since my husband drove a 25-year-old sedan.

I got hit by a car coming back from the grocery store. It was a miracle, especially since no one was hurt and I was alone in the van. The insurance company gave us $4000 more than we expected for the value of our Toyota Sienna van. We bought a used van, a 2003, for $3000, and the rest went to other obligations and to our Compassion children.

Our Compassion family has grown over the years. We also write to four other children whose sponsors do not write to them--from Nicaragua, Burkina Faso, India, and the Dominican Republic. Besides my own children and husband, these children are the joy of my life. Their four to six letters each per year fill us with joy. Checking the mail has become a treat. I love impacting them for Jesus, and I love how they impact us with the joy of simple belief…simple, child-like faith…simple living. Our monthly letters to them remind them that God has not forgotten them. Poverty tells them they are worthless. They need to be told a different message, in Jesus’ name. I tell them I love them and that God loves them and that He has plans to prosper them and not harm them, to give them a hope and a future. Not a material prosperity necessarily, but a spiritual one.

If you want to get involved with Compassion International and don’t have the $38 a month, you can call them and ask to be a correspondent sponsor for children whose sponsors do not write to them. This experience will change your life, and the life of the child you write to. You can become a sponsor online at www.compassion.com, but to be a correspondent you need to call them directly at 800-336-7676.

A man from Kenya recently came to American for the first time, to meet with a ministry partner here in the States. His American ministry partner took him along as they stopped at a couple mega-churches to pick up promised ministry donations. The Kenyan man, having grown up in abject poverty—looking in trash cans for food as a youngster--looked at the huge, fancy churches with their cafes, and bookstores, and their huge playgrounds and he said, puzzled…”Do they worship the same Jesus?”

I have learned that worshiping Jesus means giving up a respectable life. It means giving up the notion of ever fitting in. My heart must bleed for what Jesus’ heart bled for…for the oppressed, the orphans, the widows, the poor and the lame…and about souls most of all.

I have learned that the American Church has it all wrong. This church, however, has it more right than most, since we have several ministries that serve the poor and oppressed. Be proud that your church stands out in this way--different from the usual American pact of churches. And work personally to do more as you grow up in this church.

We aren’t supposed to pursue the American dream of a house, nice yard, bigger and better things, and nice vacations. We’re supposed to be pursuing something greater than that…something greater than ourselves. We are supposed to be getting in last place, so someone else can go ahead of us in line, for the glory of God. It’s not that we have to make ourselves poor with our giving, just that we should give until it truly hurts and truly makes us depend on God. In all this we identify with Christ in his suffering, and feel the abundant life he desires for us.

Our faith then stands out as a miracle, and points to God’s glory, goodness, and provision.
I believe God put enough of everything on this earth. There is enough food, enough land, enough water, and enough trees for shelter. Yet some people can’t sleep for the rain that leaks through their makeshift tin roofs. Some people walk around hungry all the time, and walk hours to get water for cooking. Kids work in fields and never go to school, because eating is more pressing than an education.

But this doesn’t have to be. This doesn’t occur because God is heartless. It occurs because we are heartless. We have loved ourselves, instead of our fellow man. God expected us to distribute our extra and we failed. We were supposed to be his hands and his feet to all those who have not enough, or who have nothing, and we failed. The gap between rich and poor is growing even in our own country as we read this.

You young people are the future of our country. I want you—God wants you--to see through materialism. Compassion International has an excellent blog about child poverty and helping in Jesus’ name. Find it and read it often, with your parents’ permission, at www.compassion.com/blog. Read about the 80% of the world living on less than $2.50 a day. It’s an inconvenient truth nobody wants to know about, but open your eyes and really understand this reality and your Christian responsibility. 

Adjust your gaze so that it is on God, and not on yourself. Look at your life dreams and be willing to set them aside as Mary and Joseph did, when they accommodated an embarrassing and recriminating pregnancy. Think about that pregnancy and what it looked like in their culture. It placed them in a position of shame and ridicule and extreme loneliness. They became outcasts.

In your lives, aim to lead the American church to redemption…to true worship and true knowledge of what it means to follow Christ and to love Christ.

The path to greatness is through what?


Through serving others.

Friday, October 2, 2015

Your House: A Story of Love and Life


We women pride ourselves on our ability to multitask. We're different from men in that way, which is why God charged man with providing for his family, and women with the home-front tasks, such as the daily rearing of children. You can't care for children without the ability to multitask.

Case in point: a man gets his three children ready for church, his wife having gone to church earlier for choir practice. The wife did set out clothes for the children, but somehow Dad sent his youngest son to church with last year's high-water pants (two sizes too small!). The wife looked at her son in horror later, wondering where her husband even found those pants.

No, this did not happen to me. It could have, except that the choir would never want my awful voice. But once, when I went to a morning doctor's appointment while pregnant with my fourth, my husband let our middle two children out to play in their pajamas because he had no clue what to put on them.

Yes, multitasking seems to be God-sent, but even women can take it too far. One morning last week, trying to do too many things at once, I forgot to spray the bread pan before rolling up the dough and placing it in the pan. Instead of falling out nicely with a minor shake, I had to butcher the bread to get it out of the pan.

This week I again tried to do too many things at once, and I added the salt to the bread dough twice. We couldn't even eat it. Nasty. What a waste of groceries and time, but the lesson is well learned.

Here's what I've learned through breadmaking: We don't have to be everything to everybody all day long.

The sky is not going to fall if the house is a mess longer than a day, or two days. We can say...right now, I will focus on one thing. I will enjoy that one thing, and I will be grateful for the opportunity to bless through that one thing.

Too often we look around the disheveled house--disheveled because after all, kids do live in it--and we're dissatisfied with ourselves. We assume all the other moms do it better...balance it all better. Have cleaner living rooms, shinier refrigerators, wiped-down bathrooms, laundry that's folded and put away.

But this is closer to the truth: Sometimes, we read to the kids nice and long and the bathrooms don't get wiped down. We take the kids for a walk and the laundry doesn't get folded. Other days, we try to get caught up, wondering how it got so messy so fast. We fuss at the kids about their messes, making them feel like they're a bother, rather than a blessing.

The bottom line is this: Focus on relationships and don't regret what doesn't get done while you're enjoying the blessings God placed before you. Look at the messes and be grateful for them...marvel at the smart children who used their imaginations and had a good time with those fall nature specimens, even though they made a mighty mess in the process. Good minds make messes.

If you wipe down the bathrooms, give yourself permission to do it mindfully, while not trying to keep the laundry going, get snacks for the kids, and get online to pay a utility bill all at the same time.

A dissatisfied homemaker feels worthless and depressed because even though she's worked herself to exhaustion, she looks around and doesn't see much to show for her efforts--and the whole crazy thing starts all over the next morning. This is a common reason women prefer to leave the home and get a job. A job is often less maddening then being home with the kids.

The secret to happy homemaking is understanding choices and learning to be at peace with them. We all make choices for how we'll spend our time, and the women who consistently choose the house have less satisfying relationships.

I have one child who has twice said funny things about how it's going to be when he grows up. Once he announced that he was going to be strict with his children and they weren't going to make messes. Recently he said he was going to have a neat house, not one like ours.

Ouch.

My first reaction was irritation, because of course my husband and me are not the ones who generally make messes. It's the children, and this particular child is the second worst offender in that department. But quickly, my irritation melted down to amusement.

I gently prodded him and got him to admit that his house wouldn't be very fun for children, or peaceful for them, or intellectually stimulating, if no one was allowed to make messes.

And again, I prodded him to think about the mother who spends all her time cleaning, ignoring the children all the while. Would that convey love? Would that convey value? Who would be happy in a home that was made to feel like a model home you could only look at, not get comfortable in?

A home is, above all, a place for love. It's a safe haven: a place to try and fail, succeed and triumph. It's a place for exploring our talents, expanding our intellects, sharing ideas and sorrows, rejoicing one with another.

A house welcomes you in and lets you mold it to fit your unique family. It's grateful for the attention all the while. A house lives with you. It stretches with you. It's like The Velveteen Rabbit who was loved so much it became real. A house becomes a home.

A couple gets married, comes home giddy from the honeymoon, then throws themselves into making their home just so...cozy, warm, but orderly and clean. Life is good and predictable, and the state of the house is fairly uniform, except maybe around the holidays. Caring for it isn't a challenge. There's always an hour here, two hours there, to give it some attention.

Soon, the first baby appears; the couple arrives home giddy from the hospital.

Suddenly, come the feedings and the changing and rocking. Repeat, Repeat, Repeat.

In no time the house deteriorates to a shocking state. The new mother shudders to think who might visit and see it like that.

Five years later, the house is still shocking, but the messes look different.

Five more years, the messes change again but the shock value persists.

Five more years pass with no progress on the house, except when Mom gets single-minded before holiday guests and ignores everyone until the house is perfect---perfect for one hour.

Seven more years and you drive home, quiet and reflective, from the last child's wedding reception.

Gulp.

Now there's an hour here, two hours there, to care for the house, which reverts back to its pre-baby state.

But it's too quiet. Too clean. Too empty.

Momma's heart aches at the sight of each clean surface. At each quiet, orderly room...because the best years of her life all got married and moved away.

As she passes from room to room, imagining the scenes of their childhood all over again, she wonders if she made too much of the house and not enough of the kids. Did she marvel at their brilliant messes often enough? Their colorful, bold paintings? The elaborate dolly tea parties that quickly morphed into disaster areas? Their fall leaf collages that made getting the table ready for dinner a nightmare? Their mud cakes on the driveway?

Our houses go through a transformation just like we do. The walls will echo with the joys of childhood, long after the children have gone.

Make the right choices now, so you can enjoy those echoes later. Let the echos speak of love, patience, joy. Choose one thing at a time as much as you can, and let it more often than not be relationship. Let the kids bake with you, cook with you, clean with you, fold with you. Mundane tasks need not always depend on Mom alone. A task can turn into togetherness, into memory-making, into an abundant life.

Enjoy the stage your house is in now. Let that house echo of you and your family's legacy of love for centuries to come.

Wishing you and your home love, patience, joy.

Blessings,

Christine


image

Monday, September 21, 2015

Mother-Daughter Toxic Patterns

An OCD psychologist I like writes for Psychology Today, and recently I noticed a link on that site to an article about mothers and daughters, entitled 8 Types of Toxic Patterns in Mother-Daughter Relationships. The writer of the article is not a therapist and doesn't diagnose anything, such as Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which would explain some of the behaviors she details. She also wrote a book entitled Mean Mothers: Overcoming the Legacy of Hurt, for which she interviewed many daughters with toxic mothers.

She chose not to interview daughters whose mothers had been diagnosed with any personality disorder, or whose mothers were addicts. These were seemingly normal families with mothers who for whatever reason, were unable or unwilling to love their daughters.

Ms. Streep highlights eight patterns indicative of toxic mothers (not mutually exclusive...toxic mothers exhibit more than one of them, typically):

- dismissive
- controlling
- unavailable
- enmeshed
- combative
- unreliable
- self-involved
- role-reversed

Keep in mind that she refers to ongoing patterns, not atypical instances of these behaviors. She finds that about 50% of us get lucky in terms of who our mothers are, and the other 50% are unlucky to some extent.

I found the comment's section particularly enlightening. What kept coming up was the phenomena of a mother playing favorites, and treating cruelly one of her daughters, while being a decent mother to her other children. Does this favoritism ring true for any of you?

I read such articles to gauge my own healing, and to keep mindful of my own mothering practices. When one grows up in a dysfunctional family, there is often a fear of repeating the sins of one's parents. But there's a crucial difference between a good-enough mother (which most of us are) and a toxic mother.

It's self-awareness.

~ Toxic mothers refuse to acknowledge their part in any dysfunction, and categorically blame others for any problems that arise.

~ They will systematically turn others against anyone who tries to confront them on unacceptable behavior, while being loving to those who play the denial game.

~ They care intensely about public image, and when they are loving, it's often to make themselves look good, rather than from genuine feeling. They have an idea in their head of what a mother should be and do, and they dupe themselves into believing they are that mother. Whoever disagrees verbally or otherwise, is considered ungrateful and troubled.

~ They may try to maintain a relationship with a child they despise, but only because to not do so would be considered unloving and unforgiving, and they don't want to portray that image. If a child walks away from them, they blame the child, and they make sure everyone knows how hurt and shocked they are.

~ Toxic mothers control children with guilt.

Many of the women in the comment's section indicated they have no contact, or limited contact, with their mothers. Most of the women were in their thirties or forties before realizing they had a toxic mother. Many of them indicated some of the dislike on the part of the mothers was because they (the daughter) "succeeded" in life while the mother did not, and there was jealously and hatred partially because of that.

It will be two years in February since I decided to break contact with my mother, and I continue to strongly believe it was the right decision for me and my immediate family. I continue to heal. However, breaking contact has not been without high cost. My mother is one of ten children, with seven siblings still living. All of my aunts and uncles stopped contacting me at Christmas and otherwise, and one of them lives within ten miles of me.

Some of them are aware of problems with my mother's behavior, including the local aunt (not my father's sister, who also lives nearby), but they would never try to cross her by contacting me.

My sister maintains contact with me via email, though we don't discuss our mother. My half-brother (different father) neither contacts me nor returns my emails. He blames me that our family is no longer "intact", and thinks that however my mother treats me, I should just accept it and realize that not everyone is perfect. He thinks I'm unforgiving, and doesn't understand the whole toxic parent thing because my mother treats he and my sister reasonably well, and always has. They play the alcoholic-parent denial game well, and they're rewarded for it.

I asked to live with my father when I was twelve, and my mother both didn't allow it, and didn't forgive me for asking. The fact that our home was an alcoholic one was not something she could bring herself to acknowledge, and she still can't. She wasn't a falling-down, or every-day drunk, and she didn't physically abuse us, so to her there was no problem.

We all did a pretty good job of denying the problem, because it didn't match the above criteria. According to recent statistics, a full 30% of Americans are problem drinkers. I'm willing to bet that because most cases aren't extreme, there's a lot of denial and damage in progress.

People have a hard time validating an unloved daughter's experiences when she is the only one of the children, seemingly, to have mother issues. A mother who plays favorites goes against our idea of what a mother should be, and we have a hard time believing it can be a common experience. But it is common, and truly damaging and tragic, and takes a long time to recover from, especially if you've been trained to blame yourself, through guilt-training, for the mother-daughter issues.

As Christians, it's hard for us to justify breaking contact with someone. It does seem unforgiving. It does seem to go against what scripture teaches. Indeed, it's a long road to healing for Christians who are caught in the trap of a toxic person, whether parent, friend, or sibling. If you find yourself there, look at it not so much in light of a particular scripture, but from the Bible as a whole.

Does allowing someone to sin against you over and over without remorse further your Christian walk, or allow you to freely and heartily work for, and live for, Christ? Does it allow you the energy and desire to extend common grace and kindnesses to others? Does it allow you to keep up with your devotional life?

Or does it sap all your energy and make you feel depressed, sad, anxious, and guilty? Does it make it difficult to concentrate on anything but the hurt and disappointment?

Only you know the answers to these questions, but what has helped me is to finally come to terms with this: My mother doesn't love me and it's not my fault. And, I don't have to justify how I've handled this to anyone but God. Not everyone will understand and that's okay with me.

Another revelation that led to significant healing is this: It isn't fruitful for me to worry about who loves me or likes me, and I certainly can't try to change their minds either way. God loves me and that is enough. He loves me fully, perfectly. His love is what heals, uplifts, and strengthens.

Love is necessary for every human, but seeking it is not fruitful. Giving it is. We give it because He first loved us.

What do I owe my mother? I have answered that question this way: I owe her my prayers, my forgiveness, my well wishes, my love. I don't owe her my presence or my correspondence, because in doing that I remain inside her toxic web.

I wish you all the best as you try to answers these tough questions in your own life. If you would like prayers, I would love to pray for you.

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Preparing Our Daughters For Lifelong Marriage Part 1

No doubt you're sick of hearing about the Duggars by now, but I really want to encourage mothers and wives by giving a Christian perspective on Anna Duggar's situation, and speak on how we can prepare our daughters for marriage and for a life of faith. Should we really "teach them to breathe fire" and would that prevent heartbreak in their lives?

In this first piece, I will deal with just the beginning portion of the worldly sentiments presented in the letter featured below. In another piece, I'll write on the breathe-fire portion.

Kirkland, a mother of two girls, recently wrote a Facebook post that went viral, detailed here and excerpted below:

Anna Duggar is in the worst position she could possibly be in right now. Anna Duggar was crippled by her parents by receiving no education, having no work experience (or life experience, for that matter) and then was shackled to this loser because his family was famous in their religious circle. Anna Duggar was taught that her sole purpose in life, the most meaningful thing she could do, was to be chaste and proper, a devout wife, and a mother. Anna Duggar did that! Anna Duggar followed the rules that were imposed on her from the get-go and this is what she got in reward.
As a mother of daughters, this makes me ill. Parents, WE MUST DO BETTER BY OUR DAUGHTERS. Boys, men, are born with power. Girls have to command it for themselves. They aren't given it. They assume it and take it. But you have to teach them to do it, that they can do it. We HAVE to teach our daughters that they are not beholden to men like this. That they don't have to marry a man their father deems "acceptable" and then stay married to that man long, long after he proved himself UNACCEPTABLE. Educate them. Empower them. Give them the tools they need to survive, on their own if they must. Josh Duggar should be cowering in fear of Anna Duggar right now. Cowering. He isn't, but he should be. He should be quaking in fear that the house might fall down around them if he's in the same room as she. Please, instill your daughters with the resolve to make a man cower if he must. To say "I don't deserve this, and my children don't deserve this." I wish someone had ever, just once, told Anna she was capable of this. That she knew she is. As for my girls, I'll raise them to think they breathe fire.

It's tempting to champion this woman's cause given the completely humiliating manner in which Josh treated Anna. As much as I've cringed at Josh Duggar's heartbreaking sins and how unfavorably they reflect on Christianity, I'm mindful that we know very little information. Isn't that usually true, when we're tempted to judge others?

We have no idea what went on in their marriage or in their daily family life, but I know from experience that when you're caring for a newborn and other little ones, you have little interest in marital relations. (Don't roll your eyes yet...I am not going to excuse Josh or any other unfaithful spouse.) Weeks or sometimes months can go by without any attention to our husbands, easily, during this first year (or during times of intense stress), and our husbands are put in a difficult place, because to keep reminding us about their needs appears insensitive to our exhaustion or our feelings. I think many men remain silent so as not to provoke us or feel like schmucks.

Most women are aroused by feeling close to and in love with their husbands, and by being rested and relaxed enough to feel light and playful. Men are aroused far more easily (given their visual bent) and can even be aroused during times of exhaustion and intense stress.

Communication is very, very important here.

Our husbands are responsible before God for their decisions and actions, no matter whether we remember their needs or not. It isn't fair to blame an overwhelmed and physically exhausted mother for her husband's pornography habit or an affair, but it is wise for mothers to prepare their daughters to keep lines of communication open with their husbands in the year after childbirth, and during times of intense family stress. It's an unwise woman who assumes her husband is doing fine, as long as he isn't nagging for attention. Grace must abound on both sides.

God always provides a way out of temptation and open communication is one of those means in a marriage.

I am not indicating by these statements that I think Josh is a real Christian gone wrong, or that by more marital relations their issues could have been prevented. I don't know his spiritual state, but total deception such as his can start with small spiritual compromises, accompanied by a sense of entitlement. Satan is sure to spur us on in our compromises, by increasing our sense of entitlement.

We need to resist the temptation to make villains of one spouse or the other when we hear bits and pieces of marital stories, since no one knows the inner workings of a marriage, as I said. We do best to pray for our own marriage and the marriages within our churches. Because marriage. is. hard.

I resolve to prepare my daughters for the complexities of married life...for how many of us went into marriage wholly unprepared for the complexity, and had to make mistakes to learn how to dance well together? A lifelong marriage will have very low points, and only the strongest finish the race.

The world will scream for us to cut our losses, get out and start over, but the spiritually steadfast and long-suffering stay the course (though if you are being abused, put physical and emotional distance between you and the abuser, by all means).

And incidentally, when an adulterer remains unrepentant, he is abusing his wife emotionally and she is justified in leaving, with the Lord's blessing. Before it becomes clear that an adulterer is unrepentant, I believe the Lord would rather we keep our eyes on Him and proceed cautiously, though we can leave for adultery right away, if desired.

The world would have us believe that a women who stays is weak and stupid, but God's glory shines through us best when we focus on His character, rather than on what we deserve.

Kristen Welsh from We Are That Family successfully dealt with her husband's addiction to pornography (he's an ex youth pastor) and they have a strong marriage now. With our eyes on God instead of on our immediate heartache, marriage can persevere.

Anna Duggar is in the worst position she could possibly be in right now. This is a worldly perspective only. Anna Duggar is (let's assume), a born-again Christian and as such, she's got eternal life to look forward to, rather than eternal suffering. Contrary to Ms. Kirkland's sentiment, Anna is blessed beyond measure.

The 20-year-old woman who gets in a car accident a month before her wedding and becomes a paraplegic for life, is in a pretty awful situation, too, but like Anna's situation, it's part of the sin curse. We all suffer and everyone has devastating periods in their lives, whether they come early or later in our middle years. We all need divine strength to get through the day. We all need to be thankful for every day, and reminded that godliness with contentment is great gain.

Anna Duggar was crippled by her parents by receiving no education, having no work experience (or life experience, for that matter) and then was shackled to this loser because his family was famous in their religious circle. 

Anna was crippled by her parents? While at least a two-year degree or a vocational skill is desirable before marriage, the Bible does not ask us to put our hope in education. Psalm 39:7 "But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.

The Bible does mandate one type of education--spiritual education, as outlined here:

Deuteromony 11:19 "You shall therefore impress these words of mine on your heart and on your soul; and you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontals on your forehead. "You shall teach them to your sons, talking of them when you sit in your house and when you walk along the road and when you lie down and when you rise up. "You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates,…

The Bible also teaches that if we put the Kingdom of God first, then God will provide for all of our daily needs, education or not--and I say this as someone who, as a former public educator, has been guilty in the past of worshiping education.

Matthew 6:32-34 "For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

It's so easy for all of us to disregard this verse when our daily bread appears insecure, as it may for Anna right now, but God's Word stands firm, no matter our circumstances. When we make a commitment to live each day for his glory and give tomorrow to Him, our joy abounds.


Friday, August 28, 2015

The One Thing You'll Never Regret


Romans 11:36 For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.

Do you worry about the future and what it holds for your children?

As a mother I have legitimate reason to worry about my children, but I try not to. When the waves of despair threaten me, I do a stubborn about-face and go in search of joy, instead.

God is too powerful, too gracious, too faithful, for me to fret. I know it's a sin, besides.

But the signs are all there. Signs of series mental illness in more than one of my children. One, who previously wasn't a source of much worry, is displaying early bipolar signs.

It's hard not to feel terror when I assess the situation and see the tell-tale signs.

That's one side of my life circumstances.

The other is this: my children delight me with their love, their sibling relationships, their unique intelligences, their sweetness, their evangelistic efforts with more and more neighbor children.

I see their gifts, their huge hearts, their worship of the Savior, and I'm overjoyed.

Life is like that...like a teeter-totter. On the one hand is immense joy, and on the other hand, intense sorrow.

When I'm at my best spiritually I know the Lord's holding it all in balance; there isn't a single detail he's going to forget about, or fail to cover for in his ultimate plan.

I don't have a crystal ball to see the adult outcome for my affected children, whether it's missionary work, a lucrative self-employment, a professorship, or even a subsidized apartment on disability. Success or failure, I can't predict. The statistics don't help me, because the mentally ill can get by fine, or they can falter, crash and burn.

I have no control at all. We're stubborn and sorely mistaken when we insist we yet wield some control over the future.

So much happens to the adolescent brain and my little girls may not escape something mental themselves. Mental illness can get worse or first appear around that time, and usually persists for a lifetime, at great cost to loved ones and to the sufferers.

I've learned to do the only thing I can do--I spend an inordinate amount of time pointing my children to Jesus, the Healer.

Maybe you don't have these concerns with your own children. Maybe everything about their futures looks promising.

Still, you don't have any control either. I highly recommend spending an inordinate amount of time pointing them to the Savior. 

It's the one thing you'll never regret.

Or the one thing you'll wish you'd done.

If it's the former in your case, your child's life will reflect His glory. His glory with eclipse any pain, suffering, or sadness. And let me tell you...these aren't just some soothing words on a screen. They're my reality.

He. is. faithful. Hallelujah.

Hebrews 1:3 He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high...

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Do Not Worry About Money...Ever



For over ten years, the financial health of our family has been precarious. Precarious means: not securely held or in position; dangerously likely to fall or collapse.

Yes, that pretty much nails it.

I left full-time teaching when my first child was born, and worked part-time from home for the first three-and-a-half years of his life. I stunk at balancing home and work life, being nearly always behind schedule. All-nighters became the typical means I employed to catch up on paperwork before the homeschooling facilitating meetings I conducted for a public charter school in California, one week a month. I also taught a couple enrichment classes, but mostly, I worked from home.

Pregnant with my third child and two still in diapers, a nervous breakdown seemed likely. My husband, a Pennsylvania native, loved California but I told him I couldn't live that way anymore and could we please move to a cheaper state so I could stay home? No matter the numbers, I said. God says he will provide for those who seek first His Kingdom.

I studied the Bible and knew it was not my responsibility to support my family financially. As bad as that sounds in this modern era, it is true. Mothers can work, but they aren't required by God to do so if a husband is present and able-bodied. They are required to be good stewards of family resources, such as the Proverbs 31 woman was, but a breadwinner? No.

Before quitting work entirely my income twice benefited our family: in the purchase of our first home in California in 2001, and then in our cross-country move, our home here in Ohio in 2005. Not to mention that my teacher retirement, available in about six years, will cover our house payment for the following 14 years, until it's paid off. (Okay, that's assuming God won't let California go bankrupt before that--California being the holder of my teacher's retirement account).

So, I've done something to support our family financially, just not recently.

My husband? Terrified about describes his reaction to my request. The prospect of being relatively poor for the rest of our lives sent him into a depression he's never fully come out of--but he didn't say no to my request to be home full-time. He believed me when I confessed I was headed for a nervous breakdown.

I loved and still love mothering--believing it is who the Lord created me to be on earth--and I wanted to do it well for the glory of God. Leaving my two baby boys with a sitter several hours a week tore my heart in two. With a third child on the way, I knew what was needed.

A full-time mothering ministry. 

Day in and day out, I wanted my mothering work to express my gratitude for the little blessings God so graciously gifted to me. I wanted my roles in life to come from the Bible, not from the world. I believed and still do believe that the Lord will provide for my at-home mothering position--if I keep my eyes and heart on what is most important.

And despite my husband's fear, I knew the Lord would bless him with a solid legacy if he, too, lived out his biblical role for our family--knowing that the Bible doesn't command a man to support his family in style. A man just needs to feed, clothe, and shelter his family, through his obedience and through the Lord's provision.

I knew not to look for financial blessing from all this. Financially is only one way God blesses. If we do what he assigns us in the Bible to do, we are not promised a comfortable life in return. There are spiritual blessings from following God's word and they aren't necessarily externally manifested. Our struggling for ten years financially is not a curse, though it may look like it from the outside.

At times, this lifestyle is excruciatingly hard for all six of us. We're the "poorest" family in any church we attend (except for some of the single-parent homes), but it's a hidden thing mostly because our thrift store clothes look pretty good, and our van isn't too bad on the outside either.

We know being a part of America's working poor is far different than abject, or third-world poverty, so "poor" isn't a good description, but poverty is always a relative thing. If you're the only family who never goes to lunch after church and can't even afford a camping trip--much less a vacation or a movie out--than it translates to an impoverished feel...

...if you don't hold your thoughts captive for Christ.

2 Corinthians 10:5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

The minute we entertain coveting thoughts--or want more of the world's riches than we enjoy--our thoughts become sin. The result is disastrous if we don't heed the Holy Spirit's prickle and repent.

I'd like to say it gets easier, but it doesn't. I have greater faith than ever before though. As that faith continues to grow, my testimony deepens with each bill the Lord provides for. I know what it's like to wait for manna from the sky, rejoicing that it came just in time, but that doesn't mean I enjoy having to wait.

Sadly, I miscarried our third child shortly before our California-to-Ohio move--but after we'd sold our house and couldn't look back. I often think about the miracle of that timing. If we hadn't sold the house already, my husband may have withdrawn his consent to living poorly.

We moved in August, 2005. We got rid of all our bills and student loans by selling our modest 3-bedroom California home, and buying an inexpensive 3-bedroom Ohio home. We live on a cash basis and almost always buy used or do without. My home decor has seen no changes in ten years, unless you count little thrift-store trinkets that find their way to a shelf.

My husband is a low-wage earner, having earned a Bible college degree that never translated to financial success. He knows the Bible backwards and forwards though, which comes in handy often.

The financial numbers that should have concretely given us permission to do this, have never worked out to this day. We didn't have earthly "permission" for me to stay at home. It's entirely a daily act of faith. A daily testing of Matthew 6.
Matthew 6:19-21, 26-34 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also....No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[?28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

We remain as sinful as the next person, and just this week I needed a popular Apologia Christian science textbook for the girls' science curriculum that I couldn't afford, and couldn't find used. I evaluated it and decided it was a need not a want, but at first I just downloaded the first sample chapter for free from the publisher, which wasn't going to last long.

Finally, impatient, I bought it new, but at a discount over the publisher price. Though I felt the purchase was consistent with seeking after God's Kingdom first, I preceded to worry about the money I spent.

But you know? Not ten minutes after I hit purchase, a homeschooling mother from homeschoolclassifieds.com finally responded to my inquiry. Yes, she still had the used textbook for $20 postage paid, and did I still need it? 

My heart went all a flutter.

I had just spent $34 on it after shipping, but thankfully, the purchase being less than fifteen minutes old, the company refunded me, no questions asked, and lo and behold, I now have a nice used textbook coming in the mail from a very nice homeschooling lady. 

Little did she know how God used her to bring me back into the fold of believing.

I immediately felt ashamed of myself that after ten years, I doubted God would provide...even though he has always provided for needs, unfailingly. He loves the last-minute scenario, never telling me of his plans, but asking me to trust him implicitly. He commands me...do not worry about money. Ever.

Please my friend, whatever your situation: Do Not Worry About Money, even if you've messed up with money. Study the Word and decide what "seeking after his Kingdom" will look like in your life. You are responsible for that, not for your daily needs.

Isn't it freeing to know that? His yoke really is easy and his burden, light.

Matthew 1:28-30 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”