Having finished Proverbs yesterday, we are continuing in Psalms during meals and have added the Book of Matthew.
Something new struck me as I began reading:
Matthew 2:13-14
.....an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him." So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, where he stayed until the death of Herod.
and again:
Matthew 2:19-21
After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child's life are dead." So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel.
How amazing that both times, Joseph just immediately obeys! He could have wondered if the dream was just an everyday dream. He could have rolled over and gone back to sleep. He could have stewed about it for several days, wondering what to do. But no, he just gets up and goes. Complete, immediate obedience.
We don't have the luxury of receiving direct instructions through an angel of the Lord, but we do have the Holy Spirit to nudge us.
Let us be like Joseph. Get up and just do it!
What instructions is the Holy Spirit giving you right now?
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
on envy and perfection
I read this quick post today about the envy related to blog hopping. Thought it was worth sharing.
No matter who you are, you'll be more comfortable in your own skin after age forty. You probably noticed a confidence perk after thirty? Another layer of that arrives by your forties. You'll make far fewer comparisons between yourself and others, and you'll put envious feelings to rest quickly. Not to mention, you'll leave the perfect mom syndrome behind you.
The reason? Life experience--simple as that. As gravity punches you in the face, rendering you shriveled, your mind is busy gathering information about how God gifts each person uniquely. A greater level of humility comes with the wrinkles, too, as you learn how weak, dumb and inadequate you really are.
The very young and the very old quickly see their need for God. But those of us in the prime of life? (20's, 30's, 40's)? We feel invincible and capable, falsely. After getting to the end of ourselves enough times, we finally get it! And then the fifties hit. Sweet.
Just think, by age seventy you'll have the wisdom of Solomon....all is not lost!
No matter who you are, you'll be more comfortable in your own skin after age forty. You probably noticed a confidence perk after thirty? Another layer of that arrives by your forties. You'll make far fewer comparisons between yourself and others, and you'll put envious feelings to rest quickly. Not to mention, you'll leave the perfect mom syndrome behind you.
The reason? Life experience--simple as that. As gravity punches you in the face, rendering you shriveled, your mind is busy gathering information about how God gifts each person uniquely. A greater level of humility comes with the wrinkles, too, as you learn how weak, dumb and inadequate you really are.
The very young and the very old quickly see their need for God. But those of us in the prime of life? (20's, 30's, 40's)? We feel invincible and capable, falsely. After getting to the end of ourselves enough times, we finally get it! And then the fifties hit. Sweet.
Just think, by age seventy you'll have the wisdom of Solomon....all is not lost!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
on my snobbery
I'm a writing snob. Yes, siree. And proud of it!
But apologetically so.
A few times a year the first grade teachers I taught with collaborated on big events, such as Thanksgiving feasts and field trips. At the planning meeting, one of us would volunteer to write a parent letter detailing the event. Sounds wonderful, this delegating, no? It saved us all time periodically, so we could pretend to have a life outside of teaching (first grade is a challenge).
But a problem arose for me, coming out of these meetings. Being a writing snob, I felt teachers had an obligation to send home only well-written letters, sans errors. After all, we were paid (pretty well) to have a clue about such things! I never said anything, so as not to offend, but friends, only one of my five colleagues could write a decent memo!
When the group letter wasn't up to par, I rewrote one to send home with my students, making sure to photocopy it on an evening or weekend, so my colleagues wouldn't learn of my snobby ways. I carefully destroyed any evidence in the teacher workroom.
I should have just addressed the issue with my colleagues, you're thinking. Right? Well, it would have been difficult to do so without being annoying.
Since those years, I've seen a few memos sent out by other teachers, including my son's preschool teacher. Her letters lacked even basic punctuation.
We are not a nation of writers, I'm sorry to say. I'm not just picking on teachers! This is a widespread problem. Some people have a natural gift, true, but the majority of us need direct and systematic teaching over a number of years. And that isn't happening in our schools. I had to write essays in middle and high school, but many writing traits weren't taught--just punctuation, grammar, and the basic five-paragraph essay.
I can't fix this, but I do mourn over it.
What I can do is write a post to help homeschooling families tackle the systematic teaching of writing.
Only tonight, I need to catch up on some sleep.
Look for a short post on Six Trait writing later this week.
My older son had a much better day, by the way! We got down on our knees together twice, begging God to release us from old patterns--during writing time, actually.
I'll address the fits young ones have during writing, also.
But apologetically so.
A few times a year the first grade teachers I taught with collaborated on big events, such as Thanksgiving feasts and field trips. At the planning meeting, one of us would volunteer to write a parent letter detailing the event. Sounds wonderful, this delegating, no? It saved us all time periodically, so we could pretend to have a life outside of teaching (first grade is a challenge).
But a problem arose for me, coming out of these meetings. Being a writing snob, I felt teachers had an obligation to send home only well-written letters, sans errors. After all, we were paid (pretty well) to have a clue about such things! I never said anything, so as not to offend, but friends, only one of my five colleagues could write a decent memo!
When the group letter wasn't up to par, I rewrote one to send home with my students, making sure to photocopy it on an evening or weekend, so my colleagues wouldn't learn of my snobby ways. I carefully destroyed any evidence in the teacher workroom.
I should have just addressed the issue with my colleagues, you're thinking. Right? Well, it would have been difficult to do so without being annoying.
Since those years, I've seen a few memos sent out by other teachers, including my son's preschool teacher. Her letters lacked even basic punctuation.
We are not a nation of writers, I'm sorry to say. I'm not just picking on teachers! This is a widespread problem. Some people have a natural gift, true, but the majority of us need direct and systematic teaching over a number of years. And that isn't happening in our schools. I had to write essays in middle and high school, but many writing traits weren't taught--just punctuation, grammar, and the basic five-paragraph essay.
I can't fix this, but I do mourn over it.
What I can do is write a post to help homeschooling families tackle the systematic teaching of writing.
Only tonight, I need to catch up on some sleep.
Look for a short post on Six Trait writing later this week.
My older son had a much better day, by the way! We got down on our knees together twice, begging God to release us from old patterns--during writing time, actually.
I'll address the fits young ones have during writing, also.
a warning
I found this on the Large Family Mothering Blog. Jon Voight warns us about Barack Obama's agenda.
This is not a fringe groups' beliefs. This is really happening!
This is not a fringe groups' beliefs. This is really happening!
the least of my brethren
I found an amazing blog tonight after a very troubling, draining day with my son (thanks for the link, Sandi).
When someone of faith suffers deeply, and for a long season, I find it miraculous that afterwards their words and teaching have an impact similar to that of Jesus. Suddenly, they are gifted with authority, truth, vision. When Jesus spoke to a crowd, the crowd instinctively knew that such teachings were not of man. Man is too shortsighted, without hands-on suffering, to produce anything in the jaw-dropping category.
Raising a disabled child, or being the sibling of one, produces depth. The bottomless-pit kind of depth. Reading this post, in particular, will illustrate that for you. Makes me certain that God allows disabilities to add depth to our me-focused world--to the lives of those who suffer directly, and less so, to those who experience the suffering second-hand, through writings or other expressive art.
Not a single one of us would choose such a hard life! We don't have the capacity to choose suffering. It's hard enough to avoid eating a third cookie...or an eighth. That sums up our strength sometimes, eh?
I cannot compare any disability in my home to that experienced by the blog author, Greg, above. My son has a multi-faceted relationship with all of us. That capability is a gift not enjoyed by many of the disabled, making their disability excruciating for their parents and siblings.
I deal with the following behaviors on a regular basis:
- extreme difficulty waiting
- easily angered
- difficulty calming oneself
- low frustration threshold
- invades space
- talks excessively without attention to social cues
- extreme self focus
- insatiable desire for attention
- driven as if by motor
All of these behaviors make a person far less likable. When an obviously disabled person behaves erratically, we instinctively know why. But what about when a seemingly normal person does the same? We get angry. Disgusted. We want to teach that person a thing or two, by golly. Who do they think they are, anyway?
There are times, like today, when I look at my son and think, how could he be so hateful--so hellbent on making everyone miserable? Doesn't he see what he's doing to us? Does he have no remorse?
The truth is, I don't know the answers to the above questions. I can't get inside his brain and understand. And he doesn't know either. His "differences" baffle him--often making him feel like a bad seed.
I know that many prisoners have ADHD. Usually if they end up in prison they also have oppositional defiant disorder--or even worse, conduct disorder--as a comorbid condition. In 65% of cases ADHD doesn't travel alone. In my son's case, it exists with general anxiety (elevators, explosions, being left alone, fires, strange smells, toxic chemicals, possibly-contaminated food, car accident, perceived harm/danger when none exists).
My pediatrician tells me that as my son gets older, aggressive behaviors will increase. That terrifies me. We already notice an increase in name-calling and other beginning-bully tendencies, directed toward his brother. Thankfully, they are good friends at this point. If these behaviors increase, though, Paul--who is rather passive--will begin to prefer his sisters as companions, which will only make Peter jealous and more dangerous.
Strength. I need it. The landscape will change, unless God intervenes.
Somehow, I need to grow from looking at my son and wondering, how could you, to looking at Jesus and saying, how could you?
I know the answer to that. We live in a fallen world. Pain and suffering and death exist. Some people are chosen to carry more pain, to bring glory to God. Sounds cut and dry, doesn't it?
The point of my looking at Jesus with this question, instead of at my son, is to remind me that this isn't my son's fault. He didn't choose it.
I have to let go of my angry responses, stay calm inside, and focus on teaching my son coping strategies, lest he be viewed as an angry, self-absorbed jerk. He is so much more than that! I clearly see that "so much more". But the world won't be looking so hard.
I'm 80% certain my husband has this (different form, more forgetful), so two people here need my strength and understanding. Medication is of little use in altering daily reality.
But there is something that alters daily reality.
on-my-knees humility, coupled with grace
I must clothe myself in these, so God doesn't look at me, and say, how could you?
Matthew 25:40
... Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
When someone of faith suffers deeply, and for a long season, I find it miraculous that afterwards their words and teaching have an impact similar to that of Jesus. Suddenly, they are gifted with authority, truth, vision. When Jesus spoke to a crowd, the crowd instinctively knew that such teachings were not of man. Man is too shortsighted, without hands-on suffering, to produce anything in the jaw-dropping category.
Raising a disabled child, or being the sibling of one, produces depth. The bottomless-pit kind of depth. Reading this post, in particular, will illustrate that for you. Makes me certain that God allows disabilities to add depth to our me-focused world--to the lives of those who suffer directly, and less so, to those who experience the suffering second-hand, through writings or other expressive art.
Not a single one of us would choose such a hard life! We don't have the capacity to choose suffering. It's hard enough to avoid eating a third cookie...or an eighth. That sums up our strength sometimes, eh?
I cannot compare any disability in my home to that experienced by the blog author, Greg, above. My son has a multi-faceted relationship with all of us. That capability is a gift not enjoyed by many of the disabled, making their disability excruciating for their parents and siblings.
I deal with the following behaviors on a regular basis:
- extreme difficulty waiting
- easily angered
- difficulty calming oneself
- low frustration threshold
- invades space
- talks excessively without attention to social cues
- extreme self focus
- insatiable desire for attention
- driven as if by motor
All of these behaviors make a person far less likable. When an obviously disabled person behaves erratically, we instinctively know why. But what about when a seemingly normal person does the same? We get angry. Disgusted. We want to teach that person a thing or two, by golly. Who do they think they are, anyway?
There are times, like today, when I look at my son and think, how could he be so hateful--so hellbent on making everyone miserable? Doesn't he see what he's doing to us? Does he have no remorse?
The truth is, I don't know the answers to the above questions. I can't get inside his brain and understand. And he doesn't know either. His "differences" baffle him--often making him feel like a bad seed.
I know that many prisoners have ADHD. Usually if they end up in prison they also have oppositional defiant disorder--or even worse, conduct disorder--as a comorbid condition. In 65% of cases ADHD doesn't travel alone. In my son's case, it exists with general anxiety (elevators, explosions, being left alone, fires, strange smells, toxic chemicals, possibly-contaminated food, car accident, perceived harm/danger when none exists).
My pediatrician tells me that as my son gets older, aggressive behaviors will increase. That terrifies me. We already notice an increase in name-calling and other beginning-bully tendencies, directed toward his brother. Thankfully, they are good friends at this point. If these behaviors increase, though, Paul--who is rather passive--will begin to prefer his sisters as companions, which will only make Peter jealous and more dangerous.
Strength. I need it. The landscape will change, unless God intervenes.
Somehow, I need to grow from looking at my son and wondering, how could you, to looking at Jesus and saying, how could you?
I know the answer to that. We live in a fallen world. Pain and suffering and death exist. Some people are chosen to carry more pain, to bring glory to God. Sounds cut and dry, doesn't it?
The point of my looking at Jesus with this question, instead of at my son, is to remind me that this isn't my son's fault. He didn't choose it.
I have to let go of my angry responses, stay calm inside, and focus on teaching my son coping strategies, lest he be viewed as an angry, self-absorbed jerk. He is so much more than that! I clearly see that "so much more". But the world won't be looking so hard.
I'm 80% certain my husband has this (different form, more forgetful), so two people here need my strength and understanding. Medication is of little use in altering daily reality.
But there is something that alters daily reality.
on-my-knees humility, coupled with grace
I must clothe myself in these, so God doesn't look at me, and say, how could you?
Matthew 25:40
... Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
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