a recommendation

Hinds' Feet On High Places, by Hannah Hurnard (Delightfully Illustrated and Arranged for Children by Dian Layton)

Excerpt from pages 108-111

"At last she put her hand in His and said softly, "My Lord, I will tell You what I learned."


"Tell me," He answered gently.


"First," she said, "I learned that I must accept with joy every path that You lead me on and everything that You let happen to me.  I am not to try to get away from what You want for me; I am to lay down my own desires and be Your little handmaiden, Acceptance-With-Joy."


He nodded without speaking and she went on.  "Then I learned that I must forgive when others are allowed to hurt me.  I am to say, 'Here I am, Your little handmaiden Bearing-With-Love.'  Then I will have the power to bring good out of the bad things that happen to me."


He nodded again and she smiled happily.


"The third thing I learned was that You, my Shepherd King, never looked at me as I was--weak and crooked and fearful.  You saw me as I would be when You had done what You promised.  You always treated me as though I were already the King's daughter and not poor little Much-Afraid."  She stopped and looked up into His face.  "Oh, King, I want to treat others the way You have treated me!"


He smiled at her with a very lovely smile and nodded for her to keep on.


"The fourth thing was really the first lesson I learned up here, on the High Places.  Everything that happens in life, no matter how crooked and ugly it may seem to be, can be changed if I treat it with love, forgiveness, and obedience to Your will."


"You let us meet with the bad and wrong things that You want changed.  Maybe that is why we are in this world.  You want the sorrow and suffering, the ugly and wrong things, to be made into something beautiful.  You want us to overcome evil with good."


At last He spoke.  "You have learned well.  Because of these lessons, I was able to change you from limping, crippled Much-Afraid into Grace and Glory with the hinds' feet.  Now you can run and leap on the mountains."  


"So remember this:  As long as you are willing to be Acceptance-With-Joy and Bearing-With-Love, you can never again become crippled, and you will be able to go where I lead.  Now use your hinds' feet again.  I am going to lead you to another part of the mountain."

Excerpt from page 113, toward the end of the book:

Then Grace and Glory (formerly Much-Afraid) looked over at the great waterfall, which joyfully sang the water song as the waters poured themselves forth.

Come, oh come!  Let us away
Lower and lower every day.
From the heights we leap and flow
To the valleys far below.
Always answering to the call,
To the lowest place of all.


Suddenly she understood.  She was only one of the many, many servants of the King who had been brought to the High Places.  She was only one drop among the millions of self-givers who could now pour out their lives like the waterfall.


"He brought me here for this," she whispered to herself.


The King nodded.


______________________________________

Buy this book for your children, please!  Or borrow it from your church library.  It may not be five-star writing, but my boys understood every word of  it.  Each night, they didn't want me to stop reading.  Each night, I cried over the beauty and truth of the words.  I grew spiritually, too, while reading it!

Most importantly, it has given me valuable tools and language for speaking to my children about hardships, and about why God allows them.  After reading this book, youngsters will actually understand why they must surrender their will (desires) to God.  Too, it can be reread often, and the concepts alluded to, throughout a child's upbringing and young adulthood.

Children my boys' ages (6 and 8) often understand the concept of salvation, but not that of Lordship.  I have spoken of it for years, but this book introduces it in story form, and I sensed a deeper comprehension in both boys.  I am so excited for them!

Sorrow and Suffering are Much-Afraid's helpers (given to her by the Shepherd (Jesus)), who hold her hands as she climbs to the High Places.  Much-Afraid starts out crippled at the mouth and legs--later to be healed, which is symbolic of Jesus making our hearts more beautiful, after we surrender our will.

Along the journey she meets some enemies (her unsaved relatives), in the form of Pride, Self-Pity, Resentment, Bitterness.

How I wish I had known about these enemies, growing up!  Think about how useful (in Kingdom speak) our children will be, if we teach them early about Lordship, about Acceptance-With-Joy, about Bearing-With-Love.  And about our enemies--Pride, Self-Pity, Resentment, Bitterness--who would stifle the voice of God, if allowed.

Now, there are no shortcuts to the learning that sorrow and suffering afford us.  How I wish there were!  I know my boys will have to go through things on their own, as adults, to fully understand the beauty of sorrow and suffering.  But all the things they are enduring now, as a result of financial strain, fit right into these concepts, and they will remember this time, and these lessons.

This book can be read at any time with young children, but it's especially valuable when your family, or your child, is going through a trial.

I plan on looking for the adult version right away, which I understand is a classic devotional.

Peter was especially blessed, since he deals with some huge hardships--vocal/motor tics, ADHD, Obsessive/Compulsive issues (distortion of religious beliefs and contamination obsessions).

One person some of you know online, who reminds me of Much-Afraid (who became Grace and Glory) is Ann Voskamp.  Ann has suffered in her life, in ways chronicled on her blog A Holy Experience.  Her mother was diagnosed with Split Personality Disorder while Ann was still a child, and went into an institution for an undisclosed amount of time, which left Ann to mother and cook for her whole family, at the age of nine. Her father would not allow the family to discuss the mother's absence or illness.  They lived in secrecy, rather than with support.

Later, when Ann was older, her mother disappeared for awhile, which eventually led to her father remarrying-- breaking Ann's heart.

Also, Ann has agoraphobia, which apparently used to be more debilitating than it is now.  Most of you have probably visited Ann's blog many times, but if not, know that it's always a good read--very spiritual and also poetic, partially because of her signature sentence length (she writes very long and winding sentences, which no one else could get away with.  But from her, it is poetry.).

I don't want to sound like I'm worshipping a person, which we humans are apt to do.  Ann is only spiritually beautiful because of what God has allowed in her life--none of her stunning spiritual revelations or her poetry are of her.  It's all God, using the gifts he has given her to bring glory to Himself.  She has learned to willingly pour herself out for Kingdom purposes.  She walked the path to the "High Places", and now God uses her mightily every day, at home and in the blogsphere.  She is a giant in the Christian blog world, and her post today will illustrate why.

Ann's life work is her family, and only secondly, her writing.  Her most important life lesson to date, that of gratitude, marks the cornerstone of her Christian walk.  She has learned that to deal with our enemies--Pride, Self-Pity, Resentment, Bitterness--we must be grateful.  We must choose gratitude, clothe ourselves in it, even. (Humility finds its way into all her posts, as well.)

It's not a new lesson, but it's a timeless one.  The Christian mothers in abject poverty have no education or speaking platform, but I know they've come to the same conclusion.  Gratitude.  


It heals, strengthens, and endures.

let sorry and worry pass away, Momma!

It's been an utterly exhausting evening.  No particular reason, really.   Just witching-hour stuff that extended until bedtime.

90% of the time the dinner dishes must be left until all are in bed.  I stagger bedtimes--three of them--to enjoy special time with each girl, and then the boys together.  I don't mind dishes, generally.  But I dread post-bedtime dishes! After caring for little ones by myself for fourteen straight hours, energy no longer flows from me.  Someday, perhaps husband will be home in the evenings to start baths while I clean the kitchen early evening.

Nothing grows you like solo parenting.  A few minutes here, an hour there, is all we get of Daddy.  Such is the life of the "working poor".  Busy, busy, busy, with no forward motion.  Quite maddening.  My husband is feeling the stress keenly.  The working poor--often scrambling in several different jobs--is a fast growing segment of society, thanks to the recession.  Many people were unable to obtain comparable income, after losing their jobs initially.  Some were in fields that outsourced or automated (like administrative secretaries).  

Anyhow, if you know a single mom, ask her if you can watch the kids for a couple hours?

Time to count some blessings so I can spring right up and dash to the kitchen joyfully--cleaning and wiping away.  The simple act of surveying the day, looking for bright spots, is an act of worship.  However downcast you were, all sorrow and worry will pass away, as your list builds.  You melt knowing that, yes, God is there.  Still.  Sovereign and Almighty.  Detail-oriented expert, blessing you in the moments.

Notice.  Notice and give thanks.

My Blessing List

- During dinner I always ask about their favorite parts of the day.  Peter said, readily, "My favorite part was writing the letter to my new pen pal."  A blog reader and I hooked up our kids and today we got our first pen pal letter in the mail.  Oh my, were they blessed--particularly Peter!  The same-age pen pal wrote that she liked bugs and animal science.  After Peter read that, he grinned up at me, "Mommy!  Jesus keeps blessing me with people who like bugs!"  I choked up at that, and could only give him a hug in reply.  Dear Friend, thank you for having your daughter write that precious letter!

- Finding some long-lost mittens and hats, the children tried them on. Imaginations sparked, leading to bandit and sheriff play.  Laughter filled the halls, the bedrooms, as they looked for black clothes.  These moments of imaginative play make me want to stop time--to freeze frame the raucous sounds and sights of sibling delight.  (Okay, it can does give me a headache, but I still appreciate it.)

- The view outside.  Half-naked trees....leaves blanketing lawn.  Wind gusts and leaf showers remind.  Winter's new set of tree clothes--snow white--arrives soon.  Praise God for four sets of tree clothes--all uniquely beautiful!

- Homemade applesauce

- Comfort-food aromas

- Freshly-vacuumed carpet

- Children who notice nature.  Our resident squirrels are mighty busy right now.  "They're getting ready for winter, Mommy".  Acorns were gathered at a park yesterday, then thrown around our yard for the squirrels.  Let's see what happens to those the squirrels don't find, shall we?

- A boy of six who hugs Mommy after she apologizes for harshness. "I know you sometimes have a hard time, Mommy.  I love you."

- Sitting on the couch this morning with the children, as they practiced their Christmas Pageant songs.  The songs are beautiful, teaching well about the true meaning of Christmas.

Peter said as we were finishing up, "Christmas is so much more than the decorations, isn't it, Mommy?"

It's one thing to preach this, but kids love their glitter and glitz, don't they?  Even though my boys have solid relationships with Jesus Christ, they've never really comprehended the true meaning of Christmas.  I sense that through this Christmas Pageant story ("Miracle on Main Street"), that will change.  We're practicing their parts and all the songs for our morning devotions, through mid-December.

Every year they've asked for a well-decorated house and every year we can't afford it.  Perhaps they won't even ask this year!  Remind me to give the Children's Director a big hug for her pageant-curriculum choice!  Perfect timing for our family.


1 Thessalonians 5:18
..give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

And It's No Thanks to Us

Can you name any little sins or weaknesses you've made progress on in the last year?  I mean to the extent that you no longer consider them problems?  

Does the Christian walk seem futile sometimes?  I mean, sure, we have these Christian words we use--like grace, mercy, humility, brokenness--but are we really any different than the average Joe?  

Are we set apart from the crowd--evidenced by our inner joy and peace?

I'm not sure how this miracle works, but the answer is emphatically, YES! We are different. Even on our worst, most downcast days, we look blessed to Someone--a someone who is quietly noticing us.  We never know who or when or where or why, usually.

We don't need to know.

And who has set Someone's (meaning any person's) gaze upon us?  The Lord!  They see in us only what God wants them to see.  We are merely instruments in God's plan.

And it's no thanks to us.

The more I live this Christian life, the more I realize my will is nothing--accomplishes nothing.  It can hurt, but it can never help.

I used to dislike cooking.  There weren't many things I could make well, partially because I was afraid of high-flavor foods (for their fat and salt content).  I've always been an eat-to-live person.  Food only interested me in restaurants. Indeed, I'd get lost in a book and forget to eat, back in my single days.

And another thing.  I had the hardest time remembering to thaw something for dinner.  It was amazing how many consecutive days this would happen to me--forcing me to thaw something at the last minute in the microwave, which sometimes ruined the meat.

But no more.  I'm a decent cook now.  And guess what else?  I love to cook! I actually love to cook.  And "what's for dinner" is always on my radar--no more microwave thawing.

Tonight, as I was making two batches of potato soup, I marveled at the change in me.  I now view cooking as a gift to my family.  No, not a chore.  A gift, happily given.  A fun thing to do, even--minus the toddler's interruptions.

And here is the miracle.

 I don't recall saying to myself, "It's a shame I can't cook well.  I really need to improve in this area, for these reasons--blah, blah, blah."

No, I never had such a conversation with my head or heart.

My point in all this?

IT WAS GOD!  He wanted me to become a good cook--one who blesses willingly and lovingly.

I don't know why, or even why now.  Why isn't important.  The lesson is that positive change comes from God, not of ourselves.  And it comes in His timing, for his purposes.  His "to-do" list for our hearts and lives may not match ours.  As I said, I wasn't berating myself for being a mediocre or poor cook.

Now, the volume of unfolded clothes on the sofa?  I berate myself often for that.

This whole, now-I-can-cook topic probably seems like a small thing here on this screen, as though it was even silly to write about.

But I know how big this change is, from yesteryear.  Only tonight in my soup making did it really hit home.

I'm a different person.  Unrecognizable even, in some respects.

Friends, be joyful.  God is working on you in ways you can't even imagine--for his purposes--and you don't need to worry about the details.  Your will, your plans, however lofty...they are nothing.

When God needs me to keep up with the clean-laundry folding, I will suddenly start doing it.  Easily.  Joyfully.  (Right now, I must confess, I hate it.)

It gives me such peace, knowing that I'm God's piece of work.  Not my own. The blueprints are none of my business, really.

So, what does God want me to do then?  What is my role, if it isn't to improve myself?

To fellowship with Him.  Give Him the glory.  Live joyfully, with a peaceful, grateful heart.  Be as a child without burden.

Psalm 118:24 "This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

"... for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose."  Philippians 2:13

what binds women friends?

We had a playdate with a new homeschooling family this week.

I liked Kathleen, the mother, and her two girls (her older boys stayed at home).  She has one biological child and three adopted children, two of whom came from Guatemala three years ago.  Her children range in age from 6 to 14.  She is 48 and her husband is 54.  I am 44 and my husband is 52.  

A rare picture of our full family, minus Daddy.

Kathleen lives in a neighborhood where the average income is probably $400,000/year.  My neighborhood's average is roughly $45,000/yr.  

Kathleen sends her kids to an exclusive school twice a week, for $8,000/yr total.  I struggle to buy 3rd grade lined writing paper.

She is wife to a doctor.  I am wife to a custodian.

She has stylish clothes and a great haircut.  My hair is four months behind on a trim and I wear thrift-store clothes.

The differences are many.  Striking.

But they didn't matter.

What could we have possibly had in common?  And how did we manage to understand each other?

We are both mothers, struggling with our own sin as we strive to love, encourage and teach our children.  We both imperfectly, but passionately, love the Savior.  We both imperfectly, but passionately, love our children.

Motherhood and the Savior.  What better to bind new friends?

Kathleen and her husband have their home up for sale.  They are downsizing and paying off all debt, and ending frivolous spending.  All this was from the Lord.  They are also overseeing the building of a children's home in Guatemala.

It's one thing to downsize because you lost your job, but quite another to do it voluntarily, when you already use every inch of your home.  I admire their obedience so much!  Goodbye materialism!

The children are looking for a good place to let some salamanders go.  Peter found them last weekend and observed/enjoyed them at home for four days.  This was the appointed day to let them go.  The new friends, two girls ages 6 and 9, were thrilled with Peter's salamanders.  Their mom, on the other hand, was not.  Not  a creepy crawly kind of gal.  :)

Praise God for the way new friends cross our paths!  Amazing, isn't it?  I sent out Ann Voskamp's posts about Guatemala to my homeschool group, and Kathleen (who is on the e-mail list) sent an e-mail introducing herself to me, and asking if we wanted to get together.

Psalm 119:63  I am a friend to all who fear you, to all who follow your precepts.

The task-oriented mother - do her children feel loved?

Motherhood.

It's a beautiful word....a beautiful state of being, isn't it?  Such a privilege.

Much of the intensity is over in eighteen to twenty short years.  That's really short, when you consider that most people survive well into their seventies. The majority of our earthly years do not include having children under our roof.

That fact should make me feel an ounce of relief, given the current state of:

- my living room (four loads of clothes to fold)  

- my kitchen (baked chicken/mashed sweet potato dinner dishes to do, and double chocolate chip baking paraphernalia to clean. I baked for the church children's director's family).

- my dining room floor (grass/mud tracked in from back door today, crumbs from about five meals, sticky unknown substances under the table from the last two meals)

- my bathrooms (both floors need moping, mirrors need windexing)

- the playroom (massive amount of large Legos were dumped before bed, train track pieces and books are also all over, courtesy of my sweet toddler.)

Too, I should feel relief at the thought of having leisure time for reading--something from which I derive much pleasure.  And leisure time for creating a beautiful, soothing flower garden.

But somehow the thought of these future pleasures--reading, gardening, gourmet cooking, having a clean house--give me no relief.  Not even an ounce.

Nothing will ever be as special--or as pleasurable--as what I'm doing right now.  Mothering.  These are the best years, months, days, hours, and moments, of my life.

When you're pregnant with your first child, or about to adopt your first, no one tells you about:

- the joy of having a sleepy little person come down the hall at 7:00 a.m., ready for some good-morning lovin'

- the joy of having a squeaky-clean little one in your lap for night time stories

- the joy of having a toddler/preschooler talk your ear off during potty time

- the joy of seeing your big-little boy settle down with a beloved book several times a day

- the joy of hearing giggles in the playroom while you cook, squeals and laughter in the yard while you hang clothes, friendly sibling whispers in the bedroom after tuck in

- the joy of watching your beloved husband hug your little toddler, his eyes tearing up

- the joy of being the absolute favorite person of four little people

- the joy of nourishing a sweet baby/toddler at your breast

I can make this list much longer, but the words still won't adequately express the heart-joy that is motherhood.

I want so much to convey to my children, every day, how much I love being their mommy.  How much they color my world happy, meaningful, growth-rich.

And yet.

Oh, yes, there is a painful yet.

I am, by nature, task-oriented.  Understand, I don't want to be.  I don't choose it.

Do you know someone like that--someone task oriented?  They give you the busy-bee impression, without meaning to. You can feel it as you stand next to them or talk with them on the phone.  They rush through life, moving from task to task, crossing off their to-do list.

I have one aunt here in Ohio with whom I can sit on the couch, feeling as though she has all the time in the world to spend with me...with my family.   She's completely engaged, in tune with the people--always the people.

I have another aunt here who is just as nice, but when I sit on the couch with her, I have the impression she's about to get up to attend to something. She's completely preoccupied, although she's still polite enough to make eye contact.

Both are lovely, genuinely nice ladies.

But guess which one I want to be like?  Which one do you want to be like?

In order to convey to our children that we love being their mommies...to convey that everything they think, feel, and do is important to us, we have to fight our first nature--that task-oriented nature.  (If you don't have a task-oriented nature, you're a fortunate mommy!)  I don't mean we have to follow our children around all day, hanging on their every word and forgetting all housekeeping.  But we do have to give the impression of the first aunt I described--the people-oriented one.

For most of us with more than one child, that means learning to live with a disheveled house.  A less than clean one.  Forget about what that neighbor thinks, the one who happened to see it at its worst.  Does her opinion count?  And why should it?  Is she part of our legacy?  Is the shape of our house part of our legacy, really?

Years from now, it won't matter that we merely felt our children were our greatest joy.

We have to convey it, too.