Simple Woman's Daybook 10/7

Outside my window...

A vibrant array of color, the leaves delight me as always in this, my favorite season.

Not too fast, I want to shout to the heavens...not too fast.

Some leaves pile on the ground already, thrown asunder by the wind, reminding me that time passes quickly and there's nothing I can do about it. We must hug our little ones and big ones alike, for in no time our children will be off to their first apartment, thrown asunder by a swiftly moving clock life, leaving us to wonder why we ever minded the noise or the mud or all that laundry.

Oh, but to have them all back again, we'll say, tears running down our cheeks.

Snuggle up and savor. Fill them up with all your heart has to offer, and with all the Lord has to offer, through you.

I am thinking...

Why does it have to be so hard? That has crossed my mind numerous times these last couple weeks. We're going to these psychology appointments, but change, progress, is slow. Fear is a force; it must be understood and reckoned with, and we are learning that this is both simple and not so simple, especially when fear behaves like a tsunami, taking reason with it.

I guess I expected that once we were pursuing the solution, all would be well, but it may be many months of abiding in Christ. Why was I thinking I had the golden egg of solutions?

Because when is a psychologist really a solution? A solution to what? Life is as messy as it is beautiful and the Lord is my shepherd and my psychologist...I shall not want and everything I need is right there in the down payment on my inheritance...the Holy Spirit...talking to me through my prayers and through my Bible reading and through my hardest moments.

This guy behind the desk in the medical building? He can only do what the Lord wills. He's one of God's graces for us in the grand scheme of anxiety disorders, but he's not the answer to having enough endurance...to finishing the race before me. God has already equipped me with everything I need. My work, my job, is to be thankful, obedient, and available as a servant.

I am thankful for...

~ a reading program for dyslexics available to homeschoolers (reading is a grueling process for the dyslexic and one I was not privy to understand before). I don't know what I would have done without the All About Reading curriculum. I decided to use it for both Mary and Beth, though at two different levels. I wanted to prevent any problems with Beth as she becomes a reader, since dyslexia is highly heritable.

~ cooler days--especially mornings and nights, hot cocoa, baking smells in the kitchen again, pumpkin foods, apple foods, lots of homemade soups

~ a marriage that perseveres. The anxiety disorders in the children are taking their toll on our marriage, as is common when children have stressful conditions, but this marriage is solidly based on commitment, not on happiness, so grueling times like this do not shake its foundation. Praise God for that. A marriage that has seen hard times can be a testimony, and right now I am holding on tight for the glory of God. Marriage and raising children is not so much about us, but about the glory of God. Singleness can be the same, though through different avenues of bringing glory.

~ a reorganized, centralized homeschooling area for quick access to the books and assignment sheets we need throughout the day

~ a reorganized laundry-folding and storing system that leaves Mommy only folding the parental laundry. These changes have proven very helpful. The children each have their own standard-sized laundry basket containing their clean pajamas, sweats, and socks/underwear to fold and put away, plus a few towels and washcloths each. I hang everything else straight from the dryer.

~ a four-year-old Down Syndrome boy joined my church Sunday school class this last week and I really wanted to take him home with me...Peter did too. I love special needs children.

~ Sunday school children to love, though I do miss holding the babies in the nursery. I am only with the 4-year-olds now.

~ Our new church is the best church I've ever attended. We've been there about 7 weeks now I'm guessing. It isn't the AWANA church I wrote about, but a different church I found online about twenty minutes from us. I can't put my finger on what is different, but I want to say...they're just very humble, average guys (2 pastors and a youth minister) trying to minister to us, but very talented at it too. They don't view ministry through a staff vs. church member lens. Everyone is equal--there are no cliques. We're all messed-up sinners in need of grace and love and wisdom, pursuing it together, and trying to be it together, for the glory of God. That's what it feels like there and I love it and it's unanimous...the whole family loves it!

For a long time I've wanted to find such a church home, but I came to the conclusion you bloom where you're planted and make the best of it, finding all the good you could. This feels like such a joy finally...my spirit is happy there. There are tons of babies and toddlers and families--it's teaming with life the second you walk in the doors. A young church with a sprinkling of us old folks, who are all happy to look around and laugh at the joy of it all.

I am wearing...

flannel pajamas and slippers because it's late night. I had to wait until all my school prep was done before I could write tonight (as well as the dishes done and the socks and underwear put in the dryer).

I am reading...

My Bible, Little Pear from the girls' Core B curriculum (an amazingly cute and quaint classic I missed as a child and adult), Overcoming Dyslexia, Talking Back to OCD

Scripture to share... Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us

I Have Hope: Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window:

Cloudy and cool, like fall. Thoughts of fall and winter make me so happy.

Two days ago we had a tornado warning, stemming partly from an actual tornado sighting in a neighboring town, albeit only a 30-mile-an-hour one. Having no basement here, I put the kids in the hallway with pillows for 45 minutes while I continued to check our PC computer for updates and peek outside. It missed us, but since then there's been a worsening of Mary's anxiety. Her anxiety started with the first tornado warning of spring, and I have to admit it's discouraging to have a setback now. Cold weather can't come soon enough for me this year; thunder and lightning will cease, and the bees will hibernate and with them some of Paul's anxiety too.

On my mind:

We got off track with the anxiety-therapy appointments due to the tree-climbing accident, and I'm eager to get back to them in another week. I've met with the psychologist twice now, and so far we've accomplished intake appointments for the two boys, and a fear hierarchy appointment for Peter. The next appointment will include a fear hierarchy for Paul, and an intact appointment for Mary, followed by the first therapy appointment for all three children, which will entail 40 minutes of therapy each, back to back.

Peter has responded best to my attempts at home therapy using OCD books, such as Talking Back to OCD. Mary and Paul have more resistant cases of anxiety and definitely need professional help. Paul doesn't always recognize which thoughts are real and which are OCD-related, and his vomit phobia (emetophobia) is fairly problematic. Mary claims challenging her fears with logic doesn't help because the fear is too powerful.

For my part, I'm exhausted and overwhelmed with their issues and Mary's problematic sleep, so yesterday I went for help of my own so I could continue to help them and take them to their appointments without being overwhelmed by my own anxiety and workload.

I don't meet the criteria for depression (they asked several questions to ascertain this), but the doctor indicated that feeling overwhelmed can be a symptom of depression. I mostly fit the criteria for anxiety, so she prescribed Celexa, which is an antidepressant noted for combating anxiety pretty well. However, it made me extremely nauseous and very anxious. (And I didn't sleep a wink because of the anxiousness, so insomnia was a problem too.) The first common side effect is nausea, as opposed to Prozac, which has abnormal dreams as the first common side effect, with nausea being far down the list. As a busy mother who must be able to drive four children to appointments and homeschool them, nausea for even two weeks as my body adjusts just isn't going to work. I called and requested they call in some Prozac for me instead, explaining my situation.

My doctor also prescribed the Topamax again for migraines, but this time a 50 mg dose rather than 3 months of the 25 mg dose. I decided not to take that again tonight, but to hold off until I find an antidepressant that works. Trying to adjust to two medications at once isn't wise because I won't know what side effect is from which medicine.

I have come to the conclusion that I need a therapist too, but that there just isn't time right now or anyone to watch the kids while I go. I have thought back to the time last February when I got that terribly upsetting email from my mother after she had been drinking. A few days after that I decided it was time to break ties with her. Her upsetting emails after drinking had been going on too many years and affecting my life too much. Following that decision I was sad and depressed for about two months, and both boys reacted to that--Peter with behavior problems and Paul with depression and sadness (he tends to take on the weight of other people's problems). And although Mary claims now she never noticed me being sad, she may have reacted to the stress caused by Peter's behavior issues, which, along with the mid-spring tornado warning, sent her into an anxiety tailspin that is still going on.

I still have had no contact with my mother and don't plan to, but I have more anger than I did before. I see the effects her drinking and denial had on my life and my siblings' lives, and it makes me angry, which isn't healthy. Since I got married and started a family, her behavior never affected just me, but my family as well--my innocent children particularly. Surely deep down she knew that if she upset me, it would affect my family as well?

Still, I understand the sin curse and all that it entails, so being angry is fruitless. I would benefit from help to get through the stages of grief over my upbringing, and the lack of support system I experience now due to my upbringing. I realize what I'm feeling is just the stages of grief, after having denied the seriousness of her problem for so many years, and its impact on my life.

While counseling would be good, I'm sure the Lord will get me through this fine as well, it just may take longer and require the antidepressant, since it also coincides with perimenopause and upheaval in my kiddos.

I realize too that it's hard for readers to have a peek into so personal a struggle, but one thing it does do is help people realize that we all have difficult paths, for whatever reason. I am not alone...you are not alone. We all struggle, and the Lord is there for each of us...intimately available to us in our sorrow.

I have hope. I believe the kids will get better. I believe I will get better. I know this season of life will seem like just a glitch some day. I know somehow the Lord will use it for his glory, and I pray with hope that He will both save and take care of my mom and extended family in ways only He could.

The reason for my hope is the Lord.

Psalm 38:15 LORD, I wait for you; you will answer, Lord my God.

My Blessings:

~ God's love and mercy

~ A qualified psychologist

~ hope

~ modern medicine 

~ that Beth is not anxious

~ the hope of more cold weather soon

~ comfort soups and breads soon

~ colorful leafs coming

~ the hope of routine soon

~ the curriculum we need on the shelves

~ that with heaven comes our perfect bodies and minds

~ support from online friends

Thank you for your prayers and for your friendship! Both have meant so much to me since starting this blog back in 2009. You have encouraged my heart so many times! Writing helps me so much so I am going to make a better effort to write at least 3 times a week, despite the craziness around here.

Simple Woman's Daybook 7/13

Outside my window:

It's cloudy and ugly with rain and a morning thundershower expected any minute, hence I'm home from church with my storm-phobia 7-year-old daughter, who is watching a Wild Kratt's library DVD to get her mind off the "dark skies".

Wild Kratt's library DVDs mesmerize my kids. That show came out after we got rid of cable but one of you actually told me about it. I think Teri from PA? A couple years later the DVDs appeared at our library and my kids have been hooked ever since. You would smile if you heard them all sing that theme song together, to which they've learned every word. Once, when we were all in the emergency room for an ailing Paul, the staff put Wild Kratts on the ceiling TV, and my kids proceeded to sing their hearts out without shame, and none too softly either.

It was our plan to force Mary to church, because a forecasted thunderstorm doesn't mean we actually get them. Much emotional energy on the parents' part is required to force the issue, and we've had that energy several times, but not this morning and not usually for church. It would mean drawing attention to ourselves as she cried or possibly screamed going into the building, depending on how menacing the skies looked. And of course, there was that time she did throw up at church because of panic over the rain and thunder/lightning.

And the excitement doesn't end there. Peter has had two instances of heat exhaustion because we recently increased his Prozac for OCD from 10 mg to 20 mg, which decreased his body's ability to sweat to cool off, but improved his OCD. Antihistamines will also decrease the body's ability to sweat, and without Peter's allergy medicine he gets asthma so the two medicines together are a problem (at this higher Prozac dose), at least in the summer humidity.

So last night he threw up after being at the park, but he's fine today. He drinks enough; it's about the sweating to cool off. It just doesn't happen like it should. This week we may go back to the doctor and have it decreased down to 10 mg for the duration of the summer, or rely on water mist bottles to cool him off. Low doses don't usually work for OCD, but for Peter they do, thank goodness. The usual dose for OCD in teens is 10 to 80 mg. It's lower when Prozac is used for depression.

Each time someone throws up Paul's OCD goes crazy because his comes with a vomit phobia; he does rituals to prevent a vomiting incident. He watches his sugar and his fat and does other things to prevent the possibility, drawing from all his knowledge about the various causes of vomiting. There are 3 causes of vomit phobia, one being OCD, another being agoraphobia, and the other being associated with social phobia. Go here if your child excessively fears vomiting.

Yes, I live in an insane asylum. Thus, no energy today to force Mary to church.

I am thinking

...how very grateful I am for having joined an OCD online support group. Through the group I have found the boys a very good psychologist working out of Cleveland, over an hour away, who takes our insurance through a hospital program. He is excellent and specializes in Scrupulosity, which is a subset of OCD dealing with a distortion of religious and/or moral views. He is Jewish, and when a therapist has different spiritual views than the patient, they are trained to bring in the patient's Pastor or other faith "expert" to help the patient experience complete comfort with all aspects of the therapy.

This therapist uses Cognitive Behavior Therapy and Exposure Response Prevention therapy, which are the only therapies proven to beat OCD. There is no cure, but these therapies are the closet thing there is to being free.

Exposure Response Prevention therapy, or ERP, is exposing the patient to his or her worst fears, through graduated exposures, until the patient has habituated the mind to the thoughts or fears, so they become mere background noise to be ignored. Mindfulness training is included, so the patient can allow thoughts to come and go, not reacting to them. It is the reaction to the fearful thoughts that is the problem, not the thoughts themselves.

This is the same therapy (CBT and ERP) that is used for most anxiety disorders, and the same therapy Mary will need for her storm phobia, and for agoraphobia if it turns out she has that.

It is boot camp for sure and things will get worse for the boys (and consequently for us) before they get better, but being free is worth the sacrifice, to be sure. The boys will need every once of spiritual and mental strength they've got to persevere and succeed. They start in August and I have an initial meeting with the therapist at the end of July. It is not unusual for therapy to last up to a year but it depends on the patient. It is usually once a week.

If you or your children or a member of your extended family has OCD, please visit this support group. Many people do not know about ERP because not all therapists are trained in it. Some people suffer for years unnecessarily. There may be a period of denial and/or fear over the treatment because it's a scary concept to be exposed to your fears, especially for those with anxiety disorders, but be patient and have your relative lurk around the support group. I think eventually they will gather the courage to say, "I want to be well."

Another problem is that OCD can be horribly embarrassing because sufferers sometimes spend hours on their rituals. Many people keep it a secret for years. My son Paul has contamination OCD and spends 20 minutes brushing his teeth. That's mild compared to some of the behaviors one encounters, including compulsive checking, compulsive asking for reassurance, compulsive cleaning and arranging and counting, compulsive religious rituals or distorted religious beliefs, irrationals fears of harming others (Peter also has this type), irrational fears of being gay or being a child molester, etc. OCD people are the last individuals to do any of the things they imagine or fear. OCD attacks what is most dear to a person and is a horrible thing to suffer.

If you know someone who needs help and who has severe OCD, here is a list of intensive treatment centers in the United States (and a couple in the UK).

I am grateful for...

~ Peter's corn is finally growing, though not as high as the local farmers' yet. We have quite a few corn farms around us.

~ We had more sun this week and Mary was mostly happy, until the evenings and until this morning. The clouds tended to get organized just as it was time for me to make dinner. But still, these last 5 days there was a big improvement and she went in the van twice voluntarily with only some tears.

~ the tiny toad Peter brought back from the park. He gave it to Mary this morning and that was the only thing that coaxed Mary out of bed at all. I loved Peter so powerfully at that moment.

~ that Sheila, our Compassion child from Uganda, was able to get roofing and housing repair supplies. She is such a dear girl and writes her own letters in English, at age 15.

~ lo and behold, we saw a small fawn in the neighbor's yard two days ago. That's never happened before. It got lost apparently, having come into the neighborhood from the surrounding woods. Paul tried to get a picture for the library photo contest but I'm not sure the focus is good enough. It was sure thrilling though.

~ that God holds us together in the palm of his hands, and that his mercies are new everyday.

~ That at long last, my boys will get the help they need. Our pediatrician was not helpful in knowing what therapy is needed for OCD. It took me finding the right connections and I thank the Lord to have finally found them.

Have a good week, friends!

Simple Woman's Daybook 6/17

Outside my window...

On this partly sunny day, the children are having a picnic lunch on the front lawn...PB&J, peeled and sliced Jonagold apples, iced Country Time Lemonade. I would be sitting here, my heart all a glow as I listen to their funny sibling banter from the playroom window, except...

...Except that I just finished cleaning up a huge mess, over which I really felt like crying. Am I the only one who would cry over fixing four large cups of iced Country Time Lemonade on a tray for a lawn picnic, only to spill it everywhere, all over the floor and cabinets and floor boards, because I tried to open the door with one hand while carrying the tray with the other? And I was so anticipating their smiles, on this hot, humid day! After this disaster, I had just enough lemonade on hand to give each child only half a cup. Yes, I did overfill with ice to hide this fact.

I'm getting over it now, anyhow, even though sugary lemonade ranks up there for disastrous messes, along with chocolate milk. Writing always helps. :)

I am thinking...

...that my children can be loud when they play and I wonder if the neighbors smile at the wonder and magic of childhood when they hear my gang's childish schemes and games and sometimes arguments, or if they roll their adult eyes and wonder when quiet will invade this corner of the neighborhood.

I am also thinking what a jack-of-all-trades a mother is. Our van has been failing to start at times and our mechanic had it over a 3-day period a month ago and started it 40 times successfully, so he couldn't troubleshoot it. With dread over the cost we thought it was a slowly failing fuel pump, because it would turn over but not start, only this would be intermittent, as I said, characteristic of a failing pump. It was oh so inconvenient for the kids and me, as we went to appointments and errands, as you can imagine. I prayed about not getting stuck in a parking garage at the Children's Hospital for hours, but we had to keep running it out of necessity.

Finally, the van issue began to worsen Mary's anxiety; she hasn't wanted to leave the house at all. Thunder isn't all I've been dealing with. Other little things began to bother her too, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder began to look like a real possibility, which runs in my family and which Peter has, but his improved after age 10 when he began his med for OCD. There was no way I was going to put Mary, at age 7, on anything, so I began in earnest last night to study 2003 Ford Windstars via the Internet and try to find the answer to the problem. Ford Windstars have a lot of issues so they get a lot of Internet press.

Mothers do that. They get to the bottom of things, by golly. Whatever the kids truly need, we try to deliver. Not just discipline and kisses and vegetables and books...but everything in our power. I think because there's plenty that isn't in our power, we want to do our best with what is.

So, last night found me learning about the Ford Windstar. I learned typical stuff that will make some of you smile, if you have dads who bothered to teach you a few things. Such as, that to start a car you need a fire, of sorts. Fire requires three things: air, fuel, and spark. I really didn't think it was the fuel pump because our personal mechanic arrived at the pediatrician's office yesterday where we were "stranded" and started the van for me with a trick, and he noticed the fuel pumping through a line as it should. It wasn't a blown fuse either. He was stumped as to what the problem was, but at least he got me out of that fix, while Mary cried in the back seat. It was a hot day.

Now, if something creates an air vacuum in your vehicle's system then the fire necessary to start your engine won't happen. As I read about the things that could create a vacuum, I thought about the gas cap that has been somewhat faulty for a few months, which we've been too preoccupied to replace (we can be dumb that way). Then I searched for whether a loose gas cap could make a car fail to start. Half of the mechanically-inclined people answering said no and half said yes, because it can create a vacuum. Next I read that when your gas tank is empty or nearly empty, it creates more of a vacuum, and BINGO, it dawned on me that the last few times the van has done this the needle was not on empty but near it. I rarely put more than $20 in the van's tank at a time, so there you go.

Of course we are replacing the gas cap tonight and asking our mechanic's opinion about whether this might be the only problem (he's extremely honest and rooting for our family). Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of the issue and Mary will build some trust in her parents, building upon her trust in God...and our mechanic. She trusted the mechanic all along, but not us, when it came to car issues. Smart girl.

The battle against fear is her's, not mine, but she should know that when Mommy takes her for a ride in the van, Mommy, as the adult, will have some control over how long the trip will be.

I am thankful...

~ for the two lovely-spirited little girls here

~ for summer lawn picnics and sprinklers on hot, humid days

~ that Mary is all smiles today

~ summer breezes

~ a nice mechanic who is willing to rescue us (and works for himself)

~ children excited about the garden they planted

~ Peter's and Paul's diligence in learning how to make and plant their own seed potatoes (don't know if this climate will work, but it's an experiment)

~ loving husband

~ Peter growing into such a nice big brother for his siblings

~ Beth making great strides in speech (I see a day coming soon when speech will not be necessary for any of them. We are taking the summer off with the therapist's blessing.)

~ No more physical therapy sessions for Beth for her three arthritic joints. The methotrexate and naproxen are working to keep her functioning very well. The plan is to withdraw the naproxen first, as soon as she goes a whole year without any flares or swelling, which hasn't happened yet, by a long shot. Once that occurs and no problems arise from the absence of naproxen, they will then try pulling the methotrexate. A long process ahead of us, in other words. She has a stubborn case of arthritis.

I am wearing...

...long jean skirt, pink tee, heeled clogs

I am reading...

Lois Lenski's Strawberry Girl, a 1946 Newbery Medal Winner. While this is a fourth- to fifth-grade book, the content is mature, as you will see from the review below. As I choose summer reading novels for the boys, I find it's hard to look at Lexiles and reading levels because if you rule out books that are below grade level, you miss out on some memorable books that children may not have had the maturity to grasp earlier--when they matched their grade. This book is heart-wrenching for me, as an adult, to wade through! That's not to say it isn't good. It's excellent!

Synopsis/Review (Children's Literature): Birdie Boyer is Strawberry Girl in this delightfully classic tale of frontier life in Florida. As newcomers the Boyers' so-called uppity ways clash with the Slaters, their fence-hating, land-squatting, free-cattle-ranging neighbors. Birdie helps her Ma and Pa battle the Florida sun, drought, and sandy soil as they attempt to put in strawberry plants and tend to their orange trees. Problems abound and tempers flare as the Slaters and Boyers meet with trouble; fences are cut, hogs are killed, a mule is poisoned, and a raging fire is set. The Slaters are beset with tribulation due to the drinking, gambling, and irresponsibility of their husband and father. Mrs. Slater and her children find themselves indebted to the Boyers by a life-saving act of neighborly affection, which changes the heart of Mr. Slater. Lenski intersperses historical spice and appeal throughout her story, while illustrating the hardships and trials of life on the frontier in early twentieth century Florida. (orig. 1945), Harper Trophy/HarperCollins Publishers, Ages 10 to 18. 

I'm reading trade books to the girls as well, including Betsy, Tacy and Tib by Maud Lovelace. We're still reading 1 Corinthians in the mornings for devotions. It's not an easy book to explain to children, but we're learning a lot and I'm very appreciative as always for my Life Application Bible.

I am hoping...

...I spoke to my father for Father's Day and learned a little more about his father. He died at 54 years old from cancer due to working in a coal mine all his life. And he drank, which I knew, but I didn't know any details. My father downplayed the drinking, saying his father didn't drink that much, in typical denial fashion. My own father, like me, hates alcohol and doesn't want anything to do with it. My mother had begun to drink before they divorced, when I was 3. When I think about each of my father's many brothers and sisters, I see the consequences of their father's drinking. Many siblings either married someone who drank, drank themselves, or married someone who was dysfunctional--even in the cases where there are second marriages. (My father is on his fifth marriage). It doesn't take daily drinking to make drinking a dysfunctional parental activity. It only takes covering up for the drinker to bring on the dysfunction, or denying that the drinking exists and makes the family different. Everyone takes on a role in the drinking family, and the roles continue as the children all leave home and marry. Tragic.

If only we wouldn't live in denial and shame. If only we wouldn't assume that polite people don't talk about that. If only it didn't have to be a secret, we could learn how to undo the patterns, and it wouldn't insidiously poison each new generation.

I may be breaking my mother's heart in not having any contact with her until she goes to rehab and is no longer in denial, but I must do it. I must say No! to any more of this dysfunction in my life and in the lives of my children, for I can raise them the way I was raised, secondhand, if I don't know where I'm going wrong and where my thinking is faulty. I am only just now realizing the subtle ways that my thinking has been faulty, even though I've never been a drinker, I'm not married to a drinker, and I don't have any friends who drink.

For me it's about the patterns of behavior that were established and my lack of understanding about them, due to denial for so many years (thinking that my mother was a "problem drinker", not an alcoholic). There isn't much difference between the two, in terms of the way the children are raised.

Just this week I had to stop taking the calls of one of my "friends" who I began to recognize as a manipulator. Why couldn't I see it before? I knew she had problems and I was trying to do my best for her while still putting my family first, but why couldn't I see that she was manipulating me, and that I cannot minister to or be a friend to someone who is manipulating me?

I see things differently now that I have put (probably) permanent distance between my mother, step-father and myself. It wasn't obvious right away, but the more I stay strong, the more I see the damage caused by my upbringing. And I see how much the Lord protected me! It could have been far worse. The more layers I peel away, the more new anger I experience. I thought I had forgiven, but there's still more to forgive. I have to keep my heart clear of bitterness so as the layers peel, I need to keep the forgiveness flowing, while still not making contact with them.

It all stems from the sin curse, but beyond that, it comes from this word...denial. Oh, Lord. Help us to live in truth. Search our hearts. Make known to us our iniquities and may we live side by side with you, in truth.

Scripture to Share...

1 Thessalonians 5:18
Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Simple Woman's Daybook 6/9

Outside my window...

We've had a rainy couple of days. Yesterday I worked the church nursery, during which it rained and thundered so hard they had to send a very frighened Mary to me. I was too busy to do much for her, except to put her in a rocking chair and give her a few hugs and kisses. If you have children who suffer from anxiety, you know there is little you can do for them, other than pray and hold them. They can't be reasoned with or talked out of it; the anxiety comes from a brain glitch.

After twenty minutes, she threw up. Yes, indeedy. She's done that before from the stress of a thunderstorm. As soon as she said her stomach hurt, I knew to have a bucket close by her. Our church meets in an elementary school and she managed to get nothing on her clothes or on any school property--not even the carpet. That's not to say I wasn't pretty busy wiping it out of the recycling container and sink with disinfectant wipes. Luckily we had only one baby, and four toddlers who were on the other side of the room.

I fear one of my nursery partners, who knows me less than some others, wondered if I'd brought my sick daughter to church. Mary keeps her fingers in her ears the whole time she's worried about thunderstorms. If that's not a hint of fear, I don't know what is.

Severe thunderstorms are forecast in the next couple of days. Not fun.

I am thinking...

I am thinking about L.M. Montgomery, who wrote the Anne of Green Gables series, which is quite an extensive series. I finished another one of the novels last night--Rainbow Valley. There are two remaining in the series. A few weeks ago I read Montgomery's biography, and since then I can't help feeling a little melancholy about the books. It's as though Lucy Maud Montgomery writes the story she wishes had been her own.

As I wrote before, she didn't marry for love so much as because in her time it was almost an obligation to marry. She was in her mid-thirties when she married her husband, a minister. He was mentally ill and she spent many years caring for him. I don't know if she knew about his mental stability when she married him, but probably not. His condition probably worsened as he grew older. They had two sons; a third son died in infancy.

It is very hard to watch the giddy happiness of those around you, when you have an excruciatingly hard life yourself. In one of the Anne books there's a young women who must care for a mentally-ill husband while living next door to Anne, who is newly, and very happily married to Gilbert Blithe. The neighbor is a beautiful but bitter woman who feels that life is like a prison sentence. In this storybook case, there's a miraculous twist and the woman is released from her fate, but such was not the case in Lucy Montgomery's real life.

The books are wonderful, high-quality literature, full of wit, wisdom, and realism. I love them, and the heart of the woman who wrote them. But I can't read them without grieving for Lucy. I am grateful that she seemed to love the true, grace-ful God and saw fit to write books that were not about bitterness, but about love and courage and wit. Being a minister's wife, she was able to expose a lot of religious hypocrisy and subtly preach grace through her stories. Grace in human relations is a major theme throughout the series--with Anne being the main instrument of grace.

Not only was Lucy's husband a burden to her throughout their 31-year marriage, but her older son was a profound disappointment as well, impregnating and then marrying a women he later left, and then later getting fired from a law firm and ending up living in his parent's basement. He possibly inherited some mental instability, and Lucy either inherited some depression, or the sadness of her circumstances caused her to develop profound depression. Her family thinks she took her own life at age 67 via a drug overdose in 1942. A so-called suicide note was left at her bedside, but an extensive biography written by Dr. Mary Rubio of Lucy's life suggests a different interpretation--that the note was yet another scribble on a piece of paper that would later become a part of Lucy's personal journal.

Lucy Montgomery's doctor, Richard Lane, wrote in the death certificate: “coronary thrombosis” as a result of “arteriosclerosis and a very high degree of neurasthenia” (the last is a general, quasi-psychoanalytic term to describe a neurotic disorder characterized by chronic weakness and fatigue).

Lucy was addicted to prescription medications, but it isn't known if she was aware of this herself, or if she just took what her doctored ordered for depression.

I was making Beth's bed this morning and thinking of the long years we've used the same bed pillows. How sad that only a small amount of money separates us from new bed pillows, which an allergy family really needs! So many people spend far more than that on a restaurant meal regularly, and then there's us, wondering when we can get bed pillows.

As soon as my brain thought this, it went to Lucy Maud Montgomery's life and her depression. If she thought of all the people in her husband's church whose children turned out better than hers, or all the husbands who were better off mentally than hers was, she probably did drive herself into a depression. If she thought of all the women who had happier lives than hers, she probably drove herself crazy--drove herself to prescription medicines.

Whatever our circumstances, the worst poison is to play the comparison game. It causes us to lose our perspective, our gratitude, our love and goodwill toward others. It causes us to lose our awe over our salvation and God's faithfulness.

Lucy had no support system. No mother of her own she could remember. No father who invested in her life. She was largely on her own, and she needed the grace and love of fellow Christians to be her family. Instead, as a minister's wife, she was most likely held to an impossibly high standard that she could never live up to--and one her husband and two children could never live up to.

Her writing was her only solace, her one joy, outside of any relationship she may have had with God. I don't know yet of that God relationship, as I can't find any information of that vein. But her writing screams of the need for grace in human relations, so I want to think that she understood something about the grace of God.

Writing is often my saving grace here at home, so I feel a kinship with this woman, but I don't subscribe to self-pity. Self-pity is the beginning of the end, in my opinion. We mustn't go there, and when we feel ourselves edging towards it, like with the pillows this morning, we must turn 180 degrees and walk the other way, counting our blessings with each step. There can be no mistake about it--self-pity is sin.

I am thankful...

~ for new mercies each morning.
~ for the power of prayer and confession.
~ for sweet faces to kiss each morning, noon, and night.
~ for a good story as food for the soul.
~ for sound lessons in 1 Corinthians.
~ that God takes our imperfect efforts and blesses them.
~ that showers bring bright flowers.
~ for the blessing that is motherhood.
~ that the easy way is never the most beautiful way.

I am wearing...

long jean skirt, fushia fitted cotton tee, healed clogs

I am reading...

after a couple night's good sleep, I will start the next of the Anne series, Rilla of Ingleside, in which Anne's youngest child (she has 6) starts out as a 15 year old. The children and I continue in 1 Corinthians in the mornings, and I am reading Colossians.

I am hoping...

and praying that my children will be close friends always. They need each other.

Around the house...

The children did some decluttering, and I did some too, but there's more to pick up after the weekend, and then on to dusting and vacuuming and folding laundry. Good Monday to you all. May God bless you and keep you.

Scripture to share...

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

Simple Woman's Daybook 6/3

Outside my window...

It's beautiful. Truly. So green, so lush, so sunny and bright.

I am thinking...

At the church nursery Sunday I worked with a mom who will begin homeschooling her children next fall--all of whom have been public schooled up to now. She has one sister who homeschools, and three other sisters who are strongly against homeschooling because of the "socialization thing". Oh, my. This gets more irritating as the years go by.

At the thrift store recently my son Paul was confronted by an emboldened boy about 9 years old who questioned Paul mercilessly about what electronics we have around here. Do you have this game or that game? Do you have this hand-held thing or that one? You mean you don't even have this? Or that? Paul has no desire for these things because he's not bombarded with them for one, and because I've explained that they're addictive. He has heard an AWANA friend talk about playing computer games until late at night with his dad, so Paul believes me that these games are addictive. We've talked about how addiction can rob people of motivation and prevent them from setting and meeting important goals.

If school is completed, my kids are allowed 24 daily minutes of computer games Mon - Sat from CoolMathGames.com or PBS.com. That's it for electronics...our desktop PC with no software but World Book Encyclopedia.

So I was a bit surprised to find Paul somewhat frustrated and teary-eyed after the boy walked away. He explained that it wasn't about the games, but about the way the boy treated him because we didn't have them.

All I could think was, thank goodness we homeschool. My kids can be who they want to be without harassment. They can live smartly without being ridiculed for it. They can live in a state of personal peace, listening to the voices of God, of parents, of those who love them. Why is any other voice necessary at this stage of life? These are the discipling years. There are enough dissenting voices at church, at AWANA, and from neighbors to give them enough of a challenge. They wouldn't benefit from a challenge 30+ hours a week from peers.

When kids graduate from high school none of the social hierarchy matters anymore. Most of them based their identity on peer evaluations, and where did it leave them after graduation? Not knowing who they are, or what they stand for. (A minority could have been strengthened by the intense challenge, yes.)

Parents socialize their children, not peers. To be socialized is to be taught how to behave and react in a variety of situations, among people old and young, poor and rich, healthy and sick, functional and dysfunctional, educated and uneducated. All children and teens are trying to find their way and they can't help one another very much, but they can sure harm one another. They need an adult discipler, not an age-based peer group. Where else in life are there age-based peer groups?

The young man who killed six in Santa Barbara was mentally ill, but he was also distraught over being a 22-year-old virgin who didn't have a smooth way with women. He never fit in. All the shooters over the years failed to fit in. The money and privilege and sense of entitlement they suffered from was certainly part of the problem, but we can't discount how broken they were simply because they didn't fit in. God simply didn't create all of us to fit in. That isn't His system and I don't believe he wants us to create a system in our hearts or in our institutions whereby we force people to fit in. No wonder our institutions and our children are sick. The in-crowd is a bit like Hitler and his chosen people. God help us.

Children should grow up in a safe, loving environment. Daily concern over how they fit in is not safe, it's not loving, it's not healthy. Even the ones who do fit in, either because they have the right clothes, the right gadgets, the right interests, have to watch those who don't fit in suffer, and wonder if they themselves might ever fall out of grace. What if my dad ever loses his job and I lose my iPhone? Everyone who's anyone has an iPhone. What if I act too good or kind, or too smart or too conscientious? What if the teacher seems to be proud of me and the other kids sense it?

The goal becomes to be like the mainstream, not because you think the mainstream is smarter or better than you, but because to be different is risky. Some kids can handle it--and public school is a great option for them and their families--but far too many cannot.

Incidentally, if public school is the only option financially, I believe God's grace, through parents' prayers, will cover a multitude. God is faithful.

I have great respect for some local Christian public-schooled families, knowing they gave the decision lots of prayer and the Lord led them to it. And I don't have the energy for education soapboxes until I hear that homeschool is not a good option because of the "socialization issue". This is so far from the truth that anyone who utters it, especially in this current climate, embarrasses themselves, truly. I stay out of these discussions verbally, but oh, how they stir the fire in me.

Tim Challis wrote a wonderful 3-part series on homeschooling reminding the church that educational choice isn't an issue that should divide Christians. The text he uses is Romans 14 about the weak and strong brother and the holy days and the meat sacrificed to idols. His is a public-schooled family, and when he penned the article in 2011, he was increasingly seeing Christians exit the public schools so that the majority in many churches were homeschooling families.

Around here, that is far from true. Only in the last 9-12 months have homeschool families come to our church. We've been in the vast minority in our area for the 7 years we've homeschooled. Apparently, this is not true for some parts of the country.

I read all three parts of Tim's article and there were many nuggets of wisdom. And the comments section was...well, memorable. Here is a nugget of his wisdom that relates to what I'm trying to relay here:

The man who enrolls his children in public schools without counting the cost and without carefully shepherding them along the way is not weak or strong—he is stupid. The person who homeschools his children because he thinks that the 4 walls of his home will protect them from sin and worldliness is not weak or strong—he is foolish.

Our original decision to homeschool was based on a respected study indicating that 93 % of homeschooled Christians kept their faith after high school, as opposed to less than 30% of public-schooled Christians. That really spoke to us 7 years ago, but now it isn't the primary reason. Many hidden beauties of homeschooling having to do with home being where the heart is, now shine brighter. These reasons can't be explained, only felt.

I do not think and would not tell someone that homeschooling is a primary way to ensure the salvation of children. First of all, nothing can assure that, except the Holy Spirit himself. While homeschooling is helpful because of the time available, it's far less important than the father of the home being the spiritual leader. Research supports that point--that fathers make the most impact.

My advice to any parent is to know why you feel the way you do, and pray much. Be able to give a reason for your hope, either way.


I am thankful...

~ for the sweet, wonderful taste of the strawberries this year. So divine and perfect.

~ for the joy of serving dinner to guests.

~ for the privilege of being a mom.

~ a long letter from Sheila from Uganda.

~ In the warm months, blogs can get as little as a quarter of the regular traffic. So if you've actually read this far down, I'm thankful for that, friend. :)

~ the simple joy in a child's heart over park visits.

~ ground turkey--even lean ground turkey--is cheap, and there are never-ending ways of preparing it. There, I said it.

~ that I've relaxed enough as a teacher and mother to allow my learners to be what God created them to be, rather than what an arbitrary system says they should be.

~ that to my five year old there is nothing better than a cuddle in Momma's arms with a story.

~ for the power of story.

~ for the glorious old movies, for all their depth, charm, and for the way they stick with you and make you smile during the day, long after the reel stopped.

~ for my husband, who will stay up with me to watch old movies like "An Affair to Remember", and like it as much as me.

In the kitchen...

Am I the only one having trouble cooking with joy in the humidity? We do have central air, so saying this makes me a spoiled brat. Our outdoor grill has issues so I am praying for inspiration. I must cook 7 nights a week, grill or no grill.

~ taco bar, fresh grapes, strawberry shortcake

~ steamed veggies, ground turkey macaroni (brown ground turkey with spices and mix with some tomato sauce. Combine cooked noodles with meat mixture. Heat milk and some flour until thickened, turn off burner, add some grated cheese, mix until melted and smooth, combine with meat/pasta mixture. Add some grated cheese on top and bake for 20 minutes. Kid-friendly and easy. Leave a comment if you want the complete recipe.)

~ chili, cornbread, fresh fruit

~ garlic cheddar chicken, brown rice, spring mix steamed veggies

~ bowtie pasta with turkey sausage sauce, salad

~ crockpot chicken enchiladas, black beans, brown rice, thawed berry mix with vanilla ice cream

~ homemade whole wheat pancakes, fresh fruit, turkey bacon

I am wearing...

Liz Claiborne rayon thrifted skirt in navy and tan with navy tee

I am creating...

a God-centered home, I hope. Daily human capacity is not always equal to daily human goals. But God's grace fills the gap for the Christian. Praise God.

I am going...

Monday five of six dental cleanings were finished up. Tuesday we drive 30 minutes one way to give Rudy the beagle back to his foster mom. Sniff. Sniff. I finally narrowed it down to fear aggression as his main issue, after talking to a resource person the rescue operation referred me to. It's the most unpredictable type of aggression, and thus the most dangerous.

Wednesday is Beth's rheumatology check-up. Friday is a library visit. Next week we have only a speech therapy appointment and that's it. Now you have a little insight as to why we school year round. Appointments definitely tend to get in the way.

The boys and my husband and a neighbor boy have a fishing derby this Saturday morning.

I am wondering...

...what novel to have Peter read next. He's been done with Sonlight for several weeks and reading what I hand him next. He's currently reading Carry On, Mr. Bowditch, a 1956 Newbery Medal Winner by Jean Lee Latham.

Synopsis: Readers today are still fascinated by “Nat,” an eighteenth-century nautical wonder and mathematical wizard. Nathaniel Bowditch grew up in a sailor’s world—Salem in the early days, when tall-masted ships from foreign ports crowded the wharves. But Nat didn’t promise to have the makings of a sailor; he was too physically small. Nat may have been slight of build, but no one guessed that he had the persistence and determination to master sea navigation in the days when men sailed only by “log, lead, and lookout.” Nat’s long hours of study and observation, collected in his famous work, The American Practical Navigator (also known as the “Sailors’ Bible”), stunned the sailing community and made him a New England hero.

I am reading...

Still reading 1 Corinthians with the children in the mornings. Started Carry On, Mr. Bowditch but I'm not too far yet. My husband is reading The Hobbit to the boys every night after the girls go the bed.

I am hoping...

(and praying) that each child will court someone here in our home or in their beloved's home, and never consider dating.

Around the house...

clean because Sunday was Bible study and a dinner party.

Scripture to Share...

Hebrews 4:16 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Simple Woman's Daybook 5/28

 

 

Outside my window...

 

We had a gorgeous last five days. Now, it is humid, cloudy, with more rain expected shortly. The large farm next to our housing complex planted all their corn over the weekend, so the rain is welcome. It's been dry for a week. Our garden went in too this weekend. In northeast Ohio you plant on Memorial Day weekend, which is your best bet to avoid a frost.

I am thinking...

I just finished a biography on Corrie ten Boom tonight. I am thinking about all the evil in the world, and how just when you think it can't get any worse, you hear of another horror. I have not read a lot about German concentration camps, but enough to know that some of the worst evil in all humanity occurred in them. Hitler was all about championing the strong, and Christ is all about championing the weak and the humble...the least of these. What a contrast.

For 33 years after leaving her last German concentration camp, Corrie traveled around the world, speaking about God and forgiveness. Her sister Betsy was with her in two concentration camps, and she died in the second one. Her last words were..."We must tell them there is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper."

Every time Corrie thought she might settle down and stop speaking and writing, her sister's words came back to her, inspiring her to continue. Betsy was the stronger Christian, able to forgive even the Germans who treated her like a dog. Corrie had no intention of forgiving them, until Betsy's words, and the Holy Spirit's power, gave her the divine power to forgive.

Sometimes having a son who struggles makes me feel like there will never be relief from the stress...that life will always be hard, and bittersweet. The Lord could have spared Corrie and Betsy. Their brother, nephew, and another sister were released from prison very early, and never went to concentration camps. Their father died 10 days into his prison sentence for hiding Jews, so he never saw a concentration camp either. The Lord spared them all, but not Corrie and Betsy. He had amazing plans for these two spinster sisters, and the plans were not pretty. They were horrendous, in fact.

But in the end, all that mattered was that God was glorified.

In our everyday lives, it's so easy to forget that it isn't about us, but about the Lord's glory. We waste so much time feeling sorry for ourselves, wishing that things were better for us, instead of concentrating on being obedient servants. I write so often on this blog, enough to make your eyes roll, that we are bought and paid for...slaves to Christ. The Lord can allow concentration camps in our lives, or any other manner of horror, and it still behooves us to remain obedient.

"We must tell them there is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper."

I am thankful...

~ for a relaxing Memorial Day weekend.
~ that the sweetest little girls call me Mommy.
~ that I get to be a Mom. I get to!
~ for being the wife of one obedient Christian man, whom I love.
~ for having a happy family, not withstanding our disorders.
~ for the Word of God...its power to transform, to encourage, to cleanse, to strengthen.
~ for Paul's self-discipline and strength.
~ for Peter's passion and hard work, trying to fulfill his dreams.
~ for Compassion children to love, pray for, and write to.

 

In the kitchen...

 

~ ground turkey haystack dinner (recipe coming soon), salad

 

~ burrito pie, brown rice, salad

 

~ crockpot whole chicken, corn, baked potatoes

 

~ spaghetti

 

~ meatloaf, brown rice, steamed veggies

 

~ baked beans, corn on the cob, salad, strawberrry shortcake, smores, and lastly, brats, cooked on an open fire, which my husband bought and I wouldn't be caught dead eating. He has specific requests for holidays meals, but otherwise I don't let him choose our menu, reminding myself that I'm supposed to "guide the house" and that means my family's health. I have transformed my formerly nutritionally-challenged husband, who as a long-time bachelor ate the fattiest meat and drank whole milk by the gallons (all the while staying lean, somehow).

 

~ french toast, fresh fruit, cafe potatoes

 

I am wearing...

 

flowered brown and pink rayon skirt, pink top, slippers, since it's almost midnight. It's 2-shower-a-day humidity time, and will be for a while. But I love crawling into bed feeling clean every night, and starting my day feeling clean. Corrie ten Boom went 11 months without a bath or being able to brush her teeth. I feel very, very spoiled, but the fact is, the humidity is my enemy (headachey, thirst I can't seem to quench. Even chocolate doesn't appeal as much during humidity).

 

I am creating...

 

books in my mind, which may or may not ever be written down or published. Too much laundry and dishes to get in the way.

 

I am going...

 

I got my first pap smear in three and a half years out of the way today, and got a script for Topamax for migraines, and one for my first mammogram. Yes, 48 is a little late for a baseline mammogram, but I nursed my last child until age 47. I hope I don't have any cancer lurking anywhere, and I confess I wish all the results were already in, with normal written all over them. The longer it's been since your last doctor visit, the more weight the results carry.

 

I am wondering...

 

how a friend is doing tonight, who is under a great deal of stress.

 

I am reading...

 

Just finished the ten Boom biography, and tomorrow will start Seven Daughters and Seven Sons by Barbara Cohen, which is a read aloud from the Sonlight curriculum. My husband does the read alouds with the boys, so I don't usually list them here, but sometimes I read them by myself. This one promises to be riveting.

 

 

Synopis:

In an ancient Arab nation, one woman dares to be different .Buran cannot -- Buran will not-sit quietly at home and wait to be married to the man her father chooses. Determined to use her skills and earn a fortune, she instead disguises herself as a boy and travels by camel caravan to a distant city. There, she maintains her masculine disguise and establishes a successful business. The city's crown prince comes often to her shop, and soon Buran finds herself falling in love. But if she reveals to Mahmud that she is a woman, she will lose everything she has worked for.

A retelling of a traditional Arabic tale in which a young woman disguises herself as a man and opens up a shop in a distant city in order to help her impoverished family.

Also reading...We are done with James and are 4 chapters into 1 Corinthians in our morning devotional time.

I am hoping...

for good test results, and for a peaceful return of our dog, Rudy, to the foster dog home that runs a dog-rescue operation. He has snapped at the children about five times since we got him 2.5 months ago (not biting, but lunging forward to scare the kids). I don't have the money to hire a trainer to train out the aggression. He has food aggression, toy aggression, and space aggression. 97% of the time he is a very sweet boy, but when children are involved, that's not a high enough percentage. The kids can be too impulsive with him, getting too close to his face, and not remembeing to leave him alone when he's napping. I can't count on 100% obedience from the kids--they forget too easily when it's been a long time since the dog last snapped. We love the dog and are heartbroken about it, and Peter gives me no peace about it, but we have to think of the horrible scars and nerve damage that a possible bite could cause. Rescue dogs can have issues, and a family without younger kids is the best, I think, for many of them.

We won't try again for some time, as the dog never did help with Peter's issues. I am aiming for three years from now, when Peter is 15 and my youngest is 8, unless God brings the perfect situation sooner. We didn't want a puppy because of all the basic training they need, but maybe a puppy from a family we know would be the safest bet.

Around the house...

I put away a whole lot of clutter today, and tomorrow I will dust and vacuum and catch up on the laundry I didn't do on Memorial Day.

Scripture to share...

Romans 8:38-39 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 

Simple Woman's Daybook 5/20

Outside my window:

We've had two beautiful days of sunshine and my Mary, afraid of spring storms, blossomed and danced her way across the lush, green lawn, in search of toads and frogs and butterflies. Her joy palpable and beautiful, she ran up and kissed me, "I just couldn't be happier, Mommy. I love, love, love the sunshine and the grass and the blue skies!"

Well, today the enchanted, god-inspired spell is broken. We're to have rain, dark skies, strong thunder and possible tornado warnings. Northeast Ohio gets a lot of tornado warnings, but rarely an actual tornado. Sometimes I'd like to slap the meteorologists for their cautionary tales.

I am thinking...

We are still sick here and I'm feeling frustrated by it all. I've had to cancel a number of routine appointments that filled the calendar.

The child I took to the ER last Friday with a 103.2 fever is still sick and running a very low-grade fever (under 100 degrees F). I'm considering whether he has a sinus infection, but I'm also remembering that 90% of these infections are viral. Is this one of the 10% that might be bacterial? Should I call the pediatrician? If I do, we'll likely pick up another virus from the office, and sinus infections do take time to heal, after all; ten days of misery is not uncommon, even with a viral sinus infection. I wouldn't even consider taking him if there wasn't a possibility of it spreading to the brain. Additionally, he can't tell me definitively that he feels any better. I will pray about it for a couple hours and then decide.

I hate to say it, but men and boys tend to whine their way through illnesses, and that can cloud the seriousness of the situation. If my boys, when grown men, whine their way through illnesses, are their wives going to blame me? What have I done to encourage this whining? Have I treated them differently than my girls? It doesn't seem so.

I am thankful...

~ for four beautiful children to love and nurture.

~ for a stable, loving husband.

~ for good books to draw me away from present trials.

~ for my Peter's joy in his greenhouse, amid the soil, seeds, and miracles of God.

~ for Mary's joy in the sunshine and the wonders of spring.

~ for AWANA breaking for the rest of the spring and summer, giving us more options for our Sunday evenings.

~ for Peter receiving an important award, the Timothy Award, for learning 426 verses in three years (four Truth and Training books). He's learned more than that all told, but this represents his 4th, 5th, and 6th grade years. If he ever chose a Bible college, this award could translate into some scholarship money. We are very proud of him and yes, I did get teary eyed as he accepted this award, the years of hard work and some frustrated tears, flashing before my eyes as he walked up there. Oh, how I wanted to quit the whole thing many times, but God never let me. We took a break in his third grade year, but otherwise we plugged away year after year, since his kindergarten year. My Paul will earn it as well in two years, and my girls after him. This is one trial worth our perseverance as parents...giving children a solid foundation in the Word of God, so that nuggets of wisdom and truth will always be available to them, in whatever situation they find themselves. 2 Timothy 3:16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness. 

~ for a letter in the mail about husband's state employee's retirement contributions, and whether he wants them rolled over to an IRA, or refunded in lump sum with tax penalty. He didn't have enough credit years to collect a retirement. I don't know what he'll decide, but I have heard his two years of earnest prayer for a decent, reliable used car to drive to work. His current car is 25 years old and eating up repair money.

~ for the Holy Spirit's assistance in helping me grow old with grace. It is so hard, this growing old. My husband, eight years older than me, feels it less, telling me this is part of the sin curse: that we lose any looks we had, shrivel slowly, and die. It is God's will, he asserts, so all we can do is accept it. But it wasn't God's will in the beginning, and I look forward to being free from a shriveled body in eternity. I had my turn, and now it is my children's turn to be young, beautiful, and full of vitality. No one worried about whether I wore a hat in sunny southern CA while growing up, but I am very careful that my children wear one always while in the sun. Every precaution helps.

My hair is collecting more white tresses, and the skin under my eyes droops considerably, which is partly inherited. More sleep will help and I will endeavor to change my ways, reading my novels at a slower pace, so as to ensure proper sleep.

In the kitchen...

taco casserole with corn, salad, and thawed berries
chicken enchiladas, plain brown rice, salad
baked potato soup, salad
pizza (on AWANA award night)
pumpkin pancakes, turkey bacon, fresh strawberries
grilled chicken, steamed veggies, plain brown rice
hamburger casserole, steamed veggies (this is a new recipe...I'll let you know if it's good)

I am wearing...

long jean skirt, powder blue crocheted spring sweater, nylons for warmth, and leather clog shoes. I wear a heeled clog for errands, and a flatter clog for around the house (this 5 ' 3'' inch girl likes the heels).

Who cares what I wear, anyway? But I guess these questions give the feel that you're here for a cup of tea, and would therefore see what I'm wearing?

I am creating...

a legacy through my mothering, I hope. The kids will tell you in fifteen years what I'm creating.

I am going...

after canceling two dental cleaning appointments, I'm making the appointment today since Beth is healthy, and I fear they won't want us as patients if I cancel again, though Peter feels rotten and doesn't want to go. I did cancel his part of the appointment.

I am also dropping off Goodwill items near the dentist's office. Otherwise, we're staying home and watching a Veggie Tales movie about handling our fears. Mary is likely to need the reminder as she deals with another 3 days (forecasted, anyway) of thunder storms.

We do our school reading and a little math too when we're sick, unless the whining gets to be more than I can handle, in which case I try to dig up all the old movies we have on hand. We watched "The Shop Around the Corner" with Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan the other day. It was delightful and very old, though more enjoyed by husband and me than the kids.

I am wondering...

I think I covered this above, about the pediatrician.

I am reading...

I finished book 2, 3, half of 4 (not as interesting, this book 4), 5, and 6 of the Anne Of Green Gables series. Yes, that was a lot of late nights of reading, but the kids being sick also helped me get a little reading in during the day, too. There are three more in the series, but they won't be easy to find. My own set only goes to book 6. The books are different than the movies and I highly recommend them. They combined ideas from a few books and added additional story lines to the movies, making them quite a bit different than the books.

Anne is my best friend these days. She also deals with the aging process in book 6...how it can hurt at times, along with the children growing up so quickly before our eyes, though in her case, she still has her looks at nearly forty at the end of that book. I didn't look too bad at 40 either.

The 9th book in the Anne series was delivered to the publisher shortly before Montgomery died, entitled The Blithes are Quoted. Comprised of 15 short stories and many previously published poems credited to Anne and her son Walter, it goes 20 years beyond the other books, one part before World War 1, and another section after World War 1.

Montgomery's Bio below, as I understand it from various sources:

Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874 - 1942) lived a sad, lonely life, raised by stern, unforgiving grandparents. Her mother died of TB when Lucy was 18 months old, and her father gave up custody of her to her grandparents. When Lucy was 7, her father moved away from Prince Edward Island and she only visited him, living with him once for a short time after he remarried (it was an unhappy marriage and it stressed Lucy).

Lucy went to school and became a teacher on Prince Edward Island, Canada, her birthplace. After several suitors who were more interested in her than she in them, Lucy eventually becoming disillusioned with romance, she married "later" in life to a minister who suffered from mental illness. She married after her literary success was already established and she had a good income of her own, feeling that marriage was an obligation at that time in Canada. They had 3 sons; the second was stillborn. Montgomery spent many years caring for her mentally-ill husband, and her writings were her only escape. She wrote 20 novels, 500 short stories and poems, and her popularity was immediate. Knowing her fame, she edited her private journals and rewrote them, presenting her life in her own terms. She suffered from depression, and I wonder if she wanted to soften that fact somehow, when she edited and recopied her personal journals.

I will, some day, read her published journals. Her author page at Amazon is here. I will also be obtaining her Emily series for my girls and me, which appears to be comprised of three books.

I am hoping...

that my children will love the Lord all the days of their life, drawing strength from Him and reading their Bibles and praying as though their lives depended upon it.

I am looking forward to...

all of us being well again.

I am learning... 

that however much I want to be a good this or that, my hormones limit what I can be as a wife and mother. If you've not yet reached perimenopause, you won't understand this as much, though while you were pregnant you likely felt a little of the intense ebb and flow of estrogen. This life we live must be one of grace, given and accepted. We cannot do much to recommend ourselves, but God's grace covers our iniquity, and it is only through him that we build a life of meaning.

Around the house...

the usual look (I hope) of a house suffering from illness. A nightmare, no less. Laundry, dishes and cooking are getting done, but little else, I'm ashamed to say, even though I've only been ill for two days.

Scripture to share...

Ephesians 4:7 But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.
 

Simple Woman's Daybook 5/13

 

Outside my window...

Finally, it looks like spring. The leaves, unfolded and proud, gift us with a beautiful green canopy everywhere. Flowering trees hint at the beauty of Paradise. The grasses, splendid in brilliant green, provide a feast for the senses. Birds are nesting and singing everywhere, reminding us of His provision and glory.

I am thinking...

Of the expression "when it rains it pours", for a couple reasons.

Spring storms for the northeast Ohio area began in earnest last night with several tornado and flash flood warnings. Seven-year-old Mary, still terribly afraid of thunder and tornadoes, worried herself into a frenzy and threw up at 9:30 PM. Prayer and songs didn't help enough. She made it into the bathroom in time but instead of choosing the toilet, she chose the sink. (At least it's not the bedding or carpet nowadays, for all but the five year old.)

The brunt of the storm hit our area after the kids fell asleep, with high winds, torrential rain, fallen tree limbs, and plentiful thunder and lightening. I kept the radio on low while I read a novel to get my mind off of it. The nearest tornado warning came as close as the next township over.

When it rains it pours....we woke to a major plumbing problem this morning, what with pipes leaking inside the walls and soaking the hall carpet. Again. I was supposed to see a doctor this AM for my migraines, but I had to cancel due to the water emergency. The best we could do was pull up the carpet and shut off the water after our showers, and arrange for my cousin to come tonight.

I am thankful...

~ that no tornado formed.

~ that my cousin will charge far less than a commercial plumber.

~ that Beth requires fewer speech articulation corrections. She slips up when she's tired, but we're seeing progress in her conversation now.

~ for all the wonderful books we've read this year.

~ that Peter walked down the hall last week, carrying a book and declaring that he "loves devouring words and books". I kissed his cheek and smiled to myself, knowing that he chose the strong verb devouring precisely because he's so well read. Book language in means book language out and that excites me!

~ that I get to watch the babies in the nursery slowly grow up. One of our "newborns" is walking!

~ that despite my nervous personality and the irritation that probably causes my family, they still love me with a beautiful grace.

~ for my husband and our nearly fifteen years together. If I only had two words to describe him as a husband and father, I would choose longsuffering and faithful.

In my kitchen...

It's currently clean and there are pans of water on the counters to help us get through the day without water. On the menu:

~ black bean chili and corn bread, with fresh strawberry shortcake for dessert

~ ground turkey tacos, brown rice, corn, and a thawed berry mix

~ garlic cheddar chicken, brown rice, green beans

~ cheesy egg omelets, cafe potatoes, fresh fruit and toast

~ meatloaf, brown rice, spring mix steamed veggies

~ baked ziti, garlic bread, salad

~ grilled chicken, baked potatoes, steamed broccoli, carrots, cauliflower

I am wearing...

a brown cotton broomstick skirt and pink fitted tee, and wedge sandals I bought in Mexico on a weekend mission trip years ago (we were three hours from the Mexican border when we lived in CA).

I am creating...

I wish I could say I've learned enough about knitting or quilting to have something to list here, but it turns out that reading is my very favorite thing, and every time I consider whether to knit or read, a novel or biography always wins out. I thought I wanted to learn to knit, but it was one of those empty dreams that didn't fit for me. It was someone else's dream that I was temporarily trying on, I guess.

My son Paul, though, is knitting quite a bit now. He's very creative with his hands. Mary is slowly learning but the outdoors call her with a song she can't resist, like I can't resist my books. Peter is called by his gardening--his flowers and plants and dirt.

I am going...

to speech class tomorrow, for Paul's ear cleaning appt (wax) on Thursday, and to the dentist on Friday for my husband and me. I haven't been to the dentist in about 2.5 years, so it may not be good news, but there haven't been any problems.

I am wondering...

if Mother's Day will always be so depressing. For all those who've had to put distance between themselves and their mother, this day can be a downer. We can't change our mother's choices, but we can learn from them and keep our own nuclear-family dysfunction to a bare minimum so that our own children will grow up liking Mother's Day. If finding a Mother's Day card that matches their sentiment for us isn't a nightmare for them, it probably means we did okay.

I am reading...

I just finished Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery, and Little Lord Fauntleroy by Frances Hodgson Burnett. If I can find book 3 of the Anne series, I will start that tonight. I know it's in our shelves somewhere. We watched Anne of Green Gables as a family movie last Friday, and it gave me the urge to read the whole series. Don't ask me why I love children's literature so much. A well-written, well-told story that's good for the soul is what I love best. Anne's nature inspires us to worship God through his creations, and to live in love, grace, and obedience.

I wonder...would Ann think I'm a kindred spirit, or not? My 5-year-old daughter Beth lives in a dream world, so she's definitely an Anne-with-an-e girl. She's always making up things in her mind and pulling us into them, telling us what her new name is (often it's Bella), and what we're to say and do for our parts. She makes me smile and pinch myself so often. Is this enchanting, thoroughly-loving child really mine...born from my 42-year-old womb to bestow blessing on my middle-age years? God is good.

 

I am hoping...

to be able to bathe my kids tonight. My cousin isn't coming until after 7 so no water until late tonight. I'm trying to keep them in so they won't get sweaty, but I don't know how long I'll hold out. They come in so dirty every evening from April thru November.

Around the house...

We've vacuumed and swept and wiped down the bathrooms, but there are hanging clothes to put away in closets, and pajamas and towels in a basket to fold and put away this afternoon. We are listening to Sarah, Plain and Tall, an audiobook, while we fold together.

Scripture to share...

In our morning devotions we are reading James. Here is a favorite:

James 1:5-8 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.

There are so many jewels in James that it's hard to find just one. My children and I are learning a lot as we discuss this book, especially the parts about the tongue and about not favoring the rich or having prejudices, and about how God gifts the poor with special faith.

A picture to share...

a brother-sister knitting lesson
(our camera is breaking, obviously)