Well, as we welcome in 2012 and say goodbye to 2011, it seems the thing to do is make resolutions... right? Ok, humor me... *Why?!??* I don't know about you, but *I* have *never* kept a New Year resolution for more than a few months at best... so why resolve something that we know is probably unrealistic? This year, I resolve to not resolve anything. Oh wait, that's a contradiction isn't it?
OK, so instead of RESOLVING to do or not to do, I am going to set achievable goals... goals that mean something to me, rather than what everyone seems to resolve every year and never actually accomplishes, or they accomplish and then go right back to their old ways... So yeah, I could stand to lose 10 or 20 pounds - but you know what? While I am striving to be more and more healthy (and yes, I've even cut the sugar in my tea and coffee in less than half *and* I've learned to actually like it that way!), I am not going to set a weight loss goal. Wouldn't I like to be thinner? Of course - that would be a given... but let's be realistic - I have given birth to EIGHT children, the youngest birth included my first ever C-Section (no, I can't blame the surgery - my stomach muscles were far from rough, tough, and tone... I have NEVER had a 6-pack, and seriously folks, I never (ever, ever, ever) will! I lack the drive, the desire, the TIME, or the discipline. Besides, my husband doesn't like skinny - he calls skinny women "swizzel sticks" and the brief time that I was truly (really, really) skinny (and oh so sick, which was how I got there in the first place!) he did not really care for my appearance. Now, I am exceedingly blessed with a husband who adores me - who loves me and appreciates my appearance (though I gotta tell ya, I've seen me first thing in the morning, and I just don't see what he likes so much about it... tousled hair, sleepy eyes, those wrinkles of aging seem so much more pronounced (ack!) Nah, I do NOT understand it, but I'm glad he feels that way even if I wonder about his sanity some days! He loves me - skinny or fat - but preferably at a comfortable HEALTHY weight just over skinny - you might call it "pleasingly plump" (though truly, I'm not so sure those words are as complimentary as they were once considered.
You might wish that my second goal, or non-resolution, would be to stop rabbit trailing so buggering much! Sorry, I know me, and that is just not realistic... it may seem that I am scatter brained, but really, I'm just super-multi-tasking. No, really.
So, first, I set the goal to be healthier in diet, though we tend to be pretty healthy already... but I could make some improvements in that area... the second goal is to take time to do more purposeful exercise.
There, I made the requisite selfish determinations.
Now, what REALLY matters? What non-resolution goals can I set that aren't all about me? Isn't that going to make a bigger difference in... well... everything around me? The world does not revolve around me, my family doesn't revolve around me, and I shouldn't revolve around me either. So, what are some truly worthy goals to set that are feasible and practical and helpful to the world around me?
Hmmm...
Well, as a large family, our ecological footprint should in theory be pretty big, right? Well, I took a class on Environmental Biology earlier this year before I **finally** finished my college degree and graduated (yeah!!!!!) and I really learned some good, practical information. We already use the energy saver light bulbs and have mostly energy star approved appliances (and honestly, those that aren't won't be replaced until they die, because we simply can not afford to go out and buy new ones... but when the necessity kicks in, we do buy energy star. Well, we could use less water... water that gets otherwise wasted... we could use less gas - that's not difficult... we're a ways away from town as it is, so I try to consolidate our trips as much as possible - if we have something scheduled, I try to plan errands around that scheduled event so we're not in town just for random stuff. The savings in gas money is a great incentive - but so is the savings in non-necessary spending!! Another saver is in electricity - yes, I already mentioned the energy saver stuff, but out here, with the big open sky, we are in a great place for solar energy. We put a small solar-powered light in the barn, and that's been helpful, but we hope to put larger solar panels on the chicken shed and the garage to power the minimal electricity that we use there (actually, with our sometimes sub-zero temps, the chicken shed uses a lot more power when we turn on a heat lamp to keep those little egg layers unfrozen and productive - and keeping our own chickens helps reduce our footprint, too!!).
We can buy less and recycle more. Out here, there is only one place that accepts plastic recycling - WalMart. Well, we have not shopped in a WalMart or Sam's Club in over 8 years - I look forward to making that 10 and 18 and 50... not going back there. For a variety of reasons, most of them political and moral. However, we do take our plastic recyclables there to drop off. I do need to do better about recycling cardboard and paper - we do this for the most part, but I can do better, so that's a goal for this year. Our eco-footprint, obtained from a neat online tool says that our family footprint is currently 2.5, and that to sustain our current lifestyle, we would need to own 10 acres. Convenient, that's just how much we have! Still, I look forward to reducing our footprint yet more with upcoming goals!
This past year, after settling in to our home and new life here, we added chickens, horses, and pigs to our "spread" - a friend calls it a mini-farm, and I love that title, but I'm just not sure we have *arrived* there... yet... This year we have 9 chickens - we bought 10, all were supposed to be girls... alas, one got trampled as a chick by the other chicks, and Duchess (one of the chicks) turned out to be a Duke instead... so we have 8 layers and one rooster. I've heard again and again how annoying roosters can be, so you can call me crazy if you like, but I happen to like the sound of our rooster's incessant crowing. Granted, it helps that the chicken shed is enclosed, and unless we have the shed door open, the sound is minimized. The chicks have a window that lets in natural light, and they seem happy - I've been told to prepare for them to stop laying, or seriously slow down in their laying, but we get an average of 7 eggs a day from our 8 layers, so it hasn't happened yet... we'll see when it does. IN the meanwhile, we have plans to enlarge our brood to double size - maybe up to 20 layers in all, we'll see - by summer. There is enough need for "farm fresh" eggs that I can sell what we don't need or use, which will also pay for the feed for all of the chickens - we already have the space and laying boxes, so now we just need the chicks!
We also raised two pigs this year, which made a delicious addition to our freezer and supper table. However, a few of my husband's co-workers and a couple of my friends asked if we would have any pigs to sell at butchering time. We didn't this year, but we will (Lord willing!) this coming year and in years to come. The pigs started out as 4-H projects for two of the girls, who quickly lost interest, and so the pigs became my project. It will remain my project, and as a means to help supplement our family income (primarily in paying for the expense of raising our own meat animals). I am also hoping to raise a couple of cows. Now realistically, I'm not sure if we'll be able to afford that this year or not - hopefully we can, but if we can't, then the profit from this coming year's pigs will finance the following year's cows. We buy the pigs as 50 pound wiggly weiners from one of the Hutterite colonies nearby, and I spoke with their dairy barn guy who said they sell the male dairy calves as either bottle fed or newly weaned calves. Obviously bottle fed are a LOT cheaper, because they haven't put as much work into them, so that's what we hope to buy - the bottle fed.
So, raising our own meat and egg-laying chickens (with enough extra to sell) not only makes for healthier living for our family, it reduces our family eco-footprint, and it helps with our income/ budget!
Now, outside of those things, it is my goal to involve my children (and obviously myself) in more community service. ACTIVE service. For years we have coordinated food drives, clothing drives, Christmas drives, donation drives for various causes... local pregnancy centers, pro-life organizations, inter-denominational groups that help encourage and support former addicts, church organizations that work to meet specific needs (like the church we attended just before leaving Texas, where our church became home to dozens of families displaced by Hurricane Katrina). However, with the exception of the church that became a shelter, most of these things have stopped at being drives to collect and distribute to their intended destinations. We need to purpose to VOLUNTEER OUR TIME as well. Most places limit volunteer helpers to a minimum age, which excludes most of my family - however, nursing homes are full of wonderful people who need loving attention, too, and our elderly in America are often unappeciated as the gems that they truly are. Other areas that accept "mini helpers" (tots and such) are also in need of people to give of their time and attention, not just *things* and money - so we purpose this year to find at least one of these places to dedicate some time, at regular intervals, to go and BE THERE and encourage and help as needed... I haven't figured out specifically and exactly what just yet, but there are a few possibilities that I'm exploring. The safety of our children is a huge factor in making this decision, and is the primary tricky spot to picking one or two. However, that doesn't take away from the need or our ability to reach out in this way.
There will probably be more... but this is where I am on non-resolution goals so far this year... and, my family is waiting for me, so I need to stop rabbit trailing and chattering anyway.
Have a happy New Year, and I'd love to hear what your goals for the coming year include! Inspire and challenge me to do more, to try new ideas, whatever - I'd love to hear what you are doing to make our world a better place in the new year!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
Trying something...
IF this works, you can see pictures of the quilts I made for the kids and my husband for Christmas... here goes... :)
This is Abigail's - she picked out the fabrics long ago, and they went into my fabric stash containers as we prepared for a move... four moves and five years ago. A little belated, but she was very happy to get it!
This is Rachel's quilt - I haven't tried this design before, and it's actually upside down in this picture - which I noticed *after* uploading it (and it's on her bed now, too, so it is what it is *grin*)
This is Sarah's quilt - she loves, loves, loves bright and happy colors - for some reason this makes me think of a starburst... even though starburst doesn't have blue in it. Ah well. Her squeals of joy made my heart sing. :)
This is Andrew's quilt. He is my John Deere tractor man... He loves tractors almost more than he loves trains, cars, and planes all put together (and that's saying a LOT if you know Andrew!)
This is Rebecca's quilt - it's hard to see in the picture, but the fabrics (pink, green, and yellow backgrounds) all have white butterflies on them - she LOOOOVES butterflies!
This is Benjamin's quilt- like big brother Andrew, he LOVES tractors... any and all "mighty machines", really - he was giddy over this quilt and I was treated to many smooshy kisses and Ben-Ben giggles!
This is Hannah's quilt... I'm not sure why, but the colors appear so much darker than reality in this picture... however, the colors are not pastels... I learned long ago that pastel colored quilts for little ones usually get ruined by stains - the solution? Darker colors! Preserves the color integrity and lets the quilt last so much longer :)
Finally, this is my husband's quilt... I made one with the same fabrics for his sister and her new husband after they were married, and he really loved the quilt... it's been several years since I made theirs, and I finally got around to finishing one for my beloved - this one is bigger than the large throw-blanket size that I made for the newlyweds, it easily fits on our queen sized bed with a bit extra on all sides. He was very pleased with it, and honestly, so am I! I haven't attempted that much hand sewing on any quilt before, but I love the result!
Here is a closer-up of the hand sewing... burgundy thread (burgundy is his favorite color) sewn around hand drawn hearts - you can't see it in the pictures, but I also stitched our first names in the upper left hand solid/ cream colored corner.
Now, I'm not sure why this landed on the bottom here, because it was the first one I clicked to load, and my husband's quilt it the last one I clicked to load... but this is Natasha's quilt... she's entered the age where she's still a little girl at heart, but she is growing up... and so I wanted to make her quilt a bit more grown up, too... the solid white squares (well, they aren't really - but it appears that way in the picture - in reality there is a tiny white on white floral/ vine print there) has lavender thread hand-sewn hearts. I guess I captured the little girl becoming a young woman well enough for her, because she loves the quilt and I got some very sweet teeny-bopper kisses and thank yous from her - I couldn't ask for a better response!
So, that's Christmas day three... (oh, and my very thoughtful husband - who knows I prefer practical things over frivolous things almost every single time - gifted me with the uberly wonderful gift of a smoker! Now when we butcher the animals we raise for meat, I can smoke them! Yeah!!!! and for the record, home-raised, home-butchered, home-cured, *and* home-smoked ham is THE BEST I have ever had... something about that hickory smoke flavor... Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..... :) Thank you, honey!)
This is Abigail's - she picked out the fabrics long ago, and they went into my fabric stash containers as we prepared for a move... four moves and five years ago. A little belated, but she was very happy to get it!
What *is* Christmas?
When you think of Christmas, what do you think of?
Is it Christmas presents, Santa Claus, parties, candy, and big fancy meals?
What does Christmas look like when you envision it? Do you see extravagant shopping trips and outrageous credit card bills for months to follow? Do you see fancy parties to which new outfits simply must be purchased in order to attend *and* have a good time?
What happened to Christmas? When did commercialism throw up all over Jesus' birthday?
Ok, I hope I didn't offend you, but really... when do we turn a birthday celebration - the celebration of someone who loves us more than life itself (quite literally) - turn into a celebration of self, me, me, me, me, and more, more, more, and gimmes? Ah, well, only at Christmas... we don't turn our children's birthdays into self-indulgent shopping sprees, do we? So why do we with our Lord's birthday?
With that said, it sounds like maybe we don't "do" Christmas - but we do. However, it's so important to keep the **meaning** of CHRISTmas *in* Christmas... Christ - our Lord, who came to this earth to live a breathing example of how we are to live, to overcome sin, to overcome death... to give His life as a living example, and to live through his death, his crucifixion, so that we might overcome death someday as well...
Where does Santa come in to that picture?
No, we don't teach our children to believe in Santa Claus... call us ogres if you like, we can take it! But Santa isn't real. There, I said it. It's true. The *premise* of Santa, based upon the life and story of Saint Nicholas *is* real, and he loved and worshipped our Lord and Savior - he gave to the needy, he helped the poor, he reached out to those in need... in the name and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. He didn't wear a red stocking cap with a white dingle ball on the end, he didn't come in all of his glory, ho-ho-ho-ing all the way there and back again... he came quietly, he came with discretion, he came in humility. He came bearing the gift of love as well as the meeting of real needs of real people.
Some people who dearly, truly love the Lord do not celebrate Christmas at all because it has become such a commercialized and sad business. You know, I can understand where they are coming from. We don't take that same stand, but I understand why they do... Some people who dearly and truly love the Lord go allll out and invite Santa into their homes and traditions, they go all out and have those extra credit card bills for months (or years) to come as a result... I don't understand this, but I don't have to - it's their homes and their families, and their decision. Do I agree with it? No. BUT I don't have to - it's not my place. But when it comes to MY family, it is my place... well, rephrase - it is my husband's and my place...
Our family belief is that it's ok to give gifts... we do party favors for birthdays, so we can do a few things for Christmas as well... but it needs to be in moderation, and it needs to not be the **focus** of the day - of the holiday (taken from the original "Holy Day")
So, how do we *do* Christmas? It starts at Thanksgiving... actually, it starts before that, but the celebratory days, the "decorated" days start on Thanksgiving evening. No, we don't have presents every day, but we like to make those days special.
Thanksgiving evening we put up our simply decorated tree and string a few lights and rustic garlands. We like simple - it suits us. I'm not saying a thing against those who prefer fancier decorations - it's all preference. :)
There are some wonderful books written to help keep the focus on Christmas and Easter (Lent). These are written by Arnold Ytreeide - they are written to be read a section each night for a specified number of days leading up to Christmas (and honestly, they make for a great family-reading at the supper table after the evening meal, if you would like to try it!). The titles for Advent/ Christmas are Bartholomew's Passage, Tabitha's Travels, and Jotham's Journey. I encourage you to pick one of them for your next Advent season to read with/ to your family and make that a part of your evening tradition.
Before Thanksgiving, we prepare for our holiday celebration by participating in Operation Christmas Child - this is a ministry through Samaritan's Purse - it's too late to do shoeboxes for this year, but it's not too late to give... they take donations through the year, and Samaritan's Purse ministers to flood/ storm victims as needed, they minister to Americans and those in other countries as they see need and are led of the Lord. Their website is http://www.samaritanspurse.org/
After Thanksgiving we turn our attention to organizations more local to us - our local pregnancy center, rescue mission, and sometimes rehab centers/ recovery centers. A few years ago we spent a day singing at a hospice - quietly singing through the hallways as a special way to minister to families spending their last days together before ushering a loved family member into eternity. Whatever you do, please take time to do something, no matter how small or how extravagant, to minister to those who are hurting over the holiday season. It doesn't have to be *stuff*, it can be as simple as your time... one of the absolutely most valuable gifts you can give. So many hurting people out there, so many needs... so many lonely individuals... if it's spending 5 minutes listening to an elderly man or woman at the grocery store (yes, a total stranger) and giving them an encouraging smile or a hug before parting or caroling at a nursing home, or serving meals at your local shelter, or organizing a clothing, food, or gift drive for those in need... do something, I challenge you, to make this season special to someone outside of your own family - immediate or extended.
Gifts - yes, we do exchange gifts for Christmas... it has been our tradition to do the "7 days of Christmas" leading up to Christmas - we do a name exchange for the family, so each person has the name of one other person in our home to give a gift to, we have a gift from my husband's parents (usually they send us a check to buy a gift in their stead, which is usually a membership to someplace for the family... in years past it's usually been the zoo - there isn't a zoo where we live now, but here we have a children's museum, which we are all excited about!) then there are 5 days of gifts from Daddy and Mama. This year I made each of the kids and my husband bed quilts. It's a lot colder up here in the north than it was when we were stationed in the south! Texas and Alabama are considerably warmer and more humid than the Northwest!! (we love it here, for the record). I haven't tried uploading pictures to my blog yet, so I'll try... no guarantees... but I started working on their quilts in January - but that's 9 quilts, so I needed a good bit of time to get them done! It came down to a crunch on time there at the end, and there were several nights where I worked until 2 or 3 in the morning, sewing - one night/ morning until 5... but no matter what time *I* go to bed, my children are early risers, and I need to be up early too - so the uber-late nights were limited. I'm not as young as I once was, after all, and all nighters just don't work for me so much anymore! Yeah, showing my age... I like naps, too, though they are rare... When I'm old old, and my children are all grown and have children and perhaps grandchildren, if I am still alive, I plan to take a nap EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Ha. It just sounds loverly, doesn't it?
Anyway, yes, we exchange gifts, but we keep things simple... we don't do electronic toys (personal preference for both my husband and myself) and we don't spend a tremendous amount of money (we don't have it to spend anyway - but I think that's probably a good thing... yeah, you can think I'm crazy, but I'm glad we aren't *rich* in money or wordly things... we are, however, rich in those things of eternal value, and I am so very thankful for that!!)
Christmas day this year, we were so excited to have land on a Sunday! Even more so because Daddy/ my husband was home for Christmas, so we could attend as a family, rather than having him gone. (the military doesn't care if it's a holiday, someone still has to defend and protect our country... after all, Terrorists do not only attack during business hours, Monday through Friday.)
Now, I have heard many people complaining this year about churches holding church services on Sunday morning... and how wrong it is... and how it interferes with their family traditions and Christmas celebration. This I just do not understand... HOW is going to the Lord's house on Christmas Day taking *away* from Christmas? If you are celebrating someone's birthday, do you not look forward to going to their house to celebrate *that person*?? Isn't Christmas when we celebrate the birth of our Lord?? So isn't it a great gift to be able to attend church services on that very special day? I think it is - you're welcome to disagree with me, but I'm going to look at you strange if you do! I'll still love you, but I will think you are strange.
Christmas... what is it? What is it REALLY? It is a celebration of our Lord - it is a time of giving... not just to our very own loved ones, but to those in the world alongside of us... to those in need, to those who are lonely, to those who need an extra measure of love and attention during a typically busy season where so often loneliness and poverty are more deeply felt by those struggling through.
So, what will YOU do *next* Christmas to make a difference to those around you? This is my challenge to you - think ahead, PURPOSE to do something to make a difference, to expand your own little world. If you already do something, I challenge you to add something more. Involve the family, the children, and make it a family tradition. I guarantee it will become one of the more memorable and favorite parts of your holiday traditions!
Is it Christmas presents, Santa Claus, parties, candy, and big fancy meals?
What does Christmas look like when you envision it? Do you see extravagant shopping trips and outrageous credit card bills for months to follow? Do you see fancy parties to which new outfits simply must be purchased in order to attend *and* have a good time?
What happened to Christmas? When did commercialism throw up all over Jesus' birthday?
Ok, I hope I didn't offend you, but really... when do we turn a birthday celebration - the celebration of someone who loves us more than life itself (quite literally) - turn into a celebration of self, me, me, me, me, and more, more, more, and gimmes? Ah, well, only at Christmas... we don't turn our children's birthdays into self-indulgent shopping sprees, do we? So why do we with our Lord's birthday?
With that said, it sounds like maybe we don't "do" Christmas - but we do. However, it's so important to keep the **meaning** of CHRISTmas *in* Christmas... Christ - our Lord, who came to this earth to live a breathing example of how we are to live, to overcome sin, to overcome death... to give His life as a living example, and to live through his death, his crucifixion, so that we might overcome death someday as well...
Where does Santa come in to that picture?
No, we don't teach our children to believe in Santa Claus... call us ogres if you like, we can take it! But Santa isn't real. There, I said it. It's true. The *premise* of Santa, based upon the life and story of Saint Nicholas *is* real, and he loved and worshipped our Lord and Savior - he gave to the needy, he helped the poor, he reached out to those in need... in the name and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. He didn't wear a red stocking cap with a white dingle ball on the end, he didn't come in all of his glory, ho-ho-ho-ing all the way there and back again... he came quietly, he came with discretion, he came in humility. He came bearing the gift of love as well as the meeting of real needs of real people.
Some people who dearly, truly love the Lord do not celebrate Christmas at all because it has become such a commercialized and sad business. You know, I can understand where they are coming from. We don't take that same stand, but I understand why they do... Some people who dearly and truly love the Lord go allll out and invite Santa into their homes and traditions, they go all out and have those extra credit card bills for months (or years) to come as a result... I don't understand this, but I don't have to - it's their homes and their families, and their decision. Do I agree with it? No. BUT I don't have to - it's not my place. But when it comes to MY family, it is my place... well, rephrase - it is my husband's and my place...
Our family belief is that it's ok to give gifts... we do party favors for birthdays, so we can do a few things for Christmas as well... but it needs to be in moderation, and it needs to not be the **focus** of the day - of the holiday (taken from the original "Holy Day")
So, how do we *do* Christmas? It starts at Thanksgiving... actually, it starts before that, but the celebratory days, the "decorated" days start on Thanksgiving evening. No, we don't have presents every day, but we like to make those days special.
Thanksgiving evening we put up our simply decorated tree and string a few lights and rustic garlands. We like simple - it suits us. I'm not saying a thing against those who prefer fancier decorations - it's all preference. :)
There are some wonderful books written to help keep the focus on Christmas and Easter (Lent). These are written by Arnold Ytreeide - they are written to be read a section each night for a specified number of days leading up to Christmas (and honestly, they make for a great family-reading at the supper table after the evening meal, if you would like to try it!). The titles for Advent/ Christmas are Bartholomew's Passage, Tabitha's Travels, and Jotham's Journey. I encourage you to pick one of them for your next Advent season to read with/ to your family and make that a part of your evening tradition.
Before Thanksgiving, we prepare for our holiday celebration by participating in Operation Christmas Child - this is a ministry through Samaritan's Purse - it's too late to do shoeboxes for this year, but it's not too late to give... they take donations through the year, and Samaritan's Purse ministers to flood/ storm victims as needed, they minister to Americans and those in other countries as they see need and are led of the Lord. Their website is http://www.samaritanspurse.org/
After Thanksgiving we turn our attention to organizations more local to us - our local pregnancy center, rescue mission, and sometimes rehab centers/ recovery centers. A few years ago we spent a day singing at a hospice - quietly singing through the hallways as a special way to minister to families spending their last days together before ushering a loved family member into eternity. Whatever you do, please take time to do something, no matter how small or how extravagant, to minister to those who are hurting over the holiday season. It doesn't have to be *stuff*, it can be as simple as your time... one of the absolutely most valuable gifts you can give. So many hurting people out there, so many needs... so many lonely individuals... if it's spending 5 minutes listening to an elderly man or woman at the grocery store (yes, a total stranger) and giving them an encouraging smile or a hug before parting or caroling at a nursing home, or serving meals at your local shelter, or organizing a clothing, food, or gift drive for those in need... do something, I challenge you, to make this season special to someone outside of your own family - immediate or extended.
Gifts - yes, we do exchange gifts for Christmas... it has been our tradition to do the "7 days of Christmas" leading up to Christmas - we do a name exchange for the family, so each person has the name of one other person in our home to give a gift to, we have a gift from my husband's parents (usually they send us a check to buy a gift in their stead, which is usually a membership to someplace for the family... in years past it's usually been the zoo - there isn't a zoo where we live now, but here we have a children's museum, which we are all excited about!) then there are 5 days of gifts from Daddy and Mama. This year I made each of the kids and my husband bed quilts. It's a lot colder up here in the north than it was when we were stationed in the south! Texas and Alabama are considerably warmer and more humid than the Northwest!! (we love it here, for the record). I haven't tried uploading pictures to my blog yet, so I'll try... no guarantees... but I started working on their quilts in January - but that's 9 quilts, so I needed a good bit of time to get them done! It came down to a crunch on time there at the end, and there were several nights where I worked until 2 or 3 in the morning, sewing - one night/ morning until 5... but no matter what time *I* go to bed, my children are early risers, and I need to be up early too - so the uber-late nights were limited. I'm not as young as I once was, after all, and all nighters just don't work for me so much anymore! Yeah, showing my age... I like naps, too, though they are rare... When I'm old old, and my children are all grown and have children and perhaps grandchildren, if I am still alive, I plan to take a nap EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Ha. It just sounds loverly, doesn't it?
Anyway, yes, we exchange gifts, but we keep things simple... we don't do electronic toys (personal preference for both my husband and myself) and we don't spend a tremendous amount of money (we don't have it to spend anyway - but I think that's probably a good thing... yeah, you can think I'm crazy, but I'm glad we aren't *rich* in money or wordly things... we are, however, rich in those things of eternal value, and I am so very thankful for that!!)
Christmas day this year, we were so excited to have land on a Sunday! Even more so because Daddy/ my husband was home for Christmas, so we could attend as a family, rather than having him gone. (the military doesn't care if it's a holiday, someone still has to defend and protect our country... after all, Terrorists do not only attack during business hours, Monday through Friday.)
Now, I have heard many people complaining this year about churches holding church services on Sunday morning... and how wrong it is... and how it interferes with their family traditions and Christmas celebration. This I just do not understand... HOW is going to the Lord's house on Christmas Day taking *away* from Christmas? If you are celebrating someone's birthday, do you not look forward to going to their house to celebrate *that person*?? Isn't Christmas when we celebrate the birth of our Lord?? So isn't it a great gift to be able to attend church services on that very special day? I think it is - you're welcome to disagree with me, but I'm going to look at you strange if you do! I'll still love you, but I will think you are strange.
Christmas... what is it? What is it REALLY? It is a celebration of our Lord - it is a time of giving... not just to our very own loved ones, but to those in the world alongside of us... to those in need, to those who are lonely, to those who need an extra measure of love and attention during a typically busy season where so often loneliness and poverty are more deeply felt by those struggling through.
So, what will YOU do *next* Christmas to make a difference to those around you? This is my challenge to you - think ahead, PURPOSE to do something to make a difference, to expand your own little world. If you already do something, I challenge you to add something more. Involve the family, the children, and make it a family tradition. I guarantee it will become one of the more memorable and favorite parts of your holiday traditions!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Every prayer gets answered... really.
Every prayer gets answered…
Every time we pray, our prayers are answered… we might not be able to see it, we might not really and truly *feel* it, but we get answered each and every time… Sometimes we get what we want, and we hear “yes” – sometimes we hear what we do not want, and we hear “no” or “wait” or “just be patient”, except that we don’t really hear those answers, do we? Sometimes we ask God for healing for a body and the healing He gives is through earthly death that begins a new life in Heaven. Sometimes we beg him for the life of our unborn children, and His answer is “yes, heavenly life”.
I went through my 7th miscarriage two months ago. My 15th pregnancy. The baby had a heartbeat at our 8 week ultrasound and seemed to be growing well, things looked good, and though I am high risk and have gone through many losses, I began to hope that we would be blessed with another sweet baby in the months to come… I was excited about the growing belly I had to hold and to love the little life inside, I was excited about adding another place at our family table… but then one evening I started to bleed… just a bit… “oh, Lord, please protect my little one…” as the bleeding increased, I prayed “Lord, please, not again… not this one. Please, Lord.” My husband’s prayer was longer and more intelligible; all I could pray was “Please, Lord… not again.” I was eleven weeks, and starting to show, I loved that little one with a love unexplainable to those who have not experienced it – I do not have the words… By the next morning we went in for an ultrasound and our baby’s heartbeat was no longer. I felt my own heart shredding into many pieces and yet while the tears were there, I didn’t break down and cry just then. I knew that my baby was with the Lord… that helps a little…
SO many losses, so many sweet babies I’ve never been able to hold… and I prayed on the way home, “Lord, please, let me hold this one just for a moment… let me say goodbye, please…” and I waited. That day was hard, emotionally, waiting, knowing the inevitable was going to happen. My heart felt raw and heavy – even my sweet little ones could not bring a smile to my face. The children knew I had been pregnant, when I whispered the news to my husband weeks earlier, he excitedly blurt the news to our children “Do you want a baby brother or sister this time?” it took only a few seconds for his meaning to sink in and they were all screaming and cheering and excited – we went for ice cream to celebrate on the way home.
The first ultrasound was too early to really see anything, so we rescheduled. My youngest was not even a year yet, so I really wasn’t sure how far along I might be at that time. According to the ultrasound, it was about 5 weeks, give or take a little… three weeks later I was back on the ultrasound table, nervous, anxious… what a breath of relief to see that tiny heartbeat pumping away…. My little peanut, growing inside of me…
Weeks later, to lose that precious little life hurt so deeply. It surprised me to feel my water break, but I knew that was what happened… I had mild contractions through out the day, then a mildly painful bursting, and I knew… I ran for the bathroom and when I got there, my little one was out. So very, very tiny… with arms and legs so very tiny – just starting to distinguish themselves from the body that weeks before had looked like a peanut, a tadpole… dark eyes and a mouth, still closed over with a thin transparent layer of skin… and I could see the heart, not beating through the tiny somewhat transparent body. I am so thankful that the Lord allowed me that, and yet it was so very painful… I cried hard and long, feeling my heart shattering with the loss of such a tiny life…
Always before, when I have lost a baby, we have lived in an apartment or on military base housing. Most of those babies were too small to see when they passed out of me. Both of my second trimester losses had to be dealt with medically because things did not progress normally and there was risk of hemorrhage, so I never saw those babies. This was a gift to be allowed to see and hold my tiny one, born far too soon, and gone before birth. To be able to say goodbye, to say it to someone I could see and touch. And yet it was also heartbreakingly painful. This time, we have our own home, our own land... and so we were able to do something to commemorate the life of our little one. I bought a pretty, hinged earring box and lined it with soft material - we placed our baby inside and we buried our little one in our yard, and we planted a tree right over that spot. We chose a Norway Maple to be "Baby's tree". Our little one was not developed enough yet to distinguish if we had a son or daughter, and it felt strange to me to name our genderless baby - no name seemed to really fit. (I'm not speaking against those who choose to name their deceased unborn or still born children - it is a beautiful thing if you have a name that fits and is meaningful to you - we just couldn't find a name that felt... right. So we call our little one "Baby", and that is Baby's tree - planted right where I walk by it twice or more each day, when I go to the garden or to the chicken shed.
It is my conviction, my deeply held belief that life begins at conception. Every life is precious – life is sacred, given by God. He knows the number of our days before we are ever conceived. As David writes, God knows us before we are even knit in our mother’s womb… God knew my babies before they were conceived, and He has allowed some to be born to my arms, and He has allowed some to be born straight into heaven. Why? I don’t know. But I am so very thankful that I don’t have to know why or understand it all for it to be true… and I know that God’s love surpasses even that of a mother’s love. For that I am grateful.
Long ago the Lord convicted me that my fertility is to be under His control, not mine. I, who had a plan – I wanted to have two or three children and would go on to become a teacher at my children’s school… I had plans, I had dreams, I had it allll figured out. Right.
God also had a plan, and His far surpassed anything I might have imagined. Sure, as a kid, I draw a diagram of the house I someday would have, I would have twelve children and a mother-in-law room on my house. I had dreams of being surrounded by loving little bodies and always patient and kind and the perfect mom.
Then I grew up. Reality check. OK, 2 or 3 kids, a job, a loving husband… the order wasn’t my focus, it was just all part of the eventual dream.
Well, reality was when the Lord spoke to my heart – without question – that He wanted to be in charge. He wanted my trust (and I have trust issues, in case you haven’t figured that out yet – I’m learning and I’ve come a long way, but I still struggle with trust sometimes…) God placed it clearly on my heart to leave control over my family size in His hands… This after He changed the way I dress (no more tight jeans, no more pants or short skirts, no more clothing that shows more than anyone but my husband should see… no more gaudy jewelry, attention grabbing make up, different hair colors every few weeks…) He brought me back to who He created me to be – premature white streaks in my hair and all! The only two “people” that I have to impress with my appearance is God and my husband. In that order. And in pleasing my God with my dress, my hair, my face, I also please my husband who loves me for the person God created me to be.
OK, so I give you control, Lord. What are you going to do with it? Oh, wait, that’s right… that’s part of the trust, isn’t it? Not knowing and not having to know… Your will be done, Lord.
Over the years I’ve battled with that – Lord, really? How am I going to keep up with five young children? Please give me stamina, patience, and wisdom… and an extra measure to boot… I had my moments of doubt “is this really wise, Lord? Ok, yes, I will trust you… but I need your help to do it…”
Now, eight children into it, I believe that God had a plan far, far greater than any I could have ever imagined… and I am so glad He got me to listen! Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you have given… for those in my arms, and those who remain only in my heart… It is my hope that some day, when it is my time to meet my Lord and my Creator, that I will also meet my children who have gone to the Lord before me. That we can worship the Lord together – that I can tell them each how very much I loved them, even though I did not hold them in this life… and we will be in the Lord’s presence all together.
Until that time, it is my job to trust God for His perfect timing, and to know that He answers prayers – just not always the way we want Him to… and sometimes His answer isn’t a yes or a no, but a “wait and be still…”
Just for fun... and maybe science?
33 Reasons to love drinking tea - as avid tea drinkers (black tea, British style, with demerara sugar and a bit of milk) I found this fun and interesting!
If you love tea or need reasons to love it, click here :)
www.nursingdegree.net/blog/18/33-health-benefits-of-drinking-tea/
Enjoy! :)
If you love tea or need reasons to love it, click here :)
www.nursingdegree.net/blog/18/33-health-benefits-of-drinking-tea/
Enjoy! :)
Large family laundry...
OK, so it's an obvious point that large families make a lot of laundry, right? If we saved up laundry for one day a week, we would always have a mountain of stink cluttering the downstairs. Nope, we do laundry every day. Two or three loads on average helps us keep caught up. Two of my girls are assigned laundry sorters - this works great! (at least, in theory...) In theory, nearing the end of the day, those two sorter sweeties will bounce on down the stairs, sweetly sort, and diligently distribute appropriate piles to designated bedrooms... Uh huh... in reality, we get distracted in the evenings, and sometimes the laundry piles up - no, not the dirty kind, though that does happen occasionally... the clean laundry gets piled up in the corner of my oldest daughter's room and doesn't. get. sorted. Andrew is out of underwear? How is that possible? There's a load in the dryer and one waiting to be run, where is all the clean laundry we've run of late? Oooohhhh... my dears, go take care of that laundry - right. now. please. Thank you.
So we hyper focus on laundry the day before my husband comes home, which means three or four loads (towels and any bedding that may need washing) - because his job takes him away for a few days at a time every time... He's applied for another position, and I really hope he gets it, because I miss being spoiled by his presence every day. Yes, it sure beats out 6 month or longer deployments - I don't miss those a bit! but, I do miss my husband being home more... But I'm rabbit trailing again, aren't I? Sorry... laundry... When he gets home, he has a duffel bag full of smelly laundry - uniforms, stinky running clothes, dirty socks and underwear ... I like to toss in his laundry within hours of his getting home so that it's done by the end of the day and we don't need to worry about it (or *ahem* smell it!) for another week. Three loads does it, because I run mine and our youngest one's laundry along with his. A dark load, a light load, and a load of towels.
Note or tip of interest... stinky laundry... to get the smell out, pour half a cup to a full cup of white vinegar in the wash cycle. I'm no fan of the vinegar smell, but it works wonders and it's cheap, too! :) Oh, and when the load is done running, you can't smell the vinegar anymore. Thank goodness!!! Works well on wet sheets when someone has had an accident, as we have discovered with 6 children potty trained and two more not yet started -one is too young and the other has absolutely no interest... yet. I'm holding out hope, though!
We learned long ago that potty training isn't something that parents can really and truly control. If the child is not yet ready or has decided that she doesn't WANT to, there just isn't much you can do but encourage and stay diligent and hopeful that someday... but they have all been potty trained by the age of four. Sometimes there is an occasional accident, but not usually... sometimes there is an exploding diaper in the middle of the night or wee hours of the morning, but thank the Lord not usually! Still, the vinegar trick has saved us loads of money in the laundry room, and many bad smells in the kids' bedrooms!!
Anyway, laundry... am I going senile, or do I just rabbit trail a lot? Sorry...
We long ago stopped using paper towels and paper napkins in the kitchen, so that adds just enough each day to round out the loads for darks and lights - and we have cloth napkins (most home made, some store bought... but I need to make more, since some are showing wear and age...) we run a load then switch over, run another and switch again. Some day I'm going to have a clothes line that will hold a couple of loads and we'll save tons on our electric bill, too! However, in our sometimes sub-zero temps, that isn't always feasible even if I did have a clothes line... this year has been unseasonably warm, so a clothesline might be a good thing even yet. Someday soon, my husband has promised! :)
So, laundry isn't exciting, but it's part of life... and something I get asked about often by smaller families, so there it is :)
So we hyper focus on laundry the day before my husband comes home, which means three or four loads (towels and any bedding that may need washing) - because his job takes him away for a few days at a time every time... He's applied for another position, and I really hope he gets it, because I miss being spoiled by his presence every day. Yes, it sure beats out 6 month or longer deployments - I don't miss those a bit! but, I do miss my husband being home more... But I'm rabbit trailing again, aren't I? Sorry... laundry... When he gets home, he has a duffel bag full of smelly laundry - uniforms, stinky running clothes, dirty socks and underwear ... I like to toss in his laundry within hours of his getting home so that it's done by the end of the day and we don't need to worry about it (or *ahem* smell it!) for another week. Three loads does it, because I run mine and our youngest one's laundry along with his. A dark load, a light load, and a load of towels.
Note or tip of interest... stinky laundry... to get the smell out, pour half a cup to a full cup of white vinegar in the wash cycle. I'm no fan of the vinegar smell, but it works wonders and it's cheap, too! :) Oh, and when the load is done running, you can't smell the vinegar anymore. Thank goodness!!! Works well on wet sheets when someone has had an accident, as we have discovered with 6 children potty trained and two more not yet started -one is too young and the other has absolutely no interest... yet. I'm holding out hope, though!
We learned long ago that potty training isn't something that parents can really and truly control. If the child is not yet ready or has decided that she doesn't WANT to, there just isn't much you can do but encourage and stay diligent and hopeful that someday... but they have all been potty trained by the age of four. Sometimes there is an occasional accident, but not usually... sometimes there is an exploding diaper in the middle of the night or wee hours of the morning, but thank the Lord not usually! Still, the vinegar trick has saved us loads of money in the laundry room, and many bad smells in the kids' bedrooms!!
Anyway, laundry... am I going senile, or do I just rabbit trail a lot? Sorry...
We long ago stopped using paper towels and paper napkins in the kitchen, so that adds just enough each day to round out the loads for darks and lights - and we have cloth napkins (most home made, some store bought... but I need to make more, since some are showing wear and age...) we run a load then switch over, run another and switch again. Some day I'm going to have a clothes line that will hold a couple of loads and we'll save tons on our electric bill, too! However, in our sometimes sub-zero temps, that isn't always feasible even if I did have a clothes line... this year has been unseasonably warm, so a clothesline might be a good thing even yet. Someday soon, my husband has promised! :)
So, laundry isn't exciting, but it's part of life... and something I get asked about often by smaller families, so there it is :)
Chubby hands, Flinstone feet, and Toddler kisses.
What do these have in common? Chubby hands, Flinstone feet, and wet but very affectionate kisses? My birthday boy! Ben is three today. He has brought a special joy to my life - the life of my family.
(for the record, each and every one of my children is special and wonderful in his or her very own way - each and every one of them is a tremendous gift and blessing from the Lord)
So, back to Ben... He's got these wonderful chubby cheeks that just beg to be kissed. His smile is like a lightbulb in a dark room. His brown eyes sparkle with joy and mischief (because, after all, he is ALLLLL boy.) and he tells terriffic jokes for a little guy!
Knock knock...
Who's there?
Fish... (huh? ok, I'll play along...)
Fish who?
Bless you!
(ok, I didn't see that coming - but have heard it a million times since!!)
then he graduated to...
Knock knock...
Who's there?
Atch... (atch? what's an atch??)
Atch who? (oh, that's what... hahaha)
Bless you again!
I hear it a million times, but coming from my little guy, it's still funny, if it's possible for a joke to be funny on the millionth and third time around... Cute might be a better word for it at this point.
And is he shy? Only if it suits his purpose... Most of the time he is warm fuzzies and outgoing and smiles and sparkling eyes of intelligence and curiosity. This boy loves to create, to build (told you he's all boy!) He has been a balm to my soul more times than I can count - he has this way of knowing you need a hug and just being there, all chubby arms and smooshy kisses, and "I love you, Mama". *happy sigh*
When I go out to check on the chickens or to take care of the horses, he's right there, "can I come wif you?" He's only ever broken one egg - no small feat for those little hands... he's very careful - and he loves his eggs fluffy and scrambled!
Did I mention his laugh? It's sooo contagious! We sometimes tickle him just to hear that giggle... when something pleases him, he lets out a little laugh that makes everyone smile - and he's not hard to please, either, so we get lots of smiles a la Ben!
Someday, when he's grown up, he is going to make a wonderful husband to some very lucky wife! Until that day, I hope he takes his time growing up, and stays my little man for a long, long time.
Happy birthday, my sweet boy!
(for the record, each and every one of my children is special and wonderful in his or her very own way - each and every one of them is a tremendous gift and blessing from the Lord)
So, back to Ben... He's got these wonderful chubby cheeks that just beg to be kissed. His smile is like a lightbulb in a dark room. His brown eyes sparkle with joy and mischief (because, after all, he is ALLLLL boy.) and he tells terriffic jokes for a little guy!
Knock knock...
Who's there?
Fish... (huh? ok, I'll play along...)
Fish who?
Bless you!
(ok, I didn't see that coming - but have heard it a million times since!!)
then he graduated to...
Knock knock...
Who's there?
Atch... (atch? what's an atch??)
Atch who? (oh, that's what... hahaha)
Bless you again!
I hear it a million times, but coming from my little guy, it's still funny, if it's possible for a joke to be funny on the millionth and third time around... Cute might be a better word for it at this point.
And is he shy? Only if it suits his purpose... Most of the time he is warm fuzzies and outgoing and smiles and sparkling eyes of intelligence and curiosity. This boy loves to create, to build (told you he's all boy!) He has been a balm to my soul more times than I can count - he has this way of knowing you need a hug and just being there, all chubby arms and smooshy kisses, and "I love you, Mama". *happy sigh*
When I go out to check on the chickens or to take care of the horses, he's right there, "can I come wif you?" He's only ever broken one egg - no small feat for those little hands... he's very careful - and he loves his eggs fluffy and scrambled!
Did I mention his laugh? It's sooo contagious! We sometimes tickle him just to hear that giggle... when something pleases him, he lets out a little laugh that makes everyone smile - and he's not hard to please, either, so we get lots of smiles a la Ben!
Someday, when he's grown up, he is going to make a wonderful husband to some very lucky wife! Until that day, I hope he takes his time growing up, and stays my little man for a long, long time.
Happy birthday, my sweet boy!
Submission, trust, and fathers.
Ok, so it's late and this one is a little heavy, but it is something I've been thinking on since listening to the Botkin sister's presentation of "What is Biblical Femininity?"
In their presentation, they say that daughters need to trust their fathers - to give their father's their hearts - to trust in the man that GOD HAS GIVEN THEM FOR A FATHER (no, I'm not yelling, just emphasizing).
So I wonder, how does that work when your father hates you? How does that work when your father has despised you for as long as you can remember (because you weren't a boy - his last chance at one... because you laugh like his sister that tormented him when they were growing up and he has long disliked and often hated... because you remind him somehow of his mother whom he also has long despised... because you were a hyper little snot sometimes and a bull-headed one at that, and you just weren't always easy to like, even if he ever did want to give you a try?) Oops, more painful transparency... well, it's true. There was a short time when my father and I were on good terms, he and my mother were in the process of a divorce, I was a single mother of a baby, and he and I had a tiny bit of the relationship I have always wished to have with him... and I asked him why he hated me so much for so many years, and he was painfully honest with me. I don't regret asking him, and I don't regret hearing his answer - it gave me some good insight into the man whose approval I have almost always craved and have almost never gotten.
OK, disclaimer - I don't want pity for that, I'm just speaking fact, so please don't feel sorry for it. It is what it is - I have long accepted that. It hurt a great deal growing up, and when I'd had enough rejection, I made wrong choices that can only be blamed on me because I really did know better, but I chose not to care... and I made a mess of things. And how. And in the midst of my selfish anger and rebellion, the Lord reached down and convicted me of my sinful heart and my angry ways, and He brought me out of that pit of self-pity and destruction, and He brought me to a place where I could see my own fault in the relationship with my father (beause I am far, far, far from being innocent) and where I could really and truly forgive him for his part. So, pity not allowed or wanted - just giving background, k? K.
So, the Botkin sisters are talking about giving your father your heart... What if you have offered it time and again, and he quite simply doesn't want it? What if he rejects it? What if he has rejected it for years and years and years? What then? (No, I don't have an answer, just thinking out loud here...) What if you *don't* trust your father? What if you are afraid of him? (not of him hurting you physically, but of him rejecting you or hurting your heart?) What do you do with that?
I'm not about to argue that God gave me the father I was given. I don't doubt it for a moment. But what if that fallible man (because we are all, after all, fallible) failed as a father? What if he does not want anything to do with his daughter? What do you do with that?
You know, for a long, long time I viewed God as I viewed my father... I was *afraid* of Him... It seemed to me that nearly every time I screwed up as a kid (not every time, but pretty darn near!) my father saw it or heard about it or somehow otherwise found out about it... and he pounced. Now, I'm not saying I didn't deserve punishment, because so often I did! And I won't say that I think he was wrong to spank, because I believe spanking (when done right) is a good thing - but it isn't always... and he didn't always do it "right" - he often did it in anger... one example was when I told a huge and horrible whopper of a lie at school... I was so wrong... and I got so caught... oh my. I **deserved** a good spanking. Period. What I got was far more than a "good spanking".
That wasn't the only time he got angry and "disciplinarian" like that. This is just one of many examples. Was he wrong to spank me? Not at all. But the anger with which he spanked WAS wrong, and the extreme number of times he swung that paddle WAS wrong. The paddle was a 1x4 board, and it broke over my back that night. He swung hard. Where was my mother? He sent her and my sister for a walk, and they were gone for a long while.
So, how is that like God? Well, it isn't... but a girl sees her father-figure as a god of sorts... she craves his attention, his approval, his time... and he sets the tone for how she sees God. So God in my mind was a lightning bolt throwing angry God who was just WAITING to POUNCE... Just watching for me to screw up, to do something wrong, to think wrong thoughts, to say bad words... anything... so he could pounce and punish.
You know what, though? God isn't like that. He isn't "up there" throwing lightning bolts, He is a loving Father who does allow consequences for our sins, and yet who desires so much more for us... He desires good for us, and not evil... He gives us chance after chance after chance after chance... Forget Jesus' words to forgive seventy times seven (no, don't really - that's important, too!), God forgives us far and above that piddly number...
Forgives us... piddly... seventy times seven is piddly? Well, not when we are the ones needing to offer forgiveness... ouch... and yet, He offers it to us... and so we too should offer it... even if the recipient doesn't want our forgiveness or is ever aware that we've given it...
Yes, I have forgiven my father... long ago... but that doesn't mean memories of him don't still hurt... Was he all bad? No - he had some very good points as well... during one short time that we were in a good relationship together was just before my husband and I married - with my father's blessing, I was moving from one state to another - quite literally across the country - to be closer to my soon-to-be-husband, because he was back in the states and we were planning to be married, but were hoping to live in the same state for a while first to get reacquainted again first. Well, my car broke down literally half way between those states... I left Idaho, heading for Maryland with my two year old - our belongings packed into my little car (with a few bigger, special things in storage back in Idaho) and the transmission blew in Nebraska. No, it wasn't my driving - the car had a history of bad transmissions and that started long before it was my car - I can't take the blame for that one!) Anyway, I had a mechanic look at it, it wasn't repairable, and they didn't have the right transmission in stock, but they could order one... it would take a few days, though... so I called the Ford dealership (it was a Taurus, after all) and talked to their repair guys... I took notes from the phone calls, reviewed my finances, and looked over the local paper at used car ads... then I called my father.
OK dad, this is what the situation is, this is what it will cost to replace with a used/ rebuilt trannie, and this is what I found for used cards. This is how much money I have left. What do you think I should do? He asked for the number of the Ford dealer and said to hang tight (not his exact words) and he would call me back... about an hour later the phone rang... it was him... now I'm going to rabbit trail just a bit with an intermission...
After I called and talked to my dad, and while I was waiting for him to call back, I called my husband-to-be and filled him in on what was happening... we agreed that we both really needed to pray and make sure this wasn't God's way of telling us that we were going against His will. I asked my intended if he was having second thoughts, and if this wasn't a good way of telling me that perhaps we should wait, or perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all and he immediately shut down those thoughts... he had waited this long, he could continue to wait... he would wait forever if the Lord said "no" or "wait" - but as he said, it would be a mistake to marry if it wasn't the Lord's plan for us, no matter how much we might want it. He was right, and we spent the remainder of the time praying, literally on our knees, after hanging up. When the phone rang again, about an hour later, my legs were numb, so I picked up the phone and sat down on the nearest chair. It was my dad and he told me that he'd just spoken with a guy at the dealership and to call him and ONLY him and not talk to anyone else. Period.
OK, dad. I'll call him now...
Good thing I was sitting down... I called the guy and he made arrangements with me to pick up my car the next morning. I asked him when he would have it repaired and ready for me, and how much was it going to cost? He said "You don't know what your father and I talked about, do you?" I said I guess I don't, maybe you can fill me in on the details... he told me that my father was trading in my broken down little car for a brand new Ranger truck... and that my father was paying for it - the finances had been handled, I just needed an hour or so to go over all of the paperwork and what not and sign it. Good thing I was sitting down... oh, right, I said that already... shock... surprise.... and more... shock...
OK, dad, I just got off the phone with the guy, what just happened there? Oh wow, it's a wedding present - a gift of your blessing to us on our marriage... oh wow...
He said that he felt the Lord prompting him to buy me a new vehicle before my daughter and I left Idaho, but he didn't do it... and then (for the first time in my entire life... ever...) he apologized for not doing what he knew the Lord wanted him to do for me.
Wow - you just bought me a brand-spanking new truck and you are asking for my forgiveness??? Wow... well of course I forgive you, but that's a two way street and there is much forgiveness needed on my part as well... but yes - and thank you...
Backtracking years prior to that - I was going to live in a foster home... a private arrangement, not a state placement... it was all settled, but it didn't look good for my parents. There was this Camaro that I had been drooling over for weeks... it was for sale... needed some work, but nothing major... Dad said he would buy it for me if I would move back home and stay. I told him no - I didn't want him to buy me anything if he couldn't offer me his love as well... That settled it. I moved to the foster home a week later and he didn't speak to me for a couple of years after. I didn't want his money or the things that could be bought with it - I wanted his love. Same as now. I don't want anything from him but his love.
So, you see, the truck gift was huge... far more than a reliable vehicle... brand new, fresh off the lot, never been owned before and not a scratch on that shiny red paint... oh, and he paid for the tags and insurance until we were married and could switch it over to our own insurance. That wasn't cheap either. And he didn't have to do it... Indeed, had he not, I may very well have ended up back in Idaho, thinking that was God's way of telling me I was doing wrong by going to Maryland and marrying my long-time best friend. With my father's blessing and an offering of his love.
Another time... when I was a kid... mom was gone for the weekend, I think a women's retreat or something for the weekend. I was going bike riding with my friend April while she was in town visiting her father - she had his men's bike that was too big for her, and I had my women's bike that was a good fit for either of us, so she asked to trade bikes for the day. I'd never ridden a men's bike, but I was a good bit taller than her, so it just made sense. Well, I lost my balance going over the curb from our driveway to the street and ended up sliding across the road on one leg, with the other leg caught up on the bar that goes across the man's bike. I stopped by hitting my head on the mailbox post on the other side of the street - very bloody and in a lot of pain. I didn't realize it at the time, but apparently I screamed the entire way across the street and a lady visiting her family a few houses down saw my little accident and came running to help. I am so lucky that she was a nurse and her husband was a strong and friendly man - he carried me into the house and laid me on the couch - my sister came running from a friend's house a couple of houses the other direction, and the nurse-lady tried to clean my wounds while my sister called our dad. (that was back in the day when cell phones were so huge they wouldn't even fit in the average woman's purse! nothing like the little jobbies we have today...) Dad came home from work. That in and of itself was huge - he could hear my cries of pain and something paternal kicked in, and he came home. Huge. Did I say that already? He wasn't gruff when I cried because it hurt so bad when I needed to get up and go to the bathrom - in fact, he carried me to the bathroom a few times, setting me just inside the door so I could close it and do what I needed to, while he waited for me outside the door... Huge... Amazing... Astounding... He was gentle - he was careful with my wounds, he even changed bloody bandages before I slept that night.
Granted it didn't last after I recovered, but he was very much like a Daddy during that time, and I want to believe that it showed a bit of what he was on the inside...
Not a full year later he was in a mental hospital for a short time (I think for a weekend). Diagnosed with manic depression. That explains a lot, doesn't it? but the help he accepted and the medication he agreed to take didn't last long and he was back to the father I knew and feared not long after... and for a long time... but I had glimpsed the Daddy that he COULD be, and I desperately wished him back. I offered my heart again and again - I sought ways to please him, just to meet his disapproval over something else. And eventually, I gave up. I quit trying, and I even told myself that I didn't care anymore (but I was lying). I stopped offering my heart - I stopped wanting or trying to trust him - I stopped believing that he was the father God wanted me to have. And in a way, he wasn't... He, the man, is the father that God gave me... on purpose. But he, the human, fallible man chose a way that wasn't God's way in his fathering. I did not trust him with my heart. I could not. I've tried over the years... many ways,, many times, but in the end, it's always resulted in more broken heart and destroyed dreams. And so, not having had contact with my father - the Daddy I so desperately wanted for so many, many years - I hear this message... this part in particular and I can't help myself... I wonder...
What do I do with this? How do I trust? How do I give him my heart? I have given forgiveness... and when old hurts creep up (as they sometimes do) I have to assess if I am just feeling the rejection and hurt, or if I am allowing anger or other sin (pity?) to creep in... and if I do see those, I have to repent and ask my Lord to forgive me... and to help me forgive yet again. It's a process and it's a choice. I choose to forgive, yes. but how does that translate with trust? I love without question - I always will. If my father were to call me tomorrow (theoretically that isn't possible - our number is unlisted and I don't think he has any way to get it even if, by some huge miracle, he wanted it) I would gladly, joyfully reunite and try again... I believe that my God is a God who works miracles... I believe that He heals broken things, relationships especially... and yet I've prayed for that particular miracle for years and years and years... I can't help but feel like His answer is "no". Maybe I'm wrong - I hope I am wrong... I hope that some day... some miraculous day... the Lord will work that miracle. Until then, how do I trust? What do I do with a heart that my father wants nothing of?
I am so glad that my God is the father to the fatherless... because while my father is living (I think... last I heard... I hope...) he has long, long refused to be a father... our last phone conversation he told me exactly what he thinks/ thought of me, and it wasn't pretty... at all... and who he thinks I am or was is nothing like the person I have been for so many years. The person he described me to be would be unrecognizable to those who do know me - even those who do not particularly like me!
So, while I don't know what to do with these things as far as my earthly father is concerned, I do know that I have a heavenly father who sees me for all of my faults and failings, for my successes (that are only through his great mercy and grace!), and for my reality, and he loves me... I cling to that. and pray that some day my earthly father will too.
In their presentation, they say that daughters need to trust their fathers - to give their father's their hearts - to trust in the man that GOD HAS GIVEN THEM FOR A FATHER (no, I'm not yelling, just emphasizing).
So I wonder, how does that work when your father hates you? How does that work when your father has despised you for as long as you can remember (because you weren't a boy - his last chance at one... because you laugh like his sister that tormented him when they were growing up and he has long disliked and often hated... because you remind him somehow of his mother whom he also has long despised... because you were a hyper little snot sometimes and a bull-headed one at that, and you just weren't always easy to like, even if he ever did want to give you a try?) Oops, more painful transparency... well, it's true. There was a short time when my father and I were on good terms, he and my mother were in the process of a divorce, I was a single mother of a baby, and he and I had a tiny bit of the relationship I have always wished to have with him... and I asked him why he hated me so much for so many years, and he was painfully honest with me. I don't regret asking him, and I don't regret hearing his answer - it gave me some good insight into the man whose approval I have almost always craved and have almost never gotten.
OK, disclaimer - I don't want pity for that, I'm just speaking fact, so please don't feel sorry for it. It is what it is - I have long accepted that. It hurt a great deal growing up, and when I'd had enough rejection, I made wrong choices that can only be blamed on me because I really did know better, but I chose not to care... and I made a mess of things. And how. And in the midst of my selfish anger and rebellion, the Lord reached down and convicted me of my sinful heart and my angry ways, and He brought me out of that pit of self-pity and destruction, and He brought me to a place where I could see my own fault in the relationship with my father (beause I am far, far, far from being innocent) and where I could really and truly forgive him for his part. So, pity not allowed or wanted - just giving background, k? K.
So, the Botkin sisters are talking about giving your father your heart... What if you have offered it time and again, and he quite simply doesn't want it? What if he rejects it? What if he has rejected it for years and years and years? What then? (No, I don't have an answer, just thinking out loud here...) What if you *don't* trust your father? What if you are afraid of him? (not of him hurting you physically, but of him rejecting you or hurting your heart?) What do you do with that?
I'm not about to argue that God gave me the father I was given. I don't doubt it for a moment. But what if that fallible man (because we are all, after all, fallible) failed as a father? What if he does not want anything to do with his daughter? What do you do with that?
You know, for a long, long time I viewed God as I viewed my father... I was *afraid* of Him... It seemed to me that nearly every time I screwed up as a kid (not every time, but pretty darn near!) my father saw it or heard about it or somehow otherwise found out about it... and he pounced. Now, I'm not saying I didn't deserve punishment, because so often I did! And I won't say that I think he was wrong to spank, because I believe spanking (when done right) is a good thing - but it isn't always... and he didn't always do it "right" - he often did it in anger... one example was when I told a huge and horrible whopper of a lie at school... I was so wrong... and I got so caught... oh my. I **deserved** a good spanking. Period. What I got was far more than a "good spanking".
That wasn't the only time he got angry and "disciplinarian" like that. This is just one of many examples. Was he wrong to spank me? Not at all. But the anger with which he spanked WAS wrong, and the extreme number of times he swung that paddle WAS wrong. The paddle was a 1x4 board, and it broke over my back that night. He swung hard. Where was my mother? He sent her and my sister for a walk, and they were gone for a long while.
So, how is that like God? Well, it isn't... but a girl sees her father-figure as a god of sorts... she craves his attention, his approval, his time... and he sets the tone for how she sees God. So God in my mind was a lightning bolt throwing angry God who was just WAITING to POUNCE... Just watching for me to screw up, to do something wrong, to think wrong thoughts, to say bad words... anything... so he could pounce and punish.
You know what, though? God isn't like that. He isn't "up there" throwing lightning bolts, He is a loving Father who does allow consequences for our sins, and yet who desires so much more for us... He desires good for us, and not evil... He gives us chance after chance after chance after chance... Forget Jesus' words to forgive seventy times seven (no, don't really - that's important, too!), God forgives us far and above that piddly number...
Forgives us... piddly... seventy times seven is piddly? Well, not when we are the ones needing to offer forgiveness... ouch... and yet, He offers it to us... and so we too should offer it... even if the recipient doesn't want our forgiveness or is ever aware that we've given it...
Yes, I have forgiven my father... long ago... but that doesn't mean memories of him don't still hurt... Was he all bad? No - he had some very good points as well... during one short time that we were in a good relationship together was just before my husband and I married - with my father's blessing, I was moving from one state to another - quite literally across the country - to be closer to my soon-to-be-husband, because he was back in the states and we were planning to be married, but were hoping to live in the same state for a while first to get reacquainted again first. Well, my car broke down literally half way between those states... I left Idaho, heading for Maryland with my two year old - our belongings packed into my little car (with a few bigger, special things in storage back in Idaho) and the transmission blew in Nebraska. No, it wasn't my driving - the car had a history of bad transmissions and that started long before it was my car - I can't take the blame for that one!) Anyway, I had a mechanic look at it, it wasn't repairable, and they didn't have the right transmission in stock, but they could order one... it would take a few days, though... so I called the Ford dealership (it was a Taurus, after all) and talked to their repair guys... I took notes from the phone calls, reviewed my finances, and looked over the local paper at used car ads... then I called my father.
OK dad, this is what the situation is, this is what it will cost to replace with a used/ rebuilt trannie, and this is what I found for used cards. This is how much money I have left. What do you think I should do? He asked for the number of the Ford dealer and said to hang tight (not his exact words) and he would call me back... about an hour later the phone rang... it was him... now I'm going to rabbit trail just a bit with an intermission...
After I called and talked to my dad, and while I was waiting for him to call back, I called my husband-to-be and filled him in on what was happening... we agreed that we both really needed to pray and make sure this wasn't God's way of telling us that we were going against His will. I asked my intended if he was having second thoughts, and if this wasn't a good way of telling me that perhaps we should wait, or perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all and he immediately shut down those thoughts... he had waited this long, he could continue to wait... he would wait forever if the Lord said "no" or "wait" - but as he said, it would be a mistake to marry if it wasn't the Lord's plan for us, no matter how much we might want it. He was right, and we spent the remainder of the time praying, literally on our knees, after hanging up. When the phone rang again, about an hour later, my legs were numb, so I picked up the phone and sat down on the nearest chair. It was my dad and he told me that he'd just spoken with a guy at the dealership and to call him and ONLY him and not talk to anyone else. Period.
OK, dad. I'll call him now...
Good thing I was sitting down... I called the guy and he made arrangements with me to pick up my car the next morning. I asked him when he would have it repaired and ready for me, and how much was it going to cost? He said "You don't know what your father and I talked about, do you?" I said I guess I don't, maybe you can fill me in on the details... he told me that my father was trading in my broken down little car for a brand new Ranger truck... and that my father was paying for it - the finances had been handled, I just needed an hour or so to go over all of the paperwork and what not and sign it. Good thing I was sitting down... oh, right, I said that already... shock... surprise.... and more... shock...
OK, dad, I just got off the phone with the guy, what just happened there? Oh wow, it's a wedding present - a gift of your blessing to us on our marriage... oh wow...
He said that he felt the Lord prompting him to buy me a new vehicle before my daughter and I left Idaho, but he didn't do it... and then (for the first time in my entire life... ever...) he apologized for not doing what he knew the Lord wanted him to do for me.
Wow - you just bought me a brand-spanking new truck and you are asking for my forgiveness??? Wow... well of course I forgive you, but that's a two way street and there is much forgiveness needed on my part as well... but yes - and thank you...
Backtracking years prior to that - I was going to live in a foster home... a private arrangement, not a state placement... it was all settled, but it didn't look good for my parents. There was this Camaro that I had been drooling over for weeks... it was for sale... needed some work, but nothing major... Dad said he would buy it for me if I would move back home and stay. I told him no - I didn't want him to buy me anything if he couldn't offer me his love as well... That settled it. I moved to the foster home a week later and he didn't speak to me for a couple of years after. I didn't want his money or the things that could be bought with it - I wanted his love. Same as now. I don't want anything from him but his love.
So, you see, the truck gift was huge... far more than a reliable vehicle... brand new, fresh off the lot, never been owned before and not a scratch on that shiny red paint... oh, and he paid for the tags and insurance until we were married and could switch it over to our own insurance. That wasn't cheap either. And he didn't have to do it... Indeed, had he not, I may very well have ended up back in Idaho, thinking that was God's way of telling me I was doing wrong by going to Maryland and marrying my long-time best friend. With my father's blessing and an offering of his love.
Another time... when I was a kid... mom was gone for the weekend, I think a women's retreat or something for the weekend. I was going bike riding with my friend April while she was in town visiting her father - she had his men's bike that was too big for her, and I had my women's bike that was a good fit for either of us, so she asked to trade bikes for the day. I'd never ridden a men's bike, but I was a good bit taller than her, so it just made sense. Well, I lost my balance going over the curb from our driveway to the street and ended up sliding across the road on one leg, with the other leg caught up on the bar that goes across the man's bike. I stopped by hitting my head on the mailbox post on the other side of the street - very bloody and in a lot of pain. I didn't realize it at the time, but apparently I screamed the entire way across the street and a lady visiting her family a few houses down saw my little accident and came running to help. I am so lucky that she was a nurse and her husband was a strong and friendly man - he carried me into the house and laid me on the couch - my sister came running from a friend's house a couple of houses the other direction, and the nurse-lady tried to clean my wounds while my sister called our dad. (that was back in the day when cell phones were so huge they wouldn't even fit in the average woman's purse! nothing like the little jobbies we have today...) Dad came home from work. That in and of itself was huge - he could hear my cries of pain and something paternal kicked in, and he came home. Huge. Did I say that already? He wasn't gruff when I cried because it hurt so bad when I needed to get up and go to the bathrom - in fact, he carried me to the bathroom a few times, setting me just inside the door so I could close it and do what I needed to, while he waited for me outside the door... Huge... Amazing... Astounding... He was gentle - he was careful with my wounds, he even changed bloody bandages before I slept that night.
Granted it didn't last after I recovered, but he was very much like a Daddy during that time, and I want to believe that it showed a bit of what he was on the inside...
Not a full year later he was in a mental hospital for a short time (I think for a weekend). Diagnosed with manic depression. That explains a lot, doesn't it? but the help he accepted and the medication he agreed to take didn't last long and he was back to the father I knew and feared not long after... and for a long time... but I had glimpsed the Daddy that he COULD be, and I desperately wished him back. I offered my heart again and again - I sought ways to please him, just to meet his disapproval over something else. And eventually, I gave up. I quit trying, and I even told myself that I didn't care anymore (but I was lying). I stopped offering my heart - I stopped wanting or trying to trust him - I stopped believing that he was the father God wanted me to have. And in a way, he wasn't... He, the man, is the father that God gave me... on purpose. But he, the human, fallible man chose a way that wasn't God's way in his fathering. I did not trust him with my heart. I could not. I've tried over the years... many ways,, many times, but in the end, it's always resulted in more broken heart and destroyed dreams. And so, not having had contact with my father - the Daddy I so desperately wanted for so many, many years - I hear this message... this part in particular and I can't help myself... I wonder...
What do I do with this? How do I trust? How do I give him my heart? I have given forgiveness... and when old hurts creep up (as they sometimes do) I have to assess if I am just feeling the rejection and hurt, or if I am allowing anger or other sin (pity?) to creep in... and if I do see those, I have to repent and ask my Lord to forgive me... and to help me forgive yet again. It's a process and it's a choice. I choose to forgive, yes. but how does that translate with trust? I love without question - I always will. If my father were to call me tomorrow (theoretically that isn't possible - our number is unlisted and I don't think he has any way to get it even if, by some huge miracle, he wanted it) I would gladly, joyfully reunite and try again... I believe that my God is a God who works miracles... I believe that He heals broken things, relationships especially... and yet I've prayed for that particular miracle for years and years and years... I can't help but feel like His answer is "no". Maybe I'm wrong - I hope I am wrong... I hope that some day... some miraculous day... the Lord will work that miracle. Until then, how do I trust? What do I do with a heart that my father wants nothing of?
I am so glad that my God is the father to the fatherless... because while my father is living (I think... last I heard... I hope...) he has long, long refused to be a father... our last phone conversation he told me exactly what he thinks/ thought of me, and it wasn't pretty... at all... and who he thinks I am or was is nothing like the person I have been for so many years. The person he described me to be would be unrecognizable to those who do know me - even those who do not particularly like me!
So, while I don't know what to do with these things as far as my earthly father is concerned, I do know that I have a heavenly father who sees me for all of my faults and failings, for my successes (that are only through his great mercy and grace!), and for my reality, and he loves me... I cling to that. and pray that some day my earthly father will too.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Biblical Femininity and challenges...
Years ago the Lord convicted me about being a submissive wife. You can find a number of scriptures about it in the Bible, and yet, it isn't as easy as... well, let me start with a little story instead.
It's funny, because I have long believed that the husband should be the head of the household, the head of the wife, and that the wife should gladly live in submission to her husband - but then the reality of that struck... and hard.
OK, short rabbit trail - if you haven't already figured it out, I'm pretty transparent - sometimes to a fault. This is me. I don't play games and I don't mince words. What you see is what you get - I think out loud, and type "out loud" too (aren't you glad you aren't in the room as I'm typing? It must get pretty annoying to anyone dealing with that! Fortunately at the moment, it's just my sleeping little one in her crib and me across the room being mostly quiet!)
Back to submission... My father will tell you (if you talk to him) that I was not exactly the most submissive child growing up - I've always been bull headed to a fault and pig headed at times too... dont' ask me to explain the difference, I just know Pig-headed is more insulting. It is what it is, yes? Well, my father and I have long been estranged, and we have been off and on through the years. This is a subject that brings great pain and regret, but is not the topic for the moment. Perhaps another day... I have to work up the courage... Anyway... During one of those times when we were NOT estranged, and shortly after being married to my wonderful and long-suffering husband, I had a disagreement with my husband. Now a little background... we grew up together, have known each other since we were just little tots... I played with his next younger sister sometimes, but it wasn't until we were in junior high that he and I really became FRIENDS. Well, a lot of history and water under the bridge, fast forward to after high school... I was living in a bad way and he was not. He joined the military and was sent overseas after his training - I was stateside and making one bad choice after another. One good thing came of that time, and that is my oldest daughter. When my best friend in all of the world came home after being away for six years, I had a two year old daughter. By that time I had given my life to the Lord (again - I had walked away and fallen badly for several years... that's not a pretty story) and was living a much cleaner life. That said, I was lonely. I had been hurt by many men professing love or affection, and had come to greatly distrust men in general. I learned to be even more independant than before (not really a good thing, all things considered) and then he came home and there it was... that great love that I had been fighting - I had broken up with him numerous times before, always telling him he deserved better (and yes, he really did) and yet he truly loved me and chose to wait... well, he waited and waited and waited... and when he came home, we both looked at it as seeing a long-lost best friend again... but it was more. A few months later we were married - he went from being a single Airman to a husband *and* a father, as well as an enlisted man. Whoo, his life got complicated, because I came with baggage.
So, back to where the rabbit trail left off...
I had my way of doing things, I had this parenting thing pretty much figured out (hahahaha, can you hear the hysterical laughter??) and he made a decision that I did not like. It wasn't my way of doing things, and after all, I had been a parent for two whole whopping years before he came back into the picture, so clearly I knew a lot more than he did, right? Really... uh huh. So he went to work, and I went about my morning, steaming and stomping and being a tantrumy little bugger. Then I made a huge mistake. I called... my mother. (yes, you can boo and hiss - terribly appropriate, I have to admit) Her words were not words of wisdom, they were words of "I knew this was a mistake. You should divorce him now before things get worse."
OK - this coming from my mother who was at the time a man-hater. Would she admit to that status? Nope. But she was recently divorced and recently broke up with a boyfriend, and she was ANGRY at men. I should have known better, and honestly, I probably did - but I wanted someone to commisserate with me and wallow in my anger and sef-righteousness with me (told you I was transparent!). Well, suggestions of divorce were totally out of line. To be honest, the disagreement was a very mild discipline issue - my husband handled something, and it came out well, but he didn't do it MY WAY! I mean, really... the nerve, right?
So, I get off the phone with my man-hating mother and I called... my father. Yup. The man himself. I told him my story of woe and waited expectantly for his words of sympathy (should have known better, he's never shown me sympathy in my life! He has at time given words of great wisdom and at other times words of great destruction - but never, ever sympathy. What was I thinking? I was alone and had no one else to talk to, that's what!) Well, he had an answer for me and it didn't feel good to hear, in fact I was so angry at his words that I wanted to hang up the phone on him AFTER telling him how very, very wrong he was. But I didn't. No, a display like that would get me disowned... again... and I didn't want that, so I held my tongue until after we cordially hung up. Ha.
What did he say, you wonder? Good question - he told me that I needed to let my new husband wear the pants in the family and to stop trying to usurp his God-given authority. WHAT?!?!???
*sigh*
Hours later, after ranting at my poor, innocent husband (yes, really), and ranting at my ever-patient and very, very, very long-suffering God, I listened... and I heard my father's words again... and they were the Lord's words... OUCH. OK, Lord, you're right. Dad was right, too, much as I hate to admit it... I am sorry, oh I am so very, very sorry... please help me to trust, to step back and step down from the leadership position I have wrongly taken (wrested?) from my husband, my leader...
So at the end of the work day, my dearest came home to find his pathetic wife in tears, sobbing apologies for being so angry and disrespectful to him, for wearing the pants in the family and not allowing him to lead as was his rightful position. Poor man, he didn't even realize I was angry when he left! So he got the whole long story (yes, longer than this post) and then another tearful apology, which he so graciously accepted. And that was the start of a new marriage for us... because I learned to step back and not try to take the head leadership position in our young family... I learned a very painful lesson (which can be good for a few laughs now, so many years later! hey, if I can't laugh at myself, I'm in BIG trouble!!!)
The wife's position is not to lead. She is not a doormat either, not by any means... but she is not the head or the equal in headship of the home...
Recently, I discovered the Botkin family. No, I haven't met any of them, but I heard a talk given by the two daughters of this family, and am now in the process of listening to a recorded series by their mother. Wow - what insight! I love, love, love the choice of wording they use in describing a woman's role... she is not her man's opposite, she does not compete with him, she does not clash with him, but she is to COMPLEMENT HIM.
Wow, wow, wow... I LOVE THAT!!!
Our men are not complete on their own, that is why God gave them a helpmeet... a wife...
In Genesis, in the story of Creation, God creates the earth and all within it, and He creates man... and He sees that man has not a helpmeet, so he gives man a deep sleep during which God creates woman out of man's bone with the PURPOSE of being the man's helper... not his servant, not his slave, his HELPER.
A helper picks up the workload and works alongside, takes up the jobs given her, takes joy in the fulfillment of being her husband's helpmeet, his helper, his other half... his complement... She strives to do her part to encourage her man, her husband - the only man she can truly be a helpmeet to... She strives to bring out his best, to listen to his hard day, to share in his joys, to share in his sorrows... to share in his passions... to give him children, to train them up to respect and honor him, to respect and honor him herself... to complement his strengths and to strengthen him in his weaknesses (wether that be stepping in to do those things he does not enjoy, if it is in his will for her to, or if it is to be his cheerleader, she builds him up and strengthens him.)
All of these things I have known, and yet did not have the right word for... until I heard their presentation and word choice of COMPLEMENT. How appropriate - how wonderful - how true!
If you care to listen to their message, it is titled "What Is Biblical Femininity?" by Elizabeth and Anna Sophia Botkin. I highly recommend it - and most especially for unmarried daughters!! (I listened to it alone first, and was rocked by the message... I later had my oldest girls (15 and 12) listen to it, and will eventually have all of my daughters listen because it is presented primarily for unmarried daughters by unmarried daughters who seek a better way than our American feminists teach and indoctrinate.
My next listening series is by their mother, Victoria Botkin, and is titled "She Shall Be Called Woman". She speaks as a Titus 2 woman, teaching the younger women - I have only listened to the first of the 9 CDs in this set, but I am encouraged, refreshed, and very much looking forward to listening to the next disk tomorrow or as time and family needs allow.
A wife = her husband's complement. How true - and how refreshing!
It's funny, because I have long believed that the husband should be the head of the household, the head of the wife, and that the wife should gladly live in submission to her husband - but then the reality of that struck... and hard.
OK, short rabbit trail - if you haven't already figured it out, I'm pretty transparent - sometimes to a fault. This is me. I don't play games and I don't mince words. What you see is what you get - I think out loud, and type "out loud" too (aren't you glad you aren't in the room as I'm typing? It must get pretty annoying to anyone dealing with that! Fortunately at the moment, it's just my sleeping little one in her crib and me across the room being mostly quiet!)
Back to submission... My father will tell you (if you talk to him) that I was not exactly the most submissive child growing up - I've always been bull headed to a fault and pig headed at times too... dont' ask me to explain the difference, I just know Pig-headed is more insulting. It is what it is, yes? Well, my father and I have long been estranged, and we have been off and on through the years. This is a subject that brings great pain and regret, but is not the topic for the moment. Perhaps another day... I have to work up the courage... Anyway... During one of those times when we were NOT estranged, and shortly after being married to my wonderful and long-suffering husband, I had a disagreement with my husband. Now a little background... we grew up together, have known each other since we were just little tots... I played with his next younger sister sometimes, but it wasn't until we were in junior high that he and I really became FRIENDS. Well, a lot of history and water under the bridge, fast forward to after high school... I was living in a bad way and he was not. He joined the military and was sent overseas after his training - I was stateside and making one bad choice after another. One good thing came of that time, and that is my oldest daughter. When my best friend in all of the world came home after being away for six years, I had a two year old daughter. By that time I had given my life to the Lord (again - I had walked away and fallen badly for several years... that's not a pretty story) and was living a much cleaner life. That said, I was lonely. I had been hurt by many men professing love or affection, and had come to greatly distrust men in general. I learned to be even more independant than before (not really a good thing, all things considered) and then he came home and there it was... that great love that I had been fighting - I had broken up with him numerous times before, always telling him he deserved better (and yes, he really did) and yet he truly loved me and chose to wait... well, he waited and waited and waited... and when he came home, we both looked at it as seeing a long-lost best friend again... but it was more. A few months later we were married - he went from being a single Airman to a husband *and* a father, as well as an enlisted man. Whoo, his life got complicated, because I came with baggage.
So, back to where the rabbit trail left off...
I had my way of doing things, I had this parenting thing pretty much figured out (hahahaha, can you hear the hysterical laughter??) and he made a decision that I did not like. It wasn't my way of doing things, and after all, I had been a parent for two whole whopping years before he came back into the picture, so clearly I knew a lot more than he did, right? Really... uh huh. So he went to work, and I went about my morning, steaming and stomping and being a tantrumy little bugger. Then I made a huge mistake. I called... my mother. (yes, you can boo and hiss - terribly appropriate, I have to admit) Her words were not words of wisdom, they were words of "I knew this was a mistake. You should divorce him now before things get worse."
OK - this coming from my mother who was at the time a man-hater. Would she admit to that status? Nope. But she was recently divorced and recently broke up with a boyfriend, and she was ANGRY at men. I should have known better, and honestly, I probably did - but I wanted someone to commisserate with me and wallow in my anger and sef-righteousness with me (told you I was transparent!). Well, suggestions of divorce were totally out of line. To be honest, the disagreement was a very mild discipline issue - my husband handled something, and it came out well, but he didn't do it MY WAY! I mean, really... the nerve, right?
So, I get off the phone with my man-hating mother and I called... my father. Yup. The man himself. I told him my story of woe and waited expectantly for his words of sympathy (should have known better, he's never shown me sympathy in my life! He has at time given words of great wisdom and at other times words of great destruction - but never, ever sympathy. What was I thinking? I was alone and had no one else to talk to, that's what!) Well, he had an answer for me and it didn't feel good to hear, in fact I was so angry at his words that I wanted to hang up the phone on him AFTER telling him how very, very wrong he was. But I didn't. No, a display like that would get me disowned... again... and I didn't want that, so I held my tongue until after we cordially hung up. Ha.
What did he say, you wonder? Good question - he told me that I needed to let my new husband wear the pants in the family and to stop trying to usurp his God-given authority. WHAT?!?!???
*sigh*
Hours later, after ranting at my poor, innocent husband (yes, really), and ranting at my ever-patient and very, very, very long-suffering God, I listened... and I heard my father's words again... and they were the Lord's words... OUCH. OK, Lord, you're right. Dad was right, too, much as I hate to admit it... I am sorry, oh I am so very, very sorry... please help me to trust, to step back and step down from the leadership position I have wrongly taken (wrested?) from my husband, my leader...
So at the end of the work day, my dearest came home to find his pathetic wife in tears, sobbing apologies for being so angry and disrespectful to him, for wearing the pants in the family and not allowing him to lead as was his rightful position. Poor man, he didn't even realize I was angry when he left! So he got the whole long story (yes, longer than this post) and then another tearful apology, which he so graciously accepted. And that was the start of a new marriage for us... because I learned to step back and not try to take the head leadership position in our young family... I learned a very painful lesson (which can be good for a few laughs now, so many years later! hey, if I can't laugh at myself, I'm in BIG trouble!!!)
The wife's position is not to lead. She is not a doormat either, not by any means... but she is not the head or the equal in headship of the home...
Recently, I discovered the Botkin family. No, I haven't met any of them, but I heard a talk given by the two daughters of this family, and am now in the process of listening to a recorded series by their mother. Wow - what insight! I love, love, love the choice of wording they use in describing a woman's role... she is not her man's opposite, she does not compete with him, she does not clash with him, but she is to COMPLEMENT HIM.
Wow, wow, wow... I LOVE THAT!!!
Our men are not complete on their own, that is why God gave them a helpmeet... a wife...
In Genesis, in the story of Creation, God creates the earth and all within it, and He creates man... and He sees that man has not a helpmeet, so he gives man a deep sleep during which God creates woman out of man's bone with the PURPOSE of being the man's helper... not his servant, not his slave, his HELPER.
A helper picks up the workload and works alongside, takes up the jobs given her, takes joy in the fulfillment of being her husband's helpmeet, his helper, his other half... his complement... She strives to do her part to encourage her man, her husband - the only man she can truly be a helpmeet to... She strives to bring out his best, to listen to his hard day, to share in his joys, to share in his sorrows... to share in his passions... to give him children, to train them up to respect and honor him, to respect and honor him herself... to complement his strengths and to strengthen him in his weaknesses (wether that be stepping in to do those things he does not enjoy, if it is in his will for her to, or if it is to be his cheerleader, she builds him up and strengthens him.)
All of these things I have known, and yet did not have the right word for... until I heard their presentation and word choice of COMPLEMENT. How appropriate - how wonderful - how true!
If you care to listen to their message, it is titled "What Is Biblical Femininity?" by Elizabeth and Anna Sophia Botkin. I highly recommend it - and most especially for unmarried daughters!! (I listened to it alone first, and was rocked by the message... I later had my oldest girls (15 and 12) listen to it, and will eventually have all of my daughters listen because it is presented primarily for unmarried daughters by unmarried daughters who seek a better way than our American feminists teach and indoctrinate.
My next listening series is by their mother, Victoria Botkin, and is titled "She Shall Be Called Woman". She speaks as a Titus 2 woman, teaching the younger women - I have only listened to the first of the 9 CDs in this set, but I am encouraged, refreshed, and very much looking forward to listening to the next disk tomorrow or as time and family needs allow.
A wife = her husband's complement. How true - and how refreshing!
Lamentations...
This week I've been reading Lamentations. I am not yet finished, even though it isn't a long book, because as any mother of children (especially those with very small children or with very many children) can tell you, life is often disrupted by blessings with pitter pattering feet and sometimes the screams of joy or frustration that accompany those adorable and usually sweet smelling feet!
But I digress...
Lamentations... it's a funny thing, really, because when I opened my Bible the other day, I intended to read in Proverbs. I believe the Lord had other plans for me, though, as I opened to a random page and the next page change landed me right smack dab in the middle of Lamentations. A verse jumped out at me and I read a bit, then a bit more, and then decided "hey, this is chapter three, I should go back and start at the beginning" - so I did.
Yes, I'm a rambler, you'll get used to it! ;)
Chapter three of Lamentations. The author of this book is moaning and, well, complaining. He sees his wretched state and feels abandoned by God. He hurts and he cries, and he feels alone. He is alone - and yet, he is not.
(17) "...he hath thrown down, and hath not pitied: and he hath caused thine enemy to rejoice over thee, he hath set up the horn of thine adversaries. (18) Their heart cried unto the Lord, O wall of the daughter of Zion, let tears run down like a river day and night: give thyself no rest: let not the apple of thine eye cease. (19) Arise, cry out in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart..."
OK, not exactly Proverbs, is it? and not exactly uplifting... but you know, it grabbed me - it was what I needed... to be humbled and reflect on the wretched state that is me. I am a sinner and there are sins that I battle with, and sometimes I don't even battle, I just freely give in to them - and then I feel guilty and wretched and wonder if God still is there. So very thankfully, I know He is - it isn't Him that walks away, is it? It's me... the sinner who turns her back on her faithful God to do or say or think unfaithful things... Convicting? Yes. True? Oh my, is it. And yet I keep reading...
Still chapter 3 of Lamentations - (21) "This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. (22) It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (23) They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."
That reminds me of a song from camp as a kid... oh the memories... oh the grace the Lord taught me there... but that's a rabbit trail best saved for another time. See? I'm learning...
I have hope - even in my sinful nature there is hope for better, for more... and it is new every morning! I might mess up terribly, but I can start fresh! Thank you, Lord, for that... You are far more forgiving than me - so far beyond seventy times seven...
Back to Lamentations - (25) "The Lord is good unto them that wair for him, to the soul that seeketh him... (28) He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him. (29) He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there many be hope. (30) He giveth his cheek to him that smitheth him: he is filled full with reproach. (31) For the Lord will not cast off forever: (32) but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies."
Skipping ahead just a bit (40) " Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. (41) Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens. (42) We have transgressed and have rebelled" (oh boy have I...) "thou hast not pardoned. (43) Thou hast made us as the offscouring and refuse in the midst of the people" (isn't that a pretty picture?)
Ahead a bit again, (55) "I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon. (56) Thou hast seen my wrong: judge thou my cause."
Proverbs gives words of wisdom, Psalms gives songs of praise and cries of sorrow... but Lamentations... it hits where we are weak, doesn't it? It shows this earthly daughter how pathetic and how very nothing she is in her own right... it humbles. There is a great need of humbling, though, isn't there? We get proud and sure of ourselves, easily looking the other way from our sins, seeing what we view as our righteous causes and conveniently forgetting our sinful struggles and failures. And then we read Lamentations - not by purpose of reading it, but because the Lord knows we need humbling. We need to slow down, stop, see the sin in our lives as the ugly canker that it truly is. To heartily apologize to the Lord for allllll of that sin weighing us down, and to ask Him to make us new in Him... again... and I do. I am a wretched sinner, and I bring my face to His feet and beg His mercy and forgiveness yet again. I do not deserve it, not by a long stretch, but still He offers it... freely... lovingly... willingly... and I gratefully accept.
Thank you, Lord.
But I digress...
Lamentations... it's a funny thing, really, because when I opened my Bible the other day, I intended to read in Proverbs. I believe the Lord had other plans for me, though, as I opened to a random page and the next page change landed me right smack dab in the middle of Lamentations. A verse jumped out at me and I read a bit, then a bit more, and then decided "hey, this is chapter three, I should go back and start at the beginning" - so I did.
Yes, I'm a rambler, you'll get used to it! ;)
Chapter three of Lamentations. The author of this book is moaning and, well, complaining. He sees his wretched state and feels abandoned by God. He hurts and he cries, and he feels alone. He is alone - and yet, he is not.
(17) "...he hath thrown down, and hath not pitied: and he hath caused thine enemy to rejoice over thee, he hath set up the horn of thine adversaries. (18) Their heart cried unto the Lord, O wall of the daughter of Zion, let tears run down like a river day and night: give thyself no rest: let not the apple of thine eye cease. (19) Arise, cry out in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart..."
OK, not exactly Proverbs, is it? and not exactly uplifting... but you know, it grabbed me - it was what I needed... to be humbled and reflect on the wretched state that is me. I am a sinner and there are sins that I battle with, and sometimes I don't even battle, I just freely give in to them - and then I feel guilty and wretched and wonder if God still is there. So very thankfully, I know He is - it isn't Him that walks away, is it? It's me... the sinner who turns her back on her faithful God to do or say or think unfaithful things... Convicting? Yes. True? Oh my, is it. And yet I keep reading...
Still chapter 3 of Lamentations - (21) "This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. (22) It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (23) They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."
That reminds me of a song from camp as a kid... oh the memories... oh the grace the Lord taught me there... but that's a rabbit trail best saved for another time. See? I'm learning...
I have hope - even in my sinful nature there is hope for better, for more... and it is new every morning! I might mess up terribly, but I can start fresh! Thank you, Lord, for that... You are far more forgiving than me - so far beyond seventy times seven...
Back to Lamentations - (25) "The Lord is good unto them that wair for him, to the soul that seeketh him... (28) He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him. (29) He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there many be hope. (30) He giveth his cheek to him that smitheth him: he is filled full with reproach. (31) For the Lord will not cast off forever: (32) but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies."
Skipping ahead just a bit (40) " Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. (41) Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens. (42) We have transgressed and have rebelled" (oh boy have I...) "thou hast not pardoned. (43) Thou hast made us as the offscouring and refuse in the midst of the people" (isn't that a pretty picture?)
Ahead a bit again, (55) "I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon. (56) Thou hast seen my wrong: judge thou my cause."
Proverbs gives words of wisdom, Psalms gives songs of praise and cries of sorrow... but Lamentations... it hits where we are weak, doesn't it? It shows this earthly daughter how pathetic and how very nothing she is in her own right... it humbles. There is a great need of humbling, though, isn't there? We get proud and sure of ourselves, easily looking the other way from our sins, seeing what we view as our righteous causes and conveniently forgetting our sinful struggles and failures. And then we read Lamentations - not by purpose of reading it, but because the Lord knows we need humbling. We need to slow down, stop, see the sin in our lives as the ugly canker that it truly is. To heartily apologize to the Lord for allllll of that sin weighing us down, and to ask Him to make us new in Him... again... and I do. I am a wretched sinner, and I bring my face to His feet and beg His mercy and forgiveness yet again. I do not deserve it, not by a long stretch, but still He offers it... freely... lovingly... willingly... and I gratefully accept.
Thank you, Lord.
Starting Off...
Hello!
If you don't know me, my name is Amy. I am a blessed mama to many precious children - 8 living on this earth and in my home, and 7 gone to be with the Lord whom I look forward to meeting someday in Heaven.
My husband is my dearest and long time best friend, he is active duty Air Force (and no, he doesn't fly planes, contrary to popular thought when people generally think of the USAF).
We are a homeschooling family, at present we are in our 11th year of homeschooling, not counting preschool - counting that, we'll claim 12 years of dedication toward our children's education and futures. :)
I titled this blog "Growing in Grace" because that is who, what, and where I am... a child of God, growing in His grace and unending mercies. I've made many mistakes in my life and have learned a great deal from those things, and thankfully have also made some good choices in life and have learned from those as well! The past is a painful thing at times, and a thing of pleasure and smiles at other times - and yet we know that God uses all of these things for our good when we love Him. I praise Him for His unending mercies, forgiveness, and long-suffering with his hard-headed and sometimes slow to learn child, and I am so very thankful for the life that He has so graciously gifted me with!
So, here we grow - most thankfully, in His grace.
If you don't know me, my name is Amy. I am a blessed mama to many precious children - 8 living on this earth and in my home, and 7 gone to be with the Lord whom I look forward to meeting someday in Heaven.
My husband is my dearest and long time best friend, he is active duty Air Force (and no, he doesn't fly planes, contrary to popular thought when people generally think of the USAF).
We are a homeschooling family, at present we are in our 11th year of homeschooling, not counting preschool - counting that, we'll claim 12 years of dedication toward our children's education and futures. :)
I titled this blog "Growing in Grace" because that is who, what, and where I am... a child of God, growing in His grace and unending mercies. I've made many mistakes in my life and have learned a great deal from those things, and thankfully have also made some good choices in life and have learned from those as well! The past is a painful thing at times, and a thing of pleasure and smiles at other times - and yet we know that God uses all of these things for our good when we love Him. I praise Him for His unending mercies, forgiveness, and long-suffering with his hard-headed and sometimes slow to learn child, and I am so very thankful for the life that He has so graciously gifted me with!
So, here we grow - most thankfully, in His grace.
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