If statistics mean anything, of the thirty readers who frequent this blog, approximately 3 might deal with unemployment in the coming year. I've come across two recent posts written by women who've gone through this in the last decade. I hope their words and wisdom bless you. I had tears in my eyes as I read both posts, and I found myself continuing nodding in agreement. What a blessing that these ladies took the time to recount their experiences.
Thankfulness Thursday - A post by Paula, from Paulas Ponderings
Each Thursday in November I am going to post something I am thankful for in celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday. I would love for you to do the same!
Today I am thankful for the gift of rest in the midst of turmoil.
Up until a few years ago, I worried over everything. My husband told me that if I didn't have something to worry about, I'd make something up. And he was right. I had no peace. I did not know how to truly trust. I could not rest.
And then for some crazy reason about 8 years ago, I decided to make my Scripture goal - "I have learned to be content in whatever situation I find myself in" (my paraphrase). Little did I know at the time that the Lord had that goal for me also.
Shortly after that declaration of my new Scripture goal, my husband was laid off from his job of over 20 years. Stress! Maximum stress! Now 7 1/2 years and much turmoil later, I understand trust. And I know how to go to sleep at night and truly rest. Our struggles are not over. My husband has had to start over in a new career when many are beginning to count down the years to retirement. But we have lost our retirement savings and live day-to-day, not knowing what the next month's commissions are going to be or how the bills will be paid. There is a song that says He gives "just enough light for the step I'm on." That's where we are.
-----------------------
My journal notes in December, 2003:
"I try so hard to lay it at the feet of Jesus, but fear gets the best of me. I live in a constant state of fear these days...Why can't I trust?? Why can't I shake this fear that controls my life?? I'm so tired and weary. It's taking too long...I know deep in my soul that the Lord is there and with us and will carry us through - is carrying us through. But I'm just so tired."
-----------------------
My journal notes a few months later in August, 2004:
"Thank You, Father, that I am reaching the point of thankfulness to You for Your teaching, for growing me deeper and deeper in Your love. Thank You, Father, for being more concerned with my character than my comfort. Thank You, Father, for taking my control from me. Through this I've learned to hand control over to You. Thank You, Father, for helping me to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself in ~ because You are there in the midst ~ in control. Thank You, Father, for helping me see that I have never had reason to fear, for You have always been my Provider, my Peace, my Comforter, even when I've not been so sure of it. Thank You, Father, because it's finally getting from my head to my heart. This could not have happened without trials to the point of despair, without learning to give up control, without learning to be content no matter the circumstance, without learning, through trials, to rest in You. It's all about You, Lord, it's all about You.
More of You, more of You. I've had it all, but what I need is more of You.
We have lost all monetary crutches, and have gained ~ You! We have no resources left to rely on ~ but we have You! Our assets have been cut in half, and we are left with You! You are truly all we need. Your faithfulness endures forever!"
-----------------------------
How does one rest in the midst of difficult circumstances? I believe it it simply something that must be learned. (Remember my Scripture goal? I have learned to be content...) It is not something that can be conjured up or willed into existence through clenched teeth and fists. Our trials help us grow. I wouldn't trade the past few years for anything. What a wonderful thing to finally be able to trust my Heavenly Father and rest in Him.
(And FYI - I still have my moments! Human!)
I hope this has not been too depressing as a Thanksgiving post! But I know that many are hurting during the holiday seasons each year and pray that the Lord will give His rest to each and every one. I would love to read your Thankfulness posts! Leave a comment and link to your blog if you have one.
Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8
"Father I pray for my dear sisters who are fearful and distressed during this Thanksgiving season. Show them Your peace...and teach them Your rest. Amen"
_________________________________________________
This next post comes from Kimberly, author of Adventures in Mothering. I found it in her Frugal Living category.
Paycuts stink, don't they?
Just about ten years ago, when my husband lost his job, and had to take a job with lowered pay, we felt pretty alone in the world, because no one else was going through that (that we knew, anyway). The tool and die industry, once a sure well-paying job not requiring a degree, was now forcing down pay in most of the skilled labor people that weren't working for a unionized shop. Hubby was back to making what he made 5 years earlier, and yet our expenses had gone up. Over the course of those years, he'd take more paycuts, and we'd have to pare it down further. I was not smiling, girls.
Well, I'm no longer alone. Maybe I got to walk through the wilderness to be an encouragement to others now, ten years later. I hope I can be an encouragement. It seems that the biggest "trend" in this job struggling recession thing is paycuts, according to this article. Now, it may seem like, "Well I live on that much money, why can't he?" but let me point something out to you....if you have been earning $100K, and suddenly you get cut down to $34K, that is a much harder adjustment than if you had been earning $34K all along. Trust me on that one...we've been there and done that.
Back when it happened to us, everyone seemed to say "Well, Martin needs to just look for a better job." (oh, sure...good idea...) or use it as an opportunity to remind me that I could get off my lazy behind and find a job too. You know how us stay home moms do nothing all day long but eat bon bons and watch the soaps. With five young children, there was no way for me to get a second job, even if I felt that God wanted us to do that. In prayer, God had made it clear that He was at work and that I was to press on. We both had peace about it.
Even more not-helpful was those money saving articles and books I'd read. Sometimes I'd get frustrated with them, because although it's good to plan, to save, to budget, to do all that is humanly possible for us to do...there comes this point in our lives when we reach the end of ourselves, and no matter how much we cut, we save, we scrimp, we eat rice and beans, and we do all of the other things we're supposed to do...we just can't do enough to stay above water.
Even with our padded emergency fund, our lower-than-pre-approved mortgage, and our savings accounts, as well as our debt paydown plan well underway, absorbing the loss of almost 2/3rds of our income was not an easy thing to do. You can't live on a fraction of your old income for too long even with emergency plans in place.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't cryng out to God, sometimes shaking my fist at Him, angry at His apparent betrayal of us. It was a frustrating time. Still is.
However, God poured out a blessing on us, first by teaching us that His blessings are not always financial. When he provides for us, it doesn't mean that my husband is going to get the pay raise he deserves, and be paid what his skill level demands. Sometimes it means that God gives us the GRACE to live one day at a time, and to gather our manna one day at a time.
By nature I think we are ungrateful. We don't like going out for manna every day. We like His provision to be clearly stated so that our sweet looking budget spreadsheet makes us look like we are being wise stewards, and so that everything fits in there neatly and cleanly. When you have a budget shortfall of a couple hundred a week, you can't really make a budget. It's funny though how, with God, and by faith, a budget that doesn't work on paper can often work in reality, and cause lots of provision to rain down like manna just as we need it.
A friend, sister in Christ, and blog reader from, what often seems like a galaxy far, far away (namely, somewhere in Central Africa) has told me that she finds the whole money management stuff that American and Western Christians obsess over to be really bewildering. On the one hand, she and I would both agree that God calls us to be faithful stewards of what He provides. On the other hand, we have become so fixed on providing for ourselves, managing our finances according to the world's best wisdom or following Bible money-management principles in our own flesh, and leaving our provider God out of our picture.
As I've pointed out in my book on this very topic, Thriving on One Income, God can provide through a paycheck, but He isn't limited to that. Martin's boss may pay him on Thursday, but God provides for us everyday. Lost most of your retirement savings? Yeah, join the club. Us too. Mortgage underwater even after a generous downpayment? Ditto. College savings fund have enough to buy one new textbook at a state university per child? We're there with you. Thankfully God is too. He knows our circumstances, and better than that, He knows our needs...not our wants...not our wishes...not our hopes...but our needs. He often will provide those hopes and wishes and wants too, of course...but He will take care of us.
The best part about times like these...all of the "stuff" that gets in our way of seeing God in the everyday, and all of the things that push what's really important aside fall away, and God is able to really grow us as people, as Christians, and as servants to the king. That's something to smile about.
Showing posts with label spiritual. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual. Show all posts
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
An Angel
It has been at least eight months since I've gone for a haircut. We can't technically afford it, but when the math ceases to work out and you rely on God for every single morsel, you honestly begin to believe he'll provide.
For instance, we can't afford a whole month of food either, and yet so far we've not gone hungry. Our van, our only vehicle, is twelve years old and has 156,000 miles on it. Buying a new, used van isn't an option, nor is repairing the one we've got, should it break down. I've worried about this over the past year, but now I've come to assume that God has a plan for our transportation needs. He knows Don can't work or get to school without a vehicle, and that we can't get to church without one. He knows our needs, before we pray about them.
Back to my hair. Assessing it this morning, I saw that the last four inches looked very unhealthy. I wanted to cry at the mess staring back at me.
I told my husband, "I've waited at least eight months. Do you think I can go get a quick, cheap haircut?"
My husband, whether good or bad, is beyond thinking we have any control over anything, so he just responded, "Sure."
So off I went on a mini retreat to the local Best Cuts, praying for a seasoned stylist, rather than one just out of school.
I sat for twenty-five minutes waiting for my turn. Relaxing doesn't begin to describe my experience there. As Anna's sleep issues worsen by the week, I have less and less time to unwind. My temper is often short, and I feel like I don't have control over anything. Or at least, control over the things that make up my agenda.
Today, I'm humbly reminded that
only His agenda matters.
Timothy, now six, was also an awful sleeper, leaving me little time during the day or evenings to accomplish anything. But, that kid is unquestionably a bit of a genius, so the all-night/day breastmilk diner just might have a purpose. I'm willing to go through it for another year, just in case. I think. Having at least two kids who practically homeschool themselves could benefit me for years--not to mention them. It just might be part of God's plan for my future sanity.
Anyhow, back to Best Cuts, and my mini retreat. After watching a very kind stylist cut an elderly gentleman's hair, smiling at him numerous times all the while, I thought, what a very gentle, sweet person she must be. She seemed to genuinely enjoy serving others. Not at all like cranky old me, who only wishes in my wildest dreams that I look that kind and gentle, as I serve others.
Finally, the gentleman left, and she cleaned up her area and made a personal-business phone call, prolonging my retreat. As she did these things, I just kept asking God for help. Help with my discouragement, help with my depression regarding aging, help with my motley crew of hyperactive children--lovable though they are, and help loving my over-studied, under-slept, extremely stressed out, cranky husband--lovable though he is.
In the next thirty minutes, as she cut my hair, she was like an angel in my midst. She told me how pretty my hair was (it's not), how healthy it was, and how 43 is not so old (it is). Can you tell my love language is affirming words?
Her oldest child, nearly 20, ventured out on his own, and is working on buying a house--one street away from her. She had him when she was 18, and what a wonderful job she did! You know you've done a good job when they want to live one street away!
I don't know much more of her story. She has a boyfriend and another son, aged fourteen. She is 38, and looks like my twin, only younger.
She was a friend to me, for those thirty minutes. I left encouraged, happier, less burdened, and less alone (somehow). It doesn't make sense, but that's how I felt. And when she gave me her card, I saw that she was the store manager. Thank you, God! LOL I got the best! She gave a great haircut, and she gave me tips on eventually buying a semi-permanent color, over-the-counter, to cover my white hairs.
Thank you God, for the angel of a person you put in my midst. Thank you for the gift of a haircut. Thank you for the lift in my spirits. Thank you for the friend. Thank you for allowing me the time away to be encouraged, so I can, in turn, encourage my children and my husband.
Thank you for always being there. For always providing. Everything.
For instance, we can't afford a whole month of food either, and yet so far we've not gone hungry. Our van, our only vehicle, is twelve years old and has 156,000 miles on it. Buying a new, used van isn't an option, nor is repairing the one we've got, should it break down. I've worried about this over the past year, but now I've come to assume that God has a plan for our transportation needs. He knows Don can't work or get to school without a vehicle, and that we can't get to church without one. He knows our needs, before we pray about them.
Back to my hair. Assessing it this morning, I saw that the last four inches looked very unhealthy. I wanted to cry at the mess staring back at me.
I told my husband, "I've waited at least eight months. Do you think I can go get a quick, cheap haircut?"
My husband, whether good or bad, is beyond thinking we have any control over anything, so he just responded, "Sure."
So off I went on a mini retreat to the local Best Cuts, praying for a seasoned stylist, rather than one just out of school.
I sat for twenty-five minutes waiting for my turn. Relaxing doesn't begin to describe my experience there. As Anna's sleep issues worsen by the week, I have less and less time to unwind. My temper is often short, and I feel like I don't have control over anything. Or at least, control over the things that make up my agenda.
Today, I'm humbly reminded that
only His agenda matters.
Timothy, now six, was also an awful sleeper, leaving me little time during the day or evenings to accomplish anything. But, that kid is unquestionably a bit of a genius, so the all-night/day breastmilk diner just might have a purpose. I'm willing to go through it for another year, just in case. I think. Having at least two kids who practically homeschool themselves could benefit me for years--not to mention them. It just might be part of God's plan for my future sanity.
Anyhow, back to Best Cuts, and my mini retreat. After watching a very kind stylist cut an elderly gentleman's hair, smiling at him numerous times all the while, I thought, what a very gentle, sweet person she must be. She seemed to genuinely enjoy serving others. Not at all like cranky old me, who only wishes in my wildest dreams that I look that kind and gentle, as I serve others.
Finally, the gentleman left, and she cleaned up her area and made a personal-business phone call, prolonging my retreat. As she did these things, I just kept asking God for help. Help with my discouragement, help with my depression regarding aging, help with my motley crew of hyperactive children--lovable though they are, and help loving my over-studied, under-slept, extremely stressed out, cranky husband--lovable though he is.
In the next thirty minutes, as she cut my hair, she was like an angel in my midst. She told me how pretty my hair was (it's not), how healthy it was, and how 43 is not so old (it is). Can you tell my love language is affirming words?
Her oldest child, nearly 20, ventured out on his own, and is working on buying a house--one street away from her. She had him when she was 18, and what a wonderful job she did! You know you've done a good job when they want to live one street away!
I don't know much more of her story. She has a boyfriend and another son, aged fourteen. She is 38, and looks like my twin, only younger.
She was a friend to me, for those thirty minutes. I left encouraged, happier, less burdened, and less alone (somehow). It doesn't make sense, but that's how I felt. And when she gave me her card, I saw that she was the store manager. Thank you, God! LOL I got the best! She gave a great haircut, and she gave me tips on eventually buying a semi-permanent color, over-the-counter, to cover my white hairs.
Thank you God, for the angel of a person you put in my midst. Thank you for the gift of a haircut. Thank you for the lift in my spirits. Thank you for the friend. Thank you for allowing me the time away to be encouraged, so I can, in turn, encourage my children and my husband.
Thank you for always being there. For always providing. Everything.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Solomon, Laughter, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
The above wisdom from Solomon in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 has been such a help to me over the years. We had been married only sixteen months when we buried our first baby, a boy we named Isaac Abraham. In those months of intense grief following his death, I would look at our wedding pictures and marvel at how happy and innocent we looked (even though we were 33 and 40 at the time). How could we have known the doom that would come upon us, just sixteen months later? As I mourned, I read this passage many times. It reminded me that the doom wouldn't last forever.
And it didn't; God was faithful. We knew joy again, and we knew we were richer for having wept.
After we became engaged, I wanted intimacy with my love so very much. But we waited. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but once again, these verses helped. I repeated over and over in my mind that there was "a time to embrace and a time to refrain".
Right now my husband in under intense pressure while he takes these extremely technical computer courses. There is massive reading and sometimes as many as twelve new terms to memorize on just two pages of text. He isn't sleeping much and he's a horrible, stressed-out grouch. The first exam should be taken in two weeks time, so that it's out of the way before they start a new topic--networking.
He can no longer help around here, so every detail of our lives has fallen on me. Cooking relaxes him so he insists on continuing with that for now. Going to the store alone (and blogging) are about the only relaxation activities I can grab, and even they have to be done quickly.
Once again, I've gone to Solomon's book for wisdom on how we might navigate these times.
What stands out at me now? "A time to be silent and a time to speak" and "A time to weep and a time to laugh".
The being silent part is necessary wisdom for me now because my husband is driving me crazy! Enough said there. I don't want to sound like a drippy faucet!
Laughter is an often overlooked tool in families with serious parents. We are guilty of overlooking it, and we simply can't make that mistake right now. I picked up Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, by Betty MacDonald, for 25 cents during a recent thrift store visit. Last night I began reading this treasure of a book to the children. Oh, how we laughed! It's a must-have read aloud!
Here is an excerpt:
The little girl's name was Mary Lou Robertson and she was eight years old and quite fat, and she was running away from home. She told Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle all this after she had drunk three cups of cambric tea and eaten seven sugar cookies. She said, "I'm running away from home because I hate to wash dishes. All I do is wash dishes. I am just a servant. Dishes! Dishes! Dishes! Wash, dry, put away. That's all I do. My mother doesn't love me at all. She isn't my real mother, anyway. She probably got me out of an orphanage just to wash her dishes." Mary Lou began to cry again, so that the eighth sugar cooky got quite soggy before she finished it.
Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle said, "Isn't she your real mother?"
Mary Lou said, "She says she is but no real mother would make you wash dishes. Wash dishes! Wash dishes!"
"Now that's a funny thing," said Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. "I mean your hating to wash dishes so much, because you see, I like to wash dishes. In fact I enjoy washing dishes so much that a cause of great sorrow to me is the fact that the only dishes I must wash are for Wag, Lightfoot and me (her dog and cat). Three or four dishes a meal, that is all."
In the next two pages Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle uses fantasy (a beautiful princess and a witch) to transform Mary Lou's hatred of dishes into a profound love of cleaning the whole kitchen, to perfection--dishes included.
I don't really like witches, but that part is a fraction of the whole book. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, once very lonely, becomes the best friend of all the area children. They come to play every day after school, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, in a Mary Poppin's kind of way, teaches them the lessons of life--without them having a hint of her motives. It's truly hilarious! My boys were mesmerized, and we all had fits of giggling.
Laughter, like exercise, chocolate and sex, releases those very important mood-elevating endorphins. I've learned that since laughter doesn't roll out of us naturally, I must consciously bring it into the house. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is our answer right now!
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
The above wisdom from Solomon in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 has been such a help to me over the years. We had been married only sixteen months when we buried our first baby, a boy we named Isaac Abraham. In those months of intense grief following his death, I would look at our wedding pictures and marvel at how happy and innocent we looked (even though we were 33 and 40 at the time). How could we have known the doom that would come upon us, just sixteen months later? As I mourned, I read this passage many times. It reminded me that the doom wouldn't last forever.
And it didn't; God was faithful. We knew joy again, and we knew we were richer for having wept.
After we became engaged, I wanted intimacy with my love so very much. But we waited. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but once again, these verses helped. I repeated over and over in my mind that there was "a time to embrace and a time to refrain".
Right now my husband in under intense pressure while he takes these extremely technical computer courses. There is massive reading and sometimes as many as twelve new terms to memorize on just two pages of text. He isn't sleeping much and he's a horrible, stressed-out grouch. The first exam should be taken in two weeks time, so that it's out of the way before they start a new topic--networking.
He can no longer help around here, so every detail of our lives has fallen on me. Cooking relaxes him so he insists on continuing with that for now. Going to the store alone (and blogging) are about the only relaxation activities I can grab, and even they have to be done quickly.
Once again, I've gone to Solomon's book for wisdom on how we might navigate these times.
What stands out at me now? "A time to be silent and a time to speak" and "A time to weep and a time to laugh".
The being silent part is necessary wisdom for me now because my husband is driving me crazy! Enough said there. I don't want to sound like a drippy faucet!
Laughter is an often overlooked tool in families with serious parents. We are guilty of overlooking it, and we simply can't make that mistake right now. I picked up Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, by Betty MacDonald, for 25 cents during a recent thrift store visit. Last night I began reading this treasure of a book to the children. Oh, how we laughed! It's a must-have read aloud!
Here is an excerpt:
The little girl's name was Mary Lou Robertson and she was eight years old and quite fat, and she was running away from home. She told Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle all this after she had drunk three cups of cambric tea and eaten seven sugar cookies. She said, "I'm running away from home because I hate to wash dishes. All I do is wash dishes. I am just a servant. Dishes! Dishes! Dishes! Wash, dry, put away. That's all I do. My mother doesn't love me at all. She isn't my real mother, anyway. She probably got me out of an orphanage just to wash her dishes." Mary Lou began to cry again, so that the eighth sugar cooky got quite soggy before she finished it.
Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle said, "Isn't she your real mother?"
Mary Lou said, "She says she is but no real mother would make you wash dishes. Wash dishes! Wash dishes!"
"Now that's a funny thing," said Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. "I mean your hating to wash dishes so much, because you see, I like to wash dishes. In fact I enjoy washing dishes so much that a cause of great sorrow to me is the fact that the only dishes I must wash are for Wag, Lightfoot and me (her dog and cat). Three or four dishes a meal, that is all."
In the next two pages Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle uses fantasy (a beautiful princess and a witch) to transform Mary Lou's hatred of dishes into a profound love of cleaning the whole kitchen, to perfection--dishes included.
I don't really like witches, but that part is a fraction of the whole book. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, once very lonely, becomes the best friend of all the area children. They come to play every day after school, and Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, in a Mary Poppin's kind of way, teaches them the lessons of life--without them having a hint of her motives. It's truly hilarious! My boys were mesmerized, and we all had fits of giggling.
Laughter, like exercise, chocolate and sex, releases those very important mood-elevating endorphins. I've learned that since laughter doesn't roll out of us naturally, I must consciously bring it into the house. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is our answer right now!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
words of wisdom for a slump
I managed to get way behind in blog reading. Relaxing and catching up a little, I came across a great post from the Large Family Mothering blog. I have pasted a portion of the post below. Lots of wisdom to be found in these words!
Caveat: I'm not a fan of the Quiverfull Movement, as this blog author is (15 children), but I do enjoy most of her posts, nonetheless. Quiverfull Christians feel that every Christian family should have as many children as God allows. While they are entitled to believe this and band together, I think it's a devisive, distracting movement in the Christian church. Andrea Yates, the mother who killed her five children due to post-partum psychosis, was a member of this movement, although the movement tries to distance itself from Andrea's story. In my mind, Andrea's story is an example of why we mustn't burden Christians with extra-Scriptural rules. Scripture says to be fruitful and multiple, but it doesn't say how many times, or for how long. Regardless of how we personally interpret the word "fruitful", we can't try to define it for another family. It goes both ways, in terms of the passing judgment; large families are judged frequently too.
Anyhow, I glean much from this blog author's hard-fought wisdom, so I overlook the whole Quiverfull matter. Her life hasn't been easy (raised in a broken, non-Christian home), but her heart is on fire for the Lord. She adores her husband and children, and her posts reflect wisdom, humility, and strength. Their family recently emerged out of many months of joblessness.
Here is the excerpt from her post:
____________________________________________
Depression, loneliness, and fear are the weapons the enemy wields. I know from experience just how heavy the burden can be. I understand just what it means to be completely demoralized and hopeless.
I have learned that we need to be like the builders of the wall of Jerusalem; working while ready with weapons.
And our weapons are not worldly, but Heavenly powerful. They are as follows:
The Word of God
Thankfulness
Praise
Prayer
Singing
If we want to fight effectively, we must be in the Word day and night. Only the Word of God can change our old patterns of thinking. It is cleansing and refreshing.
Being thankful keeps us from being darkened in our minds. There is nothing as hateful as being in the presence of someone who sees everything as being half-empty. And be ye thankful is a commandment that we must take seriously; even for bad things, trusting that God will turn them into good, according to Romans 8:28.
Praising and magnifying the Lord is the way we must live. There are too many voices that tell us that God is small, irrelevant or non-existent. When we adore and magnify the Lord, all those other voices are silenced and great courage rises up in our hearts. We are obeying the MOST HIGH! Once praise in practiced, it is like we become energized with a bolt of lightening so that everything we do becomes lighter and we experience true joy.
We must learn to pray, and often. This prayer is the type that your whole life is a communion and conversation with the Holy Spirit. Wonder what to do about a disciplinary problem? Pray. Wonder how to stretch the budget? Pray. Wonder how to keep from blowing your top with your husband? Pray. And pray expectantly—He loves to answer these prayers for us.
Lastly, singing is something that will boost yourself and your whole household. This is something mankind has done from the beginning. When we sing, we engage our whole being, and we cause our minds and emotions to be engaged in agreement to the new spirit God has created within us. I have found scripture songs to be the most effective in giving me strength, direction and courage throughout the day. I have read accounts of saints that were raised by Godly mothers who had this practice of singing, and this is one of their fondest memories.
Father, you know that I am weak, and you know that I cannot do this work without You today. Like King David, help me to encourage myself through Your word and sing songs to You in praise and thanksgiving. May it not only lighten my heart, but the hearts of my husband and children. There is so much heaviness and so many attacks; be our refuge and strong tower today as we bless Your name.
In the name of Your precious Son, Jesus.
Amen
Posted by ladyofvirtue at 5:59 AM
Caveat: I'm not a fan of the Quiverfull Movement, as this blog author is (15 children), but I do enjoy most of her posts, nonetheless. Quiverfull Christians feel that every Christian family should have as many children as God allows. While they are entitled to believe this and band together, I think it's a devisive, distracting movement in the Christian church. Andrea Yates, the mother who killed her five children due to post-partum psychosis, was a member of this movement, although the movement tries to distance itself from Andrea's story. In my mind, Andrea's story is an example of why we mustn't burden Christians with extra-Scriptural rules. Scripture says to be fruitful and multiple, but it doesn't say how many times, or for how long. Regardless of how we personally interpret the word "fruitful", we can't try to define it for another family. It goes both ways, in terms of the passing judgment; large families are judged frequently too.
Anyhow, I glean much from this blog author's hard-fought wisdom, so I overlook the whole Quiverfull matter. Her life hasn't been easy (raised in a broken, non-Christian home), but her heart is on fire for the Lord. She adores her husband and children, and her posts reflect wisdom, humility, and strength. Their family recently emerged out of many months of joblessness.
Here is the excerpt from her post:
____________________________________________
Depression, loneliness, and fear are the weapons the enemy wields. I know from experience just how heavy the burden can be. I understand just what it means to be completely demoralized and hopeless.
I have learned that we need to be like the builders of the wall of Jerusalem; working while ready with weapons.
And our weapons are not worldly, but Heavenly powerful. They are as follows:
The Word of God
Thankfulness
Praise
Prayer
Singing
If we want to fight effectively, we must be in the Word day and night. Only the Word of God can change our old patterns of thinking. It is cleansing and refreshing.
Being thankful keeps us from being darkened in our minds. There is nothing as hateful as being in the presence of someone who sees everything as being half-empty. And be ye thankful is a commandment that we must take seriously; even for bad things, trusting that God will turn them into good, according to Romans 8:28.
Praising and magnifying the Lord is the way we must live. There are too many voices that tell us that God is small, irrelevant or non-existent. When we adore and magnify the Lord, all those other voices are silenced and great courage rises up in our hearts. We are obeying the MOST HIGH! Once praise in practiced, it is like we become energized with a bolt of lightening so that everything we do becomes lighter and we experience true joy.
We must learn to pray, and often. This prayer is the type that your whole life is a communion and conversation with the Holy Spirit. Wonder what to do about a disciplinary problem? Pray. Wonder how to stretch the budget? Pray. Wonder how to keep from blowing your top with your husband? Pray. And pray expectantly—He loves to answer these prayers for us.
Lastly, singing is something that will boost yourself and your whole household. This is something mankind has done from the beginning. When we sing, we engage our whole being, and we cause our minds and emotions to be engaged in agreement to the new spirit God has created within us. I have found scripture songs to be the most effective in giving me strength, direction and courage throughout the day. I have read accounts of saints that were raised by Godly mothers who had this practice of singing, and this is one of their fondest memories.
Father, you know that I am weak, and you know that I cannot do this work without You today. Like King David, help me to encourage myself through Your word and sing songs to You in praise and thanksgiving. May it not only lighten my heart, but the hearts of my husband and children. There is so much heaviness and so many attacks; be our refuge and strong tower today as we bless Your name.
In the name of Your precious Son, Jesus.
Amen
Posted by ladyofvirtue at 5:59 AM
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
thankful
I just finished listening to Daniel read in his second-grade Bob Jones reading book. Some Christian curriculum companies charge a lot of money and merely put Bible verses (in small print) on some of their pages. I think it's rather disingenuous to sell that as Christian curriculum.
Bob Jones University Press does more than that. A good portion of the stories in the reader are Christian stories, like today's Billy Sunday story. It was about a little girl who went to a tent meeting with her father to hear Billy Sunday preach. Her father told her about Billy Sunday's successful baseball career, and about how God had a special plan for Billy Sunday's life. Listening to Billy Sunday that evening, the little girl was prompted to accept Christ as her Savior.
On their way home, her father assured her that God had a special plan for her life, just as He did for Billy Sunday's. Daniel and I both had tears in our eyes by the end of the story. And this isn't the first story that has moved us to tears. My Daniel always looks up at me and smiles when he sees that the story of the day is a Christian story.
I am just so thankful to be homeschooling my children. And thankful we chose Bob Jones for our curriculum! My prayer is that we will always have the freedom to educate our own children, and point them toward their Savior.
Bob Jones University Press does more than that. A good portion of the stories in the reader are Christian stories, like today's Billy Sunday story. It was about a little girl who went to a tent meeting with her father to hear Billy Sunday preach. Her father told her about Billy Sunday's successful baseball career, and about how God had a special plan for Billy Sunday's life. Listening to Billy Sunday that evening, the little girl was prompted to accept Christ as her Savior.
On their way home, her father assured her that God had a special plan for her life, just as He did for Billy Sunday's. Daniel and I both had tears in our eyes by the end of the story. And this isn't the first story that has moved us to tears. My Daniel always looks up at me and smiles when he sees that the story of the day is a Christian story.
I am just so thankful to be homeschooling my children. And thankful we chose Bob Jones for our curriculum! My prayer is that we will always have the freedom to educate our own children, and point them toward their Savior.
Friday, October 2, 2009
another perspective
The other book I checked out at the library is entitled The ADD Answer, How To Help Your Child Now, by Dr. Frank Lawlis. I've just read sixty pages of it. It is much different from the other book--featured in yesterday's post--in that it is anti-medication, pro-psychology, and pro whole-child/whole-family care. Much is included regarding the psychological ramifications of labels (ADD/ADHD, etc), including their affect on the whole family. After reading these sixty pages, I'm ready to give up on the medication route, at least for a time. This author presents a very convincing case against medication.
Needless to say, my mind is full, and my spirit is troubled.
It's easy to say that medication should only be used in the worst of cases, when learning is affected, and then only for short periods of time. But inattentiveness isn't the only problem. The impulsivity of AD/HD makes Daniel a danger to himself and to his siblings. For example, I only allow him to be alone with the baby when she's in her playpen. If she is playing in the living room, I allow Daniel around her only if we are there to supervise. This isn't because he is mean or aggressive. Rather, it is because he is too physical, with frenzied, uncontrolled movements. While medicated, his physical movements are more controlled and predictable. I can walk away and not worry about what he might do. And, he receives far less negative feedback while medicated, because we're not having to harp on the multitude of things he needs to stop doing.
Incidentally, Emily Rose received her forehead scar and stitches earlier this year because Daniel was carrying her and impulsively dropped her, even though he had the strength to set her down gently. He never picked her up again after the accident, thank God. I'm relieved that he received this wake up call before something more serious happened.
I think the outcome for AD/HD children depends more on the feedback they receive from their families than anything else--including what their report cards say. We know that for every one negative interaction, they need ten positives to overcome the pervasive feeling of failure. But the tricky part is that it's nearly impossible to come up with that many positives, due to the annoying characteristics they display. Perhaps if the AD/HD child were the only child in the home, meeting their weighty emotional needs would be a relative breeze.
Right now, I feel very human--flawed, powerless, and defeated. I'm not a relaxed or good enough parent to give him what he needs. The anti-medication crowd gives compelling arguments--I'll give them that. When I read their writings, I desperately want to throw out everything in my medicine cupboard. Their modifications and interventions all sound very good on paper, but implementing them consistently in daily life, in moment-to-moment interactions, is another matter altogether.
I hate medication. I just hate it. It scares me that the safety testing for AD/HD drugs has been done on rats and on adult humans. It's a huge gamble to assume they're safe for most children.
Tonight, all I know for certain is one thing--the outcomes for Daniel's life are up to God. The more I try to make them up to me, the greater my disservice to my son.
Needless to say, my mind is full, and my spirit is troubled.
It's easy to say that medication should only be used in the worst of cases, when learning is affected, and then only for short periods of time. But inattentiveness isn't the only problem. The impulsivity of AD/HD makes Daniel a danger to himself and to his siblings. For example, I only allow him to be alone with the baby when she's in her playpen. If she is playing in the living room, I allow Daniel around her only if we are there to supervise. This isn't because he is mean or aggressive. Rather, it is because he is too physical, with frenzied, uncontrolled movements. While medicated, his physical movements are more controlled and predictable. I can walk away and not worry about what he might do. And, he receives far less negative feedback while medicated, because we're not having to harp on the multitude of things he needs to stop doing.
Incidentally, Emily Rose received her forehead scar and stitches earlier this year because Daniel was carrying her and impulsively dropped her, even though he had the strength to set her down gently. He never picked her up again after the accident, thank God. I'm relieved that he received this wake up call before something more serious happened.
I think the outcome for AD/HD children depends more on the feedback they receive from their families than anything else--including what their report cards say. We know that for every one negative interaction, they need ten positives to overcome the pervasive feeling of failure. But the tricky part is that it's nearly impossible to come up with that many positives, due to the annoying characteristics they display. Perhaps if the AD/HD child were the only child in the home, meeting their weighty emotional needs would be a relative breeze.
Right now, I feel very human--flawed, powerless, and defeated. I'm not a relaxed or good enough parent to give him what he needs. The anti-medication crowd gives compelling arguments--I'll give them that. When I read their writings, I desperately want to throw out everything in my medicine cupboard. Their modifications and interventions all sound very good on paper, but implementing them consistently in daily life, in moment-to-moment interactions, is another matter altogether.
I hate medication. I just hate it. It scares me that the safety testing for AD/HD drugs has been done on rats and on adult humans. It's a huge gamble to assume they're safe for most children.
Tonight, all I know for certain is one thing--the outcomes for Daniel's life are up to God. The more I try to make them up to me, the greater my disservice to my son.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
humbled by the error of my ways
Overheard in my dining room this morning:
Timothy (coming in from outdoor play, and looking carefully around the dining room): "Who's coming over?"
Momma: "No one. Why?"
Timothy (taking off his shoes): "Then why is the house so clean?"
I am humbled by this, knowing that for four years, my house has been disheveled--except when guests were expected. Now that my new sleep schedule has commenced, I am able to keep up nicely. I'm ashamed to admit that in the past I used my children as an excuse. Yes, they keep me busy, but I still could have been a decent homemaker, loving them abundantly and consistently all the while.
I'm sorry Lord. From now on, my best only.
Other tidbit: My Anna Grace (9 months) is walking everywhere! Camera seems broken. Hoping new batteries will do the trick, but I doubt it. The batteries are fairly new.
Timothy (coming in from outdoor play, and looking carefully around the dining room): "Who's coming over?"
Momma: "No one. Why?"
Timothy (taking off his shoes): "Then why is the house so clean?"
I am humbled by this, knowing that for four years, my house has been disheveled--except when guests were expected. Now that my new sleep schedule has commenced, I am able to keep up nicely. I'm ashamed to admit that in the past I used my children as an excuse. Yes, they keep me busy, but I still could have been a decent homemaker, loving them abundantly and consistently all the while.
I'm sorry Lord. From now on, my best only.
Other tidbit: My Anna Grace (9 months) is walking everywhere! Camera seems broken. Hoping new batteries will do the trick, but I doubt it. The batteries are fairly new.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
obsessions
The Holy Spirit really got to me yesterday, and then again this morning. I'm afraid it's related to helping Timothy self regulate his computer and TV screen time. I can't teach him with any integrity if I don't first start regulating my own problem with the screen.
TV isn't a problem for me; I only watch Fox News as I do my late-night kitchen cleaning. That's it. And it isn't blogging or reading blogs that trips me up.
IT'S E-MAIL! I check my e-mail more times than I can count. It has become a nervous habit, probably mostly associated with checking for comments after blog posts. It's so nice when people comment, ya know?
However, this checking obsession takes my focus off of very important pursuits; namely, properly loving my family--with the "love" being a verb.
As with any temptation, God always provides a way out. I have disabled any new commenting on this blog. If you need to contact me, my e-mail address is listed in the "about me" section. Setting the blog up this way makes it far less likely that I'll check my e-mail multiple times. Composing an e-mail is a lot more work than adding a comment to a post, so I know people probably won't bother, unless it's important.
I feel so silly having to do this, but I don't think the Holy Spirit is giving me an option. Thanks for all the help you've sent through comments...and the love. Both have meant a lot to me!
So, I hope we're still friends. Okay? I like to comment on your blogs, so I'll still do that. And Liz, please start that blog!
TV isn't a problem for me; I only watch Fox News as I do my late-night kitchen cleaning. That's it. And it isn't blogging or reading blogs that trips me up.
IT'S E-MAIL! I check my e-mail more times than I can count. It has become a nervous habit, probably mostly associated with checking for comments after blog posts. It's so nice when people comment, ya know?
However, this checking obsession takes my focus off of very important pursuits; namely, properly loving my family--with the "love" being a verb.
As with any temptation, God always provides a way out. I have disabled any new commenting on this blog. If you need to contact me, my e-mail address is listed in the "about me" section. Setting the blog up this way makes it far less likely that I'll check my e-mail multiple times. Composing an e-mail is a lot more work than adding a comment to a post, so I know people probably won't bother, unless it's important.
I feel so silly having to do this, but I don't think the Holy Spirit is giving me an option. Thanks for all the help you've sent through comments...and the love. Both have meant a lot to me!
So, I hope we're still friends. Okay? I like to comment on your blogs, so I'll still do that. And Liz, please start that blog!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
a telling breakfast
At the breakfast table:
Momma: "Timothy, since you're almost six now, I think you need to try milk with your cereal, as well as other new foods. It is easier and faster to eat cereal with milk, and it tastes better. We're starting school on Monday and breakfast needs to go faster."
Timothy (in aggravated, whiny voice): "But I don't like milk!" (He only drinks the Nestle Quick kind of chocolate milk.)
Momma: "I know you get scared about trying new foods. When you're scared, ask Jesus for help with bravery. And I will start praying more about your diet. You are missing too many fruits and vegetables. They help you live with less pain and less suffering."
Timothy: (Whining) "But I don't like Jesus anymore. And I don't like doing that Bible study anymore. I stopped listening. Jesus makes me feel like I always have to work. I want to play all day!" (No, I didn't make this stuff up. This kid is wrestling with God. What a telling statement his last one is (in bold). We all want our own way, don't we?)
Momma: "I see a lot of evidence that you love Jesus. And I see evidence every day that Jesus is working in your heart. What about when you dance with Mommy, to the Jesus songs on the radio? That makes you so very happy!"
Timothy: "But I can't see Jesus."
Momma: "Faith is believing in things we cannot see. God puts faith in our hearts. You don't have to try to believe. God will do the work."
Timothy: "But I don't believe in ANYTHING I can't see!" (Man, he's precocious, I'm saying to myself.)
Momma: "It's true that we don't see Jesus. But we see evidence that he is here. When Daniel aggravates you and makes you so very mad, you are patient with him and you always forgive him quickly. That is God--the Holy Spirit--working in your heart. On our own, we don't forgive people easily; sometimes we don't forgive and forget at all."
(He was still listening intently, so I kept going.) "And when a caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, you can see Jesus through that. Something as wonderful as that doesn't happen by accident. The world is too beautiful and too perfect to be an accident."
"The comfort Jesus provides us is another bit of evidence that he exists. We can only comfort ourselves in ways that don't last--like with a new toy, a piece of chocolate cake, a cold drink, or a blanket. Jesus comforts us in our hearts and minds, and it lasts--if we don't get distracted from him. And he provides for our needs."
An aside: If you're wondering why some people starve to death, I think the answer is that God put enough food on the earth--he continues to do so--but we fail to share it. We don't do our part. It's a mystery why God allows us to continue to turn our backs on the hungry of the world. Governmental corruption in starving countries certainly contributes--the logistics are complicated. We can't put a military presence in every corrupt country. But we can send more food via missionaries, via planes, etc. More can be done, even though some of the food will end up in corrupt hands. Just feeding hungry people makes it more likely that they'll rise up against the corruption--on their own. We can even contribute more to the starving in our own country--via food banks, soup kitchens, etc. I submit to you that we are too comfortable. Sometimes, being comfortable is wrong, but only insofar as it blinds us to another's hunger--whether that hunger be physical or spiritual.
Just being somewhat uncomfortable for the past several months has opened my eyes greatly. I welcome more discomfort. I don't want blindness. I suspect God is growing me into a missionary.
Timothy: "But I want to see him."
My preaching ended there. Timothy is a mathematician. A scientist. He might always struggle with belief. There's no doubt in my mind that he loves Jesus; the last six months have brought too much evidence. Just the fact that he is uncomfortable--from the workings of the holy spirit, no doubt--is strong evidence. Spiritual growth is never comfortable.
The most important task now is to make sure the Gospel of grace is getting through.
Momma: "Timothy, since you're almost six now, I think you need to try milk with your cereal, as well as other new foods. It is easier and faster to eat cereal with milk, and it tastes better. We're starting school on Monday and breakfast needs to go faster."
Timothy (in aggravated, whiny voice): "But I don't like milk!" (He only drinks the Nestle Quick kind of chocolate milk.)
Momma: "I know you get scared about trying new foods. When you're scared, ask Jesus for help with bravery. And I will start praying more about your diet. You are missing too many fruits and vegetables. They help you live with less pain and less suffering."
Timothy: (Whining) "But I don't like Jesus anymore. And I don't like doing that Bible study anymore. I stopped listening. Jesus makes me feel like I always have to work. I want to play all day!" (No, I didn't make this stuff up. This kid is wrestling with God. What a telling statement his last one is (in bold). We all want our own way, don't we?)
Momma: "I see a lot of evidence that you love Jesus. And I see evidence every day that Jesus is working in your heart. What about when you dance with Mommy, to the Jesus songs on the radio? That makes you so very happy!"
Timothy: "But I can't see Jesus."
Momma: "Faith is believing in things we cannot see. God puts faith in our hearts. You don't have to try to believe. God will do the work."
Timothy: "But I don't believe in ANYTHING I can't see!" (Man, he's precocious, I'm saying to myself.)
Momma: "It's true that we don't see Jesus. But we see evidence that he is here. When Daniel aggravates you and makes you so very mad, you are patient with him and you always forgive him quickly. That is God--the Holy Spirit--working in your heart. On our own, we don't forgive people easily; sometimes we don't forgive and forget at all."
(He was still listening intently, so I kept going.) "And when a caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, you can see Jesus through that. Something as wonderful as that doesn't happen by accident. The world is too beautiful and too perfect to be an accident."
"The comfort Jesus provides us is another bit of evidence that he exists. We can only comfort ourselves in ways that don't last--like with a new toy, a piece of chocolate cake, a cold drink, or a blanket. Jesus comforts us in our hearts and minds, and it lasts--if we don't get distracted from him. And he provides for our needs."
An aside: If you're wondering why some people starve to death, I think the answer is that God put enough food on the earth--he continues to do so--but we fail to share it. We don't do our part. It's a mystery why God allows us to continue to turn our backs on the hungry of the world. Governmental corruption in starving countries certainly contributes--the logistics are complicated. We can't put a military presence in every corrupt country. But we can send more food via missionaries, via planes, etc. More can be done, even though some of the food will end up in corrupt hands. Just feeding hungry people makes it more likely that they'll rise up against the corruption--on their own. We can even contribute more to the starving in our own country--via food banks, soup kitchens, etc. I submit to you that we are too comfortable. Sometimes, being comfortable is wrong, but only insofar as it blinds us to another's hunger--whether that hunger be physical or spiritual.
Just being somewhat uncomfortable for the past several months has opened my eyes greatly. I welcome more discomfort. I don't want blindness. I suspect God is growing me into a missionary.
Timothy: "But I want to see him."
My preaching ended there. Timothy is a mathematician. A scientist. He might always struggle with belief. There's no doubt in my mind that he loves Jesus; the last six months have brought too much evidence. Just the fact that he is uncomfortable--from the workings of the holy spirit, no doubt--is strong evidence. Spiritual growth is never comfortable.
The most important task now is to make sure the Gospel of grace is getting through.
Friday, September 11, 2009
looking up
Mommy and Daddy were lost in very earthly, worried thoughts this morning. God used our children to snap us out of it.
Emily picked up a small, old Bible off the end table. She held it up and asked, "Old?" "Yes", I replied, thinking that Daddy must have told her which Bibles she could handle.
Emily opened it up, turned to a random page, and pointed at some words, saying, "God loves me."
Daddy talked about going out for a prayer walk. Then he looked at the clock and realized that he'd probably better get his shower. He needed to leave for school at 12 noon today. Talking to himself, he said, "I don't know what I should do. I guess prayer is more important."
Daniel, hearing this, and wanting to go with Daddy on the prayer walk, said, "Yes, there's nothing more important than prayer. Not in the whole world. Ever."
So there you have it. A good kick in the pants via our 2 and 7 year-olds. God loves us. And there's nothing more important than prayer. Any questions?
No, Lord. I think that just about covers it. Thank you.
The day is looking up.
Emily picked up a small, old Bible off the end table. She held it up and asked, "Old?" "Yes", I replied, thinking that Daddy must have told her which Bibles she could handle.
Emily opened it up, turned to a random page, and pointed at some words, saying, "God loves me."
Daddy talked about going out for a prayer walk. Then he looked at the clock and realized that he'd probably better get his shower. He needed to leave for school at 12 noon today. Talking to himself, he said, "I don't know what I should do. I guess prayer is more important."
Daniel, hearing this, and wanting to go with Daddy on the prayer walk, said, "Yes, there's nothing more important than prayer. Not in the whole world. Ever."
So there you have it. A good kick in the pants via our 2 and 7 year-olds. God loves us. And there's nothing more important than prayer. Any questions?
No, Lord. I think that just about covers it. Thank you.
The day is looking up.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Hope - Julie Lessman
Our fridge, purchased at a used applicance place for $200 four years ago, quit working yesterday. My father came to the rescue, purchasing us a new, bottom of the line 20.9 cubic-feet fridge made by Whirlpool. The manufacturer estimates it will last two to ten years. It happens to be the exact same model we bought used, which never made it to ten years for us, or for the original owners--not even combined. I think I'd better start praying over this fridge.
I'm discouraged about my dad having to help us out. Consequently, I don't have anything good to say today. But I found the post pasted below on The Seekers blog. I thought it might perk you up nicely today. It's about hope. Stay with it--it's a good story no matter where you're at in your life.
_______________________________________________
Author - Julie Lessman
“Are you okay?” Someone shook me hard. I lay there, unable to speak, eyes welded closed.
“Are you okay” the voice came again, louder this time, more insistent. No answer. I felt the press of fingers to my pulse followed by a quick sweep of my mouth, clearing all obstructions. With a pinch of my nose, someone began to breathe life into me while a gentle hand compressed against my chest, finger on my heart …
Okay, just for the record—I did not choke on a piece of chicken at an American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference or ever have to be resuscitated in any way. Uh … that is … at least not physically. But emotionally and spiritually? Yep, I was a goner. Cried enough tears that I thought the housekeeping staff would think I was heisting their Kleenex. But something amazing happened to me at the very first ACFW conference I ever attended—I received CPR in a very unlikely manner, and I gotta tell ya, folks—it saved my life. So I thought since we are less than a week out from this year’s ACFW conference in Denver, it might behoove me to share about this life-saving experience I received when the Holy Spirit administered a heavy dose of truly miraculous CPR—Cry, Pray, Repent.
Oh, how I wish, wish WISH someone had told me what I’m about to tell you before I went to my very first writers conference in Houston, Texas in 2003. It was the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference, only back then, it was ACRW, American Christian Romance Writers. I went by myself without knowing a soul, which is a hard thing to do, as so many of you are aware. Up until that point, I had done everything I could to put me on the path to publication—took fiction-writing courses at the community college, attended small writing seminars and local RWA chapter meetings, queried publishers until I was blue in the face, and entered contests until I was in hock over binder clips.
I knew in my gut that the time had come for me to venture far from home and interface with other writers of my ilk. I mean how difficult could this be? Although by nature I am a recluse of sorts, I have the misfortune of having an outgoing personality, so the word “shy” just isn’t part of my vocabulary. So I smiled and mixed and mingled until my teeth ached and made a lot of acquaintances, but no real “friend” that I felt I could connect with. Everything felt surface to me, and it seemed like everybody I spoke to was either published, had an agent, a contract in the works or fulls being considered.
That night I cried on the phone to my husband, and I’m talking major sobbing! I told him I felt lonely and jealous and like publication would never happen for me. He comforted me and prayed with me and told me everything would all right.
But it wasn’t. The next day I would attend a seminar, then go up to my room and cry, clean my face and go back down to smile some more. That went on all day as the loneliness and jealousy seemed to grow, and that night my poor husband got another earful of long-distance weeping. God love him, he prayed for me and encouraged me and told me to put my hope in God. Yeah, right, I thought to myself at the time, and how is that going to change these waterworks? That night I cried myself to sleep, rivers of tears seeping into my pillow.
What happened next is nothing short of supernatural. The next morning, even before my eyelids peeled open, my brain was pelted with hope scriptures in rapid-fire succession:
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. - Romans 15:12-14
And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. - Romans 5:4-6
No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame. - Psalm 25:2-4
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. - Psalm 62:4-6
But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more. - Psalm 71:13-15
Now, first of all, I wasn’t aware that I even knew that many hope scriptures. In fact, they shocked me so much, that my eyes popped open and I lunged for the Gideon Bible inside the nightstand drawer. I flipped it open to the first few pages where they list scriptures by subject and scanned the list for “Hope.” It wasn’t there, so I settled on the scripture for “Fear.” There were only two, mind you, and I quickly paged to the first one: Hebrews 13:5.
Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
Come again? What does fear or lack of hope have to do with covetousness and ingratitude? Give me a break, the Gideons have TONS of scriptures to choose from and they choose this???? I blinked several times … and then the Holy Spirit nailed my butt to the wall.
I had spent the last two days of this expensive conference doing NOTHING but coveting other writers’ success and complaining that it would never happen for me. My husband had forked over $800 bucks (airfare, hotel room, conference fee) so I could fly to Houston and instead of being grateful, I was utterly lonely and jealous. Talk about a one-two punch! I fell to my knees and sobbed again, only this time my tears were tears of repentance. I told God I was sorry for being such a brat, and I prayed for every woman that I had been jealous of, that God would bless the socks off of them. I asked Him to change my attitude and give me hope and help me not to be lonely the rest of the conference.
For the umpteenth time that weekend, I cleaned up my face, put on my name badge and squared my shoulders to go downstairs. The elevator opened, and I flashed a smile to the couple in the back and turned to face the door. The woman gently tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You’re from St. Louis? I live in Illinois, just twenty minutes across the river.”
I turned around and will NEVER forget the look of kindness and warmth in that woman’s eyes—like an angel sent from God. She was an ACFW author named Diana Brandmeyer (who, by the way, has a GREAT new book coming out with Barbour next January entitled Hearts on the Road, so check it out on her website at http://brandmeyer.homestead.com/). Anyway, she invited me to sit with her and her husband for breakfast. Trust me, conference food had never tasted so good!
Later that day, there was a contest for book giveaways. You simply had to write about someone who had positively affected you at the conference so far, and if the ACFW Master of Ceremonies (Brandilyn, of course!) picked your comments out of the hat, the person you wrote about won a free book. My eyes smarted with tears as I dashed a quick note about the kind woman in the elevator “whose eyes radiated love and warmth—Diana Brandmeyer.”
If you can believe it, out of over 350 women and like 2 men (grin), Brandilyn picked a handful of notes to read, and one of them was the note I had written about Diana, which referred to her “eyes full of love and warmth.” My heart jumped with excitement … until Brandilyn read my name instead of Diana’s. My heart froze when I realized I must have written my name down by mistake, thus winning a book for myself instead of Diana. Brandilyn called me up, and I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, so I intended to return the book after the function was over. Imagine my shock when a few moments later, Brandilyn read another note about a woman “whose eyes radiated love and warmth,” only this one was the note I had written about Diana! Yes, you guessed it—two women who broke the yoke of loneliness off of each other in an elevator wrote almost exactly the same thing about the other. Go ahead, tell me that’s not a God thing!
That conference turned out to be a pivotal time in my career, not only because of the amazing friendship/critique partnership that Diana and I still share today, or even the very encouraging paid critique I received from author Tracey Bateman later on that day, but because of the invaluable lessons that the Holy Spirit taught me from the pages of a hotel-room Gideon Bible.
Yes, contests, writing classes and writers’ conferences are all important tools in traveling the road to publication. But the most important tools needed are spiritual—to keep your heart clean of jealousy by praying for those who incite it, to praise and thank God wherever you are in your journey instead of complaining, and to renew your mind with hopes scriptures instead of despair. Because the bottom line is, “hope never fails” … and neither does He.
So, I would love to hear your own conference CPR stories—I know you all have them (uh, especially Mary Connealy and Melanie Dickerson!), and there are a lot of first-time conference attendees that could use the encouragement. And for everyone that leaves a comment, I’ll toss your name in the hat for a chance to win a signed copy of your choice of one of the three books in The Daughters of Boston series. Good luck … and take a deep breath!
I'm discouraged about my dad having to help us out. Consequently, I don't have anything good to say today. But I found the post pasted below on The Seekers blog. I thought it might perk you up nicely today. It's about hope. Stay with it--it's a good story no matter where you're at in your life.
_______________________________________________
Author - Julie Lessman
“Are you okay?” Someone shook me hard. I lay there, unable to speak, eyes welded closed.
“Are you okay” the voice came again, louder this time, more insistent. No answer. I felt the press of fingers to my pulse followed by a quick sweep of my mouth, clearing all obstructions. With a pinch of my nose, someone began to breathe life into me while a gentle hand compressed against my chest, finger on my heart …
Okay, just for the record—I did not choke on a piece of chicken at an American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference or ever have to be resuscitated in any way. Uh … that is … at least not physically. But emotionally and spiritually? Yep, I was a goner. Cried enough tears that I thought the housekeeping staff would think I was heisting their Kleenex. But something amazing happened to me at the very first ACFW conference I ever attended—I received CPR in a very unlikely manner, and I gotta tell ya, folks—it saved my life. So I thought since we are less than a week out from this year’s ACFW conference in Denver, it might behoove me to share about this life-saving experience I received when the Holy Spirit administered a heavy dose of truly miraculous CPR—Cry, Pray, Repent.
Oh, how I wish, wish WISH someone had told me what I’m about to tell you before I went to my very first writers conference in Houston, Texas in 2003. It was the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference, only back then, it was ACRW, American Christian Romance Writers. I went by myself without knowing a soul, which is a hard thing to do, as so many of you are aware. Up until that point, I had done everything I could to put me on the path to publication—took fiction-writing courses at the community college, attended small writing seminars and local RWA chapter meetings, queried publishers until I was blue in the face, and entered contests until I was in hock over binder clips.
I knew in my gut that the time had come for me to venture far from home and interface with other writers of my ilk. I mean how difficult could this be? Although by nature I am a recluse of sorts, I have the misfortune of having an outgoing personality, so the word “shy” just isn’t part of my vocabulary. So I smiled and mixed and mingled until my teeth ached and made a lot of acquaintances, but no real “friend” that I felt I could connect with. Everything felt surface to me, and it seemed like everybody I spoke to was either published, had an agent, a contract in the works or fulls being considered.
That night I cried on the phone to my husband, and I’m talking major sobbing! I told him I felt lonely and jealous and like publication would never happen for me. He comforted me and prayed with me and told me everything would all right.
But it wasn’t. The next day I would attend a seminar, then go up to my room and cry, clean my face and go back down to smile some more. That went on all day as the loneliness and jealousy seemed to grow, and that night my poor husband got another earful of long-distance weeping. God love him, he prayed for me and encouraged me and told me to put my hope in God. Yeah, right, I thought to myself at the time, and how is that going to change these waterworks? That night I cried myself to sleep, rivers of tears seeping into my pillow.
What happened next is nothing short of supernatural. The next morning, even before my eyelids peeled open, my brain was pelted with hope scriptures in rapid-fire succession:
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. - Romans 15:12-14
And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. - Romans 5:4-6
No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame. - Psalm 25:2-4
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. - Psalm 62:4-6
But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more. - Psalm 71:13-15
Now, first of all, I wasn’t aware that I even knew that many hope scriptures. In fact, they shocked me so much, that my eyes popped open and I lunged for the Gideon Bible inside the nightstand drawer. I flipped it open to the first few pages where they list scriptures by subject and scanned the list for “Hope.” It wasn’t there, so I settled on the scripture for “Fear.” There were only two, mind you, and I quickly paged to the first one: Hebrews 13:5.
Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
Come again? What does fear or lack of hope have to do with covetousness and ingratitude? Give me a break, the Gideons have TONS of scriptures to choose from and they choose this???? I blinked several times … and then the Holy Spirit nailed my butt to the wall.
I had spent the last two days of this expensive conference doing NOTHING but coveting other writers’ success and complaining that it would never happen for me. My husband had forked over $800 bucks (airfare, hotel room, conference fee) so I could fly to Houston and instead of being grateful, I was utterly lonely and jealous. Talk about a one-two punch! I fell to my knees and sobbed again, only this time my tears were tears of repentance. I told God I was sorry for being such a brat, and I prayed for every woman that I had been jealous of, that God would bless the socks off of them. I asked Him to change my attitude and give me hope and help me not to be lonely the rest of the conference.
For the umpteenth time that weekend, I cleaned up my face, put on my name badge and squared my shoulders to go downstairs. The elevator opened, and I flashed a smile to the couple in the back and turned to face the door. The woman gently tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You’re from St. Louis? I live in Illinois, just twenty minutes across the river.”
I turned around and will NEVER forget the look of kindness and warmth in that woman’s eyes—like an angel sent from God. She was an ACFW author named Diana Brandmeyer (who, by the way, has a GREAT new book coming out with Barbour next January entitled Hearts on the Road, so check it out on her website at http://brandmeyer.homestead.com/). Anyway, she invited me to sit with her and her husband for breakfast. Trust me, conference food had never tasted so good!
Later that day, there was a contest for book giveaways. You simply had to write about someone who had positively affected you at the conference so far, and if the ACFW Master of Ceremonies (Brandilyn, of course!) picked your comments out of the hat, the person you wrote about won a free book. My eyes smarted with tears as I dashed a quick note about the kind woman in the elevator “whose eyes radiated love and warmth—Diana Brandmeyer.”
If you can believe it, out of over 350 women and like 2 men (grin), Brandilyn picked a handful of notes to read, and one of them was the note I had written about Diana, which referred to her “eyes full of love and warmth.” My heart jumped with excitement … until Brandilyn read my name instead of Diana’s. My heart froze when I realized I must have written my name down by mistake, thus winning a book for myself instead of Diana. Brandilyn called me up, and I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, so I intended to return the book after the function was over. Imagine my shock when a few moments later, Brandilyn read another note about a woman “whose eyes radiated love and warmth,” only this one was the note I had written about Diana! Yes, you guessed it—two women who broke the yoke of loneliness off of each other in an elevator wrote almost exactly the same thing about the other. Go ahead, tell me that’s not a God thing!
That conference turned out to be a pivotal time in my career, not only because of the amazing friendship/critique partnership that Diana and I still share today, or even the very encouraging paid critique I received from author Tracey Bateman later on that day, but because of the invaluable lessons that the Holy Spirit taught me from the pages of a hotel-room Gideon Bible.
Yes, contests, writing classes and writers’ conferences are all important tools in traveling the road to publication. But the most important tools needed are spiritual—to keep your heart clean of jealousy by praying for those who incite it, to praise and thank God wherever you are in your journey instead of complaining, and to renew your mind with hopes scriptures instead of despair. Because the bottom line is, “hope never fails” … and neither does He.
So, I would love to hear your own conference CPR stories—I know you all have them (uh, especially Mary Connealy and Melanie Dickerson!), and there are a lot of first-time conference attendees that could use the encouragement. And for everyone that leaves a comment, I’ll toss your name in the hat for a chance to win a signed copy of your choice of one of the three books in The Daughters of Boston series. Good luck … and take a deep breath!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Harvest Photos
Here is my sweet Emily Rose, in her "buteful" dress--found at a thrift store.
Timothy is giving sister a congratulatory hug. She gave up her binky the day before this was taken.
We tried to capture the children's excitement about their successful gardening venture! This year, the Lord must have spoken to the bees about doing their part. LOL We had a better yield. I love that gardening--something really so simple--can put such delight into their little souls. It was a holiday-like feel, as we gathered the harvest together and took these photos.
g
May you abundantly bless, compensating richly, the children who must be raised with no yard to call their own.
Monday, August 31, 2009
inspiration
I just read the most inspiring post. Yes, blogging and blog reading is a time suck, with which I maintain a love/hate relationship. But when the needs of my four children--especially my teething baby--deplete me before the clock strikes 12 noon, it helps enormously to come into my bedroom to fetch something, and to steal a few minutes to read a Christian post. Especially when the Lord manages to post just the right blog, at just the right time. Sometimes the fit and timing are SO perfect, there's no question that the Lord is responsible.
Before I share the post I just read, let me elaborate on why I'm in an overwhelmed state. Now's the time to roll your eyes. Yes, I'll wait.
It stems from a few issues. I am still trying to read through the introductory pages of my second-grade teachers' editions. It is slow going, although I've progressed enough to know that I chose very good resources for Daniel (Bob Jones University Press).
In addition, I am constantly thinking about the schedule I'll write. It has to fit with Don's school and study needs, with the girls' naps, with meals, with extra-curricular activities, and with laundry and meal cleanup. Exercise has to be worked into it, as well as grocery runs, appointments, etc. In short, the task is an all-consuming one.
Complicating everything is Anna's teething. She must have a lower tolerance for pain than the others. She is sleeping about as well as a newborn, and her discomfort seems to be stretching out to nearly three months worth of upheaval. The crazy sleep schedule is causing my migraines to worsen, which makes it harder to keep up.
Furthermore, I decided upon learning that it would go down to 40 degrees last night, that I'd better have Don get the fall/winter storage boxes out of the shed so that I can get our clothes washed and sorted for giving away, or for hanging up in closets. The house is littered with piles of clothes, which is normal for us when the seasons change; we have inadequate closet space. This time I'm trying to be more thorough and give away more, so I can reduce closet clutter. We always wear far less than I hang up.
So considerable chaos reigns right now. It would help enormously if I would start getting up before the family to shower, unload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes, and put oatmeal on the stove. My exhaustion always prevents that from happening, in addition to the fact that setting an alarm in our bedroom, which we share with Anna, would wake her up and require Don to care for her while I shower. She is a Momma's girl to the core, so being alone with Daddy makes her cry, which causes the others to wake prematurely. Anna loves having Daddy around, so long as Momma is close by. Perhaps because he isn't her milking cow? I wonder.
When things are this disorganized, we Mommas need only to remember what our mission is. Most decidedly, it is not writing the perfect schedule, having perfectly stocked closets, or rising in the morning at a time we deem unselfish. All those things help, sure. But keeping our eyes fixed on Him, and on what He would have us do as mothers, is the main thing. He would not overwhelm us. He would not require more than we can give. He would not drive us into migraine territory. It is our stubbornness, in wanting our own way, that leads to these problems.
As this blog author writes, He must increase, and we must decrease. That is the answer. And I thank the Lord for having me read it at this moment. This God-inspired blog author brilliantly spills it all out, for us hungry Mommas to drink up.
Before I share the post I just read, let me elaborate on why I'm in an overwhelmed state. Now's the time to roll your eyes. Yes, I'll wait.
It stems from a few issues. I am still trying to read through the introductory pages of my second-grade teachers' editions. It is slow going, although I've progressed enough to know that I chose very good resources for Daniel (Bob Jones University Press).
In addition, I am constantly thinking about the schedule I'll write. It has to fit with Don's school and study needs, with the girls' naps, with meals, with extra-curricular activities, and with laundry and meal cleanup. Exercise has to be worked into it, as well as grocery runs, appointments, etc. In short, the task is an all-consuming one.
Complicating everything is Anna's teething. She must have a lower tolerance for pain than the others. She is sleeping about as well as a newborn, and her discomfort seems to be stretching out to nearly three months worth of upheaval. The crazy sleep schedule is causing my migraines to worsen, which makes it harder to keep up.
Furthermore, I decided upon learning that it would go down to 40 degrees last night, that I'd better have Don get the fall/winter storage boxes out of the shed so that I can get our clothes washed and sorted for giving away, or for hanging up in closets. The house is littered with piles of clothes, which is normal for us when the seasons change; we have inadequate closet space. This time I'm trying to be more thorough and give away more, so I can reduce closet clutter. We always wear far less than I hang up.
So considerable chaos reigns right now. It would help enormously if I would start getting up before the family to shower, unload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes, and put oatmeal on the stove. My exhaustion always prevents that from happening, in addition to the fact that setting an alarm in our bedroom, which we share with Anna, would wake her up and require Don to care for her while I shower. She is a Momma's girl to the core, so being alone with Daddy makes her cry, which causes the others to wake prematurely. Anna loves having Daddy around, so long as Momma is close by. Perhaps because he isn't her milking cow? I wonder.
When things are this disorganized, we Mommas need only to remember what our mission is. Most decidedly, it is not writing the perfect schedule, having perfectly stocked closets, or rising in the morning at a time we deem unselfish. All those things help, sure. But keeping our eyes fixed on Him, and on what He would have us do as mothers, is the main thing. He would not overwhelm us. He would not require more than we can give. He would not drive us into migraine territory. It is our stubbornness, in wanting our own way, that leads to these problems.
As this blog author writes, He must increase, and we must decrease. That is the answer. And I thank the Lord for having me read it at this moment. This God-inspired blog author brilliantly spills it all out, for us hungry Mommas to drink up.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
It's all good
That lull in the action I spoke of a few days ago? Short-lived. Anna Grace had a day and a half off from teething. My beloved baby is back to biting her crib rail, her knuckles, her toys, and the breast that nourishes her. Still, playtime is unaffected; she continues to practice her standing-up balancing act. She even took one step forward, before falling. I watched her face for frustration. None; there was only excitement displayed on her beautiful, porcelain face. She simply got back up and tried again, and again, and again. I stand amazed at her physical capabilities! Now if she would only babble more! My children all favored physical feats over language development. Is it that hyper-active gene pool?
Sleep is once again hard for Anna to come by. Momma's day is taken up with getting her to sleep, or helping her go back to sleep. In between, there is a load of laundry done, a sandwich made, a drink poured, a hug given, a dance danced, or a spilled drink wiped up. It's all good..all rich. Yes, I have resorted to Tylenol for the teething--for her not me. LOL It helps some.
And the homeschool planning? Exactly two hours have been painstakingly carved out for this endeavor. Anna's teething situation has prevented me from having additional blocks of time, thus far. And yet, I am relaxed. When called by God to do something, failure isn't possible, so long as we follow His lead.
My task later today is to use the computer to design a homeschooling prayer journal. That must be first priority, lest my teaching load start to overwhelm. For not only must I formally teach the boys, but Emily Rose needs extra storytime, more singing, and color, number, shape, and phonics work. Anna Grace needs vocabulary, singing and rhyme time. Homeschooling literally starts at the birth of each child, and continues until they pack up their clunkers for college.
Incidentally, I never drank in college, nor did I run with anyone who drank. And yet these binge-drinking news stories have me petrified about sending my kids to college! How does one send them off, with such danger lurking? Daniel is careful...even timid and anxious; about him, I need not be concerned. It's Timothy and Rose I'll worry about.
Anyhow, the future is already being prayed about. It pays sometimes to be a worrier. Every friendship, every courtship, every spouse, every marriage...even the purity and fertility of each child--I've got it all covered. My nervousness is good for something after all.
Now back to that journal I'll design tonight; it will guide me through daily prayer for the learning needs of each child. With such a tool, their minds will definitely get filled this year--not from me, but from Him, through me.
Anna Grace had another toe prick for her iron level yesterday. After 3.5 weeks of iron-food treatment, her level went from 8.9 to 9.5--despite her six-day virus. It is common for illnesses to temporarily lower hemoglobin levels. A chart I consulted indicated that for a nine-month-old baby, a hemoglobin level of less than 10 is considered anemic. Anna will be nine months in two weeks. She is gaining ground anyway, and will be tested again in October.
Sleep is once again hard for Anna to come by. Momma's day is taken up with getting her to sleep, or helping her go back to sleep. In between, there is a load of laundry done, a sandwich made, a drink poured, a hug given, a dance danced, or a spilled drink wiped up. It's all good..all rich. Yes, I have resorted to Tylenol for the teething--for her not me. LOL It helps some.
And the homeschool planning? Exactly two hours have been painstakingly carved out for this endeavor. Anna's teething situation has prevented me from having additional blocks of time, thus far. And yet, I am relaxed. When called by God to do something, failure isn't possible, so long as we follow His lead.
My task later today is to use the computer to design a homeschooling prayer journal. That must be first priority, lest my teaching load start to overwhelm. For not only must I formally teach the boys, but Emily Rose needs extra storytime, more singing, and color, number, shape, and phonics work. Anna Grace needs vocabulary, singing and rhyme time. Homeschooling literally starts at the birth of each child, and continues until they pack up their clunkers for college.
Incidentally, I never drank in college, nor did I run with anyone who drank. And yet these binge-drinking news stories have me petrified about sending my kids to college! How does one send them off, with such danger lurking? Daniel is careful...even timid and anxious; about him, I need not be concerned. It's Timothy and Rose I'll worry about.
Anyhow, the future is already being prayed about. It pays sometimes to be a worrier. Every friendship, every courtship, every spouse, every marriage...even the purity and fertility of each child--I've got it all covered. My nervousness is good for something after all.
Now back to that journal I'll design tonight; it will guide me through daily prayer for the learning needs of each child. With such a tool, their minds will definitely get filled this year--not from me, but from Him, through me.
Anna Grace had another toe prick for her iron level yesterday. After 3.5 weeks of iron-food treatment, her level went from 8.9 to 9.5--despite her six-day virus. It is common for illnesses to temporarily lower hemoglobin levels. A chart I consulted indicated that for a nine-month-old baby, a hemoglobin level of less than 10 is considered anemic. Anna will be nine months in two weeks. She is gaining ground anyway, and will be tested again in October.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Song of Hope - God of Heaven Come Down
Timothy and I were making enchiladas just now. One of my favorite Christian songs came on the radio so we abandoned our task to dance and sing and lift our hands. I find there's no greater joy than singing to Jesus with my children. Even Anna Grace got involved and "boogied" with joy.
Praising God with my children fills me with such deep gratitude. They don't have a perfect Momma, but they have a perfect Savior, and a Momma who loves Him. That makes them rich.
Thank you, dear Lord, for yanking me out of the darkness. Thank you that my children know you!
Go here for a video of this song.
Robbie Seay Band - Song Of Hope Lyrics
All things bright and beautiful You are
All things wise and wonderful You are
In my darkest night, You brighten up the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know that You are near is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
All things new
I can start again
Creator, God
Calling me Your friend
Sing praise, my soul
To the Maker of the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know You and be loved is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Praising God with my children fills me with such deep gratitude. They don't have a perfect Momma, but they have a perfect Savior, and a Momma who loves Him. That makes them rich.
Thank you, dear Lord, for yanking me out of the darkness. Thank you that my children know you!
Go here for a video of this song.
Robbie Seay Band - Song Of Hope Lyrics
All things bright and beautiful You are
All things wise and wonderful You are
In my darkest night, You brighten up the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know that You are near is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
All things new
I can start again
Creator, God
Calling me Your friend
Sing praise, my soul
To the Maker of the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know You and be loved is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
a life motto
I don't have the spare minutes, or even the right words, to describe how hard things are right now. I'm wrestling with God in a big, stubborn way. Why? Why? Why? This is SO hard God! It has gone on SO many months! Can we just go one whole year without a crisis? How 'bout half a year then? I. need. rest.
Then I read this post and I was humbly reminded that life is hard for everyone. And besides that, no one has been diagnosed with cancer around here. My husband and I keep telling one another that.
However, the newest worry is that Anna Grace is mildly to moderately anemic (but no symptoms), which is unusual for a 7-month-old exclusively-breastfed baby. Believe me, I've researched this the past two days. She has started on rice cereal and Poly Vi Sol w/iron vitamin drops.
The hemoglobin test done (at the WIC office) was a toe prick, which isn't as accurate as a CBC blood test (from the vein). If the person administering the test squeezes the toe, more plasma comes through, which would give a lower, potentially-inaccurate hemoglobin number. My doctor doesn't see a need to do anything further until Anna gets a vein blood test at 12 months.
I, on the other hand, want to do at least another toe prick test in one month to see if the number has risen. If it hasn't, something could be going on--like leukemia (worst-case scenario), or intestinal bleeding from allergy (unlikely for breastfed infant). Why wait until December for further answers? I'm thinking of changing doctors over this. My pediatrician is young, with fewer experiences under his belt. Yes, I'm an excessive worrier--especially when it comes to my children's health.
BTW, my iron level is fine, but even if it wasn't, Anna would still get easily-absorbed iron from my breastmilk. Dietary supplementation is often necessary after seven months, but for anemia to have already started is very unusual. Her birth weight--two ounces above the official low-birth-weight cut off--is one explanation, but usually only premature or VERY small babies deplete iron stores before six months.
Her levels are not bad enough to cause brain damage or anything, thank God. She tested at 8.9 (under 10.5 is considered anemic). I read on several sites that 12 is average, 11 is the minimum desired, and below 10.5 is anemia.
Today my doctor said 10 is considered normal. That conflict in information bothers me. Nothing in my three hours of research--including standard tables of levels--supported a level of 10 as being normal.
Anyhow, back to my first paragraph about things being hard; the only life motto that makes any sense at all is this:
Sit down! Shut up! Look up! Enjoy the ride!
On a lighter note, we picked blueberries today, and I'm checking u-pick farms for red raspberry picking dates. Infuse life with the simple things--that's how to enjoy the ride.
Berries always make me smile.
Then I read this post and I was humbly reminded that life is hard for everyone. And besides that, no one has been diagnosed with cancer around here. My husband and I keep telling one another that.
However, the newest worry is that Anna Grace is mildly to moderately anemic (but no symptoms), which is unusual for a 7-month-old exclusively-breastfed baby. Believe me, I've researched this the past two days. She has started on rice cereal and Poly Vi Sol w/iron vitamin drops.
The hemoglobin test done (at the WIC office) was a toe prick, which isn't as accurate as a CBC blood test (from the vein). If the person administering the test squeezes the toe, more plasma comes through, which would give a lower, potentially-inaccurate hemoglobin number. My doctor doesn't see a need to do anything further until Anna gets a vein blood test at 12 months.
I, on the other hand, want to do at least another toe prick test in one month to see if the number has risen. If it hasn't, something could be going on--like leukemia (worst-case scenario), or intestinal bleeding from allergy (unlikely for breastfed infant). Why wait until December for further answers? I'm thinking of changing doctors over this. My pediatrician is young, with fewer experiences under his belt. Yes, I'm an excessive worrier--especially when it comes to my children's health.
BTW, my iron level is fine, but even if it wasn't, Anna would still get easily-absorbed iron from my breastmilk. Dietary supplementation is often necessary after seven months, but for anemia to have already started is very unusual. Her birth weight--two ounces above the official low-birth-weight cut off--is one explanation, but usually only premature or VERY small babies deplete iron stores before six months.
Her levels are not bad enough to cause brain damage or anything, thank God. She tested at 8.9 (under 10.5 is considered anemic). I read on several sites that 12 is average, 11 is the minimum desired, and below 10.5 is anemia.
Today my doctor said 10 is considered normal. That conflict in information bothers me. Nothing in my three hours of research--including standard tables of levels--supported a level of 10 as being normal.
Anyhow, back to my first paragraph about things being hard; the only life motto that makes any sense at all is this:
Sit down! Shut up! Look up! Enjoy the ride!
On a lighter note, we picked blueberries today, and I'm checking u-pick farms for red raspberry picking dates. Infuse life with the simple things--that's how to enjoy the ride.
Berries always make me smile.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Record your answers!
Something rather miraculous happened last night! And the whole thing made me realize that I need to start recording answers to prayer. Seeing the answers down on paper to reflect on would be so encouraging! I'm willing to bet that many more prayers than I realize DO get "yes" answers.
I have NOT prayed about Anna Grace sleeping through the night. While most formula babies and babies who have cried it out do sleep through the night by six months, it is unusual for a nursing baby to do so. A low percentage of American babies are still nursing after six months, and consequently, any statistic about sleeping through the night the first year is skewed and not really applicable to nursing families. The possibility that Anna might do this just didn't occur to me.
Now, when Emily Rose began to wander the house in the mornings a few days ago, I did lament and whine to my God.
Pam: "Why, oh why can't SOMETHING be easy!!?? How in the world am I going to keep these children safe?? There are so many variables to safety when you have four young children, God! Anna is now sitting, meaning that she sometimes falls into pieces of furniture, which makes her rather mad, and hurt! More than ever, I have to watch her every move. I can't remove the furniture--that's for sure, God. Between the four of them, I'm going out of my mind regarding safety!"
Only after this stellar whining performance did I humble myself to pray about the issue. Unwise order of priorities, I know.
This morning, I awoke to Anna's cries from her crib at 5:37 a.m. I went to get her (crib is in our room), and was confused about why she was in her crib. Then I looked at the clock, and realized that I had put her in the crib at 8:00 p.m. the night before. And then I forced myself to go to bed at 11:30, knowing that I HAD to start doing something about my lack of sleep. Well, as I picked her up, I realized that she had never woken up and nursed in bed with me--the whole night! She actually slept from 8:00 p.m. to 5:37 a.m., and I never heard a peep--even with Don getting back from work and slipping into bed after 3:00 a.m.! He was real pleased (NOT) when in my excitement, I woke him up and said, "Honey, Anna slept through the night!" He opened his eyes briefly to say that the night wasn't over yet.
Now the part about the prayer. Anna felt well rested and would not go back to sleep, even after she nursed and filled her tummy. At 6:20 I took her out to the living room, which means I was up for the day and fully awake when Emily Rose woke up!! God was answering my prayer about keeping Emily safe in the morning, by having Anna sleep through the night! I slept six hours straight, which hasn't occurred in a very long time. (Three hours straight is a good night.) I feel great today, and it was nice to be so alert and happy while I cared for my children this morning.
She may not sleep through the night again for a long time. But today, God encouraged me. He IS listening! And I SHOULD record his answers to my prayers. Currently I'm reading a book about spiritual reformation and it TOO has encouraged me to record not only prayer requests, but also the ANSWERS. Very elementary concept, leading to very powerful results.
Hey Liz, thank you for your comments. I actually do have a stellar diet (high in fiber, low in fat)and looking like the food pyramid. Any health problems for me stem from lack of sleep. Since I am a night person living in an early-morning culture, I've never gotten adequate sleep. It is a matter of self-discipline, and now I MUST do something about it. I will check out the websites you gave, and get the Primrose Oil. I probably won't use any hormone replacement, as my mom had breast cancer (minor lump in early stage) in her mid-sixties, partly from being given hormones when she started perimenopause at 45 years old.
I have NOT prayed about Anna Grace sleeping through the night. While most formula babies and babies who have cried it out do sleep through the night by six months, it is unusual for a nursing baby to do so. A low percentage of American babies are still nursing after six months, and consequently, any statistic about sleeping through the night the first year is skewed and not really applicable to nursing families. The possibility that Anna might do this just didn't occur to me.
Now, when Emily Rose began to wander the house in the mornings a few days ago, I did lament and whine to my God.
Pam: "Why, oh why can't SOMETHING be easy!!?? How in the world am I going to keep these children safe?? There are so many variables to safety when you have four young children, God! Anna is now sitting, meaning that she sometimes falls into pieces of furniture, which makes her rather mad, and hurt! More than ever, I have to watch her every move. I can't remove the furniture--that's for sure, God. Between the four of them, I'm going out of my mind regarding safety!"
Only after this stellar whining performance did I humble myself to pray about the issue. Unwise order of priorities, I know.
This morning, I awoke to Anna's cries from her crib at 5:37 a.m. I went to get her (crib is in our room), and was confused about why she was in her crib. Then I looked at the clock, and realized that I had put her in the crib at 8:00 p.m. the night before. And then I forced myself to go to bed at 11:30, knowing that I HAD to start doing something about my lack of sleep. Well, as I picked her up, I realized that she had never woken up and nursed in bed with me--the whole night! She actually slept from 8:00 p.m. to 5:37 a.m., and I never heard a peep--even with Don getting back from work and slipping into bed after 3:00 a.m.! He was real pleased (NOT) when in my excitement, I woke him up and said, "Honey, Anna slept through the night!" He opened his eyes briefly to say that the night wasn't over yet.
Now the part about the prayer. Anna felt well rested and would not go back to sleep, even after she nursed and filled her tummy. At 6:20 I took her out to the living room, which means I was up for the day and fully awake when Emily Rose woke up!! God was answering my prayer about keeping Emily safe in the morning, by having Anna sleep through the night! I slept six hours straight, which hasn't occurred in a very long time. (Three hours straight is a good night.) I feel great today, and it was nice to be so alert and happy while I cared for my children this morning.
She may not sleep through the night again for a long time. But today, God encouraged me. He IS listening! And I SHOULD record his answers to my prayers. Currently I'm reading a book about spiritual reformation and it TOO has encouraged me to record not only prayer requests, but also the ANSWERS. Very elementary concept, leading to very powerful results.
Hey Liz, thank you for your comments. I actually do have a stellar diet (high in fiber, low in fat)and looking like the food pyramid. Any health problems for me stem from lack of sleep. Since I am a night person living in an early-morning culture, I've never gotten adequate sleep. It is a matter of self-discipline, and now I MUST do something about it. I will check out the websites you gave, and get the Primrose Oil. I probably won't use any hormone replacement, as my mom had breast cancer (minor lump in early stage) in her mid-sixties, partly from being given hormones when she started perimenopause at 45 years old.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Daily Bible Online
You can put this on your blog and read daily Scripture online. Neat! It is also on my sidebar.
net.bible.org/daily.php
Books are still the best! Just thought this was neat.
net.bible.org/daily.php
Books are still the best! Just thought this was neat.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
An Interesting Site
Through some blog-surfing, I found a Christian woman's blog that is totally devoted to helping others develop a loving Christian marriage. It is called Love Lasts a Lifetime. I just wanted to let you know ahead of time that it is on my sidebar and contains information about improving one's overall marriage, including marital intimacy. She apparently does a post every week or so about an intimate position. There are no inappropriate pictures or anything like that (totally Christian content), but if you have teenage children in your house, or very good readers, maybe you don't want them peering over your shoulder while you visit the site.
My libido always takes a serious nose dive when I'm nursing. I do feel awful about it, and very sorry for my husband. This woman is dedicated to helping Christian moms see beyond our own feelings, so that we honor our husbands by being enthusiastic AND available. I hope you don't mind my posting the site here. Maybe your husband will thank me. :) I went through about two weeks of posts. Her husband posts less often, but speaks directly to husbands when he does.
My libido always takes a serious nose dive when I'm nursing. I do feel awful about it, and very sorry for my husband. This woman is dedicated to helping Christian moms see beyond our own feelings, so that we honor our husbands by being enthusiastic AND available. I hope you don't mind my posting the site here. Maybe your husband will thank me. :) I went through about two weeks of posts. Her husband posts less often, but speaks directly to husbands when he does.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Go-To Verse and ADHD
We took Daniel off of ADHD meds three days ago. When we started back in late January with this medical-intervention journey, we were hopeful. Trying medication was something we felt we had to do. I'm glad we did, but I must say I'm very happy to have my son back. It was a bit of a disaster, to say the least. The whole experience has driven home that my son is "fearfully and wonderfully made". ADHD is difficult--especially when a family is undergoing change of any kind--but the condition also gifts a child with some unique characteristics, which may serve Daniel very well in his life, and be part of God's plan for his future. So we've decided to mercy him and love him, just the way he is, and keep reciting our go-to verse.
James 1:2
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds..
James 1:2
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
